“That would be Orville Sloan?” Fallon asked, as if he were only remotely interested in the answer.

Julian frowned. “You know about Sloan?”

“J&J is a detective agency, if you will recall,” Fallon said.

Julian sighed. “Right. Sloan was the broker Caitlin used. It looks like he was killed by a disgruntled client. It was bound to happen, sooner or later, given the nature of the profession. But the problem for us is the timing.”

“I’m assuming that means that the broker was shot after he had arranged for the delivery of the artifact but before he told Caitlin Phillips where the package could be found,” Fallon said.

“Yeah, that’s about it.” Julian turned back to Isabella. “Word of the missing artifact has hit the underworld. A lot of people are looking for it, including the drug lord and a certain black-ops agency. The agency wants that para-weapon found before the drug lord gets it.”

Isabella shrugged. “So?”

Julian cleared his throat. “Due to the rumors that circulated after you took off, a lot of people, including, we believe, the drug lord, think that you might be able to find the weapon.”

“Crap,” Isabella said. “Now I’ve got a drug lord looking for me?”

“Luckily I found you first. We have to recover that para-weapon and get it out of circulation. Once the drug lord realizes the Feds have it, he’ll stop looking for you because you won’t be of any use to him.”

“Nice theory,” Fallon said.

“For Pete’s sake, Julian, I can’t just pull missing stuff out of thin air,” Isabella said. “That’s not how my talent works. I need some kind of trail or a connection. Something.”

“Take it easy,” Julian said. “We know the general whereabouts of the weapon because we had a team following Sloan. But they lost him for a short time. When they picked him up again, they realized he no longer had the artifact. And then he got shot.”

“Where did he leave the weapon?” Isabella asked.

“Turns out the broker had a thing about old movies,” Julian said. “He went on a tour of the Vantara Estate. He had the artifact when he went into the mansion, but it wasn’t on him when he came out. We think he left the weapon inside.”

“You’re talking about the old film star’s house?” Isabella asked. “The mansion near Santa Barbara that’s open to the public for tours?”

“That’s it,” Julian said, grim-faced. “Ever been there?”

“No,” Isabella said.

“The house is an architectural monstrosity on the outside, but it’s even more over-the-top inside,” Julian said. “Dozens and dozens of rooms filled with an incredible amount of art and antiques. Sloan’s intention was to get safely away from the estate before letting Caitlin know exactly where he had hidden the weapon.”

Fallon thought about that. “Not a bad hiding place for a paranormal gun that in all likelihood won’t look anything like a real gun.”

“Tell me about it,” Julian grumbled. “I’ve sent people inside the mansion posing as tourists. I even got one of my hunters hired on as a night guard and had him take a look around. I went in myself twice. The mansion is crammed with antiques. It’s like the basement of a very large museum in there. Talk about a needle in a haystack.”

“Now you need Isabella to help you find the weapon,” Fallon said.

Julian looked at him. “We’re on the same side here, Jones. Arcane doesn’t want a potentially dangerous para-weapon falling into the hands of some drug lord who happens to have a little talent any more than the black-ops people do.”

“Agreed,” Fallon said.

“One way or another, we have to recover that artifact,” Julian said. “It’s the only way to guarantee Isabella’s safety. As long as the drug lord thinks she can find it, she’s in danger.”

Fallon looked at Isabella. “Your call.”

She folded her arms and looked at Fallon. “Do you believe him?”

Fallon opened his senses again. Points of light appeared on the multidimensional grid. Connections sparked and flashed, and the sector in which Julian Garrett moved was starkly illuminated in both light and shadow.

“I think he’s telling you part of the truth,” he said. “And I can call Max Lucan to verify.”

Julian looked at him. “You do that. Max will back me up.”

Fallon took out his phone, ran through a list of contacts and punched in a number.

“Lucan? This is Fallon Jones. Yeah, that Jones. I’m with a woman who used to work with you. Called herself Angela Desmond. Her name is Isabella Valdez now. One of your people is here with us. Julian Garrett.”

Fallon went silent, listening.

“Tell me about Caitlin Phillips,” he said after a while.

More silence.

“All right,” Fallon said eventually. “That’s it for now. No, I don’t know yet if Isabella will agree to look for the weapon. It’s up to her. Hang on, I’ll ask her.” Fallon looked at Isabella. “Lucan confirms the facts that Garrett gave us. He says the black-ops people do want the artifact and so does the drug lord.”

Julian looked at Isabella. “Satisfied? Do we have a deal?”

“I’ll look for the para-weapon at the Vantara Estate,” she said. “But no guarantees.”

“Understood,” Julian said. “Thanks.”

She narrowed her eyes. “But I’m with J&J now. If you want to hire me, you have to pay our fees. We charge for this sort of work, you know. We’re running a business here, not a philanthropic society.”

Julian did not argue. “Name your price.”

“Oh, we will,” Isabella said.

Fallon spoke into the phone. “We’ll take the case, Lucan.”

He closed the phone.

Julian cleared his throat and smiled at Isabella. “So, uh, I’ve never actually watched you work. Do you need to examine something that belonged to the broker to pick up the scent or whatever it is you do?”

“I’m not a dog, Julian,” she said.

Fallon did not say a word. He simply looked at Julian with a cold, unwavering stare. Energy crackled in the atmosphere.

Julian reddened. He closed his eyes briefly and then gave Isabella an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that I never really understood how you do what you do. None of us did. All we knew was that you were the best tech we’d ever had in Department A. But I was under the impression that when you searched for something that was connected to an individual, you liked to get a psychic reading on the person.”

“I’m a little touchy when it comes to how I work,” Isabella said. “You’re right. It would be helpful to have some physical contact with an object that the broker, Orville Sloan, also would have handled. The stronger his emotional connection to the item, the better.”

“How about his computer?” Julian said. “He had it with him when he was shot. One of the hunters I had tracking him managed to grab it.”

“That’ll do nicely,” Isabella said.

Fallon looked at Julian. “You can leave now. We’ll meet you at the Vantara Estate tonight. I’ll call you later with a time.”

Julian’s jaw tightened. “I don’t like the idea of leaving Isabella unprotected.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Isabella said. “I’ve been doing fine without any protection from Lucan for the past month.”

“The drug lord is serious,” Julian said.

Fallon looked at him. “So is J&J. Get out of here, Garrett.”

Julian hesitated, clearly unhappy. But he seemed to realize he could not win the argument. He left.

Isabella waited until the door closed behind him. She uncrossed her arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter, hands braced on either side.

“So Caitlin Phillips was the one running the arms-dealing operation,” she said. “I never would have guessed. But I suppose it makes sense. As Julian’s administrative assistant, she had access to all the data and records and connections that Julian had.”

“Maybe.” Fallon pulled out his computer and set it on the dining table.

“When I look at Julian, I see lots of fog, but then I see that when I look at you as well,” she mused. “Everyone has secrets.”