Copper Beach: A Dark Legacy Novel (35 page)

“I’m not sure yet.” He stopped trying to see the object with his normal vision and raised his talent to the max. The dull gray of the concrete floor and the faded paint on the walls were abruptly transformed. The basement was now lit with ultralight. The rocks and crystals in Grady’s collection glowed, bathing the space in a paranormal rainbow.

The buzzing-insect sound grew louder but not more distinct.

“Got it,” Sam said.

“What?” Abby asked. “Where? I don’t see anything except the rocks and equipment that you’ve already checked.”

“Go hot. You’ll hear it, too.”

Energy warmed the atmosphere as she went into the zone.

“Good grief,” she said. “You’re right. It sounds like a scratchy old audio recording of some kind.”

“That’s exactly what it is.” Sam went to the filing cabinet and examined the array of precision-cut objects on top. “A recording. It’s emanating from one of these.”

“Those aren’t crystals or rocks. They look like modernistic glass sculptures.”

“They’re prisms,” he said. “Very special prisms. Grady probably used them to focus energy as well as light.”

“There’s a recording inside one of those prisms?”

“That’s the only explanation that fits,” he said. “It must have been laid down with psychic energy, and probably tuned to Grady’s wavelengths. That’s why we can only detect a faint buzz but not distinct words.”

He picked up a heavy green glass prism. The shiver of energy got a bit louder but not much. “It’s very weak to our senses, but it was probably a lot louder, stronger and clearer to Grady.”

Abby moved closer. “I’ve never seen a prism like that one.”

“It’s called a retroreflector, a trihedral prism. It’s designed to reflect energy or a beam of light back to its source, regardless of direction. Standard equipment in labs. But this particular prism focuses paranormal energy, not the normal kind. If it was tuned to Grady’s aura, it would focus on him whenever he was in the vicinity.”

“Once it acquired the fix, it activated the recording?”

“I think so, yes. The prism detected our presence and triggered the psychic message when we entered the room, but since it isn’t tuned to either of us, we can barely sense the recording. Grady was never able to
tell where the voice was coming from, because every time he tried to look at the prism, it reflected his own psychic wavelengths right back at him, blinding him while simultaneously playing the message.”

“Sheesh. Over time, that would have driven anyone nuts.”

“I think it would be more accurate to say that it had a hypnotic effect on Grady. Let me have some of that Bubble Wrap.”

Abby picked up the scissors she had brought and cut off a length of the wrap. “I’ve never heard of a psi-recording. I didn’t know such a thing was possible.”

“The technology is in the experimental stage. This prism came out of a very sophisticated, cutting-edge R–and–D lab.”

She handed him the Bubble Wrap and glanced around the room. “What about the gun? Where do you think Grady got that?”

“Whoever recorded the hypnotic message in this thing probably made sure the gun was conveniently at hand when Grady went to Vaughn’s house that day.”

“Poor Grady. That thing looks valuable.”

“It’s worth a fortune to certain people.”

Abby frowned. “Think it came from your competitor’s labs?”

“No.” Sam peeled off a strip of packing tape and secured the Bubble Wrap around the prism. “This didn’t come from the Helicon Stone labs.”

“You’re sure?”

“Trust me.”

“So who else is running a hotshot R–and–D lab that could turn out something like that prism?”

Sam looked at her. “Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Coppersmith Inc.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, geez. This is not good.”

“No,” Sam said. “It’s not good.”

“You said the prism was valuable. Wonder why the guy who gave it to Grady didn’t come back for it?”

Sam picked up the bundled prism. “Maybe because he couldn’t get through the crystal lock on the door of this shed.”

Sam stowed the last taped and sealed box in the cargo bay of the SUV.

“Where are we going to store all of this stuff ?” Abby asked.

“We’ll take it back to the Copper Beach house for safekeeping until we figure out how to spring Grady from the hospital.”

Abby looked at him. “We are going to get him out, aren’t we?”

“Yes. But right now he’s safer where he is.”

“What do you mean?”

Sam closed the cargo door. “As long as everyone assumes he’s crazy, he’s not a threat to whoever set him up.”

“Oh,” Abby said. “I see what you mean.”

Sam started toward the shed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I want to see if I can remove the crystal from the lock that Grady used to secure his lab door. It’s a nice piece of engineering. I’d rather not leave it behind.”

“Good thought.”

She followed him back around the house and checked her email while he studied the lock. He would have to dismantle the whole mechanism, he concluded, which meant using a screwdriver and some other tools.

He was in the process of removing the lock when he heard Abby’s sharp exclamation.

“Sam, we got it.”

He eased the lock out of the door. “Got what?”

“The lab book.”

“But the auction was set for two days from now.”

“Not any longer,” she said. “Our preemptive bid has been accepted.”

He gripped the lock in one hand and looked around the edge of the door. “Are you sure?”

“Not until I actually see it.” Abby was aglow with triumph and excitement. “But I just got a message from Milton, who claims that he wants to unload the lab book as quickly as possible and he’s giving my client first crack. Actually, we’re getting first and last crack. He wants to know if we’re still interested.”

“Why did we get lucky?”

“In a word, me. I told you, my reputation is good. The bottom line here is that Milton is running scared and wants to unload the lab book as quickly and safely as possible.”

“He figures I’m the safe bet, because you wouldn’t be working for me if you thought I might be untrustworthy.”

“That’s pretty much what it comes down to,” she said. “He’s decided to trust you because he trusts me. But he wants to move fast. I get the impression that he is very nervous. Believe me when I tell you that it takes a lot to make someone like Milton nervous.”

Sam pulled the lock mechanism out of the wall. “Get the details. Tell him the money will be wired into whatever account he wants as soon as we have verified the authenticity of the journal.”

She sent the message. A moment later, she looked up from the screen.

“Done. Milton just sent the code for the pickup location and his bank-account information.”

Sam headed for the door. “Where is the pickup point?”

“A place where no one ever thinks twice about someone collecting a package.”

“I LEFT A SHOPPING BAG HERE A COUPLE OF HOURS AGO,”
Abby said. She held up the claim ticket that she had found in a sidewalk planter in front of the museum.

The woman behind the coat- and package-check desk smiled. “I’ll be right back.” She took the ticket and disappeared into a back room.

Sam glanced around. “Isn’t this a risky way to conduct business?”

“Beats the old locker routine at the bus station,” Abby said.

Sam surveyed the monumental glass-walled forum in which they stood. There was art everywhere, some of it hanging from the high ceiling. “Definitely more upmarket.”

The woman reappeared. She held out the shopping bag with the familiar department-store logo on its side. “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” Abby said.

She took the bag and opened her senses a little. Currents of energy swirled in the atmosphere. The object inside was hot. She looked at
Sam and knew that he had picked up on the heat. Without a word, he took the shopping bag from her. They walked through the front doors onto First Avenue and turned right toward the Pike Place Market.

“This better be the right lab book,” Sam said.

“I’m sure it is.”

“Wonder where Milton is? Think he’s watching us?”

“No,” Abby said. “I think he’s on a plane out of town as we speak. I told you, he was scared.”

“Like everyone else involved in this thing.”

“Except us, of course,” she said proudly.

“Speak for yourself.”

“Hah. Nothing scares you, Sam Coppersmith.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve been running on the edge of panic since that first day you came to see me on the island.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute.”

“Believe it,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve known from the start that you were in danger.”

She glanced at him. “And that scares you?”

“Like nothing else I’ve ever encountered in my life.”

“Oh,” Abby said. She was not sure what to do with that information. “I’ve known some people who were scared
of
me but not
for
me. Except for my mom, of course. But she’s been gone a long time.”

“Trust me, I’m scared for you. That’s why we’re headed back to the island.”

“Okay,” Abby said. “For now, I mean. I appreciate it. But I can’t stay there forever. After I break the code on this book for you, my job is done. I’ve got things to do. I have to find a new place to live, someplace that will take dogs. Got to put my old condo on the market. Then I have to get back to work.”

“We’ll take it as it comes.”

A brisk wind whipped Abby’s hair. She could see a bank of ominous dark clouds moving in over Elliott Bay.

“It’s going to rain soon,” she said.

“I understand it does that a lot around here.”

It was clear that Sam’s mind was not focused on the weather.

“How will we know?” Abby asked after a while.

“What?”

“How will we know when this thing is over? It will be easy to get the word out that the lab book has been acquired by a new owner and that the code has been broken. Heck, I’m sure it’s already out in the underground. But we can’t be sure that will be the end of the matter. What if whoever tried to kidnap me decides to try to steal the book from you?”

“I don’t think the killer will risk trying to steal the lab book from my vault. He knows that he can’t get through my lock.”

“You’re still convinced that whoever is after the book is the person who murdered Cassidy, aren’t you?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Now what?”

“Now we go home. Can’t miss the annual tech summit and the big barbecue.”

“I didn’t realize you were looking forward to it.”

“The weekend is going to be a lot more interesting than usual this year.”

“Why?”

“The killer will be there.”

THE COPPERSMITH FAMILY COMPOUND WAS ABLAZE WITH
fiery grills. The annual Black Box technical summit was concluded, and the big barbecue was in full swing. The weather had cooperated, with plenty of sunshine and temperatures in the mid-seventies. The long summer day was drawing to a close, but there was still some light in the evening sky.

Abby stood at the edge of the crowd, a glass of sparkling water in her hand, and tried to shake off the chill that was lifting the hairs on her neck. Everything looked normal. There was a line in front of the open bar set up under a large tent. Elias and Willow Coppersmith were mingling with their guests. The sound of laughter and conversation rose up into the trees. All appeared as it should, except for one thing. A few minutes ago, Sam had disappeared.

Earlier that afternoon, he had given a series of tours of his lab, answering an endless string of questions. Abby had been amazed at his patience with the children and teenagers. Afterward, he had done
his duty, socializing with the employees and their families. But now he was gone.

She took a sip of the sparkling water. She hadn’t had anything stronger to drink all afternoon, even though she could have used something to calm her nerves. A strange darkness was gathering at the edges of her senses. Every time she tried to focus on it, the eerie shadows flickered out of sight. But the sense of wrongness was intensifying. The only thing she knew for certain was that it was linked to Sam. He had set his trap, and now he was waiting for the killer to walk into it.