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In my room, I opened the drawer where I kept the crystal Mason had given me. Because his sister had gifted me, he considered me his niece. He’d asked me to think of him as my uncle, and I did. Likewise, his father, Stuart, treated me like a granddaughter. The crystal had belonged to Mason’s mother, Jeannette. It rested in a white-gold case of fine filigree. The necklace’s chain was attached to either end of the case. A latch on one side of the case opened to reveal the clear, six-sided crystal. It was an heirloom. Most Ghosts’ crystals were, passed down from grandparents to grandchildren.
In the hand of a Ghost, with a bit of pressure, the crystal would melt. When it did, the Flier would achieve that state where his or her physical form dissolved into molecules. Every Ghost needed a crystal to achieve that state—every Ghost except me. My crystal lived in my soul. It wasn’t a physical thing I could touch, and this kept it safe. No one knew the secret of my crystal and I planned on keeping it that way.
To me, Jeannette’s crystal was simply a beautiful piece of jewellery. I pulled it out of its case and warmed it in my palm. I refused to believe that the man who had given this to me, or that his father, Jeannette’s husband, would harm my dad. They had loved him. I felt it with all my heart.
When I finally crawled into bed, sleep played hard to get. Mom had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions that fought for space in the sleepless hours. I felt like a traitor to Mason and to Stuart. But if Mom was right, and Dad’s crash wasn’t an accident, then someone had to have set it up.
Loyalties warred in my conscience, tearing me in two. Sleep only came after I stopped thinking about who would have wanted my dad dead and focused instead on the possibility that one of the other people aboard the plane was the target.
In the morning when I stumbled into the kitchen, the coffee was already made. I poured a cup and found Mom with a large nautical chart spread out on the dining room table. The shadows under her eyes made me think we looked like matching poster girls for uncomfortable mattresses.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The Queen Charlotte Islands. Haida Gwaii. This is the area where investigators figured your father’s plane went down.” She pointed to a north-south rectangle the size of the islands themselves.
“That’s huge.”
“Two hundred and fifty kilometres.”
I took a sip of the coffee. Barely seven in the morning, we hadn’t even started the search, and already the task looked hopeless. “No wonder they couldn’t find it.”
“The pilot radioed twice before the plane dropped off the radar.” She pointed to an X drawn an inch inside the top of the rectangle. “They concentrated the search in this area when they still had reason to believe they’d find survivors.” She drew her finger around an area one third the size of the whole rectangle. “After two days, the search expanded based on calculations of the plane’s departure time, the route they expected the pilot to follow, typical speeds and the timing of the two calls.”
The smaller area was only fifty kilometres long and ten across but still a formidable search grid.
“I’m going to ask Sam to help us,” I said. “He can put his detective skills to work. Plus, he knows all the players and the risks.”
“I thought I’d approach the Mansfield Group. See if they’re interested.”
“No. It’s too risky. Your name can’t be connected to any part of this. If Sam agrees to help, let him handle the Mansfield Group.”
“Risky? How?”
“If word of a new search leaks out, I don’t want anyone thinking they can shut it down by threatening you. You can’t defend yourself. They can come after Sam or me.”
“I’m not comfortable with that.”
“Mom, be reasonable.” I pointed to the chart. “You’ve already done the legwork, reviewed the investigation and found the Mansfield Group. You’ve done everything. Besides, you’re leaving for Toronto in two days.”
“Don’t shut me out.”
“I’ll tell you everything I learn.”
After a bite to eat, I drove Dad’s old red MGB to my rendezvous with Sam. Our usual protocol was to meet at Denny’s, but both ICO and the police department where Sam was embedded were familiar with that routine. Instead, we met at Grounds for Coffee on Alma, in Point Grey. We’d used the coffee shop before without raising suspicion, and as a bonus, Grounds for Coffee made a tasty cinnamon roll.
I balanced a tray with our coffees and two of the signature sticky buns and claimed a small table at the back. Sam arrived and pulled off his aviators just inside the door. At six foot two with shoulders as wide as the door, people looked. They’d see a cop, maybe a military man. It was the brush cut. Without that, they might guess football player or pro wrestler. Sam didn’t move toward me until he’d surveyed each and every customer in the busy coffee shop.
He took a seat with his back to the wall, and only then did he look at me. “How many people are joining us?” he said, staring at the cinnamon-laced pastries.
“Wow, Sam. Leading with humour? Things must be going really well with you and Naomi.” Sam reached for his cup. He had the hots for an accountant named Naomi Russel. He wouldn’t admit it, but I’d seen it when he hired her to do a forensic audit a few weeks ago. “She still working on the Chinese embassy case?”
“As far as ICO knows, we’re all still working the embassy case. But no. Naomi finished up. I don’t want her anywhere close to us when ICO gets dusted. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything?” Sam pried the lid off his coffee.
“No. The Tribunal’s keeping us in the dark. Sebastian’s worried we might do something to tip their hand. I swear he thinks we’re morons.” Sebastian Kirk was the man who’d volunteered me to work with ICO. Not only did I report to him, he was also the current head of the Tribunal Novem.
“And James?”
“He hasn’t heard anything either, but he’s hoping the Tribunal makes their move before ICO read in a new handler for him. One less person exposed.”
“I never imagined this would be the note my career ended on.”
“Your career doesn’t have to end with ICO’s demise.”
“You think I can go back to being a cop knowing what I know, condoning what’s about to happen?” He picked up his knife and fork and stabbed into his sticky bun as if it had offended him.
“ICO set you up. General Cain may not have done it himself, but he didn’t stop them either. He didn’t even tell you we’d been compromised until months after the fact.” Cain was the man Sam reported to. He should have protected Sam. “You’re a disposable asset to Cain. You made the right choice.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier to live with.”
“No. You’re right. It’s not easy. But I’m glad you chose us.”
He nodded as he speared a piece of bun and stuffed it in his mouth. After he’d swallowed, he said, “You called this meeting. What’s up?”
Between sips of coffee and bites of sticky bun, I told him about the latest developments with my mom, starting with the coyote encounter and ending with her revelation about my father’s warning.
“Mason and Stuart are like family to me. I don’t want to think they had anything to do with my father’s death, but you know what they are, what they’re capable of. My father was afraid for his life, and he named them. I need to learn the truth about what caused Dad’s plane to go down.”
“Your father’s death was ruled an accident. No agency is going to reopen the investigation without compelling new evidence.”
“Which we don’t have, but we don’t want it reopened, at least not officially. We want to hire someone to conduct a private search for the wreckage.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “There’s nothing stopping you, but it’ll be expensive.”
I nodded. “I figured as much. Mom’s found a company with the technology to look for the wreck, but her name can’t be attached to this in any way. And that brings me to the crux of this meeting. How do you feel about taking on a new job?”
Sam licked glaze from his finger. “Considering my pending unemployment? I’m interested.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” I dug into my purse and handed Sam a piece of paper. “The Mansfield Group is the name of the company Mom found. That’s their website.”
Sam read the name and tucked the paper away.
“There’s more. My father was one of five people on that plane. If the accident turns out to be sabotage, any one of those five may have had enemies capable of murder. I want to investigate everyone.”
“I agree. You said your mom has the original report?”
“She has everything: the detailed investigation, newspaper clippings, the notes from the search team, charts, you name it.”
“I’ll need to talk with her.”
“Great! Why don’t you come for dinner tonight? Mom and I can be Jordan Investigations’ first clients.”
“Jordan Investigations?” With Sam’s chuckle, some of the weight lifted from my conscience. “You going to be my partner in this new company?”
I frowned, contemplating the idea. “If I do we’d have to rename it. Jordan Taylor Investigations.”
“At least you put Jordan first.”
“Don’t let it go to your head. It’s strictly an alphabetical arrangement.”
Sam and I shared a laugh. Even though the company was a lark, it felt good to have him on board. I trusted Sam. He had no twisted Flier agenda, no ego. Even back when he’d been investigating me, he’d been fair. Tough but honest. Just the kind of man you’d want to have your back.
He thanked me for the coffee and was halfway to the door when my phone rang.
It was Mom. “You’ve got company, sweetheart.”
“Who is it?”
“Sebastian Kirk. He says he’ll wait if you’re coming home soon.”
Crap! “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. And Mom, don’t let him see your charts.”
I rushed from the coffee shop and made it home without a speeding ticket despite my efforts.
Mom’s voice carried down the hall as I closed the door. “There she is.”
Sebastian stood as I came into the living room. “Sebastian. This is a surprise.” He wore his hair short and brushed forward. It reminded me of images I’d seen of Julius Caesar. Perhaps that’s the comparison he’d intended.
He leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. “A pleasant one, I hope.”
Never, I thought, but I managed an agreeable smile. Sebastian excelled at the gentlemanly manners game when it suited him. “I see you’ve met my mother.”
“Yes. Laura was kind enough to make me a coffee.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“We’ve been chatting about Toronto.” He looked at my mother with a smarmy smile and a twinkle in his small, dark eyes. “Looks like I have to visit the Royal Ontario Museum next time I’m there.”
“Oh?” The ROM? Mom must have been dipping into the reserve fund to come up with conversational fodder. “Did you tell him about your move?”
“I haven’t had a chance.” Mom stood and smoothed her slacks. “You’ll have to fill him in. If you’ll excuse me, I must be going.”
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Laura,” Sebastian said, and offered his hand. When she clasped it, he covered it with his other hand and smiled as though he wanted a donation. “Until next time.”
Mom schooled her face in a pleasant smile—the one I called her smile mask. Sebastian hadn’t fooled her. She turned to me. “I’ll be at the library if you need me.”
“Take the MGB if you want, Mom. I won’t need it.”
Sebastian waited until the door closed behind my mother before he spoke. “She’s a lovely woman.”
“She is. I thought you were in Ottawa.” Taking care of eliminating ICO went unsaid.
“Yes. I was. May I?” he asked, as if he needed permission to sit.
“Of course.” I took a seat opposite with my back to the windows.
“Is it over, then? With ICO?”
“In a minute,” Sebastian said, ignoring my prompt. “First, tell me about your mother’s visit.”
Casual questions from Sebastian were never wholly casual. “There’s nothing to tell. We’ve had a wonderful visit. Thank you, by the way, for arriving through the lobby.”
“Simply doing what you asked,” he said. “I have no desire to destroy your mother’s illusions.”
Illusions? I took a breath. Did Sebastian have to work at being caustic, I wondered, or did it come naturally? “I’m finished lying to my mother. She knows about us.”
“And you didn’t tell me she knew? I’m sure she’s wondering why I didn’t address it.”
“I’m sure she’s not.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I’ve been here ten minutes and already you’re being impertinent.”
It was dangerous to forget what Sebastian was capable of. “You’re right. I apologize. Mom only learned of the Tribunal a few days ago. She has no idea that you’re on it, let alone the head of it, so there’s nothing for you to address.”
“I assume you advised her on the need for caution, complete secrecy.”
No. I gave her a bullhorn. “I have. She’s handling it remarkably well, considering. She also knows that Dr. Stein was responsible for the break-in at her condo. That’s why she’s moving. She’s returning to Toronto in a few days to wrap up her work and sell the condo and then she’s moving in with me.”
“Dr. Stein’s the man she gave your father’s research to?”
“Yes. He’s a colleague. Mom doesn’t feel safe around him anymore. With good reason.”
“Indeed.”
Sebastian’s focus on my mother left me uncomfortable. “At the risk of sounding impertinent again, why are you here?”
Sebastian tugged at the cuff of his jacket. “There was a hiccup in the execution of the plan to eradicate ICO.”
He said it as if in passing but alarm registered. I straightened and waited for him to enlighten me.
“Cain has escaped our net. Disappeared.”
“What!”
Sebastian whipped his head up and narrowed his eyes in warning.
I softened my tone. “What happened to the bug I planted on him?”
“He found it. Used it to misdirect us. He wasn’t where he should have been when the time came.”
That trick shouldn’t have surprised Sebastian. It was the same ruse James and I were playing with ICO’s trackers, and Sebastian knew all about that. “When did he go missing?”
“Yesterday. The rest of the plan was executed beautifully. The data they held concerning us has been destroyed.”
Only Sebastian would gloat in the face of a major screw-up. “Where is Cain now?”
“I don’t know.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath.
Sebastian continued. “From what I’ve observed, Cain’s not the type to run. He’ll try to negotiate.”
“Which means he’ll contact Sam.” Sam was the conduit between General Cain and me.
“I suspect he’ll target you. You have the link to us, not Detective Jordan.”
“Terrific. He knows where I live. Now my mother’s in danger and so is Sam.”
“Jordan signed up for this. As for your mother, perhaps she could be convinced to leave for Toronto sooner than she planned.”
“Cain could be out there right now, picking her off.”
“After all I taught you? He couldn’t possibly know she has a connection to you. Unless you’ve been careless.”
“I haven’t.” Sebastian’s mentorship wasn’t one I’d sought. Mason had foisted Sebastian on me to get the man out of his hair in the run-up to his assuming the Tribunal’s leadership, a handover that occurred every five years. As arrogant as Sebastian could be, he’d taught me techniques thieves and spies would pay good money to learn.
“Then she’s just another tenant in the building. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Until Cain shows up at my door.”
“Yes. Which is why your mother should leave as soon as possible.”
And I’d told Mom she knew the worst of it. Damn. Telling her she had to leave, and why, would smack of my not telling her the whole truth. She’d worry about me, but not before she ranted and railed against the gift . . . again.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Good. And another thing. I’ll need to install tracing software on your phone in the event Cain elects to negotiate by phone.”
“You’ll have to organize that with James. He’s made my phone impenetrable. I can’t even download an app without his help.”
He offered me a politician’s smile. “In that case, perhaps you can have James call me.”
Far be it for Sebastian to make the call. “I’ll do that. In fact, I’d prefer Cain to contact me by phone.”
“Don’t count on it. You’re wearing his RF transmitter aren’t you?”
Damn it! I pulled back my sleeve and dangled the lockets on the bracelet. “If you’d told me about Cain’s escape yesterday, I wouldn’t also be wearing James’s tracker.”
Sebastian blinked. Once, twice. “Then Cain will be expecting both of you. What are you going to do about that?”
What a piece of work. “I’ll deal with it,” I said, shaking my head.
“How?”
Urgh! He’d donned his mentor cap. “Another lesson?” Sebastian hollowed his cheeks, clearly impatient for me to play pupil. I went with the flow. Not doing so would only prolong his visit. “We can’t destroy it yet. As long as Cain thinks he has something on us, we can use it. I’ll plant James’s tracker in a hotel. Cain can think what he will.”
“Lovers’ quarrel?” Sebastian said with a nod, and stood. That I was annoyed with him didn’t even hit his radar. My annoyance was beneath him, like a lower life form on the underside of his shoe.
Sebastian said goodbye and left. This time, it wasn’t through the lobby. He lingered a moment in ghosted form and then he was gone. When I could no longer sense him, I reached for my phone and dialled James.
“Sebastian just left,” I said. “Have you heard the news?”
“About ICO? Yeah. Mason had a report this morning and filled me in. A few glitches, but otherwise a smooth rollout.”
“A few glitches? A smooth rollout? Is that what he said? Who reported to Mason?”
“Don’t know. What have you heard?”
“Cain’s on the loose and Sebastian doesn’t know where he’s gone.”
James cursed under his breath. “What’s Sebastian’s plan?”
“He’s playing a waiting game—waiting for Cain to contact me to try to negotiate.”
“You? What about Jordan?”
“I’m closer to the power brokers than Sam. Besides, Cain knows exactly where to find me. I’m the one with the tracker.”
“Shit!”
“Yeah. Sebastian didn’t know I had yours on me.”
“Get rid of it.”
“Not yet. We may need it yet to redirect Cain. For now, I thought I’d plant it in a hotel somewhere . . . unless you’ve got a better idea?”
“I do. After I tell Mason what’s really going on, I’ll catch a red-eye and see you later tonight.”
“No. As much as I appreciate the whole knight-in-shining-armour idea, the caucus is only days away. Mason needs you there. I can handle Cain.”
“Cain will be desperate, dangerous. His entire network just evaporated.”
“I know. But I’ve got Sebastian on speed dial. Speaking of which, Sebastian would like you to call him. He wants to install tracing software on my phone to help him find Cain if and when he calls.”
“That’ll give him access to your calls. All of them.”
“Shit.”
“I’ll send you another phone, but until you get it, know that he’ll be able to listen in and collect phone numbers.”
“If that’s the case, don’t install the trace until I get the new phone.”
“I’ll overnight it today. Text me when you get it. And Em, I hope you were kidding about speed-dialling Sebastian. You can’t count on him to help you. You have to be prepared to handle Cain on your own.”
“I am and I’ll be careful. Besides which, I can do this nifty disappearing trick.”
“That nifty trick didn’t help you out the last time.”
His words caught me by surprise. I sucked in a breath. “I didn’t need that, James.”
“You can’t take Cain lightly. He’s a professional soldier. Stay alert. Please. You’ll keep in touch?”
The screech of the turning tables was deafening, but his concern felt genuine. “Of course.”
When we disconnected, I immediately dialled Sam. Ping-ponging from one crisis to another gave me indigestion.
“Sebastian just left,” I said, when he answered.
“What did he want?”
“They pulled the trigger on ICO yesterday.”
I heard him blow out a breath. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
“Not quite. Cain escaped.”
“What?” Sam said, raising his voice. “How’d that happen?”
“Seems he found the bug we planted,” I said. “Used it to make it look like he was somewhere he wasn’t when they went looking for him.”
“They underestimated him.”
“Sebastian thinks Cain’s going to approach me. Try to negotiate a way out. I’ve got to get my mom out of here.”
“Where is she now?”
“At the university, but I know her. She won’t want to leave me. She’s more likely to go if you’re here.”
“I can be there in half an hour.”
“I’ll book her a flight.”
Booking the flight was easy. Reaching my mother was another matter entirely. By the time Sam arrived at the condo, I had my mother’s things packed and by the door. The charts she’d shown me of Haida Gwaii were rolled up and neatly stowed in a weatherproof carry case.
“Mom’s not answering,” I said, when Sam questioned the luggage in the hall. “We’ll have to find her at the university and hope she listens to reason. She’s in the Koerner Library on the Main Mall.” We agreed to meet inside the front entrance.
Sam grabbed my mother’s things and I closed the door behind him. I made a final check to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything and then ghosted up to the rooftop. The daylight left me no option but to remain in ghosted form. My stamina was improving, but I could still only hold that form for thirty minutes or so before exhaustion forced me to re-form. I got my bearings and flew a straight line to the library. When the glass-and-steel building was in sight, I dove down, passed through the main doors and re-formed in a vacant meeting room.
I smoothed my hair, opened the door and nearly knocked over a skeleton of a man looking down at me through eyeglasses perched on the end of his nose. Keys dangled from his outstretched hand. “This room is booked. You’ll have to clear out.”
“All done,” I said, and whisked out of there before he wondered how I’d gotten in. Sam stood in the lobby looking like a guest lecturer in the criminology department.
“Hi,” I said. “This way.” Sam followed me to the stairs and down to the first floor. We wordlessly made our way to the study room where my mother had managed to appropriate a cubicle. She was hidden behind a stack of books, each one flagged with colour-coded index cards.
“Mom?”
She lifted her head, but her smile dropped at the sight of Sam by my side. “What is it?”
“We need to talk.”
Mom stood and reached for her purse. “Not here. Follow me.” She led us into the stacks and to the end of a lonely row of books that reached to the low ceiling on both sides. Sam played sentry at the head of the aisle and tipped out books as if he were looking for something.
Mom squared her shoulders as I explained what had happened. Her gaze kept flickering to Sam.
“Cain knows where I live, Mom. You’re not safe there until he’s dealt with.”
“Killed, don’t you mean? Using euphemisms doesn’t change that.”
“Would you rather not know?”
Mom shook her head. “How could Jolene, a mother, have done this to you? A child.”
“I’ve packed your things. They’re in Sam’s car. Your flight leaves at four o’clock this afternoon.”
“Did you fill in the detective on our plans to find your father’s plane?”
“Yes. He’s interested. But it’ll have to wait now.”
“No. I’m not waiting another moment. You say you packed my things. Did you bring the charts?”
“They’re in Sam’s car.”
“Get them. I’ll book a meeting room.”
“Mom, we don’t have time for this.”
She checked her watch. “We have thirty minutes. You’d better hurry.” She turned on her heel and beetled away.
Sam stared after her and shot me a quizzical glare.
“She’s not going anywhere until she gets you up to speed on my father’s plane crash. You know that canister in her luggage?” Sam nodded. “Bring it in. And her luggage. Meet us back at her cubicle.”
By the time Sam returned with the charts, Mom had a key for one of the meeting rooms and a portfolio stuffed with papers. She didn’t say a word as she marched us into the windowless room and closed the door. She took the canister from Sam and explained the reasoning behind the search area as she unfurled the charts. Sam held a palm against the top edge to keep it from rolling up. Two stars marked the plane’s position when each radio call was made. Mom shuffled through her papers and showed Sam the investigator’s calculations.
“Take the charts and my notes,” Mom said, repacking the portfolio. “The research paper on the Mansfield Group’s technology is in here, too. I’ll email you everything else.”
“Send it from the phone James programmed for you,” Sam said. “It’s encrypted.”
Mom nodded to Sam and turned to me. “I don’t like this one bit.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She leaned in and we embraced. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too. I must go,” she said, and pushed away. “I need to find my student and give him some direction before I leave. Take every precaution, please.”
I nodded. She spun around and rushed out.
“Looks like I have some homework,” Sam said. He rolled up the charts and stuffed them back in their carrying case. “Your mother is one determined woman.”
“Maybe a little too determined.” Sam cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not convinced she understands who she’s dealing with.”
“The Tribunal?”
“I’m worried she’ll cross them if this doesn’t turn out the way she wants it to.”
“Laura doesn’t strike me as careless. And I don’t think she’d do anything that might jeopardize you.”
I hung my worry on that reassuring thought and we went our separate ways.
