It was weird, North thought, but until he walked into the Vault and saw Sierra Raines waiting for him in a booth, he had never realized he had a thing for women in leather. Leather, after all, wasn’t unusual or exotic or trendy in his world. A lot of cleaners, including the women, wore it. But on Sierra it looked different. Sexy as hell.
It wasn’t just the leather that appealed. He had been right when he had studied her photo in the file that Lucas had given him. Sierra wasn’t Las Vegas beautiful. No, she was compelling. Strong-willed, intelligent and gutsy. It was, of course, the perfect camouflage for a professional con artist.
But something—everything—about Sierra had revived his spirits, and not just the physical side of things. He reminded himself that she might be an experienced con artist, but his intuition was sending him other messages. Or maybe it was another part of his anatomy that was making him want to trust her.
All he knew was that her energy quickened his senses and offered him what was probably a false sense of hope. He seized on that silent promise because he was in desperate need of hope. Then again, that was the core talent of a professional con artist—the ability to make the mark believe that what he wanted most in the world was within reach. Just trust me.
Having agreed to work with him, she had lost no time in taking him straight to Swan Antiques. He probably would have wasted an hour or more trying to find the place on his own. The shop was located halfway down an alley in the Pioneer Square neighborhood, an old part of town distinguished by narrow lanes and unmarked doorways.
The best thing you could say about the address of Swan’s shop was that it was atmospheric. But alleys were alleys the world over. He had seen enough of them to know that by their very nature they attracted those who preferred to avoid the bright lights of busier, more crowded thoroughfares. A lot of trade in hot artifacts was done in alleys.
“Of course I remember Mr. Chastain,” Gwendolyn Swan said. “I sold him a vintage radio. There was definitely some heat in it but it was low-level energy, the kind that gets picked up from sitting around in a hot environment. Why are you interested in it?”
“I’m trying to trace the artifact,” North said. “It’s a crucial element in my investigation.”
“I just told you, your father purchased it. I never saw it again after he took it out of this shop.”
“Chandler Chastain was attacked a few hours after he bought that artifact from you,” North said. “The relic has gone missing. That means there’s a connection.”
Gwendolyn bristled. “I’m sorry to hear that, but if you’re implying I had something to do with the attack on Mr. Chastain—”
“No, damn it. I’m trying to get a lead.”
Gwendolyn Swan was an attractive woman in her thirties, very businesslike. Her hair was pinned up in a no-nonsense twist. She watched him with undisguised wariness. He didn’t take it personally. He had learned long ago that no one in the underground market liked to start the day with a visit from someone from the Foundation.
Before entering the shop Sierra had suggested he let her handle the inquiries. He had brushed aside the offer. He was the investigator, after all. He knew what he was doing.
Swan was cooperating, but in a minimalist way. Like most dealers she was suspicious of anyone connected to the Foundation. The Rancourts had left a legacy that was proving hard to overcome. And, okay, he was probably not handling things in the most diplomatic manner. He couldn’t help it. The abiding sense of urgency was riding him hard.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Gwendolyn snapped. “I can show you the paperwork involved in the sale and I can assure you the artifact had a paranormal provenance. I picked it up at an estate auction. It was in a crate together with a lot of other low-level artifacts. Your father examined several items that came in the same shipment but the radio was the only thing he took with him.”
Sierra apparently concluded there was nothing for her to do. She turned away from the counter and started to wander through the array of statues, vases and miscellaneous antiques that littered the shop floor. As far as North could tell everything looked like a reproduction or an outright fake.
Sierra had explained that everyone in the trade knew the real artifacts were downstairs in the basement of Swan’s shop. That was typical of most dealers. The good stuff was always stored belowground, where the earth and sturdy construction materials, such as concrete and steel, shielded the paranormal currents and made it harder for raiders to detect the objects.
“Do you think the radio came from one of the lost labs?” North asked.
Gwendolyn shrugged. “In my professional opinion it’s a possibility. But I make no guarantees when it comes to the authenticity of lost lab artifacts. Mr. Chastain understood that. The relic could have picked up some energy simply by sitting around in a collector’s vault for several years.”
Out of the corner of his eye North saw Sierra stop in front of a display stand that held an old twentieth-century camera. She picked it up to take a closer look.
Gwendolyn watched her with slightly narrowed eyes, as if she was afraid Sierra might try to slip it into her pack.
“Did any of your other customers show an interest in the radio?” North said.
“What?” Frowning, Gwendolyn switched her attention back to him. “No.”
Her responses were growing increasingly curt. Her eyes flicked back to Sierra, who had just put the camera back on the stand.
“Interesting artifact,” Sierra said, returning to the counter. She stopped next to North, almost touching him. “I’m surprised you’ve got it on display up here.”
Gwendolyn blinked. “Why is that?”
“It’s hot,” Sierra said. “Feels like lost lab energy.”
Gwendolyn was riveted now. “Do you think so?”
“I’m almost sure of it. If I were you I’d store it downstairs for safekeeping. You know how rumors fly in this business. The raiders wouldn’t hesitate at a quick smash-and-grab operation.”
Gwendolyn relaxed a little. “You’re right. Thanks for the tip. I’ll move it downstairs later. No sense taking chances.”
North glanced at the camera and hesitated a little. Lost lab artifacts were always compelling to anyone who knew the history of the Bluestone Project. But he had a job to do.
Resolutely he turned back to Gwendolyn and opened his mouth to launch into another question. Before he could speak Sierra kicked his foot. He gave a small start of surprise and glanced at her. She ignored him.
“You mentioned you got the radio from an estate sale,” she said.
Gwendolyn waved a hand. “That’s right. There were several artifacts in the collection that were far more interesting.”
Once again North started to insert a question. Again Sierra abused his foot. She smiled at Gwendolyn.
“Did you ask Mr. Chastain why he wanted the artifact?” she said.
“Yes,” Gwendolyn said. “I was curious because he was obviously an expert and I didn’t understand why he would be so interested in it. He told me he thought it might have belonged to one of his grandparents. I realize family heirlooms hold a sentimental appeal for those in the bloodline, but beyond that there was absolutely nothing special about that radio.”
“Yet someone thought it was worth stealing from my dad,” North said.
Gwendolyn sighed. “I understand your concern, Mr. Chastain. I wish I could help you but I honestly don’t know anything else about the radio.”
Sierra narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Did Mr. Chastain show interest in any of the other artifacts in your collection?”
Gwendolyn raised her brows. “Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.” She shot North an icy glare and cleared her throat. “He made another purchase.”
North stilled. “Why didn’t you mention that?”
“Because you asked about the object he took with him when he left my shop,” Gwendolyn said, a little too sweetly. “And because you were starting to annoy me.”
Sierra cleared her throat. “Moving right along, please tell us about the other artifact that Mr. Chastain bought.”
Gwendolyn turned back to her. “Of course. I was going to tell you anyway before you left the shop. Mr. Chastain said he intended to return to pick up the other artifact today. But he added that if he didn’t come by, someone from the Foundation might show up to collect it.”
“What happened to the other relic he bought?” North demanded.
“Your father asked me to store it in my vault until he came back for it. If you’ll wait here, I’ll go downstairs and get it.”
North felt his pulse kick up. “We’ll wait.”
Gwendolyn whisked out from behind the counter and disappeared into a back room. North heard a door open and close. He knew Swan was on her way down into her basement.
Sierra looked at him. “Are you thinking the same thing I’m thinking?”
“My father knew or suspected that someone was following him,” North said. “He bought two artifacts—the one he took with him was a decoy. The other one he left here at the shop until he thought it was safe to come back for it.”
“Yes,” Sierra said. “That sounds logical.”
The door in the back room opened and closed again. Gwendolyn Swan appeared. She had a black metal rod in her hand. It was about a foot long.
“Don’t ask me what this is,” she said. “I suspect it was part of a machine or a tool. I asked your father why he wanted it. He said he thought you might find it interesting. Something about you having an engineer’s mind.”
She handed the rod to North. The instant his fingers closed around it he felt a familiar rush of recognition. He tightened his grip on it.
“Yes,” he said. “I am interested in it.”
Gwendolyn eyed him. “Any idea what it is?”
“You’re right. It was probably part of an old lab machine. I find vintage engineering artifacts very intriguing. I collect them.”
“It’s all yours,” Gwendolyn said.
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” North asked.
“Nope. Now, if we’re done here, I’ve got work to do.”
Sierra smiled at Gwendolyn. “I do have one more question.”
Gwendolyn tipped her head slightly. “Yes?”
“The crate of artifacts that you bought, the one that contained the radio and the metal rod, I assume it was delivered by a go-between?”
“Matt Harper,” Gwendolyn said. “One of my regulars.”
“Thanks,” Sierra said. “By the way, I got your message. When I finish this job I will be glad to authenticate your artifact.”
“Right,” Gwendolyn said. “Thanks.”
Sierra glanced at North. “We can go now.”
He was still trying to process the information she had extracted from Swan. Now they had a name. Matt Harper.
“All right,” he said.
She led the way out of the shop. North waited until they were well clear of the door before he spoke again.
“I had a few more questions,” he said.
“I think Gwendolyn Swan told you the truth. She doesn’t know anything else that would be useful. Our best bet now is Matt Harper.”
“The go-between who transported the crate that contained the rod and the radio?”
“Right. I’ll contact him. He may not know anything helpful but I think he’ll talk to us—or, at least, to me.”
“Why?”
“Matt owes me,” Sierra said. “Among go-betweens, repaying favors is not just good karma, it’s essential for staying in business. What the heck is that metal rod?”
“I have no idea,” North said. “But I do know one thing for certain.”
“What?”
“It belonged to my grandfather.”
“Griffin Chastain?” Sierra said. “Really? You’re sure of that?”
“I can feel his paranormal signature. Dad must have felt it, too. It isn’t the radio that’s the family heirloom. It’s this relic.”
“So we know it’s valuable but we don’t know what it is.”
“No,” North said. “But I’ll figure it out.”
“Hmm.”
He looked at her. “What?”
“Griffin Chastain was a famous magician, wasn’t he?”
“So?”
Sierra smiled. “It just occurred to me that the rod looks a lot like a magic wand. What do you want to do while we wait for Matt to get back to me?”
“Track down every dealer and collector here in Seattle who might have heard rumors of a recently stolen Bluestone artifact.”
“That will definitely keep us busy for the rest of the day and half the night.”