silhouettes of the nearby buildings. She wondered why Emmett did not seem to feel the chill in the night air.
"You want to know why I didn't tell you, don't you?" he asked eventually.
She knew what he meant. "Why you didn't tell me that you're a dissonance-energy para-rez? I know why. I made my opinions about ghost-hunters fairly obvious right from the start. I don't blame you for keeping quiet about your talent. It was a perfectly reasonable decision for you to make under the circumstances."
"I thought so."
She fiddled with the belt of her robe. "The rest of it, the part about being a businessman from Resonance City . That's all true, isn't it?"
"Yes."
She relaxed. "Mind if I ask why you don't make your living as a ghost-hunter?"
"I did for a while."
"What happened?"
"I quit."
She looked up at the stars. "Okay, I know a dead-end conversational wall when I see one."
There was a short silence.
"You think that those two ghost-hunters who were on your team six months ago are responsible for what happened to you in those catacombs, don't you?" Emmett said.
She gripped the railing. "I told you, I don't know what happened to me six months ago. I can't remember."
"But you blame the hunters."
"They blamed my recklessness. We all agreed to disagree."
He nodded. "I'm not the only one with dead-end conversational walls."
"No, you're not." She turned sideways and studied his unforgiving profile. "So let's change the subject again. You think there's a connection between what happened here tonight and the ghost who appeared in my bedroom last night."
"Sort of obvious, don't you think?"
She tightened her fingers around the rail again. "I've tried to talk myself into believing that the two incidents could be unrelated. But I've got to admit I haven't been able to convince myself."
"The ghost last night was intended as a warning." Emmett gazed out into the night. "Presumably meant to stop you from looking for the cabinet. But why did someone search your apartment tonight? What was he looking for?"
"I haven't got a clue." She contemplated the night for a time. "Maybe we should take this to the police, Emmett."
"The cops can't handle it. Hell, they can't even find the guy who killed your pal Brady. This involves hunters. And hunters stick together. We need the Guild's cooperation. Here in Cadence, that means we need Mercer Wyatt's help."
"But maybe the police could talk to him."
"No," he said. "No cops. Wyatt would view it as an infringement of his own authority. Besides, we don't have much to give the police. The ghost last night and the break-in tonight won't amount to much in their eyes."
"What about the fact that your nephew is missing?"
"There's no evidence of foul play. Quinn is eighteen years old, not a little kid. The cops don't have any reason to look for him. They'd say it's a family matter. And they'd be right. Finding Quinn is my problem, not theirs."
"What about the cabinet of curiosities?"
"Same thing. A family problem. It wasn't exactly stolen, after all. It was pawned. I've got a copy of the receipt. No, we can't go to the cops. At least not until I figure out what the hell we're up against."
Some of her gratitude gave way to irritation in the face of his hardheaded attitude. "What harm can it do to at least talk to them?"
"For starters, it might get my nephew killed."
She stilled. "What do you mean?"
"Bringing the cops into it now will drive everyone involved further underground. Whoever's behind this might decide that the easiest way to deal with the problem is to get rid of whatever it is that's drawing the attention of the authorities."
She sighed. "In other words, your missing nephew."
"Yeah."
"All right. Oddly enough, I can see your point of view. No cops. Not yet."
He turned partway around to face her. "Thanks. I appreciate your cooperation."
"Hey, I'm your high-priced private consultant, remember? A satisfied client is my only goal."
He ignored that. "I wish like hell that I could get
"You want to know why I didn't tell you, don't you?" he asked eventually.
She knew what he meant. "Why you didn't tell me that you're a dissonance-energy para-rez? I know why. I made my opinions about ghost-hunters fairly obvious right from the start. I don't blame you for keeping quiet about your talent. It was a perfectly reasonable decision for you to make under the circumstances."
"I thought so."
She fiddled with the belt of her robe. "The rest of it, the part about being a businessman from Resonance City . That's all true, isn't it?"
"Yes."
She relaxed. "Mind if I ask why you don't make your living as a ghost-hunter?"
"I did for a while."
"What happened?"
"I quit."
She looked up at the stars. "Okay, I know a dead-end conversational wall when I see one."
There was a short silence.
"You think that those two ghost-hunters who were on your team six months ago are responsible for what happened to you in those catacombs, don't you?" Emmett said.
She gripped the railing. "I told you, I don't know what happened to me six months ago. I can't remember."
"But you blame the hunters."
"They blamed my recklessness. We all agreed to disagree."
He nodded. "I'm not the only one with dead-end conversational walls."
"No, you're not." She turned sideways and studied his unforgiving profile. "So let's change the subject again. You think there's a connection between what happened here tonight and the ghost who appeared in my bedroom last night."
"Sort of obvious, don't you think?"
She tightened her fingers around the rail again. "I've tried to talk myself into believing that the two incidents could be unrelated. But I've got to admit I haven't been able to convince myself."
"The ghost last night was intended as a warning." Emmett gazed out into the night. "Presumably meant to stop you from looking for the cabinet. But why did someone search your apartment tonight? What was he looking for?"
"I haven't got a clue." She contemplated the night for a time. "Maybe we should take this to the police, Emmett."
"The cops can't handle it. Hell, they can't even find the guy who killed your pal Brady. This involves hunters. And hunters stick together. We need the Guild's cooperation. Here in Cadence, that means we need Mercer Wyatt's help."
"But maybe the police could talk to him."
"No," he said. "No cops. Wyatt would view it as an infringement of his own authority. Besides, we don't have much to give the police. The ghost last night and the break-in tonight won't amount to much in their eyes."
"What about the fact that your nephew is missing?"
"There's no evidence of foul play. Quinn is eighteen years old, not a little kid. The cops don't have any reason to look for him. They'd say it's a family matter. And they'd be right. Finding Quinn is my problem, not theirs."
"What about the cabinet of curiosities?"
"Same thing. A family problem. It wasn't exactly stolen, after all. It was pawned. I've got a copy of the receipt. No, we can't go to the cops. At least not until I figure out what the hell we're up against."
Some of her gratitude gave way to irritation in the face of his hardheaded attitude. "What harm can it do to at least talk to them?"
"For starters, it might get my nephew killed."
She stilled. "What do you mean?"
"Bringing the cops into it now will drive everyone involved further underground. Whoever's behind this might decide that the easiest way to deal with the problem is to get rid of whatever it is that's drawing the attention of the authorities."
She sighed. "In other words, your missing nephew."
"Yeah."
"All right. Oddly enough, I can see your point of view. No cops. Not yet."
He turned partway around to face her. "Thanks. I appreciate your cooperation."
"Hey, I'm your high-priced private consultant, remember? A satisfied client is my only goal."
He ignored that. "I wish like hell that I could get
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