well-drilling equipment attached to the pier. It had been a start. The Order had been involved in mining on land, as well, but cave-ins and environmental impact studies slowed them to a crawl.
But offshore oil drilling kept their progress hidden from the public eye. As long as the population needed oil, he had the money to continue their quest, cutting deeper toward the Earth’s core.
None of his ancestors had lived to see the success of their quest. He would be the first, because this time, he’d given the Order a valuable tip, an ace up his sleeve. While he’d attended college, he’d dated a woman with a gift for music. She’d dazzled him at first, but as he got to know her better, he learned she was plagued with strange dreams about ancient Greece and a dilapidated theater here on the West Coast.
Over time, they’d drifted apart, but after graduation, he’d followed her to Crystal City and discovered that, as crazy as it seemed, his ex-girlfriend was connected with eight more women sharing the same dream of a worn-down theater slated for demolition. And each woman excelled at a different skill set, just as his ex had with music.
And then suddenly he knew who these women were.
The nine Greek Muses, awakened again for this generation of man and meant to inspire mankind forward in the sciences and the arts. They’d been brought together through the shared dream of a theater that could change the world. They were now united, driven in their passion to reopen the Theater of the Muses. The same Masonic think tank that had existed in France in the eighteenth century and catered to the likes of Voltaire and Benjamin Franklin.
But the Order was too close to success now, too close to the center of the Earth, to the Titans. The last things he needed were solar cars and homes. For over a century, his family had perfected the technology to drill oil offshore, but without humanity’s need for the black gold, his funding would dry up. Literally.
He’d called a meeting, and the Order of the Titans had agreed with his assessment. This generation, the Order would be successful where previous generations had failed, because this time they would steal mankind’s inspiration. They would kill the muses for the greater good.
Ted smiled. The Golden Age of Man would return, and he would be immortalized as the man with the vision to see the quest to its finish.
For the good of mankind.
CHAPTER 4
N ate opened the coffee shop door and spotted Mel sitting at a table in the corner. Her dark-red hair hung like a veil, hiding her face, but somehow that didn’t matter. His senses honed in on her the second he walked in. He’d like to blame it on his highly developed observation abilities, but police training had nothing to do with his strange attraction to this woman.
As he approached, she glanced up from her papers. “I didn’t think you’d show.”
He frowned. “Did I do something to make you think I’d stand up a woman who offered me help?”
“No.” Mel chuckled and gestured toward the other chair. “But if there’s a dark side or a tragedy to be found, that’s the first place my mind goes.”
He sat across from her, and his blood pressure already seemed to be normalizing just being near her. “Can I ask you something?”
She set her red pen down. “Sure.”
“How did you come up with mixing the blues and poetry?”
“This is going to help with Nia’s case?”
He ran a hand down his face. Way to be professional, Malone. Shit. “Never mind.”
“Tell you what…” She leaned a little closer. “You answer my personal question, and I’ll answer yours. And if we’re brave enough, we can do one more round. Sound fair?”
He cocked a brow. Was she daring him? “I guess that depends on how personal your question is.”
She took a sip of her coffee and slowly set the mug back on the table. “What happened at my condo the other night? Something shook you up when we went back there.”
Damn it. He