“Because he’s an outsider,” Dutch explained. “He came into this deal with lots of ideas that were unconventional and ran into a culture that has always rigidly followed the rule book. He’s pushing for the bureau as a whole to think differently, to experiment and try out new investigative techniques. It’s what his old culture—the CIA—is renowned for.”
“They experiment a lot over at the CIA?”
Dutch smiled and nodded. “That they do,” he said. “Those guys are famous for pushing the envelope and they’ll try anything, which is what has made them so successful over the years.”
“And so scary,” I said.
“That too.”
“Okay,” I conceded. “We’ll give it our best shot and hope we don’t screw it up.”
Dutch tilted his chin and let out a laugh. When I demanded to know what was so funny, he said, “Oh, you’ll screw up all right. The only question is by how much.”
I gave him a level look. “You have no faith.” But deep down I thought he might be right.
The next morning Candice picked me up at eight and we shared a quick breakfast at the Bagel Factory before heading to the local bureau office. On the way there Candice did her best to pump up my confidence. “Just be yourself,” she advised.
“Who else would I be?”
“You know what I mean,” she said with an impatient wave of her hand. “Don’t let those bastards rattle you. After all, you’re the one that came up with the new lead. You’re the one that has them finally going in the right direction. You’re the one that linked in with Bianca and found her body. You’re the one—”
“Candice?” I interrupted.
“Yeah?”
“You’re making my stomach hurt.”
She eyed me from the driver’s seat. “Okay,” she said. “No more pep talk.”
“Thanks.”
We parked the car and headed inside. I noticed that we were five minutes early as we took our seats. I didn’t really have a chance to get settled, as, just like in D.C., a female agent came to retrieve us from the lobby and invited us to follow her. We were then escorted to a conference room and told to wait. I fidgeted in my chair, trying not to be nervous as I told myself over and over that I’d been through this before, so how bad could it really get?
The door opened and in walked Agent Gaston, Agent Harrison, and an older gentleman I didn’t recognize, but who practically oozed power from every pore. I also noticed immediately the man had a strong resemblance to Agent Harrison. “Ladies,” Gaston said pleasantly.
“Good morning, sir,” we both mumbled.
“Thank you for joining us. You remember Agent Harrison?”
We both nodded and Harrison nodded back, his stony eyes hard.
“And this is Regional Director of Special Investigations, Agent Harrison Senior, who is also Agent Brice Harrison’s uncle.”
Candice stood slightly to shake the older man’s hand. “Sir,” she said.
“Ms. Fusco,” he replied before turning to me.
I extended my hand and he shook it once, then sat back in his chair to stare at us bemusedly. “I understand that you two have come across some information that is relevant to this investigation,” he began.
Candice and I nodded again.
“And I understand that Ms. Cooper here claims to have some psychic ability?”
I smiled. “Guilty as charged,” I said.
He smiled back at me and asked, “Might I see a demonstration?”
I blinked at him in confusion as my heartbeat picked up a notch. “Sir?”
“I would like to see this ability if I may. That is, if you don’t mind?”
The way he said it left little doubt that he would definitely mind if I turned his request down. But I still wasn’t sure what he was asking me. “Who specifically would you like me to demonstrate on, sir?” I asked.
“Why,” he said, looking around like it was obvious, “on me, of course.”
“Ah,” I said. I’d been afraid of that. Like his nephew, Agent Harrison Senior didn’t strike me as someone with a very open mind, and I thought he might be hard to read.
Still, at this point I figured I didn’t have too much to lose, so I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “The first thing I’m picking up for you is a connection to the Pacific Northwest. Specifically I’m picking up Seattle, but the connection is slightly off. And what I mean by that is that I believe you might be connected to someone who lives in Seattle, rather than to a specific location within the city. The individual connected to you is a woman, and I believe she has dark brown hair. She’s got lovely energy, and she’s very soft and kind. I’m seeing Christmas lights around this woman, and if I had to put this information together, I would say that I believe you will receive an invitation to join her for the holidays. You will be tempted to turn it down because you don’t think your work schedule will allow you to get away, but I believe you can and that you should in fact accept.
“Also, there is a position opening one level above you. Someone is retiring soon, and you will be one of the candidates up for the position.” I opened my eyes at this point and noticed that I definitely had the older man’s full attention and keen interest. Looking him straight in the eye, I said, “I don’t believe you will be selected for the promotion. I think it’s going to another man about ten years your junior and with jet-black hair, but only because he is owed a political favor.”
Harrison Senior squinted at me and I wondered whether that narrowed-eyed look was a family trait. “Extraordinary,” he said, breaking out into a broad smile.
“I told you she was good,” Gaston said proudly, and I took extra pleasure in seeing Harrison Junior fuming in his seat.
“Yes, Bill, you did. And I am very impressed. All right, Ms. Cooper, you’ve convinced me, even though I’m sure my nephew still remains rather skeptical. I would like to invite you to participate in the rest of this investigation.”
Harrison Junior opened his mouth as if to protest, but his uncle lifted his hand slightly in warning and Junior shut his mouth.
“Thank you, sir,” I said. “But we have some conditions.”
The room went completely silent as all three agents stared at me as if I’d just committed the worst imaginable faux pas. “Conditions?” Harrison Senior finally asked.
“Yes, sir. You see, when we were asked last time to participate, we were told not to ask questions and to only observe the situation, but my intuition is at its optimum potential when I’m engaged with the subject. I will often need to ask some clarifying questions to rule out possible misinterpretations of the images I’m seeing in my head.”
Harrison Senior shot a glance at Gaston, who gave him the smallest of shrugs as if he hadn’t known I would be capable of such a request.
“The last thing we want to do is to lead you down a false trail,” Candice explained, coming to my rescue. “And because Abby’s radar works with images and pictures, she will need to rule out certain scenarios before she can commit to recommending a course of action or a specific direction.”
Harrison Senior seemed to take that in for a moment. “All right,” he said cautiously. “But I shall defer to my nephew to determine whether the line of questioning you’re taking is appropriate for the time and place. The last thing we want to do is tip our hand to anyone who might be involved in these abductions, so we will need to proceed with caution.”
“Understood,” I said. “And that brings me to my next condition.”
Harrison Senior appeared to be running out of patience, but I gave him credit for asking, “And that would be?”
I took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to like what I had to say. “I understand your nephew’s skepticism, sir,” I began, looking pointedly at Harrison Junior. “And I am honestly not here to try and make him a believer. But I find that working alongside a hostile and negative attitude is detrimental to my ability to focus and concentrate on the things I’m trying to pick up on. My craft is one of subtlety, and I cannot a
fford to be continually distracted by the attitude of a pessimistic and judgmental person.”
Agent Harrison Senior’s mouth curled up slightly. “I see,” he said. “And what would you like me to do about that?”
“May we work with another agent?” I asked hopefully, even while Harrison Junior seethed at me across the table.
Harrison Senior seemed very amused by my request, but he said, “No, Ms. Cooper. I’m sorry. My nephew is the lead on this investigation and he shall remain so.”
Harrison Junior changed the glare into a smug look of satisfaction and he leaned back in his chair like he was all that and a bag of chips. “However,” his uncle added, “I do not believe it is outside the realm of protocol to ask Agent Harrison to treat you with the utmost dignity and respect, which I have no doubt he will do now that you’ve made your concerns known.”
It was my turn to look smug and I made sure to rub it in for all it was worth. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.”
“You are most welcome,” he said, still smirking. “Are there any other conditions you would like to make me aware of?”
I looked to Candice and she said, “We would respectfully ask that Agent Rivers not be blamed, or used as a scapegoat in any way, should this case not have a satisfactory conclusion. It’s very important to Abby and me that his job not come under jeopardy if we are unable to assist you in the solving of this case.”
Harrison Senior’s face turned a dangerous shade of red, and he gave Candice a look that suggested she’d just insulted him and the bureau. “Of course,” he said softly after a long uncomfortable pause. He then effectively ended the discussion by getting up from the table. “Thank you again for coming in and meeting with us. My nephew will bring you up to speed on the latest developments and discuss next steps. Bill, if you would please meet with me privately?”
“Of course, sir,” Gaston said, standing up as well.
Before Harrison Senior left, however, he made a point of looking Harrison Junior in the eye and commanding, “Take good care of them, Brice.”
“Yes, sir,” his nephew replied curtly.
And then we were alone with one surly FBI agent and a hell of a tough case to solve.
Chapter Eight
In the pronounced silence that followed Agent Harrison Senior and Gaston’s departure, I tried not to fidget. But it was really, really hard. Especially under the steely glare of Agent Harrison Junior. “Where would you like us to start?” Candice asked pleasantly.
Harrison’s eyes swiveled to Candice and she smiled like a cat peering through the goldfish bowl, daring the little fishie to jump out of the water. “Our focus has been on the Newhouse kid,” Harrison said after a pause.
“Have you discovered anything relevant?”
“Not really,” Harrison said, and I knew he wasn’t going to fill us in on the investigation so far, no matter what he’d been ordered.
“I really think he and Leslie Coyle knew each other,” I offered, trying to move this along.
Harrison’s eyebrows arched in mock surprise, and I could tell he was pretending to be out of the loop, just to be difficult. “And why do you think that?”
I could have called him out on playing dumb, but decided to be patient and play his game instead. “We found a passage in Bianca’s journal that indicated she was hanging out with three other kids at the Midwestern political caucus in Chicago two years ago,” I told him.
Candice took over from there, saying, “In the journal entry Bianca indicates two of the kids by the initials N. H. and an L. We believe the N. H. stands for Newhouse, and the L. is for Leslie. We know from speaking to Representative Lovelace, who attended the conference with his daughter, that both Senator Newhouse and Representative Coyle were in attendance and we believe that they also brought Kyle and Leslie with them. I’d put money on the kids having hung out together over that weekend.” When Candice finished she looked at me expectantly.
“What?” I whispered.
“Tell him what you picked up when we went to OSU.”
I could feel my cheeks redden a bit. I hated discussing my intuition with hard-core skeptics. There was always a twinge of fear that I might suddenly be pronounced insane and carted off by men in white coats. Still, I sucked it up and said, “I think that Leslie and Kyle were together the day he disappeared.”
Harrison scoffed. “Impossible. Leslie didn’t vanish until five days after Kyle.”
“That doesn’t negate the possibility that she and Kyle met on the day he was abducted,” Candice pointed out.
Harrison’s jaw clenched and I had a small moment where I almost felt sorry for him. Turning to me, he asked, “Why do you suspect they met the day Kyle went missing?”
My cheeks reddened again. “I felt it in the ether,” I said meekly. Harrison blinked at me, as if I’d just said something in Martian. “When Candice and I went to OSU, we walked the campus according to Kyle’s schedule,” I explained.
“Why?”
It was my turn to blink. “Well,” I said, searching for a way to describe it to him in terms he’d understand. “Because space is often imprinted with the energy of the person moving through it. Think of it like the residual scent of someone a bloodhound is tracking. If I can connect even remotely to the person I’m trying to track, I can follow their energy path and get a feel for what happened to them at a specific location.”
Harrison’s expression changed subtly, and for the first time since we’d met him, he had the smallest look of interest. “And what you’re telling me is that you got a proverbial whiff of Kyle at OSU and you also got a whiff of Leslie?”
I nodded vigorously. “Exactly.”
“So what happened when they met?”
“That, I can’t specifically tell you,” I said. “And what I mean is that the energy didn’t contain any sense of violence.”
“What did it contain?”
I thought back to what I’d felt under that buckeye tree. “Urgency,” I said. “There was a definite sense of urgency.”
Harrison sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, regarding me for another one of his famous pauses. “Okay,” he said after a minute. “I’ll check in with Leslie’s roommates and see if she took off around the time of Kyle’s disappearance. He went missing on a Thursday evening, so she could feasibly have cut her classes that day and driven to OSU to be back in time for her Monday schedule.”
“Have you had a chance to comb through the kids’ e-mail accounts for any link to each other?” Candice asked him.
“We have,” he said. “We’ve found none.”
“Chat rooms?”
“Yes. No links.”
I frowned. “So all we have is this really loose connection to each other in one of Bianca’s journals.”
“And the fact that we think they may have attended the same conference two years ago.”
“I’ll contact Kyle’s father and Leslie’s mother to confirm that they and their children were all at the conference at the same time,” Harrison told us as he jotted himself a note.
“I’m also worried about the kids of some of the other members on that committee,” I said.
Harrison nodded and made another note about contacting Lovelace to get a description and follow up on the lead.
“So where do we go next?” I asked. I expected him to tell us to go back home and wait for him to need us, which of course he wouldn’t.
He surprised me, however, by suggesting that we come along with him to interview Kyle’s parents. “Who knows?” he said. “Maybe the kid’s ghost will show up and give you a few clues.”
I stared at him in surprise, not really believing that he was starting to crack the granitelike resistance he’d put up until now. “Come on,” I said good-naturedly. “Even you have to admit that Bianca contacting me was a good hit.”
But Harrison simply moved his chair back and stood up. “We leave tomorrow morning at seven. Please be downstairs in the parking lot on time.”
> After he’d gone, I turned to Candice and with pretend gushiness said, “I bet you he’s a blast at parties!”
Candice grinned. “Come on, Sundance,” she said. “I’ve got to get going. I have a meeting with my grandmother’s estate attorney at noon.”
My good humor vanished. “How’re you doing?” I asked.
Candice shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I’m not looking forward to the meeting, though. It’s just too big of a reminder that she’s gone.”
“You could postpone it,” I suggested as we walked out of the conference room.
Candice sighed heavily. “I’d rather just get it over with. Plus, it’s probably a good idea to talk to the attorney about how to deal with any debt she’s left behind. I tell you, with business as slow as it is, I don’t know how I’m going to manage her mortgage payment and my rent.”
“You could forget about renting my place and move into her old house,” I suggested. Candice rented the house I’d lived in before I moved in with Dutch, and I didn’t want her to think that I wouldn’t let her out of her lease immediately in light of the circumstances.
Candice nudged me with her shoulder. “Thanks,” she said. “But I’d rather not make such a dramatic move just yet. I think living in that house surrounded by all that pink would make me first very sad, and then very nuts. I’ll talk to the attorney and see what he suggests.”
On the way out I stopped by Dutch’s cubicle, but he wasn’t there, so I left him a rather racy Post-it note and we took off.
Candice dropped me at the house I shared with Dutch, and I spent the rest of the afternoon curled up with a good book listening to the gentle rain that was a constant around these parts in the fall.
I was just beginning to consider dinner when the doorbell rang. “Come in,” I called.
I was surprised when Candice came through the door. “Hey,” she said with a rather odd expression on her face.
“Howdy, Cassidy!” I replied, patting the couch for her to come sit down, thinking maybe she needed a shoulder to cry on now that she’d met with the estate attorney.
Candice came to sit next to me and immediately Eggy, my twelve-pound dachshund, jumped into her lap and began to kiss her with enthusiasm. “He’s missed you,” I said.