I levered myself off the couch, gently. Not a pleasant experience. There were voices in the other room, a man and a woman. It took me a minute to shake off the nerves and figure out who they were. The male voice was Justin’s. The female sounded husky and familiar, but I couldn’t hang a face on her. I trudged into the office to get a look.
Justin sat in the corner of the office farthest from my room. He drank coffee from my only surviving mug and smoked. Sitting on the edge of my desk, with her back to me, was a woman in a paramedic’s getup.
I caught Justin’s eye. He tossed the smoke out of the window before I got any closer. The woman turned my way. She was the EMT who worked on me in the interview room.
Maybe a shade under average height, she had a slim, muscular build. Dark-rooted blond hair pulled back into a tight, short ponytail. It gave her face a front row seat to any event. She was in her early thirties, by the weathering of her features. Far from making her appear old or tired, the age on her face accentuated the bone-deep compassion that resided behind her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. She must have been girl-next-door-pretty when she was younger. A bit of girlish charm still shone through the years of experience in the lines around her eyes.
“You’re awake,” she said, partly surprised, but mostly glad.
“Try to do it every day,” I said.
It was harder than normal to work up my usual humorous pluck.
“Caleb,” Justin said, “This is Cassandra Akers. She checked you over after Alex and I brought you back last night.”
Justin looked like he hadn’t seen the comfortable side of sleep in a lifetime.
“We met at the jail,” I said.
“We didn’t properly introduce ourselves,” she said to Justin.
“No, we didn’t,” I agreed. “Pleasure to meet you. And thanks for patching me up. Again.”
“Sure thing,” Cassandra said, “You need some serious rest, but first, you need an X-ray. Get one as soon as possible. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion.”
Add it to the list.
“I’ll have some free time tomorrow,” I said.
“That’ll probably be ok,” she said. “I wouldn’t take any naps in the next twelve to eighteen hours. Just in case.”
“In case of what?” I asked.
“In case your brain swells while you’re sleeping, and you don’t wake up,” she said. “Just like Bruce Lee.”
“Bruce Lee died from brain swelling?” Justin asked.
“Yep,” she said. “Cerebral edema due to hypersensitivity to a headache medicine.”
“Wow,” Justin said.
“Who’s Bruce Lee?” I asked.
Their faces froze in masks of amazement. I realized I had just let something slip.
Usually, I get by without many cultural references since I don’t remember many. Keeping a low profile on amnesia means talking around things you can’t remember and being quick to change the subject if the conversation gets too information-intensive.
Guess I was off my game.
They looked at one another and Cassandra started laughing. It was a full-throated laugh, full of life. Justin followed suit, although his laugh was more restrained and tired. I shook my head.
Sometimes, amnesia is a bitch.
“The concussion must be worse than I thought,” Cassandra said, still rolling in the wake of her own laughter.
“Must be,” Justin said, spitting laughter through pursed lips.
I let them laugh. Hell, I even felt like giggling myself, although I knew the joke was on me.
Fuck it. Might as well enjoy it while it’s here.
From somewhere, deep in my head, I heard “That’s my boy.”
It was like the echo of a whisper spoken by some faraway spirit. The words, her words, coiled one quick circuit around the base of my skull and were gone in an instant. Goosebumps popped up on my arms and then, like the voice, disappeared into the ether. The dream was already fading in my memory, and when the words vanished, so did any trace of things I’d seen and done. Only a vague sense, uneasy and certain, lingered in my guts.
“Well, it looks like he’s doing ok,” Cassandra said. “I have to get going. My shift’s been over for a couple of hours and I’m beat.”
“Thanks for looking in on him,” Justin said.
“Sure thing,” she said. “Before I go.”
She walked over and put a hand on my face. I flinched.
“Nothing to worry about,” she said, “I just want to take one more look at your pupils before I split.”
I relaxed and let her shine a penlight in my eyes. A strange sense of déjà vu blew through me, leaving behind the faint odor of antiseptic and confusion.
“Looks all right,” she said, “but still, get that X-ray as soon as you can.”
“Will do,” I said.
“See you later,” she said to Justin.
Then she walked out, still giggling to herself and saying, “Who’s Bruce Lee?”
Well, at least I was making someone’s day.
“Friend of yours?” I asked.
“Yep,” Justin said. “I had her look in on you at the jail, and again this morning.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Hey, where’s Alex, anyway?”
“Had to go to work,” Justin said. “Seems he was out for his morning run and heard the commotion.”
“Good thing he did,” I said.
“Yep.”
“I thought you were following me,” I said.
“I got caught up, taking care of Allison,” he said.
“Taking care of?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I handcuffed her to the filing cabinet.”
“How’d that work out?”
“I have a nice bruise on my sternum,” he said.
I shot a glance at the filing cabinet. Dangling from the handle of the top drawer was an empty pair of cuffs.
“Full of surprises, that girl,” Justin said, absently rubbing the spot on his chest.
“Sure is,” I said.
“She couldn’t be there,” Justin said, “In case it became a police matter. Which it did.”
“Didn’t expect any of them to be carrying a gun,” I said. “Figured they would have gone with the baseball bat and the mojo, like last time.”
“They’re moving up in the world,” Justin said. “In police terms, we call that escalation.”
Yeah, escalation. No shit.
“No Hannah?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “Just a trap. Figured it would be.”
“You did? And you still went?” he asked, peering at me over his glasses.
“Not like I had much of a choice,” I said.
“Guess not,” he said.
We didn’t speak for a minute. Justin passed me the half-full mug of coffee. It was still warm, but not enough to keep me from knocking it back in one, long slug. I refilled it and handed it back. Justin took the cup and sniffed the steam before taking the first, tentative sip. A thought occurred to me.
“Hey, you know of any missing girls, maybe freshman at the University?” I asked.
“Not off the top of my head,” he replied.
“How about any bodies found recently, young female, burn marks on the corpse?” I asked.
“I could check with homicide,” he said.
“Might be burned mostly beyond recognition,” I said, “but look for blonde hair dyed a shitty black.”
“Why?” Justin asked.
“When the jack-offs were gloating last night, they mentioned a ‘last one,’” I said. “Said she was young and had to be ‘modified for their purposes’ whatever the hell that means. Could be something to tie them to. Could also get a case off the books, if there is one. Don’t know where they dumped the body.”
“I’ll look into it,” he said. “Now tell me about this mojo stuff.”
“Not much to tell, mainly because I don’t know anything for certain,” I said.
“I’ll take what I can get,” he said.
“Promise not to have me locked up,” I said, “but, as crazy as it seems, I think they’re using magic.”
“Magic?”
“Yep, no shit magic,” I said. “In the last few days, I’ve experienced too many unexplainable things for it to be anything else.”
“I’m sure there is some kind of reasonable…”
“Yes,” I said, cutting him off, “and it’s magic. Or maybe you’d like to tell me a reasonable explanation for why I seem to be having an amplifying effect on open flames.”
“Got me on that one,” he said. “Maybe pops was right, all those years.”
“Your father was a preacher, wasn’t he?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, “and he was always going on about forces greater than man in this world.”
“Didn’t he mean God?”
“I’m sure he did,” Justin said, “but if there is one supernatural force in the universe, why can’t there be more? And then there was grandma.”
“What about grandma?” I asked.
“We used to visit her every Saturday,” he said. “My father’s mother. She lived in an old, dirt-floor cabin in the mountains. Always had a pot of foul-smelling stuff boiling on the stove, always herbs and weeds drying in the sun. Used to tell the best ghost stories about haints and witches. She came up from farther south; no one quite knows where for certain. Didn’t even have a proper birth certificate, just the old family Bible. Was always beaming proud of dad for...”
“For what?”
“For workin’ agin’ the Forces, she would say,” he said, his eyes drifting off into the distance.
“The Forces?”
He nodded, still partially lost in his memory.
“Ok,” I said, not quite sure what to make of any of it.
The Forces? More than one? Hell.
“So,” he said, coming back into focus, “We take it at face value that there is magic in the world. I’m not saying I believe it, but for the purposes of this case, say there is, and these assholes have gotten a hold of some of it. What the hell do we do about it?”
“Play it hard and fast, and try to be smarter than the other guy,” I said.
“That why we had to cut chemical ice packs off your ribs?”
“Yep,” I said. “They got some of my blood. Diana says that gives them a conduit to me. Something by, or through, which they can affect me with the mojo.”
“What does it do?”
“The guy, Drake, had a copper disk,” I said. “When he’s close enough, he can use it to jack up my body temperature.”
“How high?” he asked. “Like a bad fever?”
“Like the fucking plague,” I said.
I described for Justin how it felt, how bad the pain was whenever Drake flashed me with the disk.
“Fuck,” he said.
Fuck is right.
“The ice packs help?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Gave me enough relief to move around and think a little. Not too well, though.”
“Wonder if it’ll work again?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “There are too many things I don’t know when it comes to this stuff.”
“Me either,” he said. “Oh, hell. I forgot to tell you, Diana came by while you were unconscious. She said she’d come back if you woke up.”
“Her confidence is inspiring.”
“Sure is,” he said. “You know, she’s creepy, in an oddly cute way.”
“She’s a predator,” I said. “It’s in her eyes. Be careful around her.”
Justin nodded.
“Go away,” he said.
“Huh?”
“I want to smoke a cigarette and think,” he said, “and I don’t want to burn my nose off in the process. So, shoo.”
Did he just shoo me away?
I headed into the bathroom, shaking my head.
Splash some water on your face, brush your teeth, and you’ll be right as rain.
I checked my reflection in the mirror, and the mirror was not in the mood to be kind.
Dark circles spread out like ripples in a polluted pond, around my eyes. My hair was messy as hell. Blood caked in the area where the brick, or whatever it was, had cracked me in the head. The fluorescent lighting made the dried blood black, which made the strands of silver stand out even more.
Exactly how old am I?
Then I tried to fit as much of my head as possible under the cold running faucet. Most of the blood came out in the rinse. The cold water cleared my head a bit. I dried off my head and face and went to brush my teeth. Figured my toothbrush had fallen behind the toilet. I knelt down to look: nothing. And then, a sound in my head, like someone sucking their tongue against their teeth.
What you are missing is what isn’t there.
My fucking toothbrush!
My mind raced for an explanation. It found one in that nagging sensation that had dogged me earlier; when Diana had come to the office and gone all moon-eyed over Allison. But she hadn’t followed Allison into the room with me. She’d been just about as close to Allison as clothing would allow up to that point, but she hadn’t followed her into the room. Now I knew why. The little bitch had been stealing my toothbrush.
What the fuck could she do with a toothbrush?
The words personal effect and direct conduit bubbled up from my subconscious.
I’ll fucking kill her.
Then I wondered if I had any mouthwash left.
Sometimes I switch gears fast.
There was no mouthwash to be had, so I managed as best I could. Cold water lit up a hundred tiny sparks of pain in my mouth. Must’ve been from where I fell, face first, into the rubble. The outside looked ok, well, ok for me. Must’ve crushed my teeth against the inside of my cheek. I swished the water around and spat it, pink, into the sink. I did it a second time with the same effect. My teeth were all in place. A quick prodding with my tongue told me none of them were loose.
Well, that’s something good.
Closing the door, I set to removing the dead ice packs from my groin. They were completely spent. The tape pulled at my leg hair. I winced in pain several times before finally extricating myself from the jury-rigged cooling system. That done, I limped back out to the office, trying not to let the raw spots on my inner thighs touch.
“Saddlesore?” Justin asked.
“Something like that,” I said.
“Don’t tell me you had more packs taped down there,” he said.
I nodded, uncomfortably.
“You are a braver man than I,” he said and started laughing through his lips again.
“Laugh it up,” I said, and took three steps closer to him.
His cigarette glowed like a blacksmith’s furnace. He got it out of his lips, and out the window before anything caught fire.
“Funny,” he said. “Very funny. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d actually like to finish the next one.
I nodded and headed back into my room, looking for fresher clothes. I changed with difficulty and went back into the office. Justin had almost finished his smoke when I came through the door.
“That’s better,” he said.
He flicked the butt out of the window before I sat down in my now disemboweled vinyl chair.
“Bastards,” I said, as I readjusted several times to avoid the spring that had come loose in the assault. “This is my favorite chair.”
“Damn shame,” Justin said, without sarcasm. “What do we do now?”
“Not sure,” I said, “There’s too much I don’t know.”
“True,” he said, “but we’ve dealt with kidnappers before.”
“They’re more than that,” I said.
“I know,” he said, “but we can’t calculate for that. Too many variables. Too many what-ifs. So, we have to go on what we know. And we know something about kidnappers.”
“Yeah, we do.”
“What else do we know?” he asked. “What could you get out of them at the meet?”
I told, as best as I could remember, what was said.
“Some kind of ceremony,” he mused. “And he said he would still have you for it?”
I nodded.
“That tells us something, at least,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, “It tells us that they want me, specifically. For what, I have no idea.”
“Me neither,” he said, “but it does make one thing predictable. If they want you, they’re going to have to get you. And since you don’t know where they are, they’re going to have to come looking for you.”
I nodded again.
“I hate to say it,” he said, “but our best option is to stay put.”
“Stay put?”
“Yes,” he said, “and fortify our position.”
“Sure thing, generalissimo,” I said, “and how do we manage that?”
“Guns, I’m thinking,” he said, “and maybe a few other items I’ll have to pick up.”
“You’re leaving me?” I asked in a mock wounded voice.
“Not just yet, smart ass,” he said, “but there will be fewer questions if I gather the supplies. Besides, I have to figure out what I’m going to tell the captain about last night.”
“How’s that been playing out?”
“Arrested the fat one for assault and disturbing the peace. Haven’t got much farther than that in the story,” He said.
“Captain’s not chalking it up to the usual weirdness in your department?” I asked.
“He might,” Justin said, “but some dickhead on the oversight committee is breathing down his neck. It has been made plain that if I don’t close this case, post haste, it will be my neck that feels the heat.”
I checked and loaded my pistol, thinking about what Justin said. It felt good to have the old .45 in my hands again. It had a cold weight that grounded me and calmed my nerves.
“Think we can pin it on the fat one?” I asked.
“If we can’t arrest anyone else,” he said. “We’re going to have to.”
“Might come to that,” I said. “If it does, you let me take care of the evidence.”
“Still have to earn your commission, huh?”
“I like to give people what they pay for,” I said.
He nodded and got up for more coffee. I asked him about getting the supplies. He wanted to stay, at least until Diana had come and gone. He and I shared an unspoken sentiment. The woman was not to be trusted, for more reason than Justin knew.
“Hey,” I said, “I thought the oversight committee only dealt with, like, brutality cases. You know, bad PR stuff.”
“So did I,” he said. “For some reason, god only knows, they’ve decided to pay attention to this.”
“I guess our last case wasn’t great for the department’s image,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “Mostly because of Barb and her bullshit. The parents were happy just to have the girl back, alive. But Barbara Hicks had to spin it into something weird and sensational.”
“It was weird and sensational,” I said.
“Yes, but it didn’t need to be drug out for a month’s worth of front pages,” he said.
“And this cocksucker on the oversight committee, he doesn’t read the Wall Street Journal or Newsweek,” I said. “He reads Knoxville Uncovered.”
“Uh huh. And Barb practically runs that rag,” he said. “Well, well. Looks like my pops was right about something else.”
“Yeah?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“Speak the Devil’s name and sometimes she appears,” he said, peering out the window.
“No,” I said, moving to see for myself.
“Yes,” he said.
And he was right. Down on the street, setting up shop like a moneychanger in my temple, was Barbara Hicks. This time she had a cameraman and a sound guy, just like the fucking movies.
“What the hell is she doing with a camera crew?” I asked. “She works for a tabloid.”
“Online content,” Justin said.
“Huh?”
“The Internet,” Justin said.
“Again, huh?”
“Buy a TV and a computer and a damn cell phone while you’re at it,” he said.
“Maybe later,” I said. “Like if I survive the next couple of days, and don’t go to prison for felonious assault.”
“They have computers and TV in jail,” he pointed out.
“Oh, that’s comforting,” I said.
“I’m just saying,” he said.
“Think she’ll get bored after a while and leave?” I asked.
“You mean if you wait?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Justin said. “Especially after you put her boy in the hospital.”
Great.
“How’s he doing, anyway?” I asked.
“He’ll recover,” Justin said, sounding disappointed. “You busted him up pretty good, but nothing permanent. Nothing that won’t heal in a week or two. He should be up and sticking his nose in yours, mine, and everyone else’s business before he can qualify for worker’s compensation.”
“Do you get worker’s comp for being beaten up while illegally surveilling someone’s home and business?” I asked.
“Probably not,” he said, shrugging his shoulders in a manner that said. "Oh well."
My feelings exactly.
“My admirers are going to gum up the gears of our well-oiled plan,” I said.
Justin nodded.
And they were. If the cult came looking for me, the extra witnesses might scare them off. Given what I had seen of the cult’s operation, I didn’t think that was the likeliest of outcomes. More likely, the boys in black would just storm the place, and the video team would get caught in the fire. I didn’t like the idea of innocent bystanders getting hurt. Barb, sure. I don’t think I’d shed a tear if she got a bit crispy around the edges. But, I couldn’t, with any sort of good conscience, let it happen to the poor fools running the equipment.
I am fairly certain worker’s compensation does not cover black magic.
“When do you think Diana will show back up?” Justin asked.
“Given my luck,” I said, “Anytime now.”
The words had no sooner left my lips than I heard the throaty rumble of a motorcycle in the distance. Justin arched an eyebrow at me. I arched one right back. I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with the evil pixie, but I needed Justin to have my back, just in case something went horribly wrong.
“When she comes up, I need you to stay cool,” I said. “Whatever happens, just back my play.”
“Sure thing,” he said.
“And don’t let her have anything of yours,” I added.
“Huh?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Not a cigarette, not a book of matches, nothing. No matter how small. Got it?”
“No,” he said, “but I’ll manage.”
An ear-numbing, high-pitched squeal ricocheted in from the street below. We got to the window in time to see Diana striding confidently away from three very confused busybodies. Black smoke billowed from the sound operator’s battery pack.
“Guess she really means it when she says no comment,” Justin said.
“Guess so,” I said, picking up my hat and setting it, gently, on my head. It rested at a cocked angle, shading my eyes. It was the only way to keep it from sitting directly on the painful lump that had formed on my noggin.
“You know,” I said. “Barb will probably find a way to make it look like I burned out her equipment from up here. Just to be a nuisance.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if she starts printing stories about Tesla’s death ray and your involvement with secret military weapons testing,” he said.
“I didn’t know I was involved in secret military weapons testing,” I said.
“Neither did I,” he said.
“I could sure use some of that secret military stuff right now,” I said.
“So could I,” Justin said.
He looked at me. I looked at him. We both broke out into our own personal cadences of laughter. We were still laughing when Diana strolled through the door. Our laughter petered out at its own pace, which seemed to annoy Diana. Apparently, she thought she’d get a more respectful welcome.
Fat fucking chance, lady.
“You two seem jovial today,” she said.
“And why shouldn’t we be?” Justin asked, smirking at me.
“Yeah, why shouldn’t we be?” I said. “I’ve only had people trying to kill me for the last couple of days, and Justin here is only about to lose his job. What’s not to laugh about?”
Justin looked at me and the laughter broke out all over again. Diana was not pleased, but that made it funnier. It took several minutes for Justin and me to stop giggling. Diana waited, but somehow, I don’t think it due to her boundless patience.
“You have something for me?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said and glided over to stand in front of my desk.
She drew a small, black velvet pouch from her jacket and laid it on the desk. She was still wearing the same clothes as the day before.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It will lead you to where his energy was,” she said.
“Energy?” Justin asked.
I waved him off.
“How does it work?” I asked, pulling the pouch closer on the desk’s surface.
“Not as well as I would like,” she said, “but I didn’t have much time with which to work.”
I tugged the drawstring and dumped the pouch’s contents on the desktop. A small, brass compass, no more than a half an inch in diameter, tumbled out from the velvet. Save for its brass casing, the thing looked like it could have come from the bottom of a box of Cracker Jack.
“Eat all the candy already?” Justin said.
I was not the only one experiencing serious doubts.
“It will suffice,” Diana said.
“How?” I asked.
“Hold it in your right hand and concentrate on the image of the victim. It will lead you to where he spent most of his time.”
“And what if it’s out of state?” Justin asked.
“Hell,” I said, “What if it’s a strip club?”
“The device will work as I have stated,” she said, obviously peeved at our lack of faith. “It will lead you to where he had the most recent and intense emotions.”
“And what if that’s where he died?” Justin asked.
“It probably will be,” she answered flatly.
“What if that’s not where they’re keeping holed up?” I asked.
“That is not my issue,” she said. “I have fulfilled my obligation.”
“Her what?” Justin asked.
“Long story,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
He grumbled something under his breath. Not that I could blame him. I was feeling more than a tad grumbly myself.
“Do you wish my further assistance?” Diana asked. “Perhaps in the matter we discussed last night?”
I stared at her for a moment, wondering what her help would cost me.
“I think I’ll handle this one without you,” I said. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Very well,” she said. “Then our business is concluded.”
She turned and walked toward the door.
“Hold it,” I said.
“Yes?” she said, turning to face me, her eyes agleam with predatory glee.
“There is one thing you can do for me,” I said.
“And what would that be?” she asked, the impish smile curling on her mouth.
“Give me back my fucking toothbrush,” I spat.
“What makes you think I have…”
The sight of my pistol pointed at her midsection, stopped her in mid-sentence.
“I’m betting you can’t pull off anything too spectacular before I can put three rounds in your liver,” I said. “Want to find out?”
I heard the slide cock back on Justin’s 9mm.
“And there’s that,” I said.
She looked positively crestfallen. If I weren’t trying my damnedest to keep up the tough guy look, I’d have been grinning from ear to ear.
“Very well,” she said.
She slithered back to my desk the way a snake approaches prey. I could see the thoughts, biting their own tails, in her mind. Apparently, she thought better, because with two fingers she gently pulled my toothbrush out of her inside pocket and laid it on the desk.
“Thank you,” I said. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”
She cocked her head, just slightly, and walked to the door. Just before stepping over the threshold, she turned to look at me again.
“Yes, a remarkable man,” she said. “We will have to do this again sometime.”
“Not in this lifetime, sister,” I said.
“Perhaps,” she said.
And without another word, she left.
I picked up my toothbrush.
“Remind me to burn this later,” I said.
“Why?” Justin asked.
“Whatever she’s into,” I said, “I sure as hell don’t want it in my mouth.”
“Why’d she take it?”
“Don’t know exactly,” I said, “but she was probably using it to spy on me.”
“So that’s how she knew you were finally awake?” he asked.
“Probably,” I said.
“So, what now?” he asked.
“Now I need to think,” I said.
“Me too,” he said. “Go over there.”
“Those things are bad for you,” I said.
“No more so than knives, bullets or crazy, magic-wielding cults,” he said.
He had me on that one. I moved as far away as I could get and stay in the same room. He lit a cigarette and smoked. The lighter’s flame was larger than normal, but Justin managed not to set himself on fire. I paced the far side of the room, grasping for a plan. I came up empty.
Sure, if Diana’s gizmo worked, it might lead me right to the cult. But what happened then? How many different ways could this go down? And how could we spin it to the rest of the police if things went bad? Would we even be alive if things went bad? There were too many things I didn’t know. I needed to retrace some of my steps and hope a clue jumped out at me.
“You’d better go get those supplies,” I said, “and maybe catch a nap.”
“We don’t have time for that,” he said.
“Sure we do,” I said. “The cult’s probably gearing up to come after me as we speak. Hopefully, that means Hannah is still ok.”
“So?”
“So,” I said, “So far, they haven’t come after me, in force, in daylight. They’re probably looking for a nighttime hit. It gives us time. And we need all the time we can get.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to figure some things out, try to come up with a brilliant plan to save Hannah, not get killed, and close this case,” I said.
“What are the chances of that?”
“I haven’t considered the odds yet,” I said.
“This is not making me feel better,” he said.
“Me, either,” I said. “I could use a walk to clear my head.”
“How are you going to get past the stalkerazzi out there?”
“Best if you don’t concern yourself with the details,” I said.
“I was afraid you would say that,” he said.
He was already pulling on his suit jacket and holstering his weapon.
“Trust me,” I said.
“Where I come from,” he said, “That usually means duck.”
He straightened his screaming-loud tie and left, shaking his head the whole way. I watched through the window as he "no official comment"-ed a path through Barb and her troops, although he nearly had to run one of them over to get the car away from the curve.
I picked up the phone and dialed Terry. I needed to see if he’d found anything. He had. We arranged to meet at his place in an hour and a half.
Then I dialed John McDaniels. He sounded surprised to hear from me so soon.
“Feel like getting into a little trouble?” I asked.
“Make it a lot of trouble and I’m in,” he said.
“I have some reporters, camped out in front of my office,” I said. “I need a bit of a distraction.”
“How big?”
“Big enough for me to get out of this place without being noticed,” I said.
“Can do,” he said. “Give me fifteen minutes. And, I like single malt scotch.”
“I see a bottle in your future,” I said.
He laughed, repeated the words fifteen minutes, and hung up. I spent ten minutes cleaning myself up and drinking more coffee. I dropped my toothbrush in the only desk drawer that still had a working lock. With a pencil, I slid the brass compass back into the velvet pouch. After strapping on my gun and knife, I wriggled, painfully, into my jacket. By the time I’d finished tying my shoes, the fifteen minutes were nearly up.
I wondered, for a bemused second or two, just how McDaniels was going to pull off this distraction. I didn’t think he’d kill anybody when he wasn’t working, but then I didn’t know him that well. Pretty soon, I would find out just what his idea of a bit of a distraction was. Thankfully, I did not have to wait long.