"You're wrong," he said softly. "As soon as I started looking into Willis's background, I would have learned about the ice-prism project."
"Yes, I suppose that's right."
"Sooner or later, I would have made a connection to Morgan Lambert. That would have led me to the fact that Lambert and Willis had met at ParaSyn." Rafe smiled abruptly, as though he had just been struck by a very satisfying thought.
Orchid eyed him suspiciously. "Now, what?"
"It just occurred to me that even if I had never gone to Psynergy, Inc., to hire a full-spectrum prism, I would have met you eventually in the course of tracking down all of the people who had close ties to Theo Willis."
"Hmm."
"Funny how synergy works, isn't it?"
She made a face. "Must be destiny, all right."
"What? You don't believe in destiny? And here I thought you were the romantic type."
"Forget the destiny stuff. Tell me why you're concerned about the ParaSyn connection."
"I don't have anything solid yet." Rafe guided the Acer through the relentlessly serene village of Northville. "To get it, I'll need something that ties Quentin Austen to ParaSyn."
Orchid watched the last Northville speed limit sign slip past the window. Rafe accelerated rapidly.
"What would such a connection tell you?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. But it would certainly prove very interesting."
Orchid gazed out the windshield at the heavily wooded landscape. But she did not see the trees that marched down the hillsides to the banks of the North River. Other images filled her mind. Scenes of grueling focus sessions with mentally disturbed talents. Exhausting lab tests conducted by cold researchers who did not seem to notice or care about the stress they induced in their volunteer subjects. The eagerness of the experts to move from experiments with the mentally ill to focus sessions with the criminally insane.
With an effort she shook off the unpleasant chill. "If our search for the missing relic leads to ParaSyn we may need to get inside."
"We'll see."
She took a deep breath. "I've got the perfect excuse, Rafe."
Rafe shook his head. "Security at a place like ParaSyn is always very tight. I doubt that the authorities would grant a former research subject free run of the place. Especially given the fact that the project you were involved in was closed down three years ago."
"I'm not sure I'd get free run of the place." Orchid kept her attention on the serene view of the river. "But I know they'll let me back inside. They've been trying to coax me back for a follow-up project for weeks, remember?"
Rafe gave her a raking glance. "Forget it. You aren't going back there under any circumstances."
"But if it means closing our case—"
His jaw was stone. "You aren't going back to ParaSyn."
"Not even if it means finding the missing relic?"
"That damn relic is not worth sending you back to ParaSyn. Besides, odds are it's nowhere near ParaSyn, anyway."
"What do you mean? You just said there might be a connection. Maybe some researchers at ParaSyn arranged to steal the relic."
Rafe looked surprised by her suggestion. "Not likely. There would be no need to steal it. ParaSyn is a major company with a lot of clout. If the experts there wanted to conduct experiments on some of the alien artifacts all they would have to do is contract with the authorities at the university and the New Seattle Art Museum. No one would turn down a request from them."
"Good point." She sank back in her seat, briefly deflated but also secretly relieved.
"Even if the executives at ParaSyn had decided to engage in a little industrial espionage, they would have used a more efficient and more reliable agent than Theo Willis."
"I see what you mean."
"All I'm looking for is another lead on Quentin Austen. There's something a little too convenient about his suicide. But I can get the kind of information I need without sending you back to ParaSyn."
Orchid was touched by his vehemence. Smiling tremulously, she reached across the short distance that separated them and patted his hand. "Thanks."
"I missed you last night," Rafe said after a while.
"I was just down the hall."
"I'm getting used to having you in my bed."
She did not know what to say to that. The truth was, she was getting used to being in his bed, too.
Rafe said nothing for a time. After a while he glanced at her, eyes gleaming. "I guess pulling over to the side of the road, driving into that grove of trees near the river, and getting into the backseat would be a really primitive thing to do."
"Are you kidding?" She was horrified. "It would not only be primitive, it could be extremely embarrassing. This is a major highway. Someone might see us."
"Not much traffic," he observed. "And the woods look pretty thick. I don't think anyone would notice."
"That grove near the river is just the sort of place a family would choose for a roadside picnic."
"You know what your problem is, Orchid? You lack a spirit of adventure."
Orchid felt the Acer slow perceptibly. "You wouldn't dare."
It was fast and intense and in the end Orchid actually screamed. It was probably real primitive of him, Rafe thought, but he liked that part best.
"I can't believe you did that." Twenty minutes later, Orchid perched on the edge of the backseat struggling to pull on her jeans.
It was not an easy task, Rafe thought. There was very little room for her to maneuver because he was taking up most of the available space. He lounged in the corner, one leg stretched out behind Orchid's madly wriggling rear, and enjoyed the scene.
"Might be easier if you opened the door and got out," he said.
"I'm not getting out of this car until I'm dressed. We're not that far from Northville. What if some of my parents' friends happened along?"
"Suit yourself, but I really don't think anyone can see you from the highway."
"I'm not taking any chances." There was a soft snap as Orchid managed to fasten the waistband of her jeans. "Isn't there some kind of law that says that no one over the age of eighteen is allowed to do it in the backseat?"
"I won't tell the backseat police if you don't." He sat up reluctantly and gingerly rezipped his pants. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I believe I'll use the facilities."
"What facilities?" She peered through the fogged up windows. "This isn't a rest stop. We're in the middle of the woods."
"Right. The facilities." He cracked the door open and slid it up into the roof. "Be back in a minute."
"Oh, I see." She turned pink. Then she studied the river bank that was only a few feet away with a thoughtful expression. "Maybe I'll take the opportunity to wash up myself."
Rafe got out of the car. "Don't fall in. That water will be ice cold at this time of year."
"Don't worry. My balance is a lot better than Preston's."
"I believe it." Rafe turned and walked a discreet distance into the trees, savoring the after effects making love to Orchid always had on his senses. He felt relaxed and pleasantly aware of the sights, smells, and small sounds around him.
Life was good this morning.
He kept walking.
The morning sun filtered through the leaves, dappling the ground with spots of gold and shadow. The rich soil beneath his boots smelled of spring. The air tasted better than blue champagne.
He allowed his mind as well as his senses to wander as he chose a suitable tree and unzipped his jeans.
From out of nowhere he recalled the billing ledger he had found the night he and Orchid had searched Quentin Austen's office. He had a sudden memory of the pink sticky note attached to the back.
The synergistic possibilities hit him with the impact of summer lightning.