sometime when I’ve got a rez-corder handy.”
She peered over his shoulder while he aimed the light into the room. “Jeez, they really made a mess in here, didn’t they? Look, they even pulled up a couple of floorboards.”
There was no denying that the study was in far worse shape than the other room. The drawers had been removed from the desk, the contents dumped on the floor. The reading chair had been overturned, the underside ripped open.
“Let’s make this fast,” he said, moving to the desk. “Someone else may decide to stop by tonight.”
“We’re looking for anything that has to do with Amber Hills Dairy.” Lydia studied the floor. “I wonder if he had a hidden safe.”
“If whoever was here ahead of us didn’t find it, I doubt that we’ll get lucky,” he warned. “The intruders obviously spent a lot of time taking this place apart.”
“You know what your problem is, Emmett? You’re a worst-case scenario type of guy.” She pushed aside some tumbled books to take a closer look at a seam in the floorboards. “You’ve got to learn to think positive.”
“The beauty of planning for the worst-case scenario is that I’m rarely disappointed.” He picked up a heavy textbook and flipped through it. There were hand-scribbled notes on every page. “Looks like Maltby never lost his interest in his old profession, in spite of the drugs.”
“I told you, once upon a time, he was considered an expert in his field.”
Ten minutes later Lydia gave up on the bookcase and stood looking around, her hands on her hips. “I hate to say it, but you may be right. Whoever got here ahead of us had a chance to search this room very thoroughly.”
He resisted the temptation to say I told you so . “I agree.”
“But they were still here when we arrived,” she added thoughtfully. “Starting in on the living room, from the looks of it. Which implies that they did not find whatever it was they were looking for.”
“Maybe there were no drugs left to find.”
“Okay, let’s say that the intruders were looking for Chartreuse.” She folded her arms. “If that was the case, they wouldn’t have had any interest in whatever it was that Maltby wanted to tell me. Which means his secrets are still here.”
“Honey, there is nothing here that has anything to do with a dairy,” he said as gently as possible.
“A milk carton,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The poor man was dying. Maybe he wasn’t trying to write a cryptic note in code. Maybe he was simply at-tempting to get an obvious message across to me.” She unfolded her arms and rushed back out into the short hall.
“Now what?” he said to Fuzz.
They followed her into the small kitchen. She opened the door of the refrigerator. The interior light illuminated her face. He saw her eyes widen with excitement.
Moving closer he looked over her shoulder. There was half of a sandwich covered in mold and some unidentifiable sliced meat that had turned fuzzy and gray.
A carton of Amber Hills Dairy milk stood on the top shelf.
Lydia picked it up with great care. “Empty, I think.” She hesitated and smiled slowly. “No, not quite.”
He picked up a tiny tingle of psi energy.
“Trapped?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes.” Gingerly she opened the top of the carton and peered inside. “No milk, just a very nasty little illusion trap. Well, well, well. Wonder what it’s hiding?”
“Don’t try to de-rez it now. Let’s get out of here.”
“Fine by me.” She closed the top of the carton with satisfaction. “I’ve got what I came here for.”
He switched off his flashlight, went to the front door, and checked the corridor through the cloudy peephole. No one stood in the hall.
He eased the door open and moved out of the apartment with Fuzz on his shoulder. Lydia followed silently, cradling the milk carton.
Without warning the door directly across the corridor opened a bare three inches. The chain rattled. A slice of a face
She peered over his shoulder while he aimed the light into the room. “Jeez, they really made a mess in here, didn’t they? Look, they even pulled up a couple of floorboards.”
There was no denying that the study was in far worse shape than the other room. The drawers had been removed from the desk, the contents dumped on the floor. The reading chair had been overturned, the underside ripped open.
“Let’s make this fast,” he said, moving to the desk. “Someone else may decide to stop by tonight.”
“We’re looking for anything that has to do with Amber Hills Dairy.” Lydia studied the floor. “I wonder if he had a hidden safe.”
“If whoever was here ahead of us didn’t find it, I doubt that we’ll get lucky,” he warned. “The intruders obviously spent a lot of time taking this place apart.”
“You know what your problem is, Emmett? You’re a worst-case scenario type of guy.” She pushed aside some tumbled books to take a closer look at a seam in the floorboards. “You’ve got to learn to think positive.”
“The beauty of planning for the worst-case scenario is that I’m rarely disappointed.” He picked up a heavy textbook and flipped through it. There were hand-scribbled notes on every page. “Looks like Maltby never lost his interest in his old profession, in spite of the drugs.”
“I told you, once upon a time, he was considered an expert in his field.”
Ten minutes later Lydia gave up on the bookcase and stood looking around, her hands on her hips. “I hate to say it, but you may be right. Whoever got here ahead of us had a chance to search this room very thoroughly.”
He resisted the temptation to say I told you so . “I agree.”
“But they were still here when we arrived,” she added thoughtfully. “Starting in on the living room, from the looks of it. Which implies that they did not find whatever it was they were looking for.”
“Maybe there were no drugs left to find.”
“Okay, let’s say that the intruders were looking for Chartreuse.” She folded her arms. “If that was the case, they wouldn’t have had any interest in whatever it was that Maltby wanted to tell me. Which means his secrets are still here.”
“Honey, there is nothing here that has anything to do with a dairy,” he said as gently as possible.
“A milk carton,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The poor man was dying. Maybe he wasn’t trying to write a cryptic note in code. Maybe he was simply at-tempting to get an obvious message across to me.” She unfolded her arms and rushed back out into the short hall.
“Now what?” he said to Fuzz.
They followed her into the small kitchen. She opened the door of the refrigerator. The interior light illuminated her face. He saw her eyes widen with excitement.
Moving closer he looked over her shoulder. There was half of a sandwich covered in mold and some unidentifiable sliced meat that had turned fuzzy and gray.
A carton of Amber Hills Dairy milk stood on the top shelf.
Lydia picked it up with great care. “Empty, I think.” She hesitated and smiled slowly. “No, not quite.”
He picked up a tiny tingle of psi energy.
“Trapped?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes.” Gingerly she opened the top of the carton and peered inside. “No milk, just a very nasty little illusion trap. Well, well, well. Wonder what it’s hiding?”
“Don’t try to de-rez it now. Let’s get out of here.”
“Fine by me.” She closed the top of the carton with satisfaction. “I’ve got what I came here for.”
He switched off his flashlight, went to the front door, and checked the corridor through the cloudy peephole. No one stood in the hall.
He eased the door open and moved out of the apartment with Fuzz on his shoulder. Lydia followed silently, cradling the milk carton.
Without warning the door directly across the corridor opened a bare three inches. The chain rattled. A slice of a face
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