Fallon turned back to Lockett. "What's this about a bribe and a threat?"
"I never threatened her," Lockett said forcefully. "I wasn't the one trying to bribe her, either. I simply relayed the message. That's what I do. You should know that, Jones."
"What was the message?" Fallon asked.
Lockett heaved a world-weary sigh. "My client wanted me to offer Miss Valdez a sum of money in exchange for transmitting certain details concerning the operation of Jones & Jones. That's all there was to it."
"I told him no," Isabella said, still incensed. "Then he informed me that a hundred thousand dollars had already been wired into an offshore account. The number is on the table."
"What about the threat?" Fallon asked.
Lockett cleared his throat and managed to regain his salesman's voice. "Uh, that would seem to be moot at this point."
"No," Fallon said. The word was etched in steel. "It's not moot."
Isabella moved to stand at the foot of the bed. "He said that turning down the offer from his client would not be good for my future health and well-being."
"That's all there was to it," Lockett said earnestly. "I swear it. I don't know what the client had in mind. You know my policy, Jones. I always deliver the exact message, word for word, that I was commissioned to carry and I never deliver any threat that could get me arrested."
"In that case, I will just have to use my imagination." Fallon said. "Which is not a good thing for your client. Go deliver that message."
"Of course, of course," Lockett said.
"I want it delivered exactly twenty-four hours from now," Fallon added.
"Always happy to oblige a long-standing client such as yourself, sir."
"Get out of here before I change my mind."
Lockett scrambled upright, grabbed the ski mask and headed for the patio door.
"My apologies, Miss Valdez," he said, skittering past Isabella. "Just business, nothing personal."
He vanished into the night.
Isabella turned on Fallon, outraged all over again. "You let him go?"
"He's a rat, but rodents have their place in the feeding chain." Fallon crossed the room to close the sliding glass door. "Occasionally he's my rat. Besides, I know how to find him."
"You've actually used that dreadful little man to deliver messages to people?"
"Lockett is a professional, and he has connections at all levels of our world."
"You mean the world of private investigators?"
"No, the community of people with talent. Sensitives inhabit the entire ecosphere of society. We've got our thieves, scam artists and drug runners, just like we've got our CEOs, academics and politicians. There are good guys and bad guys in our world just as there are in the rest of society. Lockett is one of the few people I know who can move from the streets to the boardroom to government circles and back again. In his own way, he's trustworthy. I've used him before and I'll probably use him again."
"I see." She sniffed. "Well, I suppose professional investigators like us have to be practical about this sort of thing."
"I'm afraid so. Talent is talent and in my experience, really good, reliable talent is hard to come by."
"He's a little weasel of a man, though."
"I'll give you that," Fallon said. "But if it's any comfort, he won't ever bother you again."
She thought about the panic in the Messenger's voice when, for a brief moment, he thought he was facing death at Fallon's hands. "I think you're right about that. What about the money?"
"Hang on a second." He took his phone out of his pocket and punched in a code. "Dargan, it's Jones." There was a short pause. "What do you mean which Jones? Fallon Jones . . . You're right, I'm the only Jones who would be calling you at three o'clock in the morning. Unfortunately for both of us, you happen to be the best tracking hunter on my list in the Sedona area. I want you to keep tabs on a man named Kit Lockett. He'll be using some other name, but I'm going to e-mail you a photo and profile, which includes his home address, make and model of his car, credit card info and favorite bars. He just left the Cloud Resort here in Sedona. He'll be staying somewhere nearby. Find him and keep an eye on him."
Isabella folded her arms and listened while Fallon issued instructions with surgical precision.
"No, I don't want you to grab him," Fallon said. "I gave him a message to deliver to one of his clients twenty-four hours from now. He always does that part of his job in person so that there is no electronic trail; otherwise I'd have one of the cryptos handle this. He'll be making contact with someone soon. I want the name."
And suddenly Isabella understood.
Fallon closed the phone and dropped it into his pocket. He paused, brows slightly elevated, when he saw Isabella looking at him.
"Of course," she said, satisfied. "You want to find out who tried to bribe me."
"That's the idea," Fallon said.
"Ha. I should have thought of that right away. Can't wait to see which dumbass in the Society thinks I can be bribed for a lousy hundred thou."
Fallon grinned briefly. "A lousy hundred thou?"
"Okay, so I've never seen that much money in one place at one time in my life. That's hardly the point."
"What is the point?"
"I am deeply offended. Pissed off, actually. My honor has been impugned or something."
"I'm a little irritated myself." He picked up the slip of paper that was on the console.
"Wonder what the client will do when he realizes I'm not going to take the money," Isabella said.
"I don't think the client cares whether or not you accept the bribe."
"What makes you say that?"
"The idea is to make sure that there's a trail from this account that leads straight back to you," Fallon explained. "Trust me, whoever goes looking will soon find out that it is in the name of Isabella Valdez. Word of the bribe will be all over Arcane within hours after the discovery is made."
"In other words, it's all about making me look guilty."
"Yes." Fallon opened the slider again and made a move onto the patio.
"Wait." She hurried to the door. "Where are you going?"
"Back to my room. I need to go online."
"What are you going to do?"
"Close that bank account and make sure there is no link to you."