“Yes. Like that. I’m going to mind my p’s and q’s and keep him at arm’s length if I can.”
“What the heck are we going to do with all those carnations?”
“I don’t know.” I grinned. “We’ll figure something out.”
My mother shook her head and left.
I opened the window and looked at the sea of red below. The air smelled like flowers, a delicate but slightly spicy scent promising wondrous things. They were so gorgeous, my carnations. I didn’t know why he’d given them to me. It was probably a trap or some sort of manipulation. Maybe it was an apology. I had no idea, but I was sure that no matter how long I lived, no man would ever give me five thousand carnations again. This was a magical thing that could happen only once, so I stood there, breathed in the scent, and let myself dream.
Chapter 13
I walked into the shark fin building of Montgomery International Investigations armed with my laptop, phone, and Bern. My cousin surveyed the ultramodern lobby as we made our way to the elevator. He didn’t seem impressed.
“Think Mad Rogan will show?” Bern asked.
“I hope so.” I’d texted him before we’d left the house: “I know what Adam’s trying to do. Meet me at MII in Augustine’s office at nine.” He hadn’t replied. We needed Rogan. This was now too big for me and Bern, and I wasn’t sure where Augustine’s loyalties lay. He and Rogan clearly had some sort of problem, but I was sure that Rogan wanted to get his hands on Adam Pierce. For all I knew, Augustine might have been helping Adam and whoever his mysterious backers were the entire time.
The elevator brought us to the seventeenth floor. I checked my phone. Three minutes before nine. When we emerged from the elevator, the receptionist met us at the door and led us down a corridor.
She glanced at me. “I understand you’re working with Mad Rogan.”
“Yes. Did he arrive?”
“Yes, he did. Have you set your affairs in order? You know, in case.”
Bern’s eyes got really big.
“My aunt and uncle run a funeral home,” she said. “Let me know if you need any help. It pays to be prepared. That way you’re not a burden on the family.”
Before I could say anything else, the hallway ended and we stepped into the ice-painted privacy of Augustine’s office. He sat behind his desk, his hair, clothes, and the rest of him impeccably perfect. Mad Rogan was in a chair across from him, drinking coffee. His muscular body was clad in a dark suit that fit him like a glove. Well. They hadn’t ripped each other’s throats out.
I looked around the office.
“What are you looking for?” Augustine asked.
“Blood and severed limbs.”
“What you witnessed last night was personal,” Mad Rogan said. “This is business. We’re remarkably civil when it comes to business.”
“We?”
“The heads and heirs of the Houses,” Mad Rogan said. “Your message made it seem like you’ve had a breakthrough. We both want Adam Pierce, so we’re willing to put our differences aside. Besides, if we were going to brawl, we wouldn’t do it in corporate headquarters.”
“Precisely,” Augustine said. “We observe all necessary formalities before murdering each other.”
Okay then. I put the laptop on the desk and opened it to the picture of Shiva’s third eye. “I think Adam Pierce is planning to destroy Houston.”
It took me about twenty minutes to explain the Great Chicago Fire, Emmens, Shiva, and the legend of his third eye.
“I believe that this amulet wasn’t destroyed. I think it was separated into three pieces, and Adam’s trying to reassemble it. We have a piece, Adam has the piece he retrieved from First National, and there is still a third piece out there somewhere. If I’m right,” I said, “we’re now responsible for this knowledge. I think I’m right. I asked my family to leave town. I also called Professor Itou and suggested that his family leave town as well.”
Augustine sighed. “Ms. Baylor, are you trying to start a panic?”
“No, I’m paying back the man who helped me. I’ve gone with this as far as I can go. I’m at a dead end. If I take this to the authorities—and I have no idea who and where these mysterious authorities are—I probably won’t be believed. The Emmens family, if anyone is still alive, is unlikely to speak to me.” I pushed the laptop toward them. “This is now yours. You’re both Primes. You’re responsible for Houston.”
Rogan and Augustine looked at each other.
“Do you have it on you?” Augustine asked.
Rogan reached into his inner pocket, produced an object wrapped in silk, and passed it to Augustine. Augustine unwrapped the silk and lifted the section of the amulet we’d found. He positioned it in a beam of light, and the quartz stones shone as they caught the sun.
“You’re right,” Augustine murmured. “Considering its worth, it’s probably the real thing.”
“I wouldn’t think quartz was worth that much,” I said.
“It’s not quartz,” Rogan said.
“These are uncut diamonds,” Augustine said. “Excellent quality. Each of these would be about one point seventy-five karats after being cut. I’d estimate a twenty-to thirty-thousand-dollar range per stone.”
There were at least a hundred diamonds. I nearly choked.
“You’re thinking Lenora?” Augustine asked.
Lenora Jordan, Harris County District Attorney? Lenora Jordan, my high school heroine who bound criminals in chains? She would be the only Lenora I knew who was in a position of authority. “Did you mean Lenora Jordan?” I tried to keep excitement out of my voice and failed.
Mad Rogan glanced at me, then looked back at Augustine. “You know her. She’ll take it.”
“If it’s an amplifier, you can’t keep it anyway.” Augustine passed the jeweled piece back to Rogan. “The Houses won’t stand for it. They’ll come for you with pitchforks, tear the artifact from your dead body, and then fight to the death over it. Even you can’t fight all of us.”
Rogan grimaced. “Do you want Emmens or Lenora?”
“Emmens,” Augustine said. “Lenora always disliked you less. Also House Pierce will have to be told.” He looked like he had gulped a mouth full of sour milk. “Ugh. This will be a joyous experience, I’m sure. I’ll also have to put my people onto Pierce.”