"Just something?" Lyra settled down onto the lounger and took a sip of her wine. "Funny, I had the impression that you've been thinking about a lot of stuff lately. You know, finding the artifact, hunting a killer."

They were sitting on her balcony, a bottle of wine and a plate of cheese and crackers on the small table between them. Vincent was on the railing, munching on a cracker. The night was balmy and warm, and the great wall cast its eerie green glow over the Quarter.

"The particular stuff I'm thinking about is the way the gate of the amethyst chamber closed, trapping five people inside," Cruz said.

"You're back to wondering if it was something other than an accident?"

"I am." He ate a cracker. "You said the gate could have been closed by either stray waves from a psi river or a storm. You also said that someone working certain nonstandard amber could have done it deliberately."

"Right. In addition to amethyst, I'm pretty sure diamond or silver amber would do it. My grandfather told me that they have some distinctive properties. He said they could disrupt the currents generated by most of the other ambers. But both are extremely rare. I've never come across a single specimen of either in my work. So even if the killer could work one or the other, how would he get hold of a chunk to use on the gate?"

"I can think of one place. The vault at the lab."

"Wow." She raised her brows. "You've actually got some diamond and silver at the lab?"

"Sweet.w.a.ters and their employees have been collecting specimens and artifacts of rare amber for decades. Everything goes into the vault, but almost nothing comes out. It's like the bas.e.m.e.nt of a big museum in there. Things go into storage and get forgotten."

"But presumably access to the vault is limited."

"Sure."

"Got a list?" she asked.

"It's a short one." Cruz drank some wine. "Felix Webber was right at the top."

"Well, that fits. He was at the ruin when it closed." She paused. "a.s.suming he could work diamond or silver."

"If he was able to work it, he sure as h.e.l.l kept the information to himself. It wasn't in his file."

"Wouldn't be the first time someone with an unusual talent kept the data out of an employment file."

"True."

She considered for a moment. "Originally you thought that whoever triggered the gate did it to frame me."

"That theory still fits. But I'm starting to wonder if there was an additional goal."

"What?"

"Another murder. I have a feeling that one of the five people trapped inside that chamber was the real target."

"You sound very sure of that," she said.

"I am."

"But how can you know something like that with such certainty?"

"The same way I know we were meant to be together."

"Your talent?"

"Uh-huh." He ate another cracker.

She pursed her lips. "You know, I can buy the idea that you have a talent for hunting bad guys. But this thing about the men in your family being able to know when the right woman comes along? Not so much."

"You get used to it after a while."

"Me, I'm going to sign up with a professional matchmaker."

"Why bother? Just be a waste of money."

"Maybe," she said. "But now that I'm going to be getting this big check from Amber Inc. as my fee for opening the ruin, I can afford to experiment with a really high-end matchmaker."

"This is all about making me suffer isn't it?"

"No," she said. "It's about me being really, really careful the second time around."

"Okay," he said.

Chapter 31.

CRUZ WAS AT HIS DESK WHEN JEFF STROLLED INTO THE office early the next morning.

"I've got Webber's parapsych profile," Jeff said. "There's nothing in it about the doc being able to open jungle gates, just like there's nothing in it about his ability to work unusual amber."

"That doesn't come as a shock." Cruz closed the file he had been reading and took the folder Jeff held out to him.

Jeff dropped into a chair and stretched out his legs. "I don't get it. If Webber was helping himself to relics from the lab vault, why didn't we pick up on it?"

"Like I told Lyra, there's fifty years' worth of amber in that vault. Every drawer is crammed with relics and samples. No one would notice if a few items went missing now and then, especially if whoever took them knew how to bypa.s.s the security alarms."

"Something Webber would know how to do," Jeff said.

Cruz rocked back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. He contemplated the three paintings hanging on the wall across the room.

"Here's what I think happened," he said. "Webber had a nice little part-time racket going for himself. Probably teamed up with Fairstead and the third man a few years ago. They kept the thefts small, taking pieces no one would miss. But the amethyst relics from the ruin were different. Each was worth a fortune on the underground antiquities market. Got a hunch they had never before risked swiping something that valuable out of the vault."

"Security was a h.e.l.l of a lot tighter around the relics, too," Jeff observed. "Unlike some of the other stuff housed in the vault, one of those artifacts would have been missed immediately. They needed to make it look like someone else had stolen the artifact. They picked the obvious suspect."

"Lyra. But something went wrong the night of the theft. One of the lab techs must have discovered them. They had to kill him to keep him quiet."

"They?" Jeff repeated.

"Webber and the third man."

Jeff eyed the files spread out on the desk. "Do you have a name for this third guy?"

"I think so, yes." Cruz picked up one of the files and handed it to him.

Jeff glanced at the name and whistled softly. "Well, this is sort of embarra.s.sing. How did you figure it out?"

"Process of elimination. There were five people caught in the amethyst chamber the night the gate closed. I'm almost-certain Webber was trying to kill one of them."

"So the Frequency PD was right? This is a falling-out-among-thieves scenario after all?"

"Feels like it. The problem for the police is that they haven't got a clue where to start looking for the other two thieves. But we found one dead in the jungle."

Jeff tapped the folder on the edge of the desk, looking thoughtful. "And this is the third guy. He looks good for it, all right."

"Looks good for it?" Cruz repeated. He sighed. "You've really got to lay off PCI. It's ruining your vocabulary."

Jeff rose, an unusually determined expression on his face. "I'm getting into practice."

"For what?"

Jeff started toward the door. "Guess I forgot to mention it, but I'm going to be handing in my resignation soon. I'm leaving AI Security."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"No joke." Jeff opened the door and turned partway around. "I'm applying to the Federal Bureau of Psi Investigation."

"The h.e.l.l you are."

"Thanks for your support, sir. I really appreciate it."

Cruz exhaled slowly, reining in his impatience. "Come back here. Sit down. We'll talk."

"Some other time maybe."

"d.a.m.n it, Jeff, Big Jake will have a fit. Not to mention your father and my brothers and everyone else in the clan. In this family we don't take up careers in regular law enforcement."

"No, we just work for people who can afford to pay for protection, and sometimes we do things that law enforcement can't or won't do."

"Including occasional favors for the FBPI," Cruz reminded him coldly.

"You know what that makes us? Mercenaries."

"That's ghost c.r.a.p. This is a private security agency, but we're not mercenaries, d.a.m.n it. We don't take money for that kind of work. Not anymore. Sweet.w.a.ters have rules. We've always had rules. What's more, we've never worked for the bad guys, even when there was money on the table."

"Okay, I'll give you that much. Here's the thing. I want to work for the little guy. You know, the folks who can't afford high-end private protection."

"That's exactly what we do when we accept a contract from the FBPI."

"It's not the same thing," Jeff insisted.

Cruz studied him for a long moment.

"How long have you been thinking about joining the FBPI?" he asked.

Jeff shrugged. "For about as long as I can remember. Ever since I was a kid."

"But you're just now making this career decision?"

"It's a little tough to make a career decision in this family, unless the career path in question involves an Amber Inc. subsidiary."

"So why now?"

"Why not now?" Jeff shot back.

"You need to give this a little more thought, Jeff."

"Why bother? That won't convince anyone in the family that it's a good idea. I've wasted enough time as it is. I'm tired of being a bodyguard."

"Is that what this is about? You want to move up? h.e.l.l, ambition isn't a problem in this family, and you know it. In fact, it's about time you showed some. There's plenty of opportunity here at AI Security."

"I've already made my decision. I'm not changing my mind. At least I've got one person on my side."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Lyra."

Jeff went out into the hall and shut the door with exquisite control.

Cruz looked at the closed door for a long time. After a while he got to his feet and went down the hall to the accounting department.

Chapter 32.

SOME TIME LATER, CRUZ WAITED FOR HIS PREY IN A shadowed office. He sat, booted feet propped on the corner of the desk, and thought about the implications of Jeff's unexpected outburst of rebellion. Lyra could not be blamed entirely, he decided, but the odds were excellent that she had served as catalyst and cheerleader.

Probably only the beginning. No doubt about it, when she became a member of the family, she was going to rattle the mag-steel barricades that had always encircled the close-knit Sweet.w.a.ter clan.

Footsteps in the hall pulled him out of his reverie. The familiar rush of the hunt crackled through him.

The door marked AI LAB SECURITY opened. Garrett Flagg walked into the room and rezzed the lights. He stopped short when he saw Cruz sitting behind his desk. He managed to keep his expression one of polite confusion, but he could not mask the flare of sudden panic that snapped in the atmosphere around him.

"My secretary didn't tell me you were in here, Mr. Sweet.w.a.ter," he said.