Page 50 of Sweetwater and the Witch

“I could use some help with a little project I’m working on,” Ethan said.

Ravenna raised her brows at the wordslittle projectbut she did not offer a comment. Not that Ethan would have paid attention to it. He was concentrating one hundred percent on the conversation with his grandfather.

“What’s up?” Jake asked.

The new intensity in the older man’s voice told Ravenna he was now as focused as Ethan. Like grandfather, like grandson. Probably a family trait.

“Remember those stories you used to tell us kids about your days as an indie prospector?” Ethan asked. “How the thing that miners feared the most was making the find of a lifetime and then losing the memory because they blundered into a psi storm or some other paranormal hazard that caused them to develop amnesia?”

“Or wipe out the coordinates on a locator,” Jake said. “Some of those Underworld psi storms were strong enough to destroy data stored in the first generation of locators. Losing the coordinates of a big find and dealing with pirates have always been the two biggest problems for an indie. Well, aside from the possibility of getting lost in the tunnels, of course. Why?”

“You said that in the old days if a prospector got lucky with a major strike, the first rule was to get back to the surface as soon as possible and record the location in a secure place.”

“Right.”

“You mentioned that some of the indies went so far as to get the coordinates tattooed on themselves.”

“The theory was that if you lost the coordinates for one reason or another, you would have a permanent record right there on your skin. I’ve still got the coordinates of the first Amber, Inc., mine on my arm. You don’t hear about prospectors doing that anymore. Locator technology is more reliable these days. Easier to make a backup when you get to the surface and lock it with a code.”

“You also said the tattoos were often in code, too.”

“That’s right. Something that only the prospector would be able to understand and interpret. I think that’s one of the reasons the practice fell out of favor. It takes work to devise your own personal code.”

“Like a password for a computer.”

“Exactly. What’s going on?”

“I’m doing a favor for the local Guild boss and the Guild Council.”

“Sounds interesting,” Jake said.

“It started out as a straight-up surveillance operation, but as of tonight there’s a dead man involved.”

“Don’t tell me you need my help to get rid of an inconvenient body. You’re an adult.”

Ravenna froze and closed her eyes.Mob family, all right. And that’s the godfather on the other end of the connection.How did a nice girl like me end up in a tacky Shadow Zone motel room with a mob man? What would Mom say? What would Grandmother say?

She opened her eyes, because Ethan was talking again.

“I don’t need to get rid of the guy,” he said to Jake. “I need information on him. I found him dead in an alley tonight. No signs of violence but I’m pretty sure he was murdered.”

“By someone with talent?”

“Or some kind of new tech. I think I know who killed him. But that problem can wait until later. What I’m getting at is that it looks like thedead man was an indie prospector. One of his arms has been seriously inked. I get the feeling it isn’t just decoration.”

“Any reason to think he may have wanted to conceal the location of an Underworld strike?”

“Yes. If I’m right, he was murdered to be kept quiet. There was no ID on him. Just the ink. I took pictures. Can I send them to you? I would appreciate it if you would take a look and let me know if I’m going down a dust bunny hole with my current theory.”

“Sure, I’ll be glad to take a look. No guarantees, though.”

“I understand.”

“Old prospectors aren’t the only ones who used tats to make sure they could locate something in the Underworld they didn’t want anyone to find,” Jake mused. “Back in the day I took down a couple of serial killers who had the locations of their body dumps tattooed in code.”

“Yeah?”

“The good news is that when you’re talking Underworld coordinates, it always comes down to numbers and a tuned amber compass. That limits how much you can hide in a tattoo design.”

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