After Dark

Chapter 14

MIDWAY THROUGH the painfully formal dinner, Lydia reached a major conclusion about her hostess. She did not like Tamara Wyatt. More precisely, she did not like the way Tamara looked at Emmett when she thought no one was watching.

The speculative gleam in Tamara's gaze reminded Lydia of the way Fuzz looked when he peered at the pretzel jar. As if he was willing to devote a lot of thought and energy to a consideration of ways and means of removing the lid.

Tamara was sleek and polished, with an indefinable edge of glamour that would set her apart in any room. Her dark hair was bound up in an elegant chignon that accented her aristocratic cheekbones and fine jawline. A fortune in gemstones sparkled at her throat. She wore amber set in gold in her ears. The deep decolletage of her gown stopped just short of being indiscreet, Lydia had realized when they had arrived an hour and a half earlier that Emmett had met both the Wyatts previously. Mercer and Emmett had greeted each other with polite civility. But something else had been going on between Tamara and Emmett just beneath the surface.

It had taken her a little longer than it should have to recognize the resonance patterns between these two, Lydia thought. She excused herself for the delay. After all, she had been seriously distracted this evening. Approximately one-third of her attention was focused on the bizarre experience of being entertained by the head of the Cadence Guild. The remainder was consumed with speculation about the extraordinary little jar Chester had bequeathed to her. It was all she could do not to excuse herself every five minutes to run down the hall to check the elegant armoire where the butler had placed her purse.

Calm down, she told herself as a white-gloved waiter removed the plate in front of her. If the jar wasn't safe here in Mercer Wyatt's mansion, it wasn't safe anywhere. The only other place she'd seen with so much security was the University of Cadence Museum.

"So, Lydia, you're in the private consulting business?" Mercer asked with seemingly polite interest.

Tamara smiled. "Rather young to have left university work, aren't you? Most consultants tend to be older. More experienced."

Lydia pulled herself away from concerns about her purse. She ignored Tamara and studied Mercer instead.

Mercer Wyatt had to be at least forty years older than his wife. Silver-haired, with hawklike features, he was a man who was clearly accustomed to the accoutrements of money and power. He wore his amber on his hands in the form of large, heavy rings. As head of the Guild, he would necessarily have to be a very powerful dissonance-energy para-rez, she thought.

"It's not routine for a para-archaeologist my age to go into the private sector," Lydia said, "but it's not unheard of."

Conversation to this point had consisted of the sort of superficial patter she had learned to tolerate at faculty teas. Lydia had a feeling that the real talking would be done after dinner.

"Some people don't fit into the academic bureaucracy very well," Emmett said casually. "Just as some can't tolerate the corporate environment. Lydia has what you'd call an entrepreneurial spirit."

Tamara gave Lydia a polished smile. "How did Emmett find you?"

"I'm listed with the Society of Para-archaeologists as a consultant, and I advertise in the Journal of Para-archaeology," Lydia said smoothly.

"That's hardly a guarantee of honesty and integrity, is it?" Tamara said. "There are so many frauds and scam artists in the antiquities trade."

"Very true," Lydia murmured. "But on the whole, I'd have to say that one's odds of getting a dishonest P-A from the Society's lists are considerably lower than the odds of getting a dishonest hunter from the Guild hall."

Tamara's eyes darkened with anger. "The Guild maintains the strictest standards."

"Uh-huh." Lydia spooned up a bite of the fruit ice that had been served for dessert. "Is that why I've had at least two break-ins recently by ghost-hunters?"

Mercer pinned Emmett with a cold glare. "What the devil is she talking about?"

Emmett shrugged. "You heard her. She's had some unfortunate experiences with hunters recently. Kind of soured her view of the profession, I'm afraid."

Mercer turned back to Lydia. "Kindly explain yourself."

Lydia put down her spoon. "As the head of the Guild here in Cadence, you must be aware that there are some ghost-hunters running around the city committing illegal acts. What's more, they are summoning ghosts to aid in the commission of those crimes. My apartment has been vandalized twice."

Mercer's jaw clenched. He flicked a quick look at Emmett and then went back to Lydia. "Are you absolutely certain ghost-hunters were involved?"

"I saw the ghosts they summoned," she said very steadily. "Ask Emmett. He chased off one of the hunters. Would have caught him if the little sneak hadn't had an accomplice waiting for him in the parking lot."

Mercer's piercing gaze swung back to Emmett. "Is this true?"

"All true," Emmett said easily. "I assume you can assure us that the intruders were not working for the Guild?"

"Of course they weren't working for the Guild." Mercer flung down his napkin and stood abruptly. "I assure you, I will have my people look into the matter. The Guild polices its own."

"How convenient," Lydia said politely.

Mercer glowered at her.

Lydia turned toward Tamara, "So, what's it like being the wife of the head of the Cadence Guild? What do you do besides go to the Restoration Ball every year?"

"I manage to keep busy," Tamara said coolly.

Mercer studied her with obvious pride. "Tamara is an executive in her own right. Thanks to her, the Guild has established a very active foundation that funds several Cadence charities. She oversees the administration of the Foundation."

Tamara's expression warmed noticeably under the praise. "I don't do it all alone, of course. I am extremely fortunate to have Denver Galbraith-Thomdyke as my chief administrator. I'm sure you're aware of the Galbraith-Thomdyke family's long history here in Cadence?"

"As in the Galbraith-Thomdykes who pretty much dominate the social scene?" Lydia was impressed in spite of herself. "Give tons of money to charity? Patrons of the University Museum, sit on all the important boards, et cetera, et cetera? Of course I've heard of them. I didn't know they were connected to the Guild."

Mercer chuckled. "They weren't—until Tamara approached them and asked young Denver to take over the job of administering the Guild Foundation."

"Nice move, Tamara," Emmett congratulated her.

"Thank you," Tamara murmured. "I see it as a major first step toward elevating the image of the Guild in the community."

"Indeed," Mercer said briskly. "A brilliant first step, if I do say so myself. Young Denver is a lawyer. He has connections with all of the movers and shakers in town."

"So how come he went to work for the Guild?" Lydia asked bluntly.

Tamara looked annoyed, but Mercer merely chuckled.

"Usual story," he said easily. "Young scion of a rich and socially prominent family longs to prove himself to his father. Denver did not want to join the family law firm. Didn't want to go to work for good old Dad, I suppose. He wanted to stand on his own two feet. Tamara offered him the Foundation job and he grabbed it."

"He's very committed," Tamara said.

Mercer turned to Emmett. "You and I need to talk privately. Tamara, please take Lydia into the salon for tea. We will join you later."

"Of course, my dear." Tamara rose gracefully from her chair and began to usher Lydia out of the room.

Lydia glanced at Emmett. He inclined his head a bare half inch. She had no problem at all reading his message. She hesitated and then decided that he was right. They might learn more separately than they could together. Without a word she followed Tamara out of the dining room.

They walked down a hall paneled in a dark, richly grained wood that had been polished until it glowed. Tamara led the way through double doors set with squares of beveled glass into a room done in yellow and maroon.

A frisson of awareness sparkled across Lydia's nerves. She turned and saw the cabinet filled with ancient Harmonic artifacts. So many of them grouped in close proximity produced more than enough resonance energy to reach her here on the other side of the salon. Automatically she went toward the cabinet and came to a halt in front of it.

"A magnificent collection," she murmured.

"My husband started it years ago, long before we were married." Tamara picked up the pot that had been placed on a small round table. "Tea?"

"Thank you, yes." Lydia studied an oddly shaped green quartz panel that had probably formed a portion of a tomb chamber door. "You and your husband were married a year ago, weren't you? I seem to recall seeing something about it in the papers. You're not from Cadence, are you?"

"No. I was living in Resonance City when I met Mercer." Tamara walked forward, a cup and saucer in one hand. "He attended a meeting of the Guild Council there. We were introduced at a reception."

"I see."

"The reception was held to announce the engagement of the head of the Resonance Guild," Tamara clarified softly.

An icy sensation swept through Lydia. She watched her fingers to make certain that they did not tremble when she took the cup and saucer from Tamara. It wouldn't do to spill rez-tea on what was no doubt a fabulously expensive carpet. The Guild would probably send her a bill that she would not be able to pay.

"No kidding." Lydia sipped tea. It was, as everything else had been at dinner, excellent. "Whom did the Resonance Guild boss marry?"

Tamara looked amused. "He was engaged to marry me. But things did not work out. We ended the engagement soon after the reception. I moved here to Cadence a short time later."

"I see." Stop right now, Lydia told herself. Just because you see an accident waiting to happen doesn't mean you have to help it along.

But she couldn't stop. She had to know for certain. "So, who was this Guild boss you were going to marry back in Resonance?"

"Emmett, of course," Tamara said sweetly. "He was the head of the Resonance Guild for six years until he resigned ten months ago."

Mercer lowered himself into the plum-colored leather of the massive reading chair. He raised his brandy glass to his mouth and studied Emmett above the rim. "I will get right to the point. I had two reasons for asking you to come here tonight. One of those reasons is that I wish to offer you a bargain, son."

"I'm not your son." Emmett rested an arm along the top of the mantel. "And I sure as hell won't agree to any deal until I know all of the terms."

Mercer exhaled deeply. "I'll level with you, Emmett. I need your help. And I think I can help you in return."

"Why do you need me? You've got a Guild full of people you can call on for help."

Mercer shook his head. "Not for this. Let me explain. I haven't yet made any official public announcement, but I intend to step down sometime during the coming year. Only the members of my personal staff are aware of my decision. They have all been sworn to secrecy."

This was the last thing he had expected to hear tonight, Emmett thought. Mercer Wyatt had held the Cadence Guild in an iron grip for more than three decades. It was widely assumed that he would die at the helm.

"You're going to retire?" Emmett said warily.

"I've been running this show for a long time. Until recently the Guild was always the most important thing in my life. My first wife was a wonderful woman, but I never took the time to know her. After her death I was left with two children. I let someone else raise them. They're both grown now, and I've got three grandkids, but I hardly know any of them."

"Let me guess. You've finally decided to stop and smell the roses, is that it?"

"You find that amusing?"

"Let's just say it's unanticipated. What the hell brought on the sudden change? Get a health scare from your doctor?"

"Nothing like that. I got a new wife."

"Oh, yeah, right. Must have slipped my mind."

"I am in love for the first time in my life, Emmett," Mercer said very seriously. "My marriage to Tamara is a Marriage of Convenience at the moment, as you know, but we plan to convert it into a Covenant Marriage."

Emmett stared at him. "You want more children?"

"There are other reasons for entering a Covenant Marriage besides the desire to have children," Mercer reminded him.

Emmett grunted. "True love? Give me a break. Aren't you a little old for that kind of romantic nonsense, Mercer?"

"You are not a romantic man, Emmett."

"Neither were you, last time I checked. Terminating a Covenant Marriage is a legal and financial nightmare." He did not add what they both knew, which was that adultery was one of the very few legally accepted reasons for dissolving a Covenant Marriage. "What's the point of getting into one if you don't want kids?"

Mercer stretched out his legs and gazed into the fire. "Obviously you do not understand, so we'll drop the subject. The bottom line here is my intention to step down."

"No offense, Mercer, but I find it a little tough to grasp the concept."

"Why? I'm forty years older than Tamara. I don't know how long I'll have with her. I intend to enjoy every minute of whatever time I have left, however. I've got money, I've got my health, and I've got a beautiful woman at my side. I'd be a fool to continue to devote myself to the Guild."

Emmett contemplated him for a while. "Does Tamara know of your decision?"

"She knows."

"Huh." He shrugged. "So what does this have to do with me?"

"I want your help. And I'm willing to bargain for it. I know why you are here in Cadence. My people told me about your missing nephew. I may be able to assist you."

Tonight was turning out to be one big surprise after another, Emmett thought. There was nothing he could do but go with the flow. "Before we talk about doing any kind of deal, you'd better tell me what you want from me."

Mercer nodded slowly and sipped his brandy. After a moment he set the glass aside. He propped his elbows on the arms of the heavy chair and steepled his fingers.

"As I said, I am preparing to step down. But I intend to do so in an orderly manner, one that will leave the Guild on the right course for the future."

"In other words," Emmett said, "you want to handpick your successor."

"Precisely. I have worked for years to create a strong organization that can take care of its own. To a large extent, I have achieved my goals. All members in good standing can be assured of an excellent pay scale and a safety net of benefits for themselves and their families."

"So long as they follow orders, don't ask any questions, and don't cross you," Emmett said.

"I have always rewarded loyalty well."

"And crushed anyone who stood up to you or questioned your decisions. You're a real old-fashioned kind of guy, Mercer."

"I will admit that in the past you and I have differed on the subject of how an organization such as the Guild should be run."

"You could say that. Your approach is about seventy years out of date."

"It is true that I have honored tradition during my tenure as chief of the Cadence Guild."

Emmett grunted again. Hard to argue that one.

"It may interest you to know, however," Mercer continued, "that I have concluded it is time for the Cadence Guild to change."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"I intend for Cadence to follow the lead of the Resonance Guild," Mercer said steadily. "I want to see it restructured and modernized along the same lines."

Emmett searched his face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Entirely serious. But sudden shifts cannot be effected overnight. Furthermore, they must be accompanied by strong leadership. I shall begin the process of change this year, with Tamara's help."

"You mean her Guild Foundation work?"

"It's a start, and she is very committed to her charities. Her Foundation will go far toward helping to change the image of the Guild here in Cadence. But the task of restructuring the organization itself cannot be completed in the few months during which I will remain as head of it. Therefore, I must make arrangements to, as you say, handpick my successor."

A sudden dark suspicion sparked. Emmett folded his arms across his chest and leaned one shoulder against the mantel. "Got someone in mind for the job?"

"Yes, of course." Mercer smiled humorlessly. "You."

Emmett exhaled slowly. "I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, Mercer, but I think you may have accidentally gotten fried the last time you summoned a ghost."

"I realize my proposal is coming as something of a shock. But surely you can see why I want you to consider it. That's all I'm asking at the moment. There's no rush. We've got a year to make plans. Plenty of time to work out the details."

"There's nothing to work out. I'm giving you my answer right now. I don't want the job. I've gone into the private sector, Mercer. I'm just a businessman these days."

Mercer unlocked his hands and leaned forward. His fierce eyes glowed with energy and determination. "Listen to me, son—"

"I am not your son," Emmett repeated through his teeth.

"Sorry. Slip of the tongue."

The hell it was, Emmett thought. They were both aware of the gossip and rumors that had circulated for years. He had no intention of going down that road tonight. Not with Mercer Wyatt.

"As I was saying," Mercer continued, "I want to leave the Guild in good hands. Hands that can steer it on a new, modern course. You are the best possible person to do that."

"No."

"You're the one who single-handedly restructured the Resonance Guild when you took charge. You're the one who established the new ways, turned it into a business, made it respectable. I want you to do the same for the Cadence Guild."

"In case you haven't heard, I'm out of Guild politics. I'm a business consultant now."

"That is precisely what I want," Mercer said seriously. "A business consultant who is uniquely qualified to help transform the Cadence Guild into a respected business enterprise."

"Forget it, Mercer. I don't want any part of your plan. I wish you luck with it, but I don't want to be involved."

"I see." Mercer sat back in his chair. He did not look defeated; he looked more like a man who was content to bide his time. "We'll leave that for the moment, then. Let's move on to other matters."

Emmett came away from the mantel. He walked to the window and looked out over the lights of the city below. "Do you really know something about my nephew, Mercer? Or was that just a lure to get me here tonight so that you could try to talk me into taking over the Guild?"

"I'll be honest with you. I have no direct knowledge of young Quinn's whereabouts. But my sources tell me that he followed a young woman here to Cadence. True?"

"Yes."

"The young lady apparently disappeared, and your nephew, who, I understand, is a dissonance-energy para-rez, vanished shortly thereafter, according to my information."

Emmett looked out at the brooding, moonlit ruins of the Dead City. "Your information is good."

"There are some advantages to having been in my position as head of the Cadence Guild for so long," Mercer said dryly. "I've had plenty of time to set up reliable information networks both inside and outside the organization,"

Emmett turned slowly to face him. "What do you know?"

"I know that Quinn's lady friend is not the first young person to disappear here in Cadence in recent weeks," Mercer went on. "No one has taken much notice of the fact because none of the missing persons was underage and none appears to have had much in the way of concerned family."

"Until now."

"Until now." Mercer agreed. "In addition, there has been no indication of foul play."

"How many have turned up missing?"

"I can't be certain. You'd be amazed at how many young people disappear every year. Had no idea myself until I started looking into it. Most of them wind up on the streets or in Curtain cults. Some go to another city. No one seems to notice."

"Why did you suddenly decide to take notice?"

"Because when I heard that you were in town looking for your nephew, I made a few inquiries. I learned that some of the young people who have disappeared in recent weeks have been dissonance-energy para-rezes. Untrained ghost-hunters who were in the process of applying to the Guild. They never appeared for basic training and indoctrination. My first assumption was that someone had enticed them into a gang or cult or an unlicensed excavation team. The Guild takes a dim view of outsiders using ghost-hunters for illegal purposes."

"Bad for the public image," Emmett said dryly.

"Yes. This sort of thing has occurred occasionally in the past. It's been relatively easy to put a stop to it. But this time there are complications."

"Tried going to the police?" Emmett suggested mildly.

Mercer gave him a disgusted look. "Of course not. If I did that, the media would get wind of it in no time. I won't have the papers running headlines declaring that the Guild can no longer police itself. Not on my watch, by God."

"Right." Mainstreaming the Cadence Guild was not going to be easy, Emmett thought. Not with attitudes like this at the top.

"As I was saying," Mercer continued, "I have concluded that you and I might be able to work together."

"You mean you're willing to give me access to the resources of the Guild to help me look for Quinn?"

Mercer closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them there was a bleak rage in his gaze. "I only wish it were that simple. I am sorry to tell you that the resources of the Guild cannot be relied upon at the moment."

Emmett watched him for a long time as the full implications of that statement sank in. "Maybe you'd better explain."

"I have reason to believe that there is a traitor in my organization," Mercer said wearily. "Someone close to me."

Emmett said nothing. He knew what it must have cost Mercer to acknowledge such a thing.

"I had to go outside my own Guild just to discover what little information I managed to learn about the situation involving your nephew," Mercer said. "Someone I trust is plotting against me, Emmett."

"Every Guild chief has enemies. Fact of life."

"Of course. And I have dealt with many in the past. But this is different. More insidious. I have been unable to isolate the traitor. It could be anyone on my administrative staff. Anyone."

"Someone who knows about your plans for the future of the Cadence Guild and doesn't like them?"

"I believe so. But it may be more than that. It may be personal. I simply don't know at this point. I only know I can no longer trust my staff."

"What does that have to do with luring young, untrained hunters off the street?"

"It has occurred to me that this traitor, whoever he is, may be trying to create his own private army of hunters who will take orders directly from him and who will be loyal only to him."

"Set up a rival organization? Hell, Mercer, that's a little over the top, isn't it?"

"Think about it," Mercer insisted. "If this bastard wishes to go against me, he will need a power base. That means he will need his own trained ghost-hunters. What better way to do that than to grab young ones who have not yet been indoctrinated into the Guild?"

Emmett whistled soundlessly. "Are you sure you're not sliding into paranoia here, Mercer?"

"I'm being careful. There's a difference."

There was a difference, Emmett reflected, but it was not always easy to see it when you were a Guild boss.

Mercer Wyatt was not a stupid man, he reminded himself, even if he was seriously lovestruck at the moment. Wyatt was smart, powerful, and, above all, he was a survivor. If his instincts told him he had a traitor on his staff, chances were good that he was right.

Emmett studied the pattern of the carpet beneath his feet for a while. Then he looked up. "What all this boils down to is you want me to get rid of your so-called traitor for you."

"I won't deny that I need your assistance in this unpleasant affair, since I can no longer trust my personal staff. The way I see it, our interests are aligned, son. You want to find your nephew. I want the person who may have caused him to disappear."

Emmett ignored the son reference this time. He had other priorities now. He contemplated the city lights for several long seconds while he weighed the pros and cons of getting more closely involved with Mercer Wyatt.

The truth was, he had very little choice. Quinn's safety came first.

"What information can you give me?" he said at last.

"Not much, I admit. As I said, I had to go outside the Guild to get even that. On your own, you will no doubt stumble onto the few facts I've got. But at least I can save you some time. And time may be of the essence here."

Emmett looked at him over his shoulder. "I'm listening."

Mercer leaned forward in his chair, his expression intense. "The day your nephew disappeared, he paid a visit to a youth shelter in the Old Quarter near the east wall."

"What's the name of the place?" Emmett asked swiftly.

"It's called the Transverse Wave. It was founded years ago by the Anderson Ames Trust. It's a place to start looking, Emmett, but I want your word that you will be discreet."

"Why the hell do you care if I'm discreet?"

Mercer sighed. "Two years ago Anderson Ames died. When the lawyers finally unraveled the trust, which took several months, it was discovered to be nearly bankrupt. The Transverse Wave Youth Shelter was in danger of closing last year, but at the last minute new funding was found for it. Just in time to enable it to remain open."

"Oh, shit." He had the whole picture now, Emmett realized. "You're going to tell me that the Guild Foundation stepped in and is now supporting the Transverse Wave, aren't you? The reason you want me to be discreet is because the shelter is one of Tamara's new pet charity projects."

Mercer narrowed his eyes. He suddenly looked like the ruthless specter-cat that he was. "Tamara knows nothing of my suspicions. I want this mess cleaned up without any publicity that might embarrass her or the Guild Foundation. Is that understood?"