“You know what Thompson was thinking,” he said without opening his eyes.
“Not hard to guess.” She fired up the engine. “Another mysterious crime here in the fair town of Stone Canyon, Arizona, and what do you know? Clare Lancaster just happens to be in the vicinity again.”
“You do seem inclined toward a lot of bad luck whenever you’re in this burg,” Jake said.
“You’re the one who got the rotten luck today. Dear God, Jake. Someone tried to murder you.”
He forced himself to focus hard on the subject. “Could have been a hunter’s stray shot.”
“I don’t believe that for a second and neither do you. It’s connected to the fact that you’re helping me find out what was going on in Brad McAllister’s life at the time he was killed. It has to be.”
He opened his eyes. “I’ll admit that getting shot today did sort of strike me as something of a coincidence.”
“Did you tell that cop that we’re investigating the circumstances of Brad’s death?”
“Hell, no.”
“Why not?”
“It’s kind of complicated,” Jake said.
“I’m getting a bad feeling here. Define ‘complicated.’”
Time to level with her, he thought.
“This is Jones & Jones business,” he said.
“Damn,” Clare whispered. “I knew you were lying right from the start.”
Jake felt that he should probably try to respond to that accusation but he couldn’t seem to think anymore.
So he went to sleep, instead.
Chapter Thirty-seven
She pulled into the drive, switched off the engine and looked over at Jake. He was still asleep. The only thing that had kept him from sprawling forward against the dashboard was the seat belt.
“Jake?” She leaned around him to shake his right shoulder very gently. “Wake up. We’re home.”
He raised his lashes a little and looked at her with unfocused eyes. “Home?”
“Yes.” She unfastened his seat belt. “Do you think you can make it into the house?”
He inhaled deeply. “You smell good.”
“Pay attention, Jake. You’re going to have to help me here. I can’t carry you inside.”
“Too bad. Sounds like fun. Never been carried over a threshold before.”
She got out and went around to his side of the car. When she opened the door he almost toppled out onto the driveway. She barely caught him in time.
“Hang on, let’s try this.” She inserted her arm between his back and the seat and maneuvered him out of the vehicle.
When she got him on his feet he gripped the edge of the car door to steady himself. He peered at the entrance. “No sweat,” he said. “Piece of cake.”
“Good.” She draped his good arm around her shoulder. “Here we go.”
She was breathing hard by the time she got him into the front hall. When they finally reached his bedroom he was leaning on her so heavily she was afraid she might go down beneath his weight. If that happened she would have to leave him on the floor for the night, she thought.
But he managed to make it as far as the bed. His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.
She took off his shoes and placed them neatly on the floor beside the bed. After briefly considering his blood-spattered pants, she elected not to remove them. He was asleep now and she did not want to disturb him anymore. Even an agent of the legendary firm of Jones & Jones probably needed a little rest after taking a bullet.
She checked the bandage one last time. There was no sign of increased bleeding.
Satisfied, she turned out the lamp beside the bed and went to the door.
“Clare?”
She paused and looked back at him. “Yes?”
“You’ll be here in the morning?”
“I’ll be here,” she said.
“Good.”
She stood there for a long time, watching him sleep. Her insides were still tied up in the ice-cold knot that had formed when she got the call from the emergency room.
She went into the kitchen and made a large pot of tea. When it was ready she filled a mug to the brim and went back down the hall to Jake’s bedroom.
He was sound asleep. She put her palm on his forehead and then on the bare skin around the bandages. Satisfied that he was not in the grip of a raging fever, she sat down in the reading chair near the window, put her feet up on the hassock and took a sip of tea.
She did a meditation on the moonlit night and prepared to wait for the coyotes of dawn.
Chapter Thirty-eight
She was in the kitchen whipping up eggs when she heard the sound of a car in the drive. Given that it was not yet eight o’clock in the morning, the arrival of a visitor did not bode well, she thought.
The news of the shooting incident was in the morning edition of the Stone Canyon Herald lying on the table. By now most of the local residents had probably read it.
She set the bowl of beaten eggs in the refrigerator and went down the hall to open the door.
Elizabeth was on the front step. Unfortunately, she was not alone. Archer and Myra were with her.
“What the hell is going on here?” Archer demanded. “Paper says Jake was shot last night.”
“Is he all right?” Elizabeth asked anxiously. “I called the hospital but they said he hadn’t been admitted.”
“He’s here.” Clare stood back, holding the door. “Still asleep. Please keep your voices down.”
Myra was the first one into the hall. Her eyes were shadowed with accusation. “The paper says the police believe Jake may have been the victim of someone who was hunting out of season. Is that true?”
“Probably not,” Clare said.
Myra frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Long story,” Clare said.
“What about you?” Elizabeth said. “Are you all right? You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” Clare managed a wan smile. “One of the great things about having a sister. Total honesty.”
Myra gave her a second cursory glance. “You do look a little pale. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing major.” Clare closed the door. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. Why don’t you come into the kitchen? I’ll make some coffee.”
She got Elizabeth, Myra and Archer seated at the kitchen table and went to the counter to make a pot of coffee.
“Let’s have it,” Archer said.
“I think someone tried to murder Jake yesterday.” Clare concentrated on spooning coffee into the filter. “Probably the same person who killed Valerie Shipley and Brad McAllister.”
Archer blew out a long sigh. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”
“That’s not possible,” Myra insisted, sounding desperate. “Brad was killed by a burglar. Valerie drowned accidentally. There isn’t any connection.”
Elizabeth said nothing. Clare turned on the coffeemaker.
“I think there is a link, Myra,” Jake said from the doorway.
Clare gave him a quick, head-to-toe survey. He had run a comb through his hair and put on a fresh pair of trousers and a clean shirt. The shirt was unbuttoned, the left sleeve hanging empty. Jake had managed to drape the garment in such a way that it concealed the bandage on his arm.
The clean clothes did nothing to soften the impression he made. The hard lines of his face were rendered more starkly ominous than usual by the dark shadows of his morning beard.
Archer whistled softly. “Well, hell, Salter. You look like you just got back from the gunfight at the O.K. Corral.”
“Feels that way, too,” Jake said.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “How badly does it hurt?”
He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Let’s just say that I’m aware that whatever the doc gave me last night has worn off.”
“I’ll get the pain pills,” Clare said quickly.
“No, thanks.” He shook his head. “I n
eed to do some thinking. That stuff fuzzes up my senses.”
Clare hesitated, saw the stubborn look in his eyes and decided to abandon the argument.
“Are you sure you should be out of bed, Jake?” Myra asked uneasily.
“I’m okay, Myra,” he said. “I just need some tea and some food.”
“You also need rest,” Clare reminded him. She ran water into a kettle. “The doctor said you’re supposed to take it easy for a couple of days.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jake said. He sat down at the table.
His careless agreement told her that he had no intention of loafing around in bed for the next forty-eight hours. She wanted to lecture him, but this did not seem to be the appropriate time so she gave him a severe frown instead. He smiled slightly, his eyes warming.
Archer scowled at Jake. “You think this is all connected to the other business, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Jake said flatly. “I do.”
Clare glanced quickly at Myra and Elizabeth. They looked as blank as she felt. She wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what was going on around here.
“Okay, Mr. Hotshot Jones & Jones agent,” she said. “I think it’s time you told us just what this ‘other business’ is.”
“Jones & Jones?” Elizabeth looked genuinely shocked.
Myra was appalled. “There can’t be anything going on here in Stone Canyon that would attract the attention of Jones & Jones.”
“Looks like there is,” Jake said. “I was sent here to investigate it. Things got a little screwed up.”
“My fault,” Archer said. He rubbed the back of his neck in an oddly weary gesture. “I deliberately pointed you away from the McAllister murder.”
“It wasn’t just you,” Jake said. He looked at Clare. “The intelligence J&J had pointed away from it, too.”
Clare groaned. “Jones & Jones thought that I killed Brad?”
“Your name came up at the top of the list of possibilities that the probability analysts put together,” Jake said.
She frowned. “What was number two on the list?”
“The interrupted burglary scenario.”
“Great,” Clare muttered. “Just great. No wonder I can’t get a job at J&J.”
“The bottom line was that Jones & Jones wasn’t interested in McAllister’s death as long as it appeared to be nothing more than a messy love triangle,” Jake said.
Archer raised his brows. “But given recent events, you think it’s more than that.”
Jake nodded. “I think there is a very direct link to my own investigation.”
No more Mr. Bland Consultant, Clare thought. The hunter had come to the surface, big-time. The man from Jones & Jones was taking charge.
Myra rounded on Archer. “What is this all about?”
Archer blew out another long breath and slouched in his chair. He exchanged one last look with Jake and then shrugged.
“You’re not going to like this,” he said, looking directly at Myra. “I was hoping you would never have to know.”
“Just tell me,” Myra pleaded. “I can deal with anything once I know what it is. You know that. It’s the uncertainty that I can’t bear.”
Archer smiled ruefully. “I know. But in this case, I’ve been wishing that it would all go away before I had to say something.”
Elizabeth frowned. “What is going on here, Dad?”
Clare folded her arms beneath her breasts. She fixed both men with a hard look.
“Well, gentlemen?” she said coolly.
“I didn’t hire Jake to consult on the Glazebrook pension and benefits plan,” Archer said. “Jones & Jones requested that I provide cover for him here in Stone Canyon so that he could pursue a classified investigation.”
Myra studied Jake. “You’re an exotic, aren’t you? Jones & Jones is rumored to use a lot of them.”
“Yes,” Jake admitted.
Myra sighed. “You seemed like such a nice man.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
“I’m not a full-time agent for Jones & Jones,” Jake said. “The firm doesn’t maintain a large, permanent staff of agents. Most of us are freelance. Like a lot of the other agents, I’ve got my own investigation business. But I’m on call for what the Council likes to refer to as ‘extraordinary situations.’ That usually translates into ‘messy.’”
“What about Salter Business Consulting?” Clare asked. “Is that just a cover?”
He shrugged. “My MBA is for real but I use it primarily as a cover when I need it for corporate security investigations. That’s the bulk of my business.”
Myra gripped the edge of the table with both hands and glared hard at Archer. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”
“Jones & Jones asked me to keep Jake’s real role here a secret,” he said.
“Oh, screw that damned J&J,” Myra shot back. She leaped to her feet. “I’m your wife. You should have told me what was going on.”
There was a short, startled pause. Jake and everyone else stared at Myra, astonished by the uncharacteristic outburst.
Elizabeth smiled slowly. “Gosh, Mom. Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?”
Archer grinned sheepishly. “Your mother doesn’t lose her temper very often, Lizzie, but when she does, it’s always impressive.”
Myra ignored the byplay. She rounded on Jake. “I can’t believe that I introduced you to all my friends and acquaintances as a highly respected business consultant.”
“I’m sorry, Myra,” he said. “I needed to be accepted into your social circle.”
“For heaven’s sake, why?” Myra swept out her arms. “Just what sort of investigation was so important that you and Jones & Jones felt justified in using me for my social connections?”
“Now, honey, that’s not how it was,” Archer said, placating. “We didn’t use you.”
“Yes,” Myra spat back. “You did.”
Clare elevated her brows in a way that Jake knew did not bode well.
“Sure sounds to me like the two of you and Jones & Jones used her,” she said.
Myra cast an uncertain glance at Clare.
“It certainly does,” Elizabeth agreed. “No doubt about it. You guys definitely used Mom.”
Jake looked at Archer, instinctively seeking guidance from an older and, he hoped, wiser male who had the advantage of several more years of experience dealing with the opposite sex.
Archer did another heavy exhale and sank deeper into his seat. He gave Jake an apologetic look.
No help from that quarter, Jake thought. He was on his own. Clare, Myra and Elizabeth were all watching him with expressions that would have been appropriate to three female judges about to render sentence on a convicted purse snatcher. And they hadn’t even heard the really bad stuff yet. He had saved that for last.
“I’m after a member of what appears to be a new Arcane Society cabal,” he said.
Clare drew a sharp breath and sat down hard on the edge of a chair.
Elizabeth and Myra were equally stunned.
“But the cabal is just a legend,” Myra managed faintly.
“Not exactly,” Jake said.
Clare was already moving beyond startled to intrigued. He wasn’t surprised. She was into conspiracy theories. For the members of the Arcane Society the cabals were the ultimate conspiracy theories.
Clare glanced at Elizabeth and Myra and then went back to Jake. “I don’t think any of us doubt that there was a cabal at one time or that it was a very dangerous group. But that was back in the late 1800s, when Hippolyte Jones was the Master of the Arcane Society.”
“That’s right,” Elizabeth said. “I remember the story from one of the Arcane House history classes. The leader of the First Cabal was hunted down by a member of the Jones family.”
“Caleb Jones,” Archer put in, evidently trying to be helpful.
Myra glowered at him. Archer shut up.
“Jones had the assistance of the woman who later became his wife,” Cla
re added, excitement lighting her eyes. “The conspiracy was destroyed. According to the records, the remaining members of the First Cabal were all kicked out of the Society.”
“The basic organization of the First Cabal looked a lot like what we would call a cult today,” Jake said patiently. “It had ascending circles of secrecy and a leader at the top who was a strong sensitive obsessed with power. Most of the rank-and-file members were nothing more than eccentrics and weak-minded individuals who could be manipulated. When the original conspiracy was disbanded, the majority of those affiliated with it tottered off and disappeared.”
“Precisely,” Myra declared. “The First Cabal is now nothing more than just another old Arcane Society legend. Like so many of those fanciful tales, it was associated with one of the Jones men. Personally, I think that fact alone makes this entire story highly suspect.”
Jake looked at her. “There is a reason why it was eventually called the First Cabal, Myra.”
Myra’s lips thinned. “I am aware that over the years there have been rumors of attempts to form new cabals. But we all know that they came to nothing.”
“Only because Jones & Jones was able to stop them in time,” Archer said.
“Jones & Jones,” Myra said with cold emphasis, “was established by Caleb Jones and his wife. It is no secret that all the various branches have been headed by the descendents of the Jones family ever since. That family turns out a lot of exotics.”
Elizabeth winced. “Mom, please.”
Myra had the grace to redden. “I’m sorry if I offended you by using the term ‘exotic,’ Jake, but we all know the facts here.”
“Don’t worry about it, Myra.” He watched Clare pour boiling water into the pot. He really needed that tea. “You’re right. In any event, I’ve got bigger issues at the moment.”
“Go on, Jake,” Elizabeth said.
“Like it or not,” he said, “every so often some member of the Society with a wacked-out psychic profile and usually a very high level of sensitivity to go with it gets inspired by the legend of the First Cabal and decides to fire up a new version. Jones & Jones has reason to believe that has happened again.”
White Lies Page 22
