Page 60 of Shield of Fire

“Sorry, Bethany,” he said, his voice almost inaudible over the thumping background noise. “Left the phone in my coat and didn’t hear it until it was almost too late.”

“Where are you?” I asked curiously. “There’s a hell of a racket happening behind you.”

“I’m in an old auto repair shop. Or rather, above it. The noise is a backup generator that kicked in a few minutes ago. The damn power is out in the area, apparently.”

“Why the hell are you at an auto repair shop? Did you have an accident?”

“It’s owned by one of Loudon’s friends, and he uses it to store some of his larger collections in.”

“In an auto repair shop? Surely a place like that wouldn’t do much to keep his precious relics in good condition.”

“The run-down state of the building is merely a front. Trust me, it’s humidity and temperature controlled and chock-full of all sorts of security measures.”

“I take it this is his safe place?”

“Yeah. It’s not under his name, and he swears few people knows he even uses it.”

“You’d better ask him if Gannon does, because it’s likely that bastard set him up.”

“How do you know? Was Gannon in the shop?”

“No, he’d well and truly gone by the time I crept in.”

“I seem to remember you promising to stay in the lane.” His voice was dry, and I grinned.

“I didn’t actually say yes. I said maybe.”

He snorted. “Then why do you think Gannon set Loudon up? They’re very successful business partners, if what Loudon has been saying is anything to go by.”

“He’s been talking?” I asked in surprise.

“Well, not about anything we’d find interesting.”

“You haven’t tried to read him?”

“Hard to read someone who is constantly pacing. He’s also frightened and on edge, and that never helps. And you didn’t answer the question.”

“What quest— Oh, yeah. Sorry, I heard some of the conversation Loudon had with the woman running the store before the ruby’s energy rose and I got the hell out of there.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” He paused. “Did anyone get hurt?”

“I don’t know, because I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. But there wasn’t much left of the shop.”

“And the woman who worked there?”

“Again, I just don’t know.” I felt bad about lying, but the fewer people who knew she survived, the better.

He grunted. “Where are you now?”

“Waiting for an Uber so I can head over to Gannon’s place.”

“How’d you get his address?” There was surprise, and maybe, just maybe, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Or was I reading too much into it again?

“Googled it,” I said with a somewhat forced laugh. “It might not be our Gannon, of course, but still worth checking out. How long are you going to be?”

“Don’t know—maybe another twenty minutes or so? Loudon wants me to check his security systems?—”

“Why? You’re an antiquarian, not a security systems specialist.”

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