Obsidian Prey

Chapter 34

CRUZ LOOKED AT THE TELEPHONE RECORDS THAT JEFF had just tossed down in front of him. Vincent dropped the red crayon he had been playing with and drifted across the desk to see what was going on.

"How did you end up with Vincent?" Jeff asked.

"He's keeping me company while Lyra helps Nancy set up for an art auction tonight. They were afraid he would get into the hors d'oeuvres." Cruz studied the records. "What did you find?"

"Those are Valentine Fairstead's calls for the past three years." Jeff dropped into a chair. "I circled the ones he made to Flagg and Webber and those that he received from them. They tend to occur in clusters."

"Probably corresponding with the times when they were setting up thefts and sales of the artifacts out of the vault."

"That's what it looks like." Jeff leaned forward. "In which case we're looking at twenty-eight different thefts during the past three years. Fairstead also made some calls to various high-end clients at those times, letting them know that he had something special, probably. I tracked down the names and wrote them in the margin. For the most part they're the usual suspects."

Cruz moved his finger down the list of calls. "Here's the one he made to Wilson Revere last week."

"There are other familiar names there, as well. Like I said, most are collectors who have been known to dip into the underground antiquities market."

"Something I'm having trouble with here," Cruz said.

"What?"

"The street muscle that we've been assuming Flagg hired to whack me."

Jeff's brows shot up. "I thought it was more than an assumption."

"He denied it when I asked him about it."

"Well, sure. He's not going to admit he tried twice to have you killed."

"Everything else about this scam was well-managed for over three years. But hiring those four thugs was sloppy and unsophisticated."

"I don't know about that. If it had worked, you'd have been dead, and the antiquities scam would still be humming along."

"It just doesn't feel like Flagg."

"Maybe Webber hired the guys who tried to take you out."

"Maybe. But regardless, there's another question. Whoever used amber to generate those hallucinations that forced me to shatter obsidian was there that night. What's more, he's been stalking Lyra for about six weeks. Flagg told me that Webber was furious with her because she refused to cooperate with the amethyst experiments, but I just can't see Webber as a stalker."

"You'd be surprised by the profiles of the men that turn into stalkers."

"Whoever this guy is, I think he may also have been sending twice-weekly deliveries of purple orchids to Lyra."

"Okay, you've got me there. That definitely doesn't sound like Dr. Felix Webber."

Cruz sat forward and folded his arms on the desk. "In which case, we're looking for a fourth man, someone who had nothing to do with the antiquities scam."

"Someone who can generate hallucinations?"

"Yes." A familiar frisson of icy awareness shot through Cruz. "Lyra."

"What about her?" Jeff asked.

"Something's wrong." He reached for the phone and punched in Lyra's number. There was no answer. He was trying the number for the Halifax Gallery when Jeff suddenly looked at Vincent.

"Hey, what's up with the bunny?" Jeff asked.

Vincent had sleeked into full predator mode. All four eyes were open. He leaped to the floor and dashed toward the door.

"Vincent," Cruz said.

To his amazement, Vincent paused, looking back. His small body was vibrating with urgency.

"Wait for us," Cruz said.