The music pulled her into an endless night.

Wyman Austin came to see me this morning,” Zack said. “Told me that he’s resigning from his seat on the Council. The official reason will be the usual.”

Fallon cradled the phone against his ear and propped his heels on the corner of his desk. “He wants to retire and spend more time with family and friends?”

The call from Zack was important but Fallon was having a hard time focusing on the conversation. An unpleasant restlessness had set his senses on edge.

“Right,” Zack said. “The steam has already gone out of the rumors. Word is spreading fast that Carolyn Austin started them. This morning I had a conversation with Hector Guerrero and Marilyn Houston. They are both convinced now that the Council will vote to continue funding J&J and the Nightshade project.”

“Good, because it isn’t finished yet.” Fallon rubbed the back of his neck, trying to get rid of the tension that had been building within him for the past few minutes.

“I agree,” Zack said. “Wyman Austin explained that Jenny finally told him the full story of what really happened the night Tucker died, including her role in it. She had been trying to protect her parents from finding out what kind of man her brother really was and dealing with her own guilt. I’m sure you’re aware that Carolyn Austin went into a very deep depression after the loss of her son.”

“Yes.”

“Took more than a year for her to recover. When she did, she became obsessed with revenge. She blamed you and the rest of the Joneses. She set out to try to destroy the family’s grip on Arcane.”

“Sure,” Fallon said. “I understand vengeance. It’s a solid motive, but there’s something wrong with the timing here.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been almost three years since Tucker died. Why go after the Jones family now?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the connection.

“Must have taken Carolyn that long to concoct a plan.”

“I don’t think it was her plan.”

“Got any ideas?” Zack asked.

“I’ve got a feeling that someone played on Carolyn Austin’s obsession with revenge. That person suggested a way to destroy the Jones family’s grip on Arcane, and Carolyn ran with it.”

“You’re thinking Nightshade, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll let you work that angle. I’ve got a budget to get through my Council while everyone is feeling more charitable towards J&J.”

“Congratulations,” Fallon said. “The Jones show of force seems to have worked.”

Zack laughed. “I don’t think that filling the room with a lot of Joneses was what turned the tide.”

“Maybe it was my new status as a psychic Sherlock Holmes.”

“Don’t knock it. Isabella’s defense of your investigational talents is definitely proving to be an asset. Several key members of the Council are now referring to you as Sherlock.”

Fallon groaned. “Just what I need.”

“Goes to show that language is everything,” Zack said. “You can thank your new assistant for giving you a new image within Arcane.”

“You can thank her for Wyman Austin’s resignation, too.”

“Yeah?” Zack sounded interested.

“Jenny and I had a long talk out on the hotel terrace. Isabella was there. She helped Jenny deal with what happened on the night of Tucker’s death. There was a lot of crying, and afterward Jenny seemed relieved or something.”

“Thanks to Isabella?”

“Yes.”

“Lot of good energy around your new assistant,” Zack said.

“She’s a full investigator here at the firm now.”

“Right. So when are you going to marry her and make her a partner?”

Fallon felt something snap inside him. “It’s not that easy, damn it.”

“Hey, hey, calm down, cousin. Didn’t mean to shock you. I just assumed—”

“When it comes to Isabella, don’t ever assume anything.” Fallon surged to his feet, phone clenched in his hand. “You think it’s easy to marry her?”

“Well, Aunt Maryann approves of her. She told your folks that it was a perfect match. Naturally your parents told mine.”

“And now everyone in the family thinks I’m going to marry Isabella?”

“It would seem to be the logical next step,” Zack said, speaking carefully now.

“This hasn’t got a damn thing to do with logic.”

“With you, everything comes down to logic. Am I missing something in this equation?”

“People in Isabella’s family don’t get married,” Fallon said through his teeth.

“Some kind of religious thing?”

“Some kind of conspiracy theory thing. Marriages mean licenses. Isabella was raised not to leave a paper trail. She doesn’t even have a birth certificate.”

“So we’re just talking about a piece of paper?”

Fallon exhaled slowly, forcing himself to regain control. “I’m overreacting here, aren’t I?”

“You do sound uncharacteristically emotional,” Zack agreed. “But you’re a Jones and you’re in love. We get emotional about this kind of stuff in our family.”

“It’s not just the license,” Fallon admitted after a while. “I don’t want her to stay with me out of gratitude or pity.”

“Gratitude? Pity? Trust me, Fallon, a lot of people feel a lot of things when it comes to you, but gratitude and pity are rarely on the list. Why would Isabella feel either?”

“Can’t talk about it right now. Got work to do.”

“Wait, don’t hang up.”

“Serves you right after all the times you hung up on me when you were working as a contract agent for J&J.”

Fallon cut the connection and went to the window. From that angle he could see most of the counter inside the Sunshine. Isabella was no longer inside the café. She must have finished her morning break and must have now been on her way around the corner to the grocery store. She would spend a few minutes chatting with Harriet Stokes while she collected the mail.

She’s okay.

But his Jones intuition was riding him hard now, lifting the hair on the nape of his neck. He needed to find Isabella. There was no logical reason to take the gun, but he pulled out the lowest drawer of the desk and picked up the weapon and the holster.

He buckled the gun in place, took his leather jacket off the wall hook and went to the door. He would just amble down the street to the grocery store and intercept Isabella when she emerged with the mail. They could have another cup of coffee and tea together at the Sunshine.

The computer pinged. Something important had just come in. He went back across the room to see the new data that had arrived.

I’m like one of Pavlov’s dogs, he thought morosely. I respond to that damn ping the way the animals did to a bell. I start salivating. My reward is another dot of light on the paranormal grid instead of some kibble, but that’s the only difference. I’m a creature of habit and a lousy conversationalist. Even the bad guys get bored listening to me. What was it Garrett said? Not a lecture on para-physics. Just shoot me now.

Why would Isabella want to marry him even if she didn’t have a phobia about licenses and paper trails? Great. Now he was feeling sorry for himself.

The encrypted message was from Max Lucan. The buyer who commissioned the delivery of the mirror showed up at the motel where Garrett was staying. Sander Clay. The name should ring a few bells. He’s the CEO of Clay Tech Industries. Turns out the Feds have been watching him for months because they think he’s involved in illegal arms dealing (the normal kind). My people grabbed him when he tried to terminate Garrett. Got it all on video complete with sound. Turned everything over to the FBI. Garrett is talking as fast as he can. He even admitted to killing Caitlin Phillips.My work here is done. Any luck on your end?

Fallon straightened. He did not have time to respond to the query. The need to find Isabella was escalating.