“You bet,” Clare said.
Elizabeth disappeared back into the crowd.
Jake did a quick study of the room. “I suggest we go outside. It’s a little crowded in here.”
“Fine by me.”
She munched a mini-taco, feeling remarkably better, and let him pilot her out a door on the far side of the room and onto another long veranda. This one fronted an elegantly curved pool. The underwater lights made the water glow a strange shade of turquoise.
They left the veranda, walked across the patio and sat down at a round table that overlooked the pool.
“Nice night,” Clare said around a mouthful of taco.
“Hit a hundred five today. Supposed to be hotter tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well, it is Arizona and it is summer.” She drank some of the sparkling water and lowered the glass. “Any idea what Archer wants to talk to me about?”
“No. I didn’t even know you’d been invited to this party.”
He was telling the truth, she realized. That made for an interesting change.
“I got the feeling that you were taken by surprise,” she said. And you don’t like being taken by surprise, she thought. “You’re used to being three steps ahead of everyone else, aren’t you?”
“Obviously I screwed up this time.”
She smiled cheerfully. “Don’t blame yourself. Everyone else seems to be equally startled to see me. Looks like Archer played his cards close to his chest on this one.” She paused, thinking about that. “Which, I admit, makes me a little curious.”
“Is that why you came down here? Curiosity?”
“Nope. I’m here because Mom insisted.” She raised her brows. “You do know a little of my family history, I assume?”
“Some,” he said. “I’m aware that you’re all registered members of the Arcane Society.”
“You, too?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. That explained some of the aura of power that radiated from him. It also explained why Archer had hired him as a consultant. Society members often preferred to work with other sensitives. They tended to choose their closest friends and their spouses from the Arcane community, as well.
“Actually, I was referring to the somewhat complicated aspects of my parentage, not our Society affiliation,” she said to Jake.
“I know something about that, too.”
“The thing is, I never met Archer or Myra or Elizabeth or Matt until this past year. We’re all still feeling our way. Elizabeth and I get along great and Matt is friendly. But my presence upsets Myra for obvious reasons so I try not to inflict myself on her very often.”
“What about your relationship with Archer?”
“Still under construction.”
“Why did your mother want you to come down here tonight?” Jake asked.
“It’s kind of complicated. The background is that Mom and Aunt May asked me to wait until I was in college before deciding whether or not to introduce myself to Archer. I respected their wishes. By the time I actually did go off to college, I had decided I didn’t want to establish contact after all.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated, uncertain how to put it into words. “Every time I saw a photograph of the Glazebrooks in a magazine or a newspaper they looked like the perfect family. I knew that would change if I showed up at the front door. I guess part of me didn’t want to destroy what they had.”
“No such thing as a perfect family,” Jake said.
“Maybe not. But the Glazebrooks sure looked like they had come mighty close. Earlier this year I finally did contact Elizabeth, though. Now that the damage has been done, Mom and Aunt May have decided that Archer and I should bond.”
“Family,” Jake said. “Gotta love ’em.”
She smiled and drank some more water.
“The situation with your relatives isn’t the only complication you’ve got in your life, is it?” Jake lounged back in the chair and stretched out his legs. “You’re a level-ten parasensitive with a rather unique talent.”
She stilled. “You know?”
“That you’re a human lie detector? Yeah. I did some background research on the family before I took this job. I may not have all the facts but I think I know the basics. Must be tough at times. People lie a lot, don’t they?”
“Yes,” she said. “All the time, in fact.”
She wondered if he had been testing her earlier when he gave her his name or if he thought he could beat her sensitivity. Maybe he just didn’t give a damn if she knew that he was lying. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that was probably the right answer.
“What’s your sensitivity?” she asked.
Jake didn’t answer. He turned his head to look back toward the house.
“Damn,” he said softly.
She followed his gaze and saw a stick-thin woman silhouetted against the lights of the house.
The woman hesitated. Clare realized she was searching for someone. With luck she would not think to check the heavily shadowed sitting area on the far side of the pool.
But at that moment the woman started purposefully forward. It was obvious that she was making for the table. So much for luck, Clare thought. Hers was not in good form tonight.
“Valerie Shipley,” Jake said.
“I know. Just what I need to make my evening complete.” Resigned, Clare put down the uneaten portion of a small taco.
“You know her?” Jake asked
“I met her once. That was the night her son, Brad McAllister, was murdered.”
“McAllister was your sister’s husband, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.” She watched uneasily as Valerie came toward them with an unsteady gait. This was going to get ugly.
“Just so you know,” Jake said quietly, “Valerie drinks. A lot. I’m told the problem started after her son’s death.”
“Elizabeth said something about it.”
Valerie stopped near the edge of the pool. She had a glass in one hand. Clare could see that she was tottering on her high heels.
Valerie was in her late fifties with dyed blond hair cut in a sleek bob. Six months ago she had looked fit and healthy. Tonight she appeared almost emaciated in her tight cocktail dress. The bones of her face were knife edges; the hollows of her cheeks were very deep.
“I can’t believe you had the gall to walk into this house tonight, you murderous bitch,” Valerie said. The words were slurred but the rage embedded in them was unmistakable.