Laura stepped around a chair that lay sideways on the floor. She crouched again. The flashlight beam picked up a flash of pale yellow. “Ah, there it is.”
She stood next to an index card on the floor. “This marks where Carr’s head was when he was found. Judging by the position, I’d guess he got up from beneath the window and made his way down the main aisle. The impact of the kill shot would have thrown him back a few feet”—she shifted away from the index card toward the back of the room again—“which would have put him about here.”
Sinclair faced her, holding his hand out as if firing an essence-bolt. “So the shooter would have been about here.”
“Lower. You’re likely taller,” she said.
He dropped his hand a foot. “I don’t think the shooter was here. Carr would have been facing him directly and seen he was about to be fired on. He would have tried to defend himself.” He stepped to his left behind rows of chairs. “Line of sight is blocked on this side.” He moved to the right in front of the boxes, keeping his hand pointing at Laura. “Anywhere along here is possible. Carr wouldn’t have necessarily seen it coming from here.”
Laura moved along the main aisle. Dozens of body signatures flared in her senses, streaming colors of blue and white, yellow and green, indicating various fey species. She recognized a flash of a signature here and there, people she had known on the InterSec security teams or some she had met on the Inverni Guardian units. Aran macCullen had been in the room, which was no surprise since he had taken the lead in the investigation.
“It’s pretty contaminated,” she said.
She moved next to Sinclair and immediately registered three or four strong signatures. “Okay, this is interesting. I’m sensing a large pool of Carr’s essence, so he must have hung out back here waiting for Draigen’s scheduled departure. I recognize a druid from InterSec who works on crime-scene investigations. He must have sensed Carr’s essence, too, because he lingered long enough to leave a good imprint. There’s also another Inverni essence that shifts back and forth like someone was pacing.”
“Aran macCullen?” Sinclair asked.
She shook her head. “Not strong enough. It matches the signature I picked up in the morgue, though. If I know the person, I can gauge how old the signature is by how it’s degrading, but without knowing who was here, it could either be someone with Carr or someone watching the investigator work. I’ve got a good fix on this signature, though.”
“So now what?”
She grinned up at him. “We play poker.”
CHAPTER 32
LAURA STARED OUT the window of the office at Legacy. The faint reflection of Fallon Moor’s face stared back at her as she tapped into her hyper memory recall. Between the research profile compiled by InterSec and her own interview, she processed everything she knew about what Fallon Moor knew. DeWinter had left a message for her—for Fallon—that a project-update meeting was scheduled, and she needed to be there. No other details were given.
She reviewed the list of possibilities. Intelligence reports indicated that Moor was a facilitator of sorts, using her connections within an underground network to make things happen. She also had a keen eye for finances and knowledge of how to move through electronic banking systems without leaving a trace. Legacy had a number of backers with substantial means, but they wanted deniability in the event Legacy’s more shady operations became public. Moor’s skills provided both sides with satisfaction. Legacy got its fund. Its backers got their anonymity.
Laura checked her watch. Has she come up with anything else? she sent to Terryn. Despite being on leave, he had stationed himself outside Moor’s holding cell again to relay messages. As long as Genda didn’t find out and make an issue of it, they could continue the Legacy investigation.
No, he replied.
They had been trying all morning to get Moor to discuss what she thought the meeting was about. She offered the likelihood that it was about the rocket launchers from the InterSec raid. Laura suspected that was wrong. It didn’t tell them anything they already knew. Of course, Legacy wasn’t happy about the lost weapons. That was self-evident. But why have a major meeting about it? The email listed a dozen people, none of them on the company directory, all of the addresses false or masked accounts.
Keep at her, Laura sent.
She fixed her hair in the reflection of the window, then picked up a pad and pen and went down to the conference room. The small room had no windows and no telephone. Eight people, including DeWinter, sat in silence, waiting as others arrived. No cell phones or PDAs were out. Laura suspected electronic jamming surrounded the room.
Laura met DeWinter’s glance as she sat a few places away from her. The two men to either side did not acknowledge her. She recognized about half the men and women, most businesspeople with strong anti-fey politics. The only other fey person in the room was an elf. Out of habit, she triggered her hyper memory so that she could recall faces in detail later.
“That’s everyone. Our other two guests could not attend,” said DeWinter.
“Let’s move quickly. I have a plane to catch,” a plain-faced woman said. Her name floated into Laura’s memory: Rosa Lentner, an executive with a major science research firm in the Midwest.
DeWinter reviewed his notes. “Our acquisition is imminent. The funds we provided have enabled us to bypass several security measures.”
“I thought we weren’t prepared to receive the package?” Lentner asked.
“Yes and no,” DeWinter said. “The system is not ready, but we have facilities to contain the acquisition. It’s only a matter of a few days.”
They’re talking about an acquisition and a package, she sent Terryn.
A large, overweight man Laura didn’t recognize leaned forward. “I don’t like to think that the pod isn’t ready.”
Ask Moor about the pod, Laura sent.
A tolerant smile creased DeWinter’s face. “I assure you, it’s fine. The same technology for the pod can be used as a temporary solution in a separate room.”
She’s being evasive, Terryn sent. She said it sounds like weapons. Legacy has been interested in military transports.
That was new, Laura thought. What about this pod? What is it?
Please repeat. You’re fading, Terryn said.
Laura shot a look at the elf. At close range, she was able to sense his body signature, but she didn’t notice that he was using essence. The pod, Terryn. What is the pod?
Faint . . . intermittent . . . he sent. The sending sounded broken and weak, as if it had lost its energy.
Terryn? She received no response but hid her frustration. Someone had jammed her sendings. Given the lack of electronics in the room, it didn’t surprise her that they employed essence wards, too. Legacy might not like the fey’s abilities, but they sure liked the benefits.
The elf moved his head in her direction, and she wondered if he sensed her sending. She could feel flutters in the air when people did sendings. It was an ability that powerful fey tended to have. He didn’t look directly at her and didn’t say anything, so she didn’t think the jamming was coming from him.
“Why the rush? We have more than enough room in the schedule,” said Lentner.
“This window of opportunity might close. We’ve already had one failed attempt. I don’t want another,” said DeWinter.
Lentner didn’t respond, but an older gentleman steepled his fingers together as he shifted in his seat. “Where did these funds come from?” he asked.
DeWinter looked at Laura. With Moor’s access codes, she had made the transfer herself. As she had said to Sinclair, she wasn’t happy about helping an enemy, even doing their work, without knowing the full extent of what was going on, but sometimes it was necessary to reach the larger goal. “A liquid asset account.”