“We’re not taking any chances. Let’s go.”
Out of habit, I checked to make sure both pockets were still full of crystals, then I touched my moldavite pendant for good luck. It also reassured me that Oliver, the ghost dog who’d attached himself to me, was within hailing distance if I needed him.
Yesterday had been jam-packed with events, and today seemed to be tracking on the same frenetic pace. I smiled to myself and followed Mayes into the store. The thrill of the hunt was upon me. Even though Mayes quartered the store with his gun held high, I glanced around to get my bearings.
The store was a relic of a bygone era, with a pitted concrete floor, wooden display shelves, and sparse inventory. We had a place like Dave’s Hardware back home, hanging on by its toenails only because the nearest superstore was a twenty-minute drive.
“Over here,” a man said.
We followed the sound to the cluttered checkout counter. The voice belonged to a young man. He looked to be in his early twenties with a peach-fuzz face, stringy blond hair, and thick, sun-kissed eyebrows.
“You missed him,” the young man said. “He came in the store, grabbed a shovel, and lit out.”
Mayes introduced me to Trey Becker. “You get him on film?”
“Yeah,” Trey said. “People think we’re behind the times, but I got him cold. I want to press charges. My grandpa said Jonas comes in here and takes things regularly. That’s why I had the cameras installed last month. Come on back, I’ll show you the feed.”
“Did he say anything to you?” Mayes asked.
“Nah. He doesn’t talk to me, not since high school.”
“You know him?”
“He hung out with some of the guys after school a bit, but I never liked him. I couldn’t believe kids would do whatever stupid thing he said. Not me.”
Interesting. As we walked to the backroom, I tried to piece together what it must have been like growing up with an energy vampire. “Did the guys feel any different after being with Jonas?”
“What do ya mean?” Trey asked.
I shrugged. “Tired or sleepy. Even sick with the flu.”
“The guys that hung out with Jonas cut school a lot. Since I didn’t hang out with them, I was relieved not to see any of them.”
“What happened to those kids?” I continued. “They still live around here?”
“Two of ’em died in a car accident senior year. I don’t know what happened to the other guy. And then Haney. He hung out with them some, and now he’s gone too.”
“Sounds like hanging out with Jonas wasn’t good for anyone’s health,” I said.
“What was the other boy’s name?” Mayes asked. “The one you lost track of.”
“Sam Knowles.”
Mayes stopped, contacted Dispatch, and ordered a records search for Sam Knowles. He had an answer in less than thirty seconds. “Knowles died the summer after you graduated, two towns over. The pathology report states the cause of death is unknown.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “I’ve got a good idea what happened to him.”
“You do?” Trey said.
Mayes shot me a quelling look in the narrow hallway. I shrugged and answered Trey’s question. “Obvious to me. Jonas is toxic to his friends. Seems like none of them live very long.”
We continued to the small office. Trey pulled up the video feed, and there was Jonas, looking as confident as you please. He picked up a shovel, turned around, and walked out the door with it.
“We gotta stop this guy,” Trey said. “He’s robbing my grandparents blind. This store is all they’ve got.”
Jonas was a thief and a serial killer. “Did he have a car?”
“Didn’t see one. I thought about chasing after him, but that would leave the store unattended. I can’t do that. My family is counting on me.”
Trey was a good kid. I found it interesting that he hadn’t fallen under Jonas’ spell. Should I touch him and try for a read?
Mayes called in to request that all units respond to the area and gave Jonas’ description. “I’ll send someone by for your statement and for a copy of the video for evidence. We’ll head out and start the search. He couldn’t have gone far on foot.”
As I followed Mayes out the door, I couldn’t help myself. I turned back to Trey. “This may seem like an off-the-wall question, but do you have moments of strong intuition that turn out to be right?”
“Not sure what you mean by that, but I’m a good guesser. And I can judge if people are good or bad.”
“You can? How?”
“Don’t tell anyone I said this, but people glow. My mom doesn’t believe me, but I’m never wrong about that.”
“That’s great. Thanks for telling me.”
After we got in the car, I turned to Mayes. “You know what this means. Trey is an aura reader, and he’s immune to Jonas’ mind control. If you need someone else as a Jonas buffer, he’s your guy.”
He gave a dismissive shrug and powered out of the empty lot. “He’s a kid. He probably doesn’t know how to do what you do.”
“Maybe. But he’s a resource. A hole card, so to speak.”
We turned a corner and something caught my eye. A dark object lay on the grass beside a bush. Mayes stopped, and we took a closer look. A hoodie sweatshirt like the one Jonas had worn in the hardware store.
“Read it,” Mayes said.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I could think of lots of reasons to read the sweatshirt and no reason to stall. So I took the garment from Mayes and stepped away. Whoever had worn this had not done anything horrific, or the negative emotion would’ve jolted through my fingertips. With a deep breath, I opened my senses to the possibilities.
A grainy image appeared in my head, but it wouldn’t sharpen. It felt like I was watching a corrupted video. I had the sense of motion and perhaps a person or two. But the energy, even though it was diluted, definitely felt like Jonas’.
I dampened my senses and turned to the deputy. “Jonas wore this, but I couldn’t tell much else. He hasn’t killed in this sweatshirt.”
Mayes stuffed the item in an evidence bag, labeled it, and stashed it in the SUV. We hit the road again, looking high and low for a furtive white male. “This guy is like a phantom,” Mayes said, twenty minutes later. “We get near him, and he vanishes.”
“A phantom. Good call. He feeds on the energy of others, so his energy signature varies. That might explain why the images I saw just now wouldn’t dial in clearly.”
“The guy’s flesh and blood, but he seems to have another gear we don’t have. I’ve never run across anyone like him.”
A bizarre idea popped in my head. “You think he’s nearby but invisible?”
Mayes snorted. “This isn’t a science fiction tale. We need help figuring this out. Unfortunately, the person whose knowledge I respect the most, my grandfather, is gone. I could contact him through fasting and rituals, but that would take time we don’t have.”
Ah. We were finally in my wheelhouse. “If you have something of his, I can find him on the Other Side.”
“It might come to that.”
We patrolled for another ten minutes, retracing our steps and coming up empty-handed. Mayes cancelled the search, and we grabbed a quick bite of lunch. It annoyed me that he paid for my BLT, but then he made it all right again by claiming it was a business expense.
Our next stop was the rehab center. Mobile units created a blockade in the parking lot, and Mayes flashed his badge several times before we got to speak to the head public health official on site. Dr. Rupert Perrine had the clinical demeanor of a neurosurgeon, the slight build of a dragonfly, and the weight of the world on his thin shoulders. He stood while Mayes explained the situation.
We were not invited to sit down, which I took as a bad sign. The man’s cold eyes and stiff posture told me this guy didn’t want us in his office. He wanted nothing to do with us. I had news for him. The feeling was mutual.
“No entry,” Perrine
said. “This place is on lockdown. No one in and no one out.”
“The sole survivor of an assault by a serial killer is in there,” Mayes said. “We need to talk with her. This is a police matter.”
Perrine gave a pained smile. “The meaning of quarantine is that the area is contained. If you waltz in and out, that defeats the purpose, and you become a disease vector. Under no circumstances are you or anyone else allowed inside.”
“We were already in there, yesterday, with paper masks on,” Mayes explained. “Before you were alerted. We must speak with Ms. Tice. We have been unable to interview her since she revived. Each minute we delay gives the killer time to hurt more people in our community.”
“The answer is still no. Public safety is my concern, and the infectious agent in this building is particularly virulent. According to our records, onset is less than twenty-four hours, possibly less than eight hours.”
“We’re fine,” Mayes said. “We need to get inside to talk with Ms. Tice.”
“No can do.”
I’d had enough of these men posturing. The clock was ticking on the investigation and on my vacation. We needed a compromise. “How about a video chat? Surely someone in there has a mobile phone or a laptop.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Perrine grudgingly admitted after a short silence. “Let me contact my staff inside. Give me a minute to set it up.”
Perrine left us alone in his office, a sterile place with only the basics—an uncluttered desk and a few chairs. How did he work without a laptop?
Mayes gave me a slight head bob of approval. That miniscule acknowledgment warmed me like high praise. I’d much rather interview the woman in person, but barring a presidential order, this admin wouldn’t budge. I respected that they were trying to stop an epidemic, but we had to catch a serial killer.
A brunette wearing khakis and a pale-yellow, button-down blouse and bearing a tablet joined us in a few minutes. She placed the device on Perrine’s empty desk and invited us to sit before it. Mayes pulled out a small audio recording device and set it next to the tablet.
“The video chat function is activated. Our staffer went to Ms. Tice’s room, but it appears she’s in the restroom. We have to wait for her to conclude her business.”
I nodded, but my eyes were on the image. Lizella Tice’s room was as I remembered it, except that another bed was in the room. “Who’s that?” I asked.
“One of the floor nurses came down with the flu last night. They put her in here since Ms. Tice had already been exposed.”
“What’s her status?” I asked.
“Her treatment plan and health status are confidential, but I assure you, she’s getting the best possible medical care.”
“Is the treatment helping her?”
“Her health status is confidential,” the brunette repeated.
I gritted my teeth, wishing I could be in that building, in that room, to experience the situation firsthand. A toilet flushed, and a door opened. Wan and skeletal, Ms. Tice walked with the assistance of an aide. I remembered seeing the aide yesterday, a petite young woman with a youthful bounce in her step. She didn’t appear peppy today.
The image flickered and crisped.
The aide got Ms. Tice settled in bed, and then crossed the room to move the camera. The field of vision shifted from a view of the bathroom to Tice’s bed. I studied her appearance. She seemed no worse today.
Mayes activated his recorder device and leaned in to the camera field. “Ms. Tice, Deputy Chief Mayes. We met yesterday. I am taping our conversation as a matter of record in our police investigation of the death of Haney Haynesworth. Tell me what you remember about Jonas Canyon.”
Her expression hardened. “He seemed like such a nice boy.”
“Go on.”
“He offered me a place to stay,” Ms. Tice said. “I was living on the streets. I should’ve known there was a catch.”
“What do you mean?”
“Things changed as soon as I moved in. He had rules about staying in our rooms. He was the only one allowed inside all the bedrooms, and I was always tired after he visited. Eventually, I had no desire or strength to move. I lay there in that bed day after day. If you hadn’t come along, I’d be dead. Like the others.”
“You met Canyon on the streets?”
“He approached me after a bad thunderstorm. Said he could put a roof over my head, and it wouldn’t cost me a thing.”
“What about the others?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Where’d they come from?”
The image wavered a moment, then sharpened. “I don’t know.”
“Was Haney already at the house when you arrived?”
“Haney was there. He liked to tell me stories and show me his flipbooks.”
“Can you remember anything else about Canyon?”
Ms. Tice sagged against her pillow. Her eyes fluttered. “He seemed like such a nice boy.”
The aide came back into view. “Ms. Tice needs her rest.”
“I have more questions,” Mayes insisted.
“Another time,” the aide said.
The link ended, and we were shown the door.
“Your thoughts?” Mayes said as we drove away.
“A good piece of theater.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Mayes pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned building, shoved the gearshift into park, and turned to me. “Explain.”
“Something is very wrong in that rehab center. Sealing the building may have contained the flu-like outbreak, but more healthy people inside are showing signs of exhaustion.”
He shrugged off my remark. “Easily explained by caregivers working around the clock.”
My fists clenched tightly, the nails digging into my flesh. I forced my fingers open. “I’m not buying it. They may think the place is sealed, but you and I know it isn’t the flu. Jonas must have a way inside. He might even be there now, feeding off all those helpless people. With his talent for mesmerizing, they might not even remember seeing him. We need to get inside.”
“Not an easy task, when the state has jurisdiction. We need compelling proof Jonas is in there.”
“Won’t happen. He’s too good at hiding his tracks.”
We sat there in silence for a moment. “Is there a limit to how much energy a body can absorb?” Mayes asked. “Wouldn’t Jonas fill up at some point?”
“I don’t know. But instead of trying to reach your grandfather in the spirit world, why don’t we ask my dad? He did this dreamwalker job for a long time, and he has an extensive network of contacts among the living.”
“Good idea.”
I called my dad, and he answered on the first ring. “Hey, sunshine. What can I do for you?”
“You’re on speaker phone. Mayes and I have some questions for you. Can an energy vampire go past saturation? And one more thing, the video images I see of this energy vampire in my dreamwalk are fragmented and full of static. What’s that all about?”
Dad drew a long breath. “I don’t know, but Running Bear might. His people stumbled across several energy vampires a few years ago. I can ask him.”
Running Bear was my father’s best friend and a Native American. I exchanged a hopeful glance with Mayes. “That would be great. Would you also ask him how they handled the situation? We seem to stay three steps behind Jonas Canyon. Our energy vampire must have precognition or something.”
“Will do. Can you message me a picture of the man? Odds are it isn’t the same person who caused trouble with his tribe, but you never know.”
“I’ll send the picture right away. How’s the craft fair?”
“Your mother’s in her element. Larissa and I scouted the exhibits and found rocking chairs we like. They’re too large for your porch, but they would look nice in our yard.”
Mayes fiddled with his phone. He appeared to have tuned out now that the call had veered into family matters. “We’ve got room in the campers to car
ry them home if you decide you want them. By the way, if there’s anything Larissa wants, go ahead and buy it for her and I’ll reimburse you.”
“Okay. Send the picture. I’ll forward it to Running Bear and then call him.”
“Thanks.” I ended the call and turned to Mayes. “I need a picture of Jonas Canyon.”
“Just sent it to you.”
My phone chimed, and I forwarded the image to my dad. “Now what? Shall we focus on one of Gail’s cases until we have another Jonas sighting?”
“No cold cases, not when we have two active investigations.” Mayes shifted gears and off we went, up the mountain. “We have another location to visit related to Haney’s case. His father’s place was listed in the deed book. No one lives there now, though the property is currently owned by a Janet Smith. We have her permission to look around. After that, we should talk with White Feather’s family.”
I settled in my seat, trying to release the tension in my shoulder without appearing too twitchy. “I keep forgetting we have two murders because we’re spending all of our time searching for Jonas.”
“One suspect, two victims. We know by virtue of your dreamwalks that Jonas killed both Haney and White Feather. We still need proof of his guilt for the legal system. The only physical evidence we have against Jonas is that video of him stealing a shovel. Theft doesn’t carry the same penalty as a double homicide. And kidnapping the sheriff, of course. He has to be held accountable for his actions.”
The drift of his thoughts concerned me. My shoulders lifted almost to my ears. Was he going to screw my guardian angel? “Everyone agreed Jonas was going to Rose for justice’s sake. He won’t go through our criminal justice system.”
“I’d like to do both.”
“Rose isn’t good at sharing.”
“Noted.”
The ride got bumpy once he turned off the pavement. I braced myself. “Is this a road?”
“Used to be. Poachers come this way every now and again.”
We bumped along until a tree blocked our progress. He parked the car and opened the door. “We walk the rest of the way.”
The grass looked to be knee-high. “I wish I had tick repellent.”
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