Eye of the Beholder

the foot, huh, Mac? Your new client is afraid you've foisted off a forgery on him. He thinks the real Satyr is in the Avalon Resort collection. He's afraid you sold him the fake."
    "That's about the size of it, I'm afraid." Harriet coughed discreetly. "Unfortunately, my client is inclined to take a somewhat dim view of the situation."
    "Serves you right. What do you expect me to do about it?"
    "My client wants a second opinion on his Satyr." Harriet paused meaningfully. "And he wants it from the expert who exposed the McClelland forgeries."
    Alexa straightened slowly. "He wants a second opinion from me?"
    "Yes, you dear." Harriet smiled broadly. "A droll predicament, is it not?"
    "Hilarious."
    "I promise you that once you have convinced my client that his Satyr is the real one, nothing more will be said about the matter. The fake can stay in the Avalon Resort collection forever, and no one will be the wiser. My client has no interest in exposing the fraudulent Satyr. He merely wishes to be assured that he has the real one."
    "Mac, if you really think I'm going to help you out of this mess, you've slipped a cog since the last time I saw you."
    "Come now. Surely our friendship can sustain a small misunderstanding."
    "Is that what you call it when you leave a friend to take the heat for a bunch of fake statues? A misunderstanding? I don't— Oh, wow."
    "Alexa? What is it, dear?"
    "I knew it was here somewhere." Alexa stared at the corner of the turquoise and white cover of a Dimensions meditation journal. "She didn't hide it inside one of these cartons, she hid it behind the stack."
    She went back to work with a will, dragging the rest of the cartons aside so that she could get at the journal.
    "Do be careful, dear." Harriet frowned in concern as she watched Alexa stagger under the weight of a large carton. "That looks rather heavy. Can I give you a hand?"
    "Yes, you can, as a matter of fact." Alexa reached for the journal.
    And froze.
    Hand.
    The image of Dylan reaching down with his right hand to pick up the fallen gauntlet blazed in her mind.
    "Oh, damn," she whispered.
    Harriet looked concerned. "What on earth is wrong now, dear?"
    "I just remembered something . "
    "Something important?"
    "Well dear?" Harriet prodded. "What is the matter?"
    "Dylan wasn't wearing his Dimensions bracelet."

35

    The phone rang just as Webster was preparing to leave the suite. Trask grabbed the receiver.
    "Trask, here."
    "I found Ms. Guthrie," Phil Okura said without preamble. "She's with me now. Safe and sound, but scared to death."
    "Where are you?" Trask motioned to Webster to come back into the suite.
    "In a hotel near the Tucson airport. She's been staying here since she left Avalon. She won't talk to me. Says she can't trust anyone except her guide, whoever that is."
    Trask watched Webster close the door and come back into the suite. "Ask her if Stewart Lutton or Foster Radstone was her guide."
    Webster's black and silver brows bunched with concern as he listened to Trask's side of the conversation.
    Phil paused to repeat the question. Trask heard a muffled response.
    "What did she say?" he asked.
    "She won't answer the question. She won't talk to anyone except her guide."
    "Ask her if she'll talk to Webster Bell." There was another short pause while Phil relayed the question. He came back on the line a few seconds later.
    "She says of course she'll talk to him, but she doesn't believe that he's there with you. The lady is really frightened, Trask."
    "Hang on." Trask handed the phone to Webster.
    "Ask her for the name of her personal guide. The one who was with her the morning she left Avalon."
    Webster took the phone. "Liz? Is that you? We've been worried about you."
    The deep music of his voice resonated through the room. Trask knew that on the other end of the line, Liz would be reassured. There was no mistaking Webster's voice.
    "Yes, Stewart's death was a shock to all of us," Webster said gently. "The poor man was clearly very disturbed. Yes, it's safe to come home now. The vortices are no longer in a state of flux. Do you mind if I ask why you left Avalon?" Another short pause.
    "I see." Webster glanced at Trask. "You say your personal guide knew that the vortices were going to become violent? Yes, he was obviously very much in tune with the harmonic energies. Very wise of him to advise you to stay out of the area for a while."
    Exasperated by the slow pace of the conversation, Trask began to prowl the room. He knew that