Read Do You Believe in Magic? Online

Authors: Ann Macela

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Magic, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Contemporary

Do You Believe in Magic? (29 page)

BOOK: Do You Believe in Magic?
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“Do you want the whole damn customer list? We could be here all night,” Clay grumbled.
“No,” Brenner answered and scrabbled in his jacket pocket. “Here’s who I need.” He handed a piece of paper to Clay. Twenty company names were written on it.
“Okay. Pull the sheets as they come off the printer and tell me if you’re getting what you want.” He incorporated the names into his search spell, and the screen displayed only those companies Brenner wanted. He hit two keys, and the laser printer started spitting out paper.
“Don’t forget the delivery instructions,” Brenner said as he scanned the first pages. “Damn. This is just what I wanted.” He read another page. “Shit, we can beat these prices. They must be making the sales on the delivery terms.”
Clay finished printing the delivery and payment data. “Anything else? Say so now.”
Brenner gathered up the pages and flipped through them. “No, no, this is great. Just right. With this info, we’ll be able to steal Brazos’s customers right out from under them. Man, I can’t thank you enough.”
“You already did,” Clay said, waving the envelope with the money and putting it in his pocket. “Remember, this was a one-shot deal. I never want to see you again. And keep your mouth shut about the origin of this shit.” He shut down the windows, then the computer, and rose.
“Right.” Brenner stood, then followed Clay down the stairs. “Thanks, Morgan,” he held out his hand as he stood in the open doorway.
With disgust, Clay looked at the offered hand, but shook it anyway to play out his role. He watched the salesman climb into his car and drive away.
Within seconds the police van stopped in the spot Brenner’s car had occupied. Bill and the team came into the house. Phil and Benny went upstairs to retrieve their equipment.
“How’d we do?” Clay asked.
“Just fine,” Bill answered. “What do you think, Joe?”
“The volume and pictures came through loud and clear,” Ramirez answered. “The man incriminated himself, no question about it. I’ll have extra copies for you tomorrow.”
“Good. We’re planning on arresting him tomorrow,” Bill said.
Clay handed him the envelope. “Here’s your additional proof.”
“Thanks for your help, Clay,” the detective said. “I’ll keep you and Brazos apprised of what happens.”
After Phil and Benny came down with the cameras and microphones, Clay shook hands with the cops and watched them drive off. Thank God that was over, he thought as he closed the door. Now he could get back to his more pressing problem. He went into the house, picked up the kitchen phone, and dialed.
“Hello?” Daria sounded disgruntled.
“Hey, it’s me. What’s the matter?”
“Oh, I’m just paying bills. You know how I hate to do that. What’s up?”
“Will you be home tomorrow? I need to ask a favor.” He tried to keep his voice utterly flat.
“Sure. I don’t start my next job for two weeks. What can I do?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He wasn’t going to get into it over the phone.
“Okay, Mr. Mysterious. Say, how are things with Francie?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“That bad, huh?”
Sometimes he swore Daria could read his mind, but he still wasn’t going to tell her anything now. “Ten o’clock all right?”
“Fine. Come tell me everything.”
They exchanged good-byes. Clay hung up the phone and stared at it for a long moment. Should he call Francie to let her know Brenner had taken the bait and would be arrested tomorrow? No, better not. He’d given his word.
Instead he called Herb and told him what had happened. “Great work,” Greenwood said. “I wish I could be there when they arrest the bastard. I’ll alert Legal.”
“Thank your computer operators for me. The fake database they created worked fine.”
“Will do. I hope Francie comes in tomorrow so we can celebrate.”
“You hope she comes in?”
“Yeah. She called in sick today. Left me a message in the middle of the night. She sounded awful, but she looked like she was coming down with a cold on Monday.”
An interesting bit of news, Clay thought. Either the game or the SMI had done her in, and he knew which one he’d put his money on.
“Anyway,” Herb continued, “why don’t you come by next week and we’ll talk about increasing protection on the system. If a jerk like Brenner can get through, our defenses aren’t worth squat.”
Clay discussed the Brazos system with Herb for a while, then said good-bye.
After hanging up the phone, Clay looked around his kitchen. It was only nine o’clock, too early for bed, even if he had had only four or five hours of sleep the night before. Not to mention he was still keyed up from playing crook with Brenner. So he went back to the computer, started up a complicated sword and sorcery game, and took some pleasure in chopping off the heads of goblins, ogres, vampires, and other assorted monsters.
He pretended they were all Walt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
 
Clay arrived at Daria’s the next morning at ten.
“Don’t tell me,” he said when she opened her mouth as soon as she saw him. “I look like shit. Neither you nor Bent told me the imperative was so vicious.”
“It was pretty hard on Bent, but he gave in pretty fast,” she said as she led the way to the kitchen. She waved Clay to a seat at the table and, after pouring them both some coffee, sat down beside him. “All right, what’s going on?”
As he tried to decide where to start, Clay took a swallow of his coffee and looked around the large kitchen, so reminiscent of his mother’s at the farm. White cabinets, maple butcher-block counters, and herbs growing in pots in the windowsills combined to create a feeling of warmth and home. Then Lolita walked in, jumped into his lap, curled up, and started purring. He sighed. Even the cat thought he needed commiseration. Might as well lay it all out for Daria.
“I blew it, big time,” he said. He told her everything, how he’d been certain once he had Francie at a computer, she’d have no choice but to believe him about magic and soul mates. Then how he’d tried to force Francie to talk to him by means of the game, and exactly how Francie had won. “And the worst part was she used the damned imperative to beat me. I thought the lousy thing was supposed to be on
my
side!”
Daria chuckled, then put her hand on his. “Oh, Clay, I’m sorry for laughing, but I wish I could have seen that game. What’s your plan now?”
“I gave her my word I wouldn’t call or come by or e-mail. I’d leave her totally alone. I said if she wanted to see me, she had to make the first move.” He rubbed a hand across his chest, right over the pain. “But that woman is so stubborn, I don’t know if she’ll give in to the imperative and come to me. She was so adamant about magic not existing, she might not be able to take her words back, to admit she was wrong. I don’t know if her pride or her embarrassment is stronger.”
“It sounds to me like your light ball wasn’t nearly enough. She needs some real demonstrations, something more ‘tangible,’ as it were, something more mundane, less esoteric than computer programs. Some proof she can’t refute or deny.” Daria tapped her fingers on the table while she thought for a moment. “This may be splitting hairs, but while
you
can’t see her, you didn’t promise anything about any of your family staying away. What if Glori and I pay her a visit? Glori could do her bit with plants and maybe some healing—Francie’s bound to have a raging headache by this time. Both of us can also cast illusion spells. Glori does a nice black panther, and my dragon is quite spectacular, or so I’m told.”
“That’s what I hoped you’d suggest,” Clay said, slumping in his chair in relief. He knew he’d pay for this where Gloriana was concerned. She positively reveled in teasing him for every perceived fault he possessed. But he knew he’d get revenge. Just wait until Glori found
her
soul mate.
Then he had another thought. “I hope she’ll see you.”
“Oh, she’ll see us all right, one way or the other.” Daria smiled the way she did when she was plotting something against him. “As I think of it, I’m getting a little angry. Who is this woman to refuse my brother? Don’t worry, Glori and I will make her listen. By the time we’re finished with her, she’ll be a believer.”
Clay winced. “Uh, just don’t get carried away. I do want her talking to me, you know.”
“I have a spell, sort of an I-am-someone-you-must-absolutely-talk-to bewitchment that should do the ‘trick’—so to speak. That will get us in the door, and if it doesn’t, I’m sure we’ll think of another ploy.”
Clay stared at her for a moment, playing scenarios in his mind. “I don’t know. She hates deception of any kind, I do know that. I’ve told her you can’t cast a spell on anybody except yourself, but I don’t know if she even heard me or if she believes it.”
He shook his head in frustration. “Here we are at that paradox again. If she doesn’t believe in magic, then she doesn’t believe you can throw a spell of any kind, but if she agrees magic
does or might exist
, then she could be afraid you
have
spelled her. Either way, she could think you were trying to deceive her, and she could refuse to see you.”
“All right, we’ll play it by ear. You know . . .” she paused, then continued with a grin, “we can’t forget our biggest ally here, the soul-mate imperative itself.”
Clay returned her grin, feeling better for the first time in days. “You’re right, and that’s the conclusion I came to. The old SMI must be giving her grief. It’s certainly taking a toll on me. She has to want the pain to end, and it’s a good reason to talk to you.”
“I’ll call Glori tonight and ask her to come for the weekend. We’ll try to see Francie on Saturday.” Daria rose and went to the counter. She picked up the pad and pen by the phone and brought them to Clay. “Write down Francie’s address and phone number for me. I’ll do a little reconnaissance today or tomorrow.”
He wrote down the requested information and described Francie’s apartment. “Her parking spot is to the right. She drives a silver Honda,” he said. “Her boss told me she stayed home yesterday, but I don’t know if she’s still there.”
“Probably not. If she’s anything like you, and we know she is, she’ll be at work today, just as you would. I’m sure she’s as much a workaholic as you are.”
“Hey, when I have a job to do, I do it,” he protested.
“Exactly.” She studied him for a moment, then asked, “How are you in all this, Clay? You’re my brother, and I worry about you. How do you feel about the imperative? About Francie?”
“I’m okay,” he shrugged, then knew from Daria’s skeptical expression he’d better elaborate. “I had some doubts at first, fought against it, but nothing like what you did. Like Bent said, men and women are different. The more I was around her, the more I wanted her. The more it felt ‘right’ when we were together. Before I knew it, I was thinking in terms of forever. Having seen you and Bent go through the experience gave me some warning about what to expect, but the reality was a hell of a lot stronger than I thought it would be.”
He rubbed his aching middle and grimaced. “If Francie doesn’t give in soon, the SMI is going to be the death of me.”
“Don’t worry,” Daria consoled him. “According to Mother, the imperative’s never killed anyone.”
“Yet.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
 
Thursday evening Francie arrived home in what was becoming an incurable state of exhaustion. She was really going to have to see her doctor soon. Now she seemed to have not only an ulcer, but probably mononucleosis or chronic fatigue syndrome. Or was she just turning into a hypochondriac? She had no sooner changed into comfortable, soft, baggy sweats and tied her hair back with a big clip than the doorbell rang.
Was it Clay? Her heart leaped and landed running. Oh, great. Now a heart attack, too.
But when she looked out the peephole and saw only Tamara, she relaxed—until she realized her friend should still be at the shop. Tamara looked angry. Had she heard about Kevin?
“Oh, damn,” Francie muttered under her breath. She didn’t know if she had the strength to deal with the Kevin problem, but it was on her now. She opened the door.
“Hi, Tamara. Come on in.” She stood back while Tamara, hands clenched at her sides, stalked over the threshold and into the living room.
The redhead turned to face her as Francie closed the door. “The police came by to see me today. They arrested Kevin this morning.” Tamara’s tone was distinctly flat, a signal she was definitely angry.
“I know. I heard at work,” Francie said softly. She came around the sofa, but remained standing.
“Lieutenant Childress told me Kevin had been caught hacking into your company’s computer system and wanted to know if he had ever mentioned to me his doing anything like that.” Tamara plopped down on a chair. “Of course, I told Childress Kevin had never said a word about it to me.”
“Of course. I know you would never be a party to dishonesty of any kind.” Francie sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa cushion. Was Tamara angry with her, or just Kevin?
BOOK: Do You Believe in Magic?
13.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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