All the Colors of Night (Fogg Lake #2)(4)
Doing business in the underground trade of hot artifacts entailed a lot of risks for all parties involved. Obsessive collectors, con artists, fraudulent dealers, ruthless freelancers and raiders were all part of the dangerous ecosystem—to say nothing of the occasional psychic monster. To normal people who did not believe in the paranormal, such creatures were the stuff of legends and nightmares, but when you worked in the underworld, you took them seriously.
All of which explained the success of Ambrose Jones and his thriving delivery business. Go-betweens who worked for the Vault received several important benefits. Jones acted as a broker between buyers and sellers. He secured the hot relics in his own private vault until they were delivered. He arranged for the safe transfer of the very large sums of money involved in the deals. And if things went wrong, as they had tonight, he would punish the offender. In return for those perks, he took a hefty commission.
Worth every penny, Sierra thought.
A door opened midway down the hall. The rock music got a little louder but it was still muffled. Jones walked out of his office. Sierra noticed that the lights inside the office had been turned down low. She smiled. Mr. Jones was entertaining a lady friend this evening. She was pretty sure she knew the identity of the woman.
Jones had opened the Vault a couple of years ago. No one seemed to know much about him. He was somewhere in his early forties. His dark hair was turning silver at the temples but he kept himself in excellent condition. He looked very good in the sleek, tailored trousers, black turtleneck and slouchy black linen jacket that seemed to be his uniform. He had the face and the profile to go with the buff body—strong, and even handsome, if you liked the cold-eyed, gunfighter type.
Sierra found him intriguing, but that was as far as it went. He would probably make an interesting date but her intuition told her there would be no future with him. And since Jones never dated his own agents, even the possibility of an interesting date was out of the question.
Generally speaking, she was about ready to give up on dating altogether. It had become a depressing business. She longed to meet someone with whom a future at least looked possible, just as she wanted a career that centered her and gave her a sense of satisfaction. She was good at authenticating and transporting hot artifacts but it didn’t feel like something she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
Jones looked at her. “What went wrong?”
“Keegan tried to kill me,” Sierra said.
“Obviously he didn’t succeed. Congratulations on that, by the way. I wonder what made him think he could get away with murdering a Vault agent?”
“He’s a collector.” Sierra shrugged. “They’re not known for being an especially stable bunch. He’s got just enough talent to think he’s the smartest man in the room.”
“I will terminate his membership in the club immediately.” Jones examined her with a critical eye. “You look like you need a drink. On the house tonight.”
“Thanks, I do need a drink, but I’d rather go home and have one there.”
“I understand.” Jones picked up the black bag. “I’ll find another buyer for the artifact.”
He went back into his office. Just before the door closed, Sierra heard a sultry, feminine voice. She smiled, recognizing it. Molly Rosser was a high-end artifacts dealer.
“Something go wrong with a delivery?” Molly asked.
“One of my best agents was nearly murdered tonight,” Jones said. “As a result I have a few things to take care of. I’m afraid I’m going to have to say good night.”
“I understand,” Molly said.
Molly was an excellent match for Jones, Sierra thought. She handled his unusual business, his powerful talent and his dangerous edge with cool ease. But then, she was a strong talent herself.
The door to Jones’s private quarters closed.
Clyde leaned toward Sierra and spoke in low tones. “Between you and me and Twitch, here, I think our Mr. Jones has got it bad for Ms. Rosser.”
“I’m not surprised,” Sierra said. She pulled on her boots and jacket. “They’re perfect for each other.”
“Nice of you to introduce them,” Twitch said. He grinned. “The boss has been in a pretty good mood lately.”
CHAPTER 2
Ashort time later Sierra drove into the underground garage of one of the gleaming apartment towers in the South Lake Union neighborhood. She shut down the SUV’s big engine and sat quietly for a moment, checking the side mirrors and the extra-wide rearview mirror for indications she might not be alone. There were no auras reflected in the glass.
Satisfied, she collected her pack, got out of the car and headed for the elevator lobby at a brisk pace. The fact that she could not detect any auras in the car mirrors was no guarantee there was no one hiding in the emergency stairwell or around the corner of a concrete wall. The mirror locket worked reasonably well in a one-on-one situation at close quarters, but it had some serious limitations.
She used her key fob to access the elevators, but she did not allow herself to relax until she reached the twelfth floor and was safely inside her small one-bedroom apartment.
Cozy was the term the leasing agent had used to describe the small space. Sierra had stuck with the term because it sounded more upbeat than cramped. It would have made more financial sense to go with one of the tiny studios but she knew she would not have been able to handle the claustrophobia. She had grown up on a rural island in the San Juans surrounded by a heavily wooded forest and a rugged landscape. City living had required some major adjustments.