"Oh, good. For a moment there I was a little worried."
Fallon prodded the groaning Julian. "On your feet. We're leaving before the maintenance people show up and start asking a lot of questions about the damage to the hallway."
Julian got to his knees. "How the hell do you plan to get me out of here? That's my hunter who's standing guard down there."
"Not anymore," Fallon said. "After he got us inside, he was replaced by a J&J agent. I called in some talent from L.A."
Julian's face twisted in disgust. "How did you figure it out?"
"I didn't know you were after the Quicksilver Mirror until I saw the damn thing," Fallon said. "But there were a few details that didn't sit right. You gave off the vibes of a guy who was working his own agenda. What pissed me off and made me decide that you were one of the bad guys was how you used Isabella and then sent that hunter team to grab her in Phoenix when you discovered that you needed her after all. That's no way to treat a lady, Garrett."
Julian shot Isabella a fulminating look. She gave him her most dazzling smile.
"I was following Lucan's orders," Julian said, turning sullen.
"I called Lucan again after you left the trailer today. Gave him a different theory of the crime. He agreed to play it out and see what happened."
"Whose theory of the crime?" Julian demanded.
"Isabella's. I've learned the hard way not to ignore the gut reaction of a trained investigator. She was sure you were behind the arms dealing in Department A."
"She's not an investigator--she's just a finder-talent," Julian muttered. "A technician."
"Who is now a full-fledged investigator at J&J," Fallon concluded.
Isabella picked up a flashlight and aimed the beam at Julian's battered face. "What's this all about Julian? What kind of operation were you running? And what really happened to Caitlin Phillips?"
Julian said nothing.
Fallon turned thoughtful. "I think you were right, Isabella. There was something going on inside Department A. Garrett and Caitlin Phillips were running a small, private arms-dealing operation. They had a buyer for the mirror, but I doubt that it was one of Lucan's black-ops clients. They set up the deal with the broker, Sloan, who chose the mansion as the drop point. But things fell apart when Sloan got shot before he could tell Garrett and Phillips where he had hidden the mirror. So they went looking for you."
"At that point you knew that you would need the resources of Lucan's company to find me, didn't you, Julian? And once you did grab me, you knew you would need my full cooperation. That wasn't likely as long as Lucan and everyone else thought I was guilty of arms dealing. So you changed your story to point the finger of blame at poor Caitlin Phillips. You killed her, didn't you? You planted evidence in her house to make Lucan believe that she was the guilty party."
"Have fun weaving your little conspiracy fantasy," Julian said. "You can't prove a damn thing. The worst you can do is get me fired."
"No," Fallon said. "That's not actually the worst thing I can do."
"We both know you're not going to murder me in cold blood and dump my body." Julian managed a hoarse chuckle. "Give me a break--J&J doesn't work that way."
"Don't be so sure of that," Isabella warned.
Fallon raised his brows. "We're supposed to be the good guys, remember?"
"Well, yes," she grumbled. "But we decided that there are exceptions to every rule, remember? And Julian constitutes a really big exception if you ask me."
"He is, but as it happens, Garrett isn't our problem. Max Lucan hired him. He can terminate his own employees. No reason we should do his job for him."
Julian went very still. "It will be your word against mine."
Fallon's smile widened. "Then you have nothing to worry about, do you? Go on, get out of here."
Julian looked flummoxed. "What the hell are you trying to pull, Jones?"
"You're right. I can't prove a thing, so get lost while I'm still in a good mood."
Julian scrambled to his feet. "What happens to the mirror?"
"It goes back to its rightful owner."
Julian grimaced. "Guess I should have seen that coming."
He half loped, half limped down the hall and disappeared around a corner. Isabella drummed her fingers on the side of the door frame.
"I really hate to see him go free like that," she said. "It's not right."
"Maybe not," Fallon said. With one hand he pulled a pristine handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his cheek. He used his other hand to take out his phone. "But letting him run might give us the answer to one lingering question."
Isabella speared the flashlight at Fallon. Blood glistened on his jaw and dripped down the front of his jacket.
"You're bleeding," she wailed.
He looked down at the handkerchief. "Yeah."
She rushed to him, took the handkerchief from his hand and gently blotted up more of the blood.
"You need to sit down," she ordered. "You could go into shock."
"I don't think so," he said. "Let's get out of here."
He started to bend down to pick up the mirror but stopped midway, groaning a little, and gingerly reached inside his jacket.
"I'll get it," Isabella said quickly.
"Thanks." Fallon spoke into the phone. "He's running. Don't lose him. He's injured and will probably seek medical help. Don't interfere. Just keep an eye on him until one of Lucan's people takes over."
He ended the call and punched in another number. "Max? Jones here. Isabella was right about everything. Looks like Caitlin Phillips is most likely dead. She was Garrett's partner, but he needed another fall guy after he realized he required Isabella's help to locate the artifact. What is it? The Quicksilver Mirror. Yeah. Worth a fortune in some quarters. We've got it and Garrett is running. I've got a hunter following him until you can get someone on it. I'll give you the whole story tomorrow. What? Of course we'll send you our bill."
He closed the phone.
Isabella picked up the mirror and took Fallon's arm to steady him, although he did not seem to be wobbly. She drew him carefully down the staircase.
"What's the one lingering question?" she asked.
"The name of the person who commissioned the Quicksilver Mirror."
"You let Julian run because you want to know the identity of his buyer."
"Well, that plus the fact that there wasn't anything else I could do with him except try to convince the local cops that he's guilty of breaking and entering and something tells me that wouldn't fly."