by R. L. King
According to the article, Ty had been returned to the Bay Area, escorted by law enforcement officers. Once he arrived, he’d been questioned and returned to the custody of his mother, just as Jason had said. Stone clicked a video from a press conference held that morning, where Sylvia and Marshall Ellerman—her with tears running down her cheeks and him with that stoic expression men affect when they want to cry too—both thanked the authorities for everything they did to locate their son.
“Well, Raider,” he said, closing the computer and finishing his coffee. “Looks like all’s well that ends well, at least according to the mundane authorities. But we don’t plan to leave it there, do we?”
Raider didn’t answer, except to try to stick his face in Stone’s coffee cup.
Jason invited Stone over for dinner two days later. “Got some new information—nothing very helpful, but I never know what might trigger that crazy cat brain of yours.”
Stone was happy to go, not only for the meal but because he’d come up with nothing on his own. He’d tried working on the portal, but a couple times caught himself messing up an equation in the formula—something he couldn’t afford to do. He’d reluctantly put it aside and returned to his research paper, which wasn’t nearly as interesting as either the portal or the Tyler Ellerman case.
“Okay,” he said as he helped set the table. “What have you got?”
“Blum got me copies of a few more of the reports, unofficially.” Jason indicated a folder on the breakfast bar, next to a scattered stack of papers and a closed laptop. “You can take a look if you want, but it won’t get you much.”
“Suppose you summarize.” Stone opened the folder and glanced at the top sheet; as he did, he happened to notice the other nearby papers. They were real-estate flyers. “Planning to move again already? Sorry—none of my business, but I couldn’t help noticing.”
“Oh. Yeah, maybe.” Amber came out with a steaming dish, and he took it from her and settled it in the middle of the table. “Not serious yet, but the agency’s doing pretty well, and Amber’s got some money put away too. We’d really like to have a place of our own, even if it’s small. Amber wants to live somewhere a little less urban.”
“Ah. I can certainly understand that. This area must be a bit of an adjustment when you’re used to Lake Tahoe.”
“It is,” Amber agreed. “Like Jason said, though, we’re not seriously looking yet. Prices are crazy around here, unfortunately. But we’re keeping our eyes open if anything turns up. We’re both pretty handy, so a fixer-upper would work great for us. It would give us a project to work on together.”
Stone nodded. “If you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll mention it to a few colleagues. You’d be surprised at what some of them have access to.”
“Thanks.” Jason indicated the folder. “You didn’t come over here to discuss our house hunting, though. Let’s talk about Ty.”
Stone sniffed appreciatively as Amber placed spicy baked chicken next to the pasta salad. “Yes, let’s. It will keep me from stuffing myself like a pig.”
“Stuff away,” Amber said. “We made plenty.”
“Okay.” Jason opened the folder and paused to load his plate. “So another weird thing I found out is that they took the clothes and shoes Ty turned up in and ran them through the full analysis, looking for any trace evidence that might indicate where he’d been held.”
“Yes, and—?”
“And they found nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Not a damn thing. He was wearing the same clothes he wore when he was kidnapped, which is weird enough.”
“Why?”
Amber chuckled. “Obviously you haven’t had much experience with thirteen-year-old boys recently. They can get stinky pretty fast, especially if they don’t change their clothes in a week.”
“I attended an all-boys’ boarding school,” Stone said with a raised eyebrow. “Believe me, I’m well acquainted with Aroma de Garçon.”
“Yeah, well, these clothes didn’t have aroma de anything,” Jason said.
“You mean they were washed? I suppose identifying the detergent wouldn’t help much.”
“I mean they were like new. No trace. No stray hairs except for a couple of Ty’s, nothing in the pants pockets, no dirt smudges or stains…there wasn’t even any trace on the bottoms of his shoes, except a little bit consistent with the area behind the convenience store.”
“It was like he was dropped off there by a helicopter or something,” Amber said. “I wish they’d let me take a sniff, but of course that’s not happening.”
Stone sighed. Sometimes it was frustrating how difficult it was to be helpful, because people like him and Amber couldn’t reveal their unique abilities.
“Any idea what might have happened?” Jason asked.
“Oh, almost certainly.” He took another bite of pasta and washed it down with a sip of wine. “I could do it myself with a bit of effort.”
“Do what?”
“Use a spell to eliminate any traceable features from an object or an article of clothing. I often use a similar one to neutralize any blood I might leave lying around, but it wouldn’t be that difficult to modify the spell to extend to hair, dirt, sweat—whatever you like, really.”
Jason frowned. “So you think maybe either Ty was wearing the same clothes the whole time the guy was holding him, or else he used the spell on his original outfit and had him put it on again before letting him go?”
“I’m inclined to believe the latter, just in case the spell wasn’t foolproof. It’s a lot easier to use it on something that hasn’t been marinating in teenage funk for several days.”
“That’s a pretty good trick,” Amber said. “And the fact that he did it means he really doesn’t want anyone to know where he’s been.”
“If he took the kid through a portal, though, it would be tough to tell anyway,” Jason mused. “I mean, yeah, the mundane cops have all kinds of information about what kind of dirt and plants and whatever are in different areas, but they have no idea the kid might have been held a long way away. Even if they found any trace, if the kid was in one city but started out in another one, they wouldn’t know where to start.” He looked up at Stone. “So we’re sure he took Ty through that first portal in Sunnyvale, but we have no way to know where he went, or whether he used another portal afterward, right?”
“Correct. As far as we know, he could have popped through several of them, or gone straight to his final destination.”
“Is there a portal near Dallas?”
“Not too far—it’s on the outskirts, a few miles out.”
“Do you know anything about it?”
“No—never been there. I could go, though, and question whoever looks after it. It’s unlikely they’ll remember anything since the kidnapper was careful, but you never know.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Amber said. “It’s not that hard to do, right?”
“Oh, no—I can pop through and back in less than an hour. I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Al,” Jason said. He tossed his fork down. “This is really keeping me up at night. I’m afraid the guy might do it again, and I’m still trying to come up with a reason why he let Ty go at all. If he was looking for something, did he find it? Or if he didn’t find it, why didn’t he just kill Ty? It would be safer that way—he’d never be found, and there’s no chance he might give something away. He could just ash him, right?”
“Possibly.”
“What do you mean, possibly?”
“I mean, he might not be a black mage.”
“What do you mean—he’s got to be a black mage,” Amber said. “White mages don’t kidnap kids, do they?”
Stone sighed. “You know, I’m going to set up a Magical Theory 101 course and insist you two attend it.”
“Oh, right,” Amber said. “I forgot about that—white mages aren’t necessarily good, and black ones aren’t necessarily evil. You know, you guys sho
uld change your terminology.”
“Yes, we’ll get right on that. As soon as we set up a central governing council, I’ll propose a Semantics Committee.”
She glared at him, but more in exasperation than anger. “Anyway, show him the rest, Jase.”
“There’s more?” Stone asked. “I hope it’s better than the clothing bit.”
“They did an interview with Ty after he got back to the Bay Area,” Jason said, getting up to retrieve the laptop. “I didn’t think Blum could get access to the video yet—that’s hard to do without arousing suspicion—but somehow he managed. I’m really glad he’s on our side. This is a hell of a lot easier with somebody who knows the whole story.” He opened it and cued up a video, then pushed it toward Stone.
It was better than Stone could have hoped for. He knew the chances of actually talking to the boy in person were nonexistent, but he’d been afraid he’d have to settle for a transcript. Without the auric component, the ability to observe subtle facial or body-language cues would be a distant second in usefulness, but still much better than simple dry text. “I assume you’ve already seen this.”
“Yeah, we watched it a few times. Before I say anything, I want to see what you think.”
Stone pushed his plate aside, refilled his wineglass, and hit Play.
The video hadn’t been shot in a stark police interrogation room. Instead, Ty Ellerman sat in a comfortable-looking chair in what appeared to be some kind of lounge. The camera was focused on him; whoever was doing the questioning didn’t appear in the scene. In the lower right corner was a timestamp, indicating the video had been shot in the middle of the previous day.
Stone paused the video and examined the boy before continuing. He was on the small side, average-looking, with tousled blond hair, a turned-up nose, and a light dusting of freckles across his cheeks. He wore a Star Wars T-shirt, baggy shorts, and skateboard shoes with no socks. His expression suggested he was more nervous than he was trying to admit. Stone hit Play again.
“Okay, Ty,” said the interviewer, a woman with a kind voice. “We’re just going to ask you a few questions, okay? If you want anything or you feel uncomfortable, just let me know and we’ll stop. Is that okay?”
Ty nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good. Okay. Let’s start by having you tell us about the last thing you remember when you were at the school with your friends.”
“Okay.” Ty swallowed hard, and his gaze cut away from the camera. He stared at his hands in his lap. “I…uh…I was at McDonald School, playing some hoops with my friends, Dylan and Paul.” His voice still had the higher pitch of a child, but also the characteristic cracking that indicated it had begun to settle into its deeper, adult tones.
“What time was that?”
“I dunno…around four, I guess.”
“And you left the school to head home around that time?”
“Yeah. Mom wants me home by five.” He looked away again.
“But you didn’t want to go home that early.”
“Nah. We were havin’ fun, so I wanted to stay. Mom gets pissed if I get home late, though.”
“What were you planning to do on the way home?”
“Stop at the Quick Stop.”
“That’s the convenience store?”
“Yeah, it’s a couple blocks from my house. I was gonna get a Red Bull and a candy bar.”
“But you don’t remember stopping there, right?”
Ty looked troubled. “No.”
“What’s the last thing you remember? Anything about the scenery around you? Any strange cars you happened to notice?”
He looked at his hands again. “I…remember seeing the Quick Stop off in the distance.” Now he glanced at something off camera, off to the right side. “I really wanted that Red Bull. Sorry, Mom. She doesn’t like it when I get energy drinks,” he added to the interviewer.
“It’s okay, honey,” a disembodied voice said. Stone recognized it as Sylvia Ellerman’s. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” the interviewer said. “Ty, what I’d like you to do is think hard, and try to tell me the very last thing you remember. You said you saw the Quick Stop. Anything after that?”
He looked like he was indeed thinking hard, trying to pin down something that kept drifting away. “No, I—can’t. It’s like everything gets fuzzy after that.”
“Fuzzy? You mean things went gray? Like you were passing out?”
“No, not like that.” His eyes narrowed. “No, it was more like—Mom, remember that time when I messed up my knee playing soccer and I had to have surgery?”
From off camera came an unintelligible reply.
“It was like that. You know how they have you count backwards from a hundred when they put you out, and you think it’s not gonna happen, and the next thing you know you’re wakin’ up and it’s all over?”
There was a brief pause. “All right,” the interviewer said. “And what’s the next thing you remember? Try hard, Ty. You’ll really be helping us out if you can give us anything, no matter how small you think it might be.”
Ty’s face scrunched and his eyes closed. “I…can’t,” he finally said, clearly unhappy about it. “The next thing I remember was bein’ behind that 7-Eleven. In Texas.”
“So, it’s just like you woke up there? That’s what you said before.”
“Yeah, but…” Again he looked like he was trying to pin down an idea, but not having much success. “It’s not like I woke up. It’s more like…you know when you turn on a video game and you’re just…there? Like, wherever you left your character before? That’s what it was like. One second I was walkin’ home from the park, and the next one I was in Texas.” He glanced at the camera, then past it. “They said I was gone for more than a week. I don’t know how that can be.”
“And you didn’t feel strange in any way? No pain, no weakness, no…wooziness?”
“You mean like maybe they drugged me?” He shook his head. “No, nothin’ like that. The doctors checked me over and even did a blood test. When I woke up from surgery I felt all weird and queasy, and it was a while before it went away. This time wasn’t like that. I felt fine.” Again, he looked past the camera. “Do you guys know what happened? You’re gonna catch whoever did it, right?”
Stone didn’t miss the very slight quiver in Ty’s voice, and thought he understood the reason for it: somebody he didn’t know had snatched him without a trace and taken him halfway across the country, and the adults around him didn’t have a clue as to why. He’d be a fool if he wasn’t at least somewhat concerned it might happen again.
“That’s why we’re asking you all these questions,” the interviewer said kindly. “The more you can tell us, the easier it will be to catch the person who did this.”
“I wish I could tell you more. Seriously, I do.” Ty looked at his lap again, then looked up, brightening. “Hey, maybe you guys can hypnotize me! I saw them do that on a TV show one time, and it helped the guy remember a lot of stuff.”
The interviewer chuckled. “Maybe we can. I think that’s all for now, though, Ty. You’ve been very helpful.”
The video ended.
Stone sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Well, that was pointless.”
“Didn’t get anything, huh?” Jason asked.
“Not bloody much. Whoever the kidnapper is, he’s good. He’s either perfected a spell or some kind of alchemical mixture that blanked the boy’s memory.” He closed the laptop. “That wasn’t a half-bad idea he had. Did they try hypnotizing him?”
“They did, actually. But they didn’t get anything new. According to Blum, it was the same deal: he just doesn’t remember anything. It’s like everything from the time he was grabbed until he showed up behind that 7-Eleven is a black box.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Stone got up and walked to the window, where he stared out into the night. “You said you wanted to hear my thoughts before you told me yours. Did you get anything I missed?”
&nbs
p; “No. I was hoping you’d come up with something. I sure didn’t see any sign he was lying or dodging any of the questions.”
“Nor did I.”
“And unfortunately,” Amber added, “I’m not much use for any new insights unless I can see the kid in person.”
“So what’s your next step?” Stone asked Jason.
“Who knows? I can’t spend much time on this right now—I’ve got three active, paying cases I need to work on. I’m planning to check with the mundane network and see if they know anybody who might help us, but aside from that, I’ve got Gina checking stuff out. The problem is, I couldn’t give her a lot of guidance on what to check out, so she’s kind of flying blind. Best I could tell her is to see if she can identify any other similar kidnappings, where the vic disappeared and then turned up later somewhere else.”
Stone nodded. “Good. In the meantime, I’ll pop over to Texas and see if the portal keeper there remembers anything. I suppose it’s too much to ask that they’ve got surveillance cameras, but I’m hoping since the kidnapper didn’t expect anyone to know he was traveling that fast, perhaps he might let his guard slip a bit. Anyway, it’s getting late. I should get going and let you two have some time alone. Do you need help with the dishes or anything?”
“No, we’re good. We—” Jason paused as his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, and his eyes widened when he saw the display.
Stone didn’t miss the flare in his aura. “Something wrong?”
“No. It’s—” He hesitated a moment, then tapped the button. “Hey, V. How’s it going?”
Stone tensed, exchanging uncomfortable glances with both Jason and Amber, and then pointed toward the door in a clear indication of I’m going now.
Jason held up a finger. “Yeah. It’s good to hear from you. Everything okay?” He listened a moment, then said, “That’s good. Hey—Al’s here right now, having dinner with us. Did you want to say hi?”
