Ghost Hunter

Chapter 11

ELLY TOSSED THE BEATEN EGGS INTO THE PAN WHEN SHE heard the door of the bathroom open. She was okay now, she assured herself. In the length of time it had taken him to shower and shave, she had cleaned up the spilled orange juice, organized breakfast, and gotten her emotions back under control.

His booted footsteps sounded softly in the hall. She was unable to suppress the little chill of excitement that swept through her. She was about to serve breakfast to Cooper Boone after a night of wild sexual abandon in his arms.

Don't get carried away here, she told herself, sprinkling fresh herbs onto the eggs, that little scene in the Spectrum lasted just long enough for him to get your clothes off. We're talking at most maybe fifteen minutes, after which he went right to sleep. We are not talking about an entire night of passionate sexual abandon.

In addition she must not forget that the fact that he had wanted to have hot sex with her while he was in the midst of a major burn-and-crash was not exactly a ringing testimonial to her seductive powers. Any man who had melted amber would have been in the mood for sex.

Cooper walked into the kitchen. She blinked.

"What now?" he asked.

"Your shirt."

"What about it?"

She cleared her throat. "You forgot to put it on."

He looked down at his naked chest. "It was soaked with orange juice, remember?"

"Oh. Right." She concentrated on stirring the eggs and tried not to think about the fact that she was going to serve breakfast to Cooper Boone and that he was naked from the waist up.

Rose chortled cheerfully, tumbled off the windowsill, and drifted across the floor to greet Cooper for the second time that morning.

"Hello, gorgeous." Cooper scooped her up and held her in one hand. "You'd think I'd been away for a week."

Elly moved the eggs off the heat. "Ready to eat?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm hungry enough to chew green quartz."

His body needed fuel after the heavy psi drain last night, she told herself. Good thing she had scrambled every last egg left in the carton.

"Back to your windowsill, gorgeous." Cooper set Rose down next to the vase and flower. He took a closer look at the green blossom. "Never saw a flower like this before," he remarked. "What's it called?"

She watched him covertly. Cooper was nothing if not a very powerful para-resonator. Was he picking up any trace of the psi buzz?

"I don't know," she admitted. "Rose started bringing them to me shortly after she moved in. I hunted through my reference books, but I couldn't find any flower matching its description. A few weeks ago I finally showed one to Stuart Griggs."

"Who is Griggs?"

"The florist who has the shop next to Bertha's place. I would have gone to him sooner, but he's not very friendly. Honestly, given his general attitude, I don't know how he manages to stay in business. At any rate, he said he didn't recognize the species, either. He suggested that it was probably an orchid hybrid of some kind."

"Odd shade of green," Cooper observed. "At first I thought it was an artificial flower carved out of imitation alien quartz."

He hadn't felt a thing, she thought, not even a tingle.

"No, it's a real flower," she said. "It will wither in a few days, just like the others. They seem to last a little longer if I keep them in that green quartz vase."

"So where is Rose getting them?"

"I've got a nasty feeling that she is filching them from someone's private hothouse. They're probably a local orchid grower's pride and joy. Those guys can be obsessive."

"Yeah?"

"Trust me, you don't want to mess with an orchid person. My biggest concern is that the grower might catch Rose in the act of swiping the flowers and take after her with a rake. You know, like in that children's story, The Tale of Dickie Dust Bunny?"

"Never read it."

"You can't have missed that one, too. Think back, Cooper. Little Dickie Dust Bunny's mother tells him that he mustn't go into Mr. McAmber's garden because his father had an accident there and ended up in a pie. But, naturally, little Dickie can't resist the idea, so he disobeys and goes into the garden."

"What happens?"

"He has all sorts of adventures, nearly gets caught, and barely makes it out alive. There are some very charming illustrations that accompany the story." She paused. "Does that resonate at all?"

He reflected briefly. "I remember Mom and Dad giving me an illustrated copy of Littleton's Founders of the Harmonic Colonies when I turned five. Does that count?"

She sighed. "Never mind."

Cooper scratched Rose in the general vicinity of her ears. "I wouldn't worry about Rose getting caught, if I were you. Got a hunch she's way too smart for that. Besides, who would want to eat dust bunny pie?"

Elly glared. "You know, you have a tendency to interpret things a bit too literally at times."

"I prefer to deal with facts, if that's what you mean," Cooper said. He lost interest in the flower and sat down at the table. "Speaking of which, we need to talk about this blue ghost situation."

"Right." She poured him a mug of her specially blended rez-root tea and carried it to the table. "We're talking Guild secrets here, aren't we?"

He took the mug from her hand. "Afraid so."

"Sheesh. And the Guilds wonder why they make mainstream society so nervous."

"The existence of blue ghosts has historically been one of the most closely guarded of all Guild secrets."

"Why?" She went back to the stove and spooned the creamy scrambled eggs onto a plate. "I admit it looked awfully scary, but you de-rezzed it successfully."

"The reason the Guilds don't want to go public with the truth about the blues is because they're not part of the natural landscape down in the catacombs."

"What do you mean?" She added toast to the plate and went back to the table. "I saw it, myself. It was a highly unusual ghost, but it was definitely a ghost."

"No wild blues have ever been encountered floating randomly through the tunnels. As far as anyone knows, it takes a human to pull blue ghost light." He took a swallow of the tea and lowered the mug. "Someone like me, for instance."

"That monster vortex was rezzed up by a person? A hunter?"

"Yes."

"You're sure of that?"

"Trust me." He picked up a fork and started in on the eggs with enthusiasm. "I'm sure."

She grappled briefly with that. "But we didn't see anyone else down there. Hunters, even strong ones, can't summon ghosts from any great distance. Besides, large, human-generated ghosts disintegrate very quickly once the hunter stops feeding it psi power through amber. Dissonance energy is inherently unstable."

"Some hunters can make ghosts hang around for quite a while, even after the hunter himself has left the scene."

"Oh, sure, small, simple ghosts, maybe, like the ones that you attach to your license plate to protect your car. But that's not what we're talking about here. That blue firestorm wasn't some uncomplicated little UDEM. It was very complex."

"How do you think I do that trick with the ghosts and the license plates?"

She shrugged. "I just assumed you could do it because you're a very strong para-rez. It's not that unusual. My dad and my brothers can pull off the same stunt."

"No hunter, not even a strong one, can make any kind of ghost stick unless he has a chunk of amber to anchor it."

She frowned. "So how do you attach one to your license plate?"

He smiled slightly. "I'll let you in on an old hunter secret. You install a chunk of amber behind the plate or under the fender of the vehicle. Once that's in place, any hunter who is strong enough can get a ghost to stick for a while."

She groaned. "To think that all these years I let my brothers convince me they were super macho para-rezzes because they could make dumb little ghosts stick to things like license plates or the canopy of my bed."

He paused, the fork halfway to his mouth. "They attached ghosts to your bed?"

"It only happened once. One night when I was nine I woke up and found a little UDEM hovering over my bed. Scared the you-know-what out of me. I was afraid to move. But I screamed bloody murder. Mom and Dad came running in, and Dad zapped the ghost."

"What about your brothers?"

She grinned. "Dad took all three of them down into the catacombs the next morning. When Logan, Matt, and Sam returned, they looked as if they'd all seen real ghosts. I got deeply sincere apologies from each of them. Suffice it to say I didn't wake up to any more ghosts." She returned to the counter and poured herself a mug of tea. "Let's get back to that blue vortex. How did the hunter who summoned it make it stick in the corridor? I didn't see any amber around it."

"You're forgetting the amber-rez directional locator in the dash of Bertha's sled."

"Oh, right."

"I'm betting the hunter knew the frequency. That's probably how he was able to chase her through the catacombs."

She sat down across from him and wrapped both hands around her mug. "He found the sled, but he didn't find Bertha."

"Probably didn't have the frequency of her personal amber."

"Thank goodness. She must have realized at some point that he was tracking her using the sled's amber. She abandoned the sled and managed to hide in a chamber until he was gone."

"I think so, yes."

"But if that's the case, how did she get the ghost-burn?"

"Maybe she waited until the hunter left and then tried to retrieve the sled. Blues are more volatile than greens. All she had to do was get a little too close to that vortex, and she would have been singed."

"After she got zapped she maintained consciousness long enough to crawl into the nearest chamber, and then she passed out."

"That's my take on it, yeah." Cooper munched some toast.

Elly exhaled deeply. "It fits with your theory that she stumbled into a drug-making operation."

"That's sure how it looks to me."

She leaned back in the chair and stretched her legs out under the table. "One thing I don't get here. Why have the Guilds been so anxious to keep the blues a secret all these years?"

He chased the last of the eggs around the plate with a piece of toast. "Two reasons. First, unlike greens, blues can be manipulated with far more precision and speed. Even a small one can be used to kill."

"They can be turned into weapons more easily than greens?"

"Not only that, a hunter who knows what he's doing can convert a blue vortex into a sort of psi-seeking missile that will home in on a specific piece of tuned amber."

"In other words, it combines the elements of a weapon with those of an amber-rez directional locator or a compass?"

He nodded. "You have to know the frequency of the target amber, but if you've got that-" He let the sentence end, unfinished.

"And last night, the amber in Bertha's sled was the target?"

"Looks like it."

She shuddered. "Okay, I can see where that information would make the general population a bit more nervous about hunters."

He drank some more tea and lowered the mug. "The good news is that blue energy is only effective underground in the catacombs. You can create some splashy fireworks with it aboveground if you're very strong and if you know what you're doing, but there's not enough of it up here to manipulate into a vortex, which is what's needed to turn it into a weapon."

"What's the other reason the Guilds have tried to keep blues hushed up?"

"Does the name Donovan Cork resonate?"

"The serial killer?" Startled, she set her mug down hard on the table. "The guy who used to lure women down into the catacombs and murder them? He could rez blues?"

"Yes. That's how he killed his victims. Death by blue looks a lot like a heart attack."

She frowned. "He murdered a number of prostitutes before they finally found his body in the tunnels. No one could figure out exactly how he had killed the women. They assumed it was some sort of fast-acting poison. As I recall, the authorities concluded that Cork, himself, had taken the poison when he feared that he was about to be arrested."

Cooper watched her over the rim of the mug. "How about Stewart Picton? Ever heard of him?"

"Well, of course. He's in all the history books. Forty years ago he set out to blackmail several members of the Federation Council. If they didn't pay off, he murdered them and their spouses. He was finally stopped but not before he had killed at least four people."

"J. Herbert Harris?"

"Another serial killer," she said. "Very famous case a couple of years ago. There were several best-selling true crime books written about him." She paused, frowning. "They found his body in the tunnels, too."

"There have been others over the years."

"Are you telling me that they were all hunters who could rez blue ghost energy?"

"Yes. Fortunately, most blue freaks are identified as problems early on and removed before they become notorious."

A small chill slipped down her spine. "Blue freaks? Is that what they're called?"

His mouth tightened at the corners. "Yes."

"So who removes these guy's when they become problems?" she asked carefully.

"You know the old saying about how the Guild polices itself?"

She made a face. "Everyone knows that. Frankly, most people assume that's the Guild's way of avoiding having to deal with local law enforcement."

"The Guilds don't mind letting local cops take care of the run-of-the-mill criminals in the ranks. For the most part it's good for the image. Says we don't consider ourselves above the law."

"Not everyone believes that, but never mind. Go on."

"Image issues aside, the cops don't have the resources to track down and neutralize a rogue hunter who can pull blue ghost energy," Cooper said. "Even if they could track one through the tunnels, which is where guys like that tend to retreat if they're in danger of getting caught, they wouldn't have the firepower to bring him down. You know how it is down in the catacombs. Like most other high-tech devices, guns don't work well there."

"Okay, I think I see where you're going here. Let me guess; it takes a blue hunter to stop one of these blue freaks, right?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much what it comes down to in the end."

"Wow." She propped her elbows on the table and cradled her chin on her hands. "Those guys must be the mysterious enforcers I used to hear my brothers whispering about from time to time."

"Enforcers?"

"That's what they called them. They would never tell me exactly what an enforcer did, of course. Big Guild secret, you know. Probably weren't exactly sure, themselves."

"I'd like to think that was the case," Cooper said dryly. "Only members of the Guild Councils are supposed to be aware of the blues and everything that goes with them. But now that I've learned how gossip runs through the Guild halls, I won't hold my breath."

"I told you once before: Never underestimate the power of rumor and gossip."

His jaw tightened. "Believe me, I haven't forgotten."

She got up and went back to the counter to pour herself another cup of tea. "So the Guilds have these secret enforcers to deal with blue freaks?"

"That is more or less the job description." He paused a beat. "The hunters who pursue that particular career path prefer the title of investigator, I believe. Enforcer sounds like a hit man."

She waved that aside. "I suppose the reason I haven't heard more gossip about the blues and the enforcers over the years is because we never had any problems of that sort in the Aurora Springs Guild. One of the advantages of being a small-town organization, no doubt. Lower crime rates."

"Got news for you." He watched her very steadily from the other side of the table. "The Aurora Springs Guild did have a problem with a blue freak a while back. He went into the murder-for-hire business. Sold his services for nearly a year quite successfully before someone on the Council realized what was going on. The freak was always careful to take contracts out of town in one of the big cities so as to lower the risk of drawing attention to himself at home."

"Are you serious?"

"I never joke about Guild business."

"True," she agreed. "Well? Who was he? You've told me this much, you have to tell me the rest."

He shrugged. "The freak was Haggerty."

"Haggerty?" She couldn't believe her ears. "Douglas Haggerty, the former Guild boss? Your predecessor?"

"Yes."

"That's amazing. He was the boss of the Aurora Springs Guild for over ten years. Good grief, the man made a pass. He wanted to marry me."

Cooper raised his brows. "Your father was the Council member who first became suspicious of him. That was one of the reasons John made sure Haggerty didn't get anywhere near you."

"Holy dust bunny." She whistled softly. "This is incredible. So that's the reason Haggerty disappeared, huh? The Council brought in one of those enforcers to get rid of him?"

"They voted to bring in an investigator who worked undercover for a while, figuring out exactly what was going on and gathering evidence."

"Undercover?" She shook her head. "Real cloak-and-dagger stuff, I guess."

"Well-"

"Who was the enforcer?" she asked. "Is he still hanging around the Guild Hall back in Aurora Springs, or did he ride off into the sunset after getting rid of the bad guy?"

"As a matter of fact, he's here in Cadence."

"What's he doing here?" she demanded. "Or is that top secret?"

"At the moment he's having breakfast. Hoping for a second cup of tea."

She closed her eyes and sagged back against the counter. "You."

"Afraid so."

She opened her eyes and smiled wryly. "And to think that I mistook you for a genuine Guild librarian."

He got up abruptly, heading toward the kitchen counter. "I was a genuine Guild librarian. Still am, for that matter." He picked up the teapot. "Just because I'm now the chief exec of the Aurora Springs Guild doesn't change the past or my training."

She had managed to put a dent in his icy self-control with that last comment, she realized. He had not liked the implication that he had misled her.

"You just said you were an enforcer," she reminded him.

"Investigator." He splashed tea into his cup. "But since an investigator invariably has to do his work undercover, it means he has to have a real job that provides a legitimate cover."

"So you became a real librarian?"

"I like the work." He put the pot down on the hot plate. "I believe in learning from history. And the profession provided convenient camouflage for my investigations, regardless of the location. Every Guild has a historical archive. It never ceases to amaze me how people are inclined to underestimate folks who work with books and manuscripts."

"Well, I suppose your old job description isn't the issue any longer. You are now a Guild boss with a talent for raising blue ghosts. Last night we discovered that a blue freak tried to kill Bertha, presumably because she uncovered his drug operation. Obviously we have a situation here."

"Afraid so."

"What happens next?"

"I'm going to do some preliminary background work today. Then, tonight, you and I are going to dinner at the home of a friend of mine."

"You've got a friend here in town?" she asked.

"You don't have to look at me like that. Just because I'm a Guild boss doesn't mean I don't have friends."

"I didn't mean… oh, never mind." She raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "What's the name of this friend?"

"Emmett London. He and his wife, Lydia, have a town house in another section of the Old Quarter."

"What?" She straightened. "We're invited to dinner at the home of the Mr. and Mrs. Emmett London?"

He raised his brows. "Is that a problem?"

"They were all over the newspapers about three months back. Emmett London took over as Guild boss here in Cadence for a while when Mercer Wyatt was hospitalized."

Cooper looked amused. "I heard that."

She ignored the interruption. "Emmett and Lydia were local celebrities for a short time. The tabloids made a big deal out of their relationship. It was so romantic. And the wedding was spectacular. I saw the photographs in the papers. Lydia wore the most gorgeous gown."

"When the invitation was extended, I happened to mention Rose. I was told that you should feel free to bring her along."

"Really?"

"Evidently Lydia London also has dust bunnies."

"Good heavens," Elly said. "This is the first time Rose has been invited out for dinner. She'll probably spend hours choosing the right bracelet for the occasion."