2 Pane of Death Read Free Page B

considered her a friend. But rather than latch on to him, Allison was taking time to find out who she really was, which frustrated my brother no end. I was caught in the middle: I applauded her choice, but I ached for Cam. Still, I held on to the hope that things would work out for them in the long run.
    I hit his speed-dial button. He answered on the second ring. “Cameron Dowell.”
    “Hey, brother of mine—why so formal?”
    “Oh, hi, Em—I didn’t look at the ID. I was working on a piece of code and I guess my head is in work mode. To what do I owe the honor of this call?”
    “Hey, I call you regularly, don’t I?” I struggled to remember the last time and gave up. “Anyway, I’ve got something really neat to tell you. Only you can’t tell anyone else.”
    “Okay. Besides, I talk to about three humans a week, and I don’t think they know what a conversation is. What’s up?”
    “Peter Ferguson is living in Tucson and I’m going to meet him tomorrow.”
    Cam’s silence went on so long I was beginning to wonder if he’d passed out.
    “You there?”
    “What? Oh, sure. Hey, that’s really interesting. The whole cyber community has been wondering what happened to him. After he bailed out of PrismCo he sort of disappeared. So he’s in Tucson? For keeps?”
    “I think so. Apparently he’s building a house, or fixing one up—that’s why I’m going over there.” Funny, I had expected more enthusiasm from my brother. “You don’t sound very excited. Is there something I should know?”
    More silence. Then Cam said slowly, “I’m not sure. How much do you know about him?”
    “Not much. I know the name, and the name PrismCo. He founded the company, right?”
    “Yeah. He was a real pioneer, and he had . . . has a very creative mind. But . . .”
    His reluctance was driving me crazy. “But what? Come on, spill it.”
    “There were some bad feelings when he left PrismCo. Like he took his profits out, and the company just imploded. It’s not really clear whether his leaving was cause or effect, but there were some unhappy people. What’s he want you to do for him?”
    “Actually, it was Madelyn Sheffield who brought me in. You remember her? She does stained-glass, um, art.”
    “Spacy blonde with ruffles? I think so. I didn’t think you two were buddies.”
    I snorted. “We’re not. But she came to me and asked me to help. I haven’t said yes, but I’ll admit I’m curious to meet the man. I can still back out, if something smells.”
    “If you want my opinion, make sure you get paid up front.”
    That piqued my curiosity. “Why? Does this guy have a reputation for stiffing people?”
    “I’d hate to go that far, but there’s something not right there. What does he want you to do?”
    “Maddy tells me he collects stained-glass pieces, and he wants to showcase them in his house. She wants help with the lighting, or so she says. I get the feeling she’s scared to death of blowing the job and wants some backup. I said I’d talk to the man, look at the place. I haven’t committed to anything yet.”
    “Well, that sounds tame enough. Have fun. You can fill me in over the weekend.”
    “You’re coming back again?”
    “Why, you tired of me?”
    “No, of course not, idiot. Does Allison know?”
    “Yes.”
    I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “Okay, I’ll look forward to seeing you. The usual time?”
    “I think so—Friday dinner, latish. Okay?”
    “Better than okay. Then I can dish about the mysterious Peter Ferguson. But I’m teaching Saturday afternoon, remember. The usual beginners class, and some of my advanced students wanted some furnace time, and probably some hand-holding to go with it, so I’ll probably be down in the studio most of the day.”
    “Not a problem. I’ll find something to keep me busy. See you Friday, then.”
    After we hung up, I wondered how things with Allison were going. We had an unspoken pact not to talk about it, period. I had