Ralph sat behind the wheel of the SUV. Joe was next to him in the passenger’s seat. Seth and Walt were in the rear seat. They all watched the windows on the second floor of the inn. The blinds were pulled shut, but firelight flickered on the shades.
Chastain and Raines were inside, but Ralph had concluded there was no way to get at them without setting off the inn’s security alarms. There was also the problem of the psychic gadget the woman had used on Joe earlier that evening. Ralph knew enough about paranormal weapons now to be wary of someone who seemed to be able to use one.
But the real issue was that he and the others could not hang around long enough to try to take out Chastain and Raines. They were now suspects in the murder of Garraway. They all had to keep moving. The project was in serious jeopardy.
“We’ll get another shot at them tomorrow when they leave town,” Seth muttered.
Ralph gripped the steering wheel with both hands, fighting a toxic mix of frustration and fury. “What went wrong at the hospital?”
“I dunno.” Walt massaged his temples. “I told you. The woman did something to me with her necklace.”
“Loring is going to be pissed when he finds out that Chastain has the machine,” Joe observed.
Ralph scowled. “Dr. Loring said there was a second machine, remember? That’s what we’re after.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Walt slumped against the door. “I’m beat. That bitch really did a number on me. I need to sleep.”
“I’m not feeling so good, either,” Joe muttered.
Seth banged one fist against the back of the seat. “Fuck. It was all going so well. Now the whole plan is falling apart.”
Back at the start Loring had made it sound so simple, Ralph reflected. The night gun was the perfect weapon. It left no forensic evidence. All that was required was proper tuning. He and the others had fired the gun on several occasions. They were adjusting to the powerful psychic recoil, growing stronger. And once they had mastered the gun, Loring promised there were plenty more from the cache of paranormal weapons.
Ralph was the one who had used it on Chandler Chastain. Loring had been sure the authorities would assume Chastain had suffered a stroke and died.
Ralph had felt weird afterward but Loring had explained that the crystal that powered the gun sent out some major psychic shock waves. It took time to adjust to the device. It was a little more complicated than the explosive they had set in the abandoned apartment building.
But Chandler Chastain had not died and the Foundation had not bought the stroke story. Within hours North Chastain had arrived on the scene. Then Loring had disappeared and he had taken the night gun with him. Now North Chastain had the special machine. Loring was not going to be happy about that.
Ralph watched the upstairs windows of the inn for a couple more minutes and then he fired up the SUV’s heavy engine.
“If Chastain found the right artifact we’ll know soon enough,” he said.
“How?” Joe asked.
“He’ll head straight for Fogg Lake.”