place at one time in my life. That’s hardly the point.”
“What is the point?”
“I am deeply offended. Pissed off, actually. My honor has been impugned or something.”
“I’m a little irritated myself.” He picked up the slip of paper that was on the console.
“Wonder what the client will do when he realizes I’m not going to take the money,” Isabella said.
“I don’t think the client cares whether or not you accept the bribe.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The idea is to make sure that there’s a trail from this account that leads straight back to you,” Fallon explained. “Trust me, whoever goes looking will soon find out that it is in the name of Isabella Valdez. Word of the bribe will be all over Arcane within hours after the discovery is made.”
“In other words, it’s all about making me look guilty.”
“Yes.” Fallon opened the slider again and made a move onto the patio.
“Wait.” She hurried to the door. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my room. I need to go online.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Close that bank account and make sure there is no link to you.”
“But what about the money?”
He kissed her lightly. “I’ve got a plan for that.”
“What plan?”
“No reason it shouldn’t go to a good cause. I’m going to transfer it into the Society’s Foundation Trust.”
She smiled. “Someone just made a generous donation to further paranormal research?”
“At the moment it’s an anonymous donor,” Fallon said. “But I hope to be in a position to personally thank the individual very soon.”
26
The aging trailer sat on the last concrete slab in the last row of the Desert Palms Trailer Court. Fallon brought the rental car to a halt.
“This is it?” he asked.
“Yes.” Isabella contemplated the trailer, afraid to open her other vision. There was a forlorn air of neglect about the place. The inside shades were pulled shut. “What if I’m wrong, Fallon? What if she really is dead?”
“We’ll deal with that when we have more data.”
She half smiled at his bracing, no-nonsense statement. “I love it when you do that, you know.”
“When I do what?”
“Insist on collecting the facts before leaping to a conclusion.”
He opened the door. “I’ve been told that it drives most people nuts.”
“That’s because they don’t understand. I really can’t imagine why so many people think you’re prone to finding conspiracies around every corner.”
She got out and waited while he came around the car to join her.
“See anything?” he asked.
She knew what he meant.
“I’m afraid to look,” she admitted.
“But you’ll do it because you’re an intrepid J&J investigator.”
“There is that.” She braced herself and raised her talent.
Energy enveloped the trailer. She drew a sharp breath.
Fallon watched her. “Something needs finding?”
“Yes.” Jolted, she started forward. “Whatever it is, it’s very hot. That means it’s important. Oh, Fallon, I should have come here sooner.”
“Take it easy.” He caught up with her. “You handled things the way your grandmother wanted them handled. If there’s something in that trailer to be found, we’ll find it. In fact, she probably meant for you to find it with me, not on your own.”
“Maybe.” She dug the key out of her purse and went up the three steps.
The door of the neighboring trailer swung open. A woman with tightly permed blue hair peered out. “About time you showed up, Elly.”
Isabella exchanged a quick glance with Fallon. She could tell that he understood that when she came here to visit her grandmother she used yet another ID.
“Hello, Mrs. Ragsdale,” Isabella said politely. “Nice to see you again.”
Mrs. Ragsdale glowered. “I suppose you didn’t bother to come here until now because you didn’t think that your grandmother left you anything of value, eh?”
“I’ve been busy dealing with her business affairs,” Isabella said weakly. “Lawyers, wills, that sort of thing. You know how it goes with estates, even small ones.”
“Bernice always said that if anything ever happened to her, you’d be along eventually to take charge of her things.” Mrs. Ragsdale peered at Fallon. “Said when you did show up, you’d most likely be with a man.”
Fallon looked at her. “Were you and Bernice good friends?”
“Played bridge every Wednesday and Friday night,” Mrs. Ragsdale declared. “Bernice was a fine player.”
Isabella tightened her grip on the key. “Were you here when my grandmother died, Mrs. Ragsdale?”
“Yep. Watching the late-night talk show. She must have called the ambulance, herself.” Mrs. Ragsdale sighed. “We all saw it pull up. They took her away. She never came out of the hospital. Heard later it was a heart attack. Everyone here at