Page 5 of It takes a Psychic

“Comes in handy,” he agreed. “But what interests me is that you saw me this evening.”

“It’s not like you are actually invisible. You’re just very good at fading into a crowd.”

“Not that good, apparently. Everyone else was ignoring me, but not you.”

“Oh, I see what you mean. Well, I knew you were watching me. That made me curious.”

“See, that’s the part that I find fascinating,” he said. “You knew I was watching you.”

She waved that aside. “There’s no mystery about it. I got that vibe you get when you know you’re being watched, that tingle on the back of your neck.”

“Most people would not have gotten it. Not when I’m the one doing the watching.”

“You’re that strong?” she asked, amused.

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” she asked.

Before he could respond, the chandeliers dimmed three times. An expectant hush fell over the crowd.

“Finally,” she said. “That’s the signal. This is the part where I do my job. As soon as I’m finished, I’m going home.”

“Need a ride?”

“No, thank you,” she said, aware of a small pang of regret. It would be interesting to see what kind of car an antiquities thief drove. Actually, it would be even more interesting to spend a little more time with this particular thief. “The Society booked a limo for me.”

“You can tell whoever asks that you made other arrangements.”

She thought about that. “I suppose I could. On the other hand, if you get caught tonight and I happened to be with you, my entire career would explode in my face.”

“You already risked your career once this evening by breaking into the lab and freeing the dust bunnies.”

She winced. “There is that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t get caught.”

She was about to point out his faulty logic—there was no way he could know for certain he wouldn’t get caught—when a tall, lean thirtysomething man in an elegantly tailored tux loped easily up the steps at the side of the stage and stopped in front of the curtain. He did not haveto introduce himself. Everyone in the room knew who he was. Preston Tripp, wealthy tech-bro entrepreneur, the founder and CEO of a wildly successful start-up focused on gaming apps.

“Good evening, members of the Society,” he intoned. “I am honored to act as your master of ceremonies tonight. In that role, I am pleased to announce that we have come to the moment everyone, especially the candidates for membership in the Society, has been waiting for—the judging of the submissions.”

A ripple of anticipation and applause interrupted him. When the room quieted again, he continued.

“As you know, each candidate has offered an artifact for consideration. The objects have all been deemed authentic and of extraordinary rarity by our own museum curators. But in order to confirm their opinion and reassure everyone involved, the board requested that Hollister University provide us with an expert from their academic staff.”

Oliver leaned in very close to Leona and whispered in her ear. “How did you get so lucky?”

“Haven’t you heard?” she muttered. “I’m temporarily famous.”

“Not just any expert,” Tripp continued, “but a very special member of the Department of Para-Archaeology, none other than Professor Leona Griffin. You will all recognize the name. Dr. Griffin was one of three scientists on the ill-fated Hollister Expedition. She is credited with protecting her colleagues and a cache of unique artifacts while they waited for rescue.”

There was a round of polite applause. The audience was getting impatient. Leona gritted her teeth.Not much longer.

Tripp smiled down at Leona and gestured toward the steps. “If you will be so kind as to join me on the stage, Dr. Griffin?”

“Wish me luck,” she murmured to Oliver.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

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