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Back inside the condo, I felt my mother’s absence like a chill. I pulled on a sweater and filled the kettle.
When the tea was ready, I poured a cup, settled in a club chair in the living room and swivelled to face the floor-to-ceiling windows. Darkness fell with no word from Cain. I called Sam. He hadn’t heard from Cain either.
“You being careful?” I asked.
“Don’t waste your worry on me. I’m bunking in the station. Cain can’t pull anything here. Not without his team, and they’re gone. You should come in, help me beat through your mother’s paperwork.”
“Maybe I will. Later though. I have to drop James’s tracker somewhere convincing, and after that, there’s someone I have to talk to.”
“The doctor?” Sam knew Avery was one of us, but he respected that I wasn’t at liberty to confirm that information.
“Yeah. I don’t want to do it over the phone. I’m going to fly over there.” I hung up relieved to know Sam was safely ensconced at the police station with a project to keep boredom at bay.
Next, I dialled Avery and invited myself over. I changed into the dark clothes that would mask my flight, set the condo’s security alarm and ghosted to the rooftop for the second time that day. The evening was cool but dry. Perfect for flight. Avery lived in St. George, an old-money neighbourhood thirty minutes south of me. I checked my ponytail, fastened my Ryders and lifted off, desperate for the release that flight always provided.
Once over the Pacific, I let loose the speed that marked my gift as Jolene’s. The wind cleansed my mind, cleansed my body. There wasn’t a drug in the world that came close to the euphoria that flight instilled in every fibre of my being.
South of the Vancouver airport, I flew inland and used my wrist-mounted GPS to zero in on the Marriott Hotel. After landing on the roof, I tucked James’s tracker under a loose piece of flashing and resumed my flight to St. George.
By the time I’d arrived at Avery’s, the day’s stress was flushed out and I felt invigorated. I dropped into the tree cover in Avery’s backyard and brushed myself off as I approached his back door. The lights were on but through the French doors, I could see that he wasn’t in the kitchen. I removed my Ryders and tapped on the door.
He appeared from his study on the left. “Emelynn,” he said, holding the door. “Come in.”
I kissed his cheek as I passed. Avery was a physician to most in the covey, but to me, he was much more than that. “Hope I’m not ruining your evening.”
“Never,” he said, and pulled the door closed. “Victoria will be home shortly. Will you stay for dinner?”
“If I’m not imposing, I’d love to.”
“Not at all. It’s lasagna. We’ll be eating it for a week. What brings you by?”
I hated that more times than not, what brought me by was unwelcome news. Avery had found me when I lay broken in a hospital bed before I knew what I was. He’d taken me under his protection and taught me most of what I knew about Jolene’s gift. He was the closest thing I had to a father and I loved him dearly. The update could wait a few minutes. “How are the wedding plans going?”
He examined the reading glasses he held in his hand. “That bad, huh?”
“That obvious?”
He offered a sympathetic smile. “You need to work on your deflection technique. But since you asked, our idea of a small affair did not sit well with Victoria’s family. They asked us to consider Christ Church Cathedral. Victoria’s an only child. Hard to say no. We’ll have to push the date to next spring, and you can’t imagine how many details need sorting out, but Victoria’s got a good handle on it.”
Avery opened the oven door to check on dinner. The room filled with the rich scent of tomato and basil. The cheese wasn’t yet bubbling.
He poured us each a glass of wine and we took them to his study. Behind the desk, the curtains to the back garden were drawn. We settled in the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace.
“Might as well get it over with,” he said, urging me on.
Avery and I didn’t keep secrets. Not about anything important. I couldn’t always tell him about Tribunal affairs, which he understood, but I probably told him more than I should.
I unloaded the latest news: about my mother, the investigation, Sam’s involvement and, finally, the business with ICO and Cain. He probed about Cain, and I knew he’d share with the covey what he needed to ensure their safety, but nothing more. Not without my permission. He’d earned my trust completely.
“And James?” he asked.
“He’s in California helping Mason with security ahead of the caucus.”
“He and Mason are getting along?”
“For now. Stuart’s been encouraging Mason to make an effort.”
Avery frowned. Doubt flitted across his features.
“There’s a reason for that.” I drew my fingertip around the edge of my glass. “James asked me to marry him.” Avery’s face lit up, but I stomped on his exuberance. “We’re keeping it quiet.”
“You said yes?” I nodded and watched his gaze slide to my left hand. “No ring.” James had given me earrings instead. Exactly James’s style. He valued his privacy and shunned public displays of affection. He’d said the sparkling grey-green stones reminded him of the colour of my eyes.
“Why the big secret?”
“That’s on me. Having kids has become a priority for James now that his family is free of the Tribunal’s control. I need some time to get my head around that.”
“You’ll be a terrific mom.”
My appreciation leaked out in a thin smile. “Thanks, but it’s not just about kids. My connection to the Reynoldses rubs James raw. The fact that I accepted Jolene’s inheritance drives him crazy. He hates that I’m a Ghost, and that’s despite the fact that our children, the kids he wants so badly, will be Ghosts.”
“Whoa, Em. If these were issues for James, he wouldn’t have asked you to marry him.”
“He’s convinced we can work them out.”
“And how do you feel?”
“I know he loves me, but he’s not being honest with himself.”
“You think he’s going to change his mind?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he should.”
“And yet—you said yes.”
“I thought I’d lost him when ICO had us cornered at Vector Labs. It scared me. Made me rethink some things.”
“Answer me this: can you imagine your life without him?”
“No. At least, I don’t want to.”
“That right there is your answer. The rest of it’s just noise.”
Victoria’s arrival ended our conversation. At the sound of her footsteps down the hall, Avery called out, “We’re in the den.”
She arrived through the kitchen entrance and dropped an armful of shopping bags on the desk. “Hi, Emelynn.” She bent her willowy frame to kiss Avery, and her long blonde hair fell forward. She straightened and with a flip of her head, flung the hair back over her shoulder.
“How’d it go with your mom?” Avery asked.
“She finally settled on a dress.” Victoria turned to me. “She’s taken longer to choose her outfit than it took me to find my entire trousseau. I had to threaten to elope if she dragged me to one more shop.” She handed Avery a folded newspaper.
“Sounds like she’s enjoying it,” I said, thinking of my own mother. Would she enjoy the mother-of-the-bride spotlight?
“A little too much, but as she reminds me, she’s only doing this once.”
“And she’ll have to live with the photos for decades,” I added.
“True. She wants my seal of approval on her choice, and I grumble about it, but I love that she’s so keen on Avery. We really are fortunate.” She beamed a smile at Avery that would have melted Boreas, the Greek god of the frozen north.
“Have you seen that?” Victoria asked, referring to the newspaper she’d handed Avery.
Avery unfolded it and scanned the headlines. Something caught his attention and he straightened. His gaze fixed on the front-page teaser. He opened the newspaper and found the full article. “Interesting,” he said with a poker face, and handed the newspaper to me.
The headline read, “American Tax Dollars at Work: Clandestine Government Organization Funds Paranormal Research.” Victoria’s voice faded into the background as I read the article. An unnamed source within the CIA was whistle-blowing from the grave. The article speculated the whistle-blower must have had high-level clearance to provide the details, which were released to the press when he died.
I looked up from the newspaper and met Avery’s stare. Victoria hadn’t noticed our diverted attention and collected her bags from the desk. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, and excused herself.
Avery waited until her footsteps faded away. “You thinking that’s the CIA director who infiltrated ICO?”
“A posthumous poisoned pill?”
“It might not have anything to do with us.”
“But the timing’s right,” I said. “Too coincidental not to be. I have to call Sebastian and make sure he knows about it.”
“I’ll give you some privacy.” Avery stood. “Need to check on dinner anyway.”
When the door closed behind him, I dialled Sebastian.
“Hello, Emelynn,” he answered. “What is it?”
A rude retort popped into my head. I counted to three. “There may be another hiccup. Have you seen the story in the paper?”
“The paper is full of stories. Which one?”
I fought the urge to define impertinence. I read him the headline. “The reporter says someone in the CIA had the documents, which were released posthumously.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Sebastian?”
“One moment!” I heard his footsteps and then a door closing. More silence. I waited. “Did Mason ask you to bring this to my attention?”
“No. I haven’t talked to Mason yet.”
“You sure?”
“Why are you asking, Sebastian?”
“This scenario plays right into his foolish notion of going public, does it not?”
Though I hadn’t thought of it, Sebastian had a point, but I quickly dismissed it. “Having our hand forced is exactly the type of situation Mason is trying to avoid. This sounds like the work of the CIA director who infiltrated ICO and set us up.”
Silence again. “Perhaps,” Sebastian said. “Stay close by. I may need you.”
“I’m not—” I’d been about to say at home, but the dick had hung up on me.
I tucked my phone away, upended my wine glass and joined Avery in the kitchen.
He stood in front of a chopping board preparing a salad. “How’d it go?”
“Sebastian is such an ass.”
“You’ve mentioned that once or twice before,” he said with a chuckle.
“He wants me at his beck and call tonight. Sorry, Avery, but I’d better go. I’ll head to the police station and wait with Sam. May I take this?” I said, referring to Victoria’s newspaper.
“Go ahead. You sure Sebastian can’t wait until after dinner?”
“Sebastian and wait don’t really go together. Will you say goodbye to Victoria for me?”
“Of course.”
Avery saw me out the back door and wouldn’t let me leave empty-handed. I waved before ascending through the trees. Skirting the suburban lights, I made my way into the city then used rooftops to hide my presence until I was able to drop down to street level and re-form a few blocks from the station where Sam worked, off Cambie Street.
I presented myself to the officer at reception. Sam showed up moments later and signed me in. He handed me a visitor badge on a lanyard, which I slipped around my neck. Then his gaze fell to the package in my hands. He tipped his head in question.
“Dinner,” I said. “Avery’s lasagna.” Neither of us spoke in the elevator, or in the kitchen, where we stopped to collect dishes on the way to his office.
After he closed his door behind us, he spoke. “What happened?”
I pulled the newspaper out of my jacket and handed it to him. While he read, I manhandled a slice of lasagna out of Avery’s dish and inadvertently decorated Sam’s desk with cheese strings.
“Shit. This the CIA director who sold us out?”
“Don’t know. The article doesn’t ID him.”
“Doesn’t matter. The CIA’s not going to claim him now.” Sam tossed the paper on his desk. “Funding for the CIA’s black ops is as secure as ICO’s. Even with the whistle-blower’s detailed accounting, those funds will be untraceable. Whoever the dead guy is, he’ll be a joke come tomorrow’s paper.”
“Sebastian seems worried about it.”
“Waste of energy. There won’t be any tracks to cover by now.” He rounded his desk and dropped into the big swivel chair. “This for me?” he said, pointing to the plate I’d dished.
“Yeah. You sure about that?”
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, his mouth already full.
“Just the same, I’m going to call Mason. Lord knows I can’t trust Sebastian to do it. He seems to think this plan of his to deal with ICO has rolled out beautifully.”
I took a seat in one of the two guest chairs in front of Sam’s desk, and while Sam ate, I found the article online and emailed it to Mason. Then I phoned him. “Sam thinks it’ll blow over. Says there won’t be any way to tie the funding back to the CIA or ICO.”
“The detective’s right. I’ll pass that along when I hear from Sebastian. Thanks for the heads-up on his suspicion. I’ll quash it. James told me about Cain. Any word from him yet?”
“None. James is putting a trace on my phone so Sebastian can locate Cain if he calls. I’ll have to divert the calls I don’t want Sebastian to overhear to the new phone James is sending. I’ll call you with the number.”
“And Laura?”
“Sam helped me get her out of here. She’s left for Toronto. How’s the prep for the caucus coming along?”
“We’ll be ready. And if Cain hasn’t made his move before the caucus, you come anyway. I want you here.”
“I know. I’ll be there.”
After I disconnected, Sam asked, “You’ll be where?”
“At the caucus. Not that I can influence anything—the leadership is preordained to change hands every five years—but it’s important to Mason. Moral support, I think.”
I took a bite of the lasagna. If Avery ever had to hang up his lab coat, a chef’s jacket would fit him nicely.
“How long can you stay holed up here?” I asked, gazing around Sam’s office.
He shrugged. “The sofa’s comfortable, and there’re showers in the locker room.” He pointed to a duffle bag on the floor at the end of the sofa. “I’ve got clothes. I’m good.”
Between mouthfuls, Sam caught me up on the research he’d done on the other passengers on Dad’s plane. He’d already dismissed one of them, a family doctor with a practice in Richmond. He pulled a notepad out of a desk drawer. “After the crash, his practice folded. The doc’s seventy-three-year-old widow died two years ago. When her husband died, she received a payout from an old life-insurance policy. No evidence of changed spending habits or new wealth before she died. She didn’t remarry. They had two kids, both married, both on good terms with the parents. Nothing surprising in either kid’s finances.”
“And the others?”
Sam raised an eyebrow and made a point of looking at his watch. “I’ve been on the job eight hours and already cleared a name. You aren’t going to be one of those pushy clients, are you?”
I wrapped my lips around my teeth to hide a smile. “Not me. Great job, Detective.”
“That’s better.” Sam wiped his mouth and balled up the napkin. “Your mom’s dossiers on the passengers cut my work in half, and I still have ICO’s resources at my disposal. Might as well use them while I still can. I’ve ordered new financials on everyone. Should have the rest of them in a day or two.”
I left Sam after midnight and returned home. Sebastian never called. Maybe he’d put the call in to Mason and decided the leaked documents wouldn’t amount to anything. An update telling me I could stand down would have been nice, considerate even, but that wasn’t Sebastian’s way.
