Amaryllis (22 page)

Lucas brooded over his coff-tea. “Are you telling me that you intend to spend the evening pursuing this damn investigation?”

She looked hurt. “I thought you'd want to be involved in this, Lucas. You seemed interested in helping me last night. But if you've got other plans for the evening, I'll understand.”

“What makes you think I had other plans for the evening? I can't conceive of anything I'd rather do than go through Landreth's desk calendar with you. Hell, I don't know why I didn't think of it myself.”

Amaryllis stood quietly in the center of O'Rourke's Antiques and held the focus while her client, Marilyn O'Rourke, turned a cracked earthenware plate in her hands.

“Definitely Second Generation,” Marilyn murmured. “A fine example of the early pottery techniques used by the founders. What a lovely discovery. Picked it up at an estate sale last week.”

Amaryllis smiled. “Your intuition was sound, as usual, Marilyn. I don't think you really need me.”

The antique dealer beamed happily. She was a short, fashionably dressed woman with a keen eye and an impeccable clientele. She had a standing account with Psynergy, Inc. A class-five talent with an ability to sense the age and genuineness of almost any antique she touched, she was a natural success in her chosen career.

“I always like to be certain.” Marilyn set the old plate down with great care and picked up a crudely painted bowl. “Besides, it reassures the customers to know that I've authenticated everything in my shop with the assistance of a prism from a reputable firm. So many charlatans around in this business, you know.”

Working with Marilyn required very little effort. Amaryllis barely had to concentrate in order to create a prism and hold the focus. It occurred to her that the difference between handling the dealer's psychic energy and focusing Lucas's raw power was like the difference between moonlight and sunlight. The first gave off only a pale glow. The second created a dazzling glare so hot and intense that it left afterimages on the psychic plane.

Amaryllis examined her link with Marilyn while the dealer went about testing the new items in the shop. It was perfectly normal. There was absolutely no sense of intimacy. Neither she nor Marilyn felt as if their personal spaces had been invaded in any way. They shared psychic energy in a synergistic fashion that allowed them to work together, but neither could sense the other's emotions, nor were their own emotions affected. They simply cooperated in a natural fashion to make use of a tool that required two people to operate.

No big deal.

According to all of the research data Amaryllis had ever seen, it was always like this when talents and prisms worked together.

Except when she worked with Lucas.

“I think that does it for this lot.” Marilyn smiled with professional satisfaction as she dusted off her hands. “I'll
call some of my Second Generation collectors and let them know I've got some very nice pieces in the shop.”

Amaryllis broke the link. The prism vanished. “Will there be anything else, Marilyn?”

“Not today.”

“Would you mind if I used your phone?” Amaryllis glanced at her watch. “I've been trying to get hold of someone all morning. She hasn't been at her desk. It's almost lunchtime. I'm afraid that if I wait until I get back to the office, I'll miss her again.”

“Help yourself.” Marilyn waved toward the phone on the counter.

“Thanks.” Amaryllis went behind the counter and picked up the receiver. She dialed Irene Dunley's office number and waited impatiently for a response.

To Amaryllis's enormous relief, the phone was answered on the third ring.

“Department of Focus Studies. Professor Yamamoto's office,” Irene said in firm, authoritative accents.

“Irene, this is Amaryllis Lark. I've been trying to get hold of you all morning.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Lark. I had a dental appointment, and since Professor Yamamoto was out of the office today, I turned the phones over to a student assistant. You know how that goes. What can I do for you?”

“I've got a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“I'd like to drop by the office after work today and take a quick look inside those boxes you packed. The ones that contain Professor Landreth's effects. I know it sounds a little weird, but I can explain.”

There was a short pause on the other end of the line. “You want to examine the contents of the boxes?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, dear.”

An unpleasant chill of apprehension went down Amaryllis's spine. “Is something wrong? I realize it's an unusual request, but I really do have a very good reason.”

“I'm sure you do, Miss Lark. That's not the problem. The
thing is, when I got back to the office a few minutes ago, I found a note from the student who handled the phones while I was out this morning. Apparently he did manage to answer them once or twice.”

“A note?”

“It says that a member of the family finally called about the professor's effects. They'll be picked up first thing in the morning.”

Amaryllis sat down hard on the nearest chair, a large stuffed leather bag affair that dated from the Early Exploration Period. “I see. But the boxes are still there in your office?”

“Well, yes.” Irene cleared her throat. “But I'm afraid I can't allow you to go into them this afternoon, Miss Lark. Now that a member of the family has finally come forward to claim them, I don't feel that I have the right to let anyone else touch the contents. You'll have to get the owner's permission.”

“Yes, of course.” Amaryllis tried to think.

“May I ask why you wished to get into the boxes?”

Amaryllis hesitated. There was no point alarming Irene by bringing up suspicions that could not yet be substantiated. “I was just curious about some of Professor Landreth's old notes regarding lab test procedures. Nothing important. Thanks, Irene.”

“Good-bye, Miss Lark.”

Lucas answered his private line on the second ring. He did not look up from the latest field report that had just arrived. “Trent here.”

“Lucas? It's Amaryllis. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel our date tonight.”

His stomach clenched. “Why?”

“It's a little difficult to explain on the phone. Something's come up. I have to go out this evening.”

“Alone?”

“Yes. Please, Lucas, don't ask me any more questions. It's better if you don't know the details.”

A curious mixture of relief and foreboding washed
through him. It didn't sound as though she had plans to meet another man, Lucas thought. That was the good news.

That left the bad news.

“Listen to me very carefully, Amaryllis. I will meet you at your place right after work. Don't leave home without me.”

“This is the second date that you've managed to ruin.” Lucas stood next to Amaryllis in the deep shadows of the towering university library and studied the darkened entrance of the building that housed the Department of Focus Studies. “Don't think I'm not keeping a running score.”

“Stop whining,” Amaryllis whispered. “I warned you that you wouldn't want to come along.”

“Yeah, you did. Funny, I never would have guessed that you had a hobby like this.”

“Like what?”

“Breaking and entering.”

Amaryllis pulled the collar of her jacket up around her neck with an uneasy motion. The light from the twin moons lined her delicate profile. Her expression was serious and profoundly resolute. One glance told Lucas that he didn't stand a chance of talking her out of this crazy plan.

“I'm not going to steal anything,” she said. “I just want to get a quick look at Professor Landreth's calendar.”

Lucas heard the thread of apprehension beneath the bravado and felt a twinge of sympathy. “Do you think they'll drum you out of the Corps of Upright Ethical Prisms if anyone finds out about this?”

“I should think that you'd be more concerned with being laughed out of the Western Islands Adventurers' Club for failing to strike the right note of devil-may-care recklessness.”

“There is no Western Islands Adventurers' Club. I dissolved their charter in a fit of pique years ago.”

“There's no Corps of Upright Ethical Prisms, either. I think it was disbanded due to lack of interest.” Amaryllis glanced around. “Come on, let's go. The sooner we get into the building, the sooner we can get out.”

Lucas swallowed another remark, which Amaryllis would no doubt have deemed negative, and followed her across the brick walkway. To his great relief, she did not head toward the front steps of the Focus Studies building. Instead, she led him along a shrub-shrouded path and around a corner to the rear of the department.

A moment later she came to a halt at what was clearly a service entrance. She studied the jelly-ice lock.

“With any luck, no one's changed the code since I left,” she whispered.

It would all be so simple if she were unable to open the door
, he thought. “Your idea of luck and mine are two different things.”

“Keep watch,” she hissed.

Lucas morosely did as he was told while Amaryllis punched in a series of numbers. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, campus security was lax in the extreme. He had seen no sign of a guard since they had arrived, and there was no one around now to witness Amaryllis's debut as a B&E artist.

“Ah hah.”

Her soft exclamation told him that the door had opened. She stepped into the dark hall and turned to beckon him.

“Hurry,” she said.

“Don't worry, I'm right behind you.” Lucas moved into the hall. He pulled the door closed behind him, cutting off the weak shaft of moonlight.

The darkness in the hallway thickened abruptly. Lucas heard a soft thud.

“Ouch,” Amaryllis muttered.

“What happened?”

“I forgot about the coatrack back here.”

Lucas dug out a pencil-thin flashlight and switched on the narrow beam. He aimed it at the floor. “Better?”

“Much. Very clever of you to think of bringing that flashlight along with us.”

“As a professional sidekick, I try to make myself useful.”

Amaryllis started forward. “Professor Landreth's old office is down this hall. I hope that no one's changed the code on that door, either.”

“Given the general state of security around here, I think you can count on it.”

“There's never been much of a problem with crime on campus.” Amaryllis paused in front of a door that had a frosted glass panel.

Lucas played the light over the name scrolled in black on the front. Euphemia Yamamoto.

Amaryllis punched in another code. The jelly-ice lock dissolved without protest. The office door opened easily when the knob was turned. Lucas saw the orderly stack of boxes against the far wall when he followed Amaryllis into the room.

“Five hells,” he muttered. “There's a dozen of them. It will take hours to go through each box.”

“Mrs. Dunley is a very methodical person.” Amaryllis crossed the room to where the boxes were stacked against the far wall. “I know her. She'll have organized everything very precisely. All I have to do is find the one that contains the items taken directly from the top of his desk.”

Lucas aimed the flashlight at the labels on the boxes. They were all clearly dated and labeled in excruciating detail. “Landreth: Private Files—Focus Studies Research Reports,” “Landreth: Private Files—Case Histories of Class-Two Talents and Associated Prisms.”

Lucas moved the light beam to another row of boxes and discovered more helpful labels. “Landreth: Personal Effects—Desk Drawer Number One.” “Landreth: Personal Effects—Desk Drawer Number Two.”

“I see what you mean,” Lucas said. “Talk about a clerical mentality.”

“Be grateful.” Amaryllis shoved a box aside to gain access to the one behind it. “Professor Landreth always said that Mrs. Dunley had a talent for organization. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together.”

Lucas flicked the light upward to get a closer look at the portrait on the wall. “Is that the great man himself?”

Amaryllis glanced at the picture. Her face softened. “Yes.”

“Vivien was right. He looks like a guy whose underwear is two sizes too small.”

“Don't be disrespectful.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Amaryllis tugged another box forward. “Here we go. This looks like a good candidate.”

Lucas moved closer to get a look at the label on the box she had uncovered. “Landreth: Miscellaneous Items from Desk.”

Amaryllis started to lift the lid and suddenly hesitated. Lucas glanced at her. There was just enough light to see that she was nibbling uneasily on her lower lip.

“If you're going to search that box, then do it fast,” he said roughly. “If not, let's get out of here. I don't like this situation one damn bit.”