Jayne Castle: Canyons of Night

He held her a little away from him. “And you’re the only one who knows what I can do with my talent.”

“D-don’t worry, I can k-keep a secret,” she whispered.

“So can I.”

“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a panic attack.”

“Breathe,” Slade ordered.

“Right. I can do that.”

AT NINE THIRTY THAT NIGHT SLADE LOUNGED ON Charlotte’s sofa, phone in one hand, a beer in the other. He propped his ankles on a hassock and watched the flames leap on the hearth while he gave Marlowe Jones a summary of events.

“Brody and Mack Duncan were living under fake IDs,” he said. “Took a while to find out their real names. They were picked up by the Frequency City cops this afternoon and booked on a number of charges. They’re ratting out dear old Mom as fast as they can. Thelma Duncan is in a locked ward in the parapsych wing of Frequency Memorial Hospital. Looks like she had a stroke. She’s confused and disoriented and no one thinks she’ll make a full recovery.”

“There is a detective in the Frequency Police Department who is Arcane,” Marlowe said. “He’s keeping an eye on things for me. He says that as far as the authorities are concerned, the Duncan boys and their mother were operating a small-time burglary ring that specialized in antiques.”

“All true as far as it goes,” Slade said. He caught Charlotte’s eye.

“I called the museum lab people and warned them that in addition to the Sylvester curiosity they’ll have two more hot objects to transport, the Quicksilver Mirror and the Bridewell Engine. They’re very excited.”

Slade watched Rex hop up onto the coffee table. Rex opened the clutch purse and removed the shiny, crystal-encrusted lady’s compact that Charlotte had convinced him to exchange for the gold watch. He started playing with the compact. He had not yet figured out how to open it but that did not seem to bother him. He clearly considered the project a game.

“There’s a fourth object,” Slade said. “A gold watch that seems to be able to de-rez the automaton.”

“I’ll tell the transport team.”

“That’s it for now,” Slade said. “Time to eat here.”

“Dinner? It’s nearly ten o’clock.”

“It’s been busy here on Rainshadow, what with the problem of Thelma and her boys and the poststorm cleanup. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, don’t hang up. Now that your talent has, uh, stabilized, will you be going back to work for the Bureau?”

“No,” Slade said. He watched Charlotte set a plate of cheese and pickle sandwiches on the coffee table. “I won’t be going back to my old job.”

“Well, in that case,” Marlowe said smoothly, “would you be interested in working as a contract agent for Jones & Jones? I’m getting more work now since Adam and I got all that publicity a while back. I could really use someone with your professional background.” She paused a beat. “And your talent.”

Charlotte sat down next to Slade and propped her slipper-clad feet on the table. He put his arm around her and allowed himself to relax into her warm, bright energy.

“I’ll be staying here on Rainshadow,” he said. “Nice little town. I like the job. It suits me. So if I can do you any favors from here, let me know.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” Marlowe said. “But are you sure you want to stay on that hunk of rock there in the Amber Sea?”

Slade thought about the deep certainty that had been coalescing inside him ever since he had arrived on the island.

“I’m sure,” he said. “Good night, Marlowe.”

“See you at the wedding,” she said.

“I’ll be bringing a date.”

“Good,” Marlowe said. She sounded like she meant it. “That’s wonderful.”

He closed the phone and reached for a sandwich.

Charlotte watched him closely. “You told her you would be staying on Rainshadow.”

“I did, yes.” He took a large bite out of the sandwich.

“I’m glad,” Charlotte said. “The island needs you.”

He swallowed the bite of sandwich and looked at her. “Think so?”

“We both know now that there is something stirring out there in the Preserve. Someone needs to keep an eye on the situation. Who better than a former special agent of the FBPI?”

“I didn’t make the decision to stay on the island because of the Preserve.” He put the uneaten portion of the sandwich back on the plate. “I made it because of you.”

Charlotte went very still. “Are you certain?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. The day I walked off the ferry and found you waiting for me I knew it in my bones. It was as if I’d spent the past fifteen years trying to get back to you. If you leave the island, I’ll leave with you. But as long as you’re staying here, I’m staying, too. You’re my future. I love you.”

Her smile and her eyes were suddenly luminous. “Oh, Slade.”

“For most of my life, home was always where I happened to be at any given time. But when I saw you at the ferry dock last week, I knew that home is where you are. The trouble was that I had nothing to offer you. I thought I was going psiblind. The last thing I wanted from you was pity. So I tried to tell myself that I could handle a brief affair and then walk away before you realized what was happening to me.” He took a deep breath. “But I don’t know if I could have done that.”

She touched the side of his jaw with gentle fingertips. “You would have because you would have told yourself that it was the best thing for me. And then I would have had to chase after you, which would have been very embarrassing.”

“But you would have come after me?”

“In a heartbeat,” she said. “I love you. I knew that we were meant for each other the day I watched you walk off the ferry. Actually, I knew it fifteen years ago but I told myself that it was just a teenage crush. Now I know better. It was the real thing.”

A strange, heady sensation unfurled inside him. It took him a heartbeat to recognize it because he had kept it locked away in the deepest part of his being for so long. But now that he could set it free he could give it a name. Joy .

“You were always there in the back of my mind,” he said. “That was why I kept the pocketknife that you gave me the morning I left town. It’s the only thing I’ve ever hung on to in my life. And now I’m going to hang on to you. I’ll never let go.”

“And I’ll never let go of you,” she vowed.

He drew her close and kissed her. The warm, bright, abiding energy of love shimmered in the atmosphere around them.

RANDOLPH SEBASTIAN TOOK THE PHONE CALL HE HAD been dreading ever since he had taken the helm of Sebastian, Inc., and been entrusted with the family secrets.

“This is Sebastian,” he said.

“Slade Attridge. I’m the new chief of police here on the island.”

Randolph tightened his grip on the phone. A chill of intuition went through him. He could tell from Attridge’s cold, controlled voice that the new police chief was a man to be reckoned with and, quite possibly, a problem.

“My assistant advised me of your identity when she put through the call,” Randolph said. “What can I do for you, Chief Attridge?”

“According to the notes left by one of my predecessors, your family controls the Rainshadow Preserve Foundation.”

“That’s correct.”

“Something is going on inside the Preserve,” Slade said. “I need to know what is happening in there.”

Alarm flashed through Randolph. After all these years the secrets of the Preserve were stirring.

“Has a section of the fence failed?” he asked. But he knew even as he asked that he was grasping at straws. “I can send out a repair crew.”