“I think you have the wrong number,” she said.
“Fallon Jones,” the bear rumbled, sounding even more annoyed because he’d had to identify himself. “Just tried to call Zack. His phone’s off. What the hell is going on?”
She gave Langdon a brief, bright smile. “Excuse me, Chief. I have to take this call.”
“Sure, no problem.”
She got to her feet, grabbed the crutches and limped through the sliding glass doors out onto the brick entranceway. It was cold outside, but she didn’t care. She was suddenly generating more than enough heat to keep herself warm. Leaning on one of the crutches, she managed to get the phone back to her ear.
“How do you do, Mr. Jones,” she said, making her voice glassy smooth. “So you’re the head of the firm that ripped my family apart all those years ago.”
“Huh?”
“I can’t begin to tell you how pissed off I am by the sneaky, underhanded way your agent Wilder Jones conducted his so-called investigation.”
“What the hell? Lady, I had nothing to do with that investigation. It went down long before my time here at J&J.”
“I don’t want excuses, Jones, I want abject apologies. Wilder Jones broke my aunt’s heart.”
“You’re mad because those two had an affair?” Fallon sounded bewildered. “Are you crazy?”
“No, fortunately. No thanks to J&J or the Arcane Society.”
“Now what are you talking about?”
“According to the file you had on me, it was a known fact in certain quarters within J&J that there was a high statistical probability that I had inherited a type and degree of parasensitivity that is very difficult to handle out here in the real world. Did you know that when you tell folks you hear voices they tend to treat you like you’re crazy? And guess what? You often end up crazy.”
“It’s not my fault that your file got buried. Every file concerning your family was classified.”
“Got news for you, Mr. Jones, J&J may choose to conduct its operations as if it were a clandestine government agency, but it’s not. It’s just one more private investigation firm, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Damn it—”
“What’s more, even if it was a legitimate agency of the federal government, I’d still be just as pissed.”
“Calm down, Miss Tallentyre.”
It was an order. She ignored it.
“I am perfectly calm, thank you. Speaking of your cavalier disregard for other people’s personal privacy, I would like to add that I am not at all pleased to know that at the start of this case you had your analysts check out everything from my medical history to my personal shopping habits. Such things are supposed to be confidential, Mr. Jones.”
“Put Zack on the line.”
“Just so you know, I’m giving serious thought to taking J&J to court. Just imagine what a lawsuit would mean to your firm and the entire Arcane Society. Why, I’ll bet if I get myself a really good lawyer and the right judge, I can force you to open up all of your so-called classified files. Think of the headlines. ‘Psychic Detective Agency Maintains Secret Files on Private Citizens.’”
“Put. Zack. On. The. Phone,” Fallon ordered. “Now.”
“Sorry. He’s not available.”
“Where is he?”
“In the emergency room.”
“He’s been hurt? How? What’s going on there?”
“Oh, right, I guess you don’t know about the latest little J&J screwup, do you? Turns out you were wrong when you confirmed that the Shelbyville cops had the serial killer in custody.”
“I said the analysts estimated the probability of the cops having the right man to be ninety-six point three percent.”
She made a tut-tutting sound. “Not good enough, Mr. Jones. Your analysts were one hundred percent wrong. The real killer took a couple of shots at us this afternoon. One of those shots hit Zack. That was before the guy tried to torch us, by the way.”
“How bad?”
He sounded genuinely worried. She relented slightly.
“The doctor said he’ll be okay. I’m standing outside the emergency room as we speak, waiting to find out.”
“Did they get the bastard?”
“You mean, did they get the right bastard this time? The answer is yes, no thanks to J&J.”
“I don’t know how we missed that one. Clearly we had insufficient or false data.”
“Maybe you should rely a little less on your analysts’ psychic abilities and a little more on traditional methods of criminal investigation.”
“It’s not like we had a lot of time to check out the reports,” Fallon shot back defensively. “We had other priorities, if you will recall.”
She was about to fire back but she saw Zack on the other side of the sliding glass doors. He was on his feet and moving. That was a very good sign. The medics had cut off his shirt. He wore his leather jacket open over his bare chest. She could see the edge of a large white bandage on his side.
“Zack just came out of the ER,” she said. “Got to go.”
“Wait,” Fallon said quickly. “Don’t hang up. Put him on the line.”
“Okay. But before I do, there’s something you and I should get clear.”
“What?” he asked, very wary.
“I understand that J&J answers only to the Governing Council and the Master of the Arcane Society.”
“Yeah. So, what?”
“As it happens, I will soon be the wife of the next Master.”
“What?”
“That position will give me a great deal of power, not to mention enormous influence.” She waved a crutch at Zack. “Better not piss me off any more, Mr. Jones.”
“Give me Zack,” Fallon snarled.
Zack was through the glass doors, coming toward her.
“It’s Mr. Jones of J&J,” she said. “He wants to speak with you.”
“Figured he’d be calling,” Zack said.
“Better warn you, I just told him that you and I are going to get married.”
Masculine satisfaction etched his hard face. His eyes got very, very blue.
“Well, now,” he said softly. “Within the Society that pretty much amounts to a formal announcement. How’d he take it?”
“In another era I believe he would have been described as apoplectic.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll survive.”