Guild Boss (Ghost Hunters #14)(55)

“That failed, so they’re going with a different tactic.”

“Offering me a partnership in their business is more their style,” Lucy admitted. “But still …”

“It strikes me as an act of desperation,” Gabriel said. “They must be under pressure for some reason.”

“Okay, I agree they seemed more than a little anxious today.”

“Do you trust the Roxbys?” he asked.

“Depends on the situation. They wouldn’t hesitate to stab me in the back if they thought it would make it possible for them to get an exclusive contract with the Guild. Actually, that’s probably exactly what they’re trying to do with this move. Even if I took the offer of a partnership, I’m sure they would come up with a plan to ease me out of the way once they had what they wanted. But that would just be business as usual for them. There’s no doubt but that they are very ambitious.”

“Ambition is a very powerful motivator,” Gabriel mused.

Lucy raised her brows. “You don’t say.”

Gabriel opted to ignore that little dig. He had bigger problems.

He stopped at the end of the block and looked at the sign over the boarded-up shop. It had been badly charred by the fire that had destroyed the interior, but it was possible to make out the lettering—PITNEY’S AMBER TUNING. RARE AMBERS OUR SPECIALTY. Beneath it was another sign—CONDEMNED BY ORDER OF FIRE MARSHAL.

“According to Aiden, this is the place,” he said.

Lucy studied the smoke-blackened brick walls. “When did the fire occur?”

“About four months ago. There was an investigation, but they never found the arsonist.”

“So we’re breaking in?”

“I like to think of it as gaining access by unconventional means. I didn’t have time to get a warrant.”

“I don’t think unconventional means will be much of a problem in this neighborhood,” Lucy said. “I don’t see any witnesses.”

“All the same, I’d rather not attract attention here on the street. Let’s try the alley. There’s always a back door.”

They walked to the end of the block, turned the corner, and entered the shadowed alley behind the row of small shops and businesses. There were a couple of rusted-out trash bins, broken wine and beer bottles, and discarded odds and ends.

Otis surveyed the scene and chortled.

“He likes alleys,” Lucy explained.

“Always something interesting in an alley,” Gabriel said.

“Please don’t tell me you like to hang out in alleys.”

“Only on the odd weekend when there’s nothing else to do.”

Lucy shot him a glare. He paid no attention because he was rezzed. His intuition was shooting small, hot sparks through all of his senses. He was on the right trail.

The rear door of Pitney’s Amber Tuning was boarded up. So were the small windows.

“No point crawling through a window when we can just as easily use the door,” Gabriel said.

He slipped his pack off his shoulder, took out the small pry bar, and went to work. It didn’t take long to get inside.

He switched on his flashlight and splashed the beam around the interior of the charred space. It was filled with the remains of workbenches, cutting and polishing machinery, and cabinets that had once held raw amber. Everything but the mag-steel tools had been burned beyond repair.

“This was one very hot fire,” Lucy said, flashing her light around the space.

Gabriel prowled slowly through the room. “Whoever set it wanted to destroy evidence.”

Otis abruptly vaulted down from Gabriel’s shoulder. He landed on a workbench and hopped down to the floor. Ash billowed around him. He opened all four eyes and bustled about, churning up more ash as he explored the room.

Lucy groaned. “He’s going to need a bath when we get home.” She looked down at her clothes. “We will, too.”

When we get home. She spoke casually, but Gabriel reran the words in his head as he searched the burned-out room. The phrase hummed through him like a line from a song he couldn’t quite remember. For him, home still meant his parents’ house. He hadn’t lived there since he had joined the Guild, but none of the apartments he had rented during his climb to the top had ever felt like home.

His current situation—spending his nights at Lucy’s apartment—was as temporary as things could get, but for some reason he found it natural to use the word home.

Lucy cautiously checked what was left of a cabinet. “What are we looking for?”

“Every tuner I ever knew kept the best specimens stashed in a vault in the Underworld. I’m betting Pitney had a hole-in-the-wall. The problem will be trying to find it. Everything is covered in ash and grit.”

Lucy took a step. The floor squeaked and groaned beneath her boot. She jumped back quickly.

“Stay where you are,” Gabriel said. “There’s a reason the fire marshal put up that condemned sign out front.”

He dug the pry bar out of his pack again and used it to probe the ashes.

He found what he was looking for beneath the wreckage of what had once been a small bathroom.

“Here we go,” he said.

He applied the pry bar to the trapdoor in the floor. Otis rushed over to see what was going on. Gabriel got the trap open and aimed his flashlight down into the darkness. A flight of cracked concrete steps led to the basement. Tendrils of a familiar energy wafted upward.