After Glow by Jayne Castle Page B

parents died when he was very young. He had no siblings. The authorities are still searching for next of kin.
     
    “The date of the article is nearly fifteen years old,” Lydia said. “Why on earth would Maltby have gone to all the trouble of copying it and protecting it with an illusion trap?”
    “Beats me.” Emmett picked up the small tomb mirror and studied it closely. “Maybe this was what he wanted to hide. Looks pretty ordinary, though.”
    She glanced at the quartz mirror, assessed the simple carving that surrounded the reflective surface, and shook her head. “There’s nothing special about it. I’m sure he only used it to secure the trap.” She tapped the paper. “It was this article he wanted to conceal. But I can’t imagine why.”
    “Lydia, I think you should keep in mind one very important fact about Professor Lawrence Maltby.”
    She raised her head, frowning. “What’s that?”
    “He was a Chartreuse addict,” Emmett said. “That means that his brain probably got badly de-rezzed a long time ago. If I were you, I wouldn’t try to make too much out of this newspaper article or the fact that he left you a message in the first place. He no doubt heard you were asking questions around the Old Quarter and it sparked a couple of delusions.”
    “I’m not the only one who took him seriously. What about those two guys we surprised in his apartment?”
    “I told you, they were most likely looking for his stash, not an old newspaper story about a student who went missing underground.”
    She tapped the copy of the newspaper clipping lightly against her palm. “Hmm.”
    “I really hate when you do that,” Emmett said.
    ----
     

Chapter 8
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    The offices of Hepscott Enterprises, Inc., radiated class and financial success. The furnishings and decor were in various shades of gray punctuated with occasional hits of black and crimson. The reception lobby alone was twice as large as her apartment, Lydia thought.
    On the way to the front desk she passed a number of glass cases that contained models of several Hepscott projects. Among them was a gated community of expensive homes and a new banking and financial tower that were going up downtown.
    A neatly folded copy of the Cadence Star was on the low table in front of a long black leather sofa. She glanced at it and saw the large headlines, Wyatt Critically Wounded. Guild Officials Appoint Acting Head .
    She had read the story that morning at breakfast, sitting across from Emmett. There was nothing in it that he had not already told her. The reporter had stuck to the facts and not descended into gossip. There was no mention of Emmett having once been engaged to Tamara Wyatt. The Star left that sort of thing to the tabloids.
    Lydia was very glad that she had splurged on the new suit and a pair of heels that matched the conservative rusty brown color of the outfit. The ensemble had cost her a month’s income but it was worth it. She looked almost as serious and businesslike as the receptionist.
    “May I help you?” the woman behind the desk asked politely.
    “I’m here to see Mr. Hepscott.”
    The receptionist looked doubtful. “Your name?”
    “Lydia Smith.” Lydia gave her the special smile she had developed for handling the secretaries who guarded the offices of senior faculty members at the university. “I have an appointment.”
    The woman’s brow cleared instantly. “Yes, of course, Miss Smith.” She leaned toward the intercom and pressed a button. “Miss Smith is here, sir.”
    “Send her in please, Elizabeth.” Gannon Hepscott’s voice was well modulated and infused with self-confidence. It went well with the decor of his reception lobby.
    “Yes, sir.” Elizabeth got to her feet. “This way, Miss Smith.”
    Lydia followed her to a tall door paneled in red amber-oak.
    The interior of Hepscott’s private office was even larger than the lobby. It was done in the same colors. The view out the wall of windows