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“You’re a traditionalist when it comes to investigations, I see.”
“Absolutely,” Luke said. “It always comes down to money and power. You take the desk. I’ll check the file cabinet.”
She focused on the vintage metal desk, opening her senses to the energy around it. There was a little heat around one of the drawers. She crossed the room and went to work.
It didn’t take long to find the source of the energy: a notebook of lined pages divided into columns.
“I’ve got a business ledger that goes back to the opening of the Unplugged Experience six months ago,” she said. “It’s mostly a record of supplies and provisions that have been ordered.”
“These file drawers are almost all empty,” Luke said. “Just a few folders, including one that contains a record of bookings for the past six months.”
Talia turned a page in the ledger. “The Unplugged Experience may not be a moneymaker, but the Institute for the Study of Medicinal Botany is pouring money into it. Chef Octavia gets a generous budget for the restaurant end of the business.”
“Are you talking about the cook?”
“Octavia Venner is achef. That saffron and parmesan risotto we had at dinner tonight was brilliant, to say nothing of the sourdough bread. It was obviously baked here on the island, and it was the best I’ve ever had. And don’t get me started on the watercress and endive salad. I’m going to beg Octavia for the dressing recipe.”
“I doubt she’ll give it to you. She looked sullen tonight. I got the feeling she is not a happy camper.”
Talia winced. “Yep, I got that feeling, too. But chefs are notoriously temperamental. They’re artists, and they have to work under a lot of pressure.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Anything else of interest in that ledger?”
Talia studied the entries. “Well, I think I now know why Chef Octavia is wasting her time cooking for a low-rent operation like the Unplugged Experience.”
“What did you find?”
“She and Clive Venner are making a lot of money working for the Institute. There’s a record of the monthly deposits into their bank accounts.”
“ ‘Accounts’ plural?” Luke asked sharply. “There’s more than one?”
“Yes. Separate accounts, one for Octavia and one for Clive. They are each getting hefty CEO-category salaries, Luke.”
“Interesting. I wonder if the Unplugged Experience is just an old-fashioned money laundering operation.”
“We didn’t come here because of a run-of-the-mill business scam. We’re here because Phoebe Hatch found something that linked Venner and the Unplugged Experience to that list we’re chasing.”
“Right,” Luke said. “So the next step is to take a look around Venner’s quarters. I’ll do it tomorrow morning when he leads the first meditation class.”
“There aren’t many guests here this week,” Talia said. “Venner is bound to notice that you’re not in the audience.”
“You’ll have to cover for me. Tell him I overslept or that I got sick on the organic food we ate tonight.”
“I refuse to let you blame your fake illness on Chef Octavia’s risotto.”
“Think of something else, then,” Luke said. “We’ve seen enough. Let’s get out of here.”
She watched him drop a file folder back into a drawer. Energy pulsed around the folder.
“Wait,” she said. “I think that file might be important. What’s in it?”
“Records of recent bookings. Why?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“There’s no time to go through it here. I’ll take it with us.”
When he opened the front of his leather jacket to tuck the folder inside, the beam of her flashlight glinted briefly on dark metal. He had told her he had a pistol, but this was the first time she had seen it. For some reason it came as a shock to realize that it was no longer stowed in his pack.
