by R. L. King
“Dr. Stone, you know I can’t—”
“I know you can’t officially. But you’ve already talked to several law-enforcement people I’ve worked with before, and you know my methods are odd but also successful when others failed. I can help you, Agent Turman—but only if you keep me involved. I want to see this man stopped too.”
Turman sighed. “You know I could have you arrested for obstructing an investigation, or find a way to legally force you to reveal this information.”
“I know you can try. But I’ve got a lot of money and very good lawyers, and I suspect things would draw out far longer than you prefer. Best to have me on your side, Agent. I can be a valuable resource…” He let that trail off, but the end of the sentence—but you don’t want me working against you—hung in the air. The question was whether Glenn Turman was the typical by-the-book sort who would push back against Stone’s gentle threat, or a more enlightened type who was more interested in solving the crime than following the rules to the letter.
“I’ll…consider it,” he said at last. “That’s all I can promise you. Take it or leave it.”
Stone watched his aura again, and smiled slightly. He had him. Turman’s curiosity and drive to see the case solved was already overcoming his trepidation. Score one for good references, Stone supposed.
“All right. Fair enough. There’ve been nine—possibly ten—cases in total that we can find, including Tyler, clustered in specific areas. All boys between the ages of eleven and fifteen, all disappeared without a trace and reappeared unharmed two to three days later with no memory of where they’d been. Some of them were recent, and the others were five years ago. And every last one of them—at least that we’ve been able to find so far—were conceived at fertility clinics.” He explained what he, Jason, and Gina had discovered, leaving out his trip to Gary and anything that might connect the kidnappings with anything supernatural—including his guess at the kidnapper’s motivations.
Turman scribbled rapidly as Stone spoke. When he finished, he looked up in frank amazement. “We already found the other three with similar circumstances recently, but not the ones five years ago. If you’re right, Dr. Stone, this is…I don’t know what to say, except that you should have passed this information along to the authorities as soon as you discovered it. This is no place for amateurs.”
“We would have. We wanted to be a bit more certain we weren’t grasping at straws before we wasted the FBI’s time on it. And Jason’s not an amateur.”
“No, but he’s also no longer connected with the case. Mrs. Ellerman isn’t paying him anymore.”
“That’s true—but as I mentioned to others before, I’m the sort of person who doesn’t give up easily. Once you point me at an interesting problem, it’s difficult to pull me away. And I’m doing this on my own time. As long as we don’t interfere with any investigations, is there any reason we can’t continue?” The answer didn’t matter, of course: Stone had no intention of backing away from this now.
“That depends on how you choose to pursue it. Anything you do could potentially interfere with us, because you don’t know what avenues we’re investigating. Even poking around computer records could tip the man off that someone’s on to him. Do you have any reason to believe the same person is involved in all these kidnappings?”
“No, not yet. We only recently discovered the bit about the fertility clinics. Our next step is to take the sketch of the man I saw in my dream and see if we can find any connection between him and any of the clinics—or between the clinics themselves.”
Turman looked skeptical. “We don’t tend to put much stock in things people see in dreams, Dr. Stone. I can’t put a lot of resources into chasing down a psychic vision.” He held up a hand as Stone started to reply. “I said not a lot—but I didn’t say none. We’re already checking into the man in the sketch, and I will put my people on tracking down any connections between the fertility clinics.” He gave a dry smile. “I suspect we can probably turn up more than your computer whiz.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, but I’m certainly glad to have more eyes on the situation.” Stone continued ambling down the gravel path, pausing to admire a wild clump of purple flowers that had begun encroaching onto it. “Have you spoken with Jason yet? Is he your next stop, or did you send another agent to talk to him while you’re here chatting with me, so you can compare our stories later?”
Turman’s smile widened a little, but it was still mostly humorless. “I think you and I both know, Dr. Stone, that you’re the one we need to talk to. Mr. Thayer might have been in charge of the initial investigation, but everything I’ve learned about you tells me you’re the driving force now.”
Stone couldn’t deny it, so he didn’t bother. “Right, then. Is that all you need from me, or is there anything else?”
“I don’t think so right now. But please be available. If I have more questions, I’ll contact you.”
“Of course. I’m happy to be of any assistance I can.” As long as I don’t have to tell you about magic, anyway. “I hope you’ll remember my request, though.”
“As I said, I’ll consider it. Have a good one, Dr. Stone.”
Stone followed Turman back to the front yard and watched as he exited through the open gate and got back in his car. He let his breath out as the man drove off, finally allowing himself to let go of the tension he’d been carrying through the entire conversation.
This had the potential to cause problems. He didn’t mind, of course, that the FBI was on the case too. That was to be expected, and he already knew it. He didn’t even mind helping them if he could do it without revealing too much. That wasn’t the issue.
The issue was that people in high places were starting to take notice of him and his reputation for being on the scene during dangerous situations with high body counts. He’d wondered before if there were aspects of law enforcement, probably much higher up than he’d ever dealt with, who knew about the existence of magic. Was Turman dropping subtle hints that he might be in on the game, or was Stone indulging paranoia? It was a bit like a game of Chicken—who would flinch first and reveal what they knew?
Right now, as things stood at the moment, Stone couldn’t afford to be the loser in that game.
23
Another two days passed, and Stone heard no more from Glenn Turman. He didn’t know if that was because the man had nothing to tell him, or if he’d decided to ignore Stone’s request for further information. Either way, he put the agent out of his mind.
He’d called Jason as soon as Turman left his home, filling him in on the conversation and what he’d revealed. “I hope you don’t mind that I let a few of our cats out of the bag. He didn’t seem inclined to leave empty-handed, so I told him what I thought I could safely reveal.”
“Nah, it’s all good. I’m surprised he hasn’t come by here yet. We’re all on the same side, so I’m happy to help them out.”
Today, he was spending more time working on his portal, putting the finishing touches on the massive circle and organizing his other components so he’d be ready to go when his contact got back to him on the last one. There wasn’t much else he could do with the Ellerman investigation until they had more data, and the portal work was keeping his mind off the fact that the Occult Symposium started on Friday. He wondered how Verity had been doing with her efforts to drum up support for her cause, and whether she’d been successful in setting up some kind of meeting at the Symposium. He still didn’t have any intention of crashing her party by showing up, but he did wish he could be a fly on the wall during that meeting. Even though he disagreed with her, he was still proud she’d taken this much initiative.
Jason called him back on Wednesday morning. “Hey, Al, got a minute?”
“I have as long as you like. I need a break from this bloody portal anyway. Did Turman ever contact you?”
“Nope. But Gina got something back you might find interesting.”
Stone closed the book he’d
been idly scanning and focused his full attention on Jason. “Did she track down Summer?”
“Yeah, sort of. You were right—he was connected with all three of the fertility clinics. The one here, the one in Chicago, and the one in Miami.”
“Indeed?”
“Yeah, but it’s not that simple. We still don’t know who he is, because he used different names at each one. He was Timothy Summer here, Ernest Novak in Chicago, and David Kaiser in Miami.”
“You’re sure it’s the same person?”
“Almost certain. Gina traced all three of them—their backgrounds stand up to basic checks, but when you go deeper you end up with smoke. She’s sure they didn’t attend the medical schools they claim to have diplomas from.”
“Did she find photos?”
“Just crappy little ones from websites that have been dead for years, or newspaper clippings. It’s the same guy, with a few superficial changes like glasses or facial hair—and Mrs. Ellerman’s right, he doesn’t look like that sketch of yours. If it’s the same guy, he’s using a really good disguise.”
“Hmm.” Stone pondered. “I wonder if he isn’t working with someone else. You know, a mundane physician working with a magical practitioner. Perhaps they’re combining mundane medical science with alchemy.”
“Maybe…” Jason didn’t sound convinced. “But why? Why would a mundane doctor want to risk his reputation to help some mage artificially impregnate women with his own sperm and try to create baby mages? I could see why the mage himself would want to do it if he was the doctor too, but if it’s two different people…”
“I don’t know, Jason. Damned good question, and one I don’t think we’re going to get to the bottom of until we’ve tracked down either of these two men. I don’t suppose Gina has any line on where this Dr. Whoever might be now?”
“Not a clue. After New Beginnings and the other clinics folded, he disappeared off the face of the earth. So he’s either operating somewhere else under another assumed name, or else he settled down somewhere and retired, I guess. We’ll keep looking, though.”
“As will I. Thanks, Jason.”
“I’ve got one other thing, too.” Jason’s voice changed, sounding more sober.
“Yes?”
“I asked Gina to flag any news stories about other boys disappearing, just in case something else turned up.”
“And you think something did?” A chill ran up Stone’s neck.
“Maybe. Kid named Caden Boyce. Twelve years old. Disappeared without a trace a week ago from a little town twenty miles from Miami.”
“A week ago? And he hasn’t turned up yet?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying maybe. He fits the profile: recent puberty, blond…”
“Connection to the fertility clinic?”
“Gina’s still checking that. But all the other ones turned up again after two or three days. This one’s been gone a week, with no sign of him. Might just be a coincidence. Or a runaway, but it’s pretty hard for a kid that age to disappear on his own without somebody noticing.”
Stone clenched his fist on his desk. “Damn. So if this one does end up being another of our little cohort, that means our man is still active, despite knowing we’re at least partially on to him. That means he’s got to be confident he can continue to operate without being caught. And most concerning, it means this time he might have found what he’s looking for, which means this boy might be in more danger than the others.”
“Yeah. I had all those same thoughts. I’ll keep on it and let you know what else we find out, if anything. You gonna call your FBI guy?”
“No. Now that he knows what to look for, I’m quite sure he’s already got this information—probably before we did. I’m a little annoyed that he didn’t call us, but I suppose it’s not reasonable to expect him to.”
“No, not really. Can’t expect a hotshot FBI agent to share his info with some random psychic. Guess we’re still on our own.”
“Nothing new there. Call me with anything else you find.”
“Will do. Gotta go now, though—I have an appointment in an hour to go take another look at that place in the Santa Cruz mountains. Amber’s pretty crazy about it, so if we can swing it, it looks like we might be makin’ an offer.”
“That’s brilliant. Best of luck. If you need a loan—”
“No way. Your wedding gift’s already going to be part of our down payment, but aside from that we’re gonna handle this one all on our own. Talk to you later.”
Stone tossed the phone on the table in frustration and paced around the perimeter of the circle. Damn—so much for the hope that the kidnapper would give up for a while because he might be under scrutiny. They had no idea if this boy was another of his victims, but Stone would bet a lot of money he was. Everything was right: the gender, the hair color, the age, and the location. He was certain Jason would get back to him before the end of the day with news that Gina had turned up a connection to the Miami fertility clinic.
But that still didn’t get them anywhere. Despite his clear picture of their target from Roy Darner’s mind, it seemed as if the man didn’t exist. He must either be a master of disguise or else he made liberal use of accomplices. They knew he had at least one, since someone had picked him up from the motel in Texas, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have more. This project had obviously been going on for a long time—at least nineteen years—so it was clearly important to the people running it. There could be a whole network of them, magical and mundane, working together. And from the sound of things, they had some significant resources backing them up.
Idly, Stone sat down at his desk and began doodling on a notepad as he let his thoughts wander. He considered the magical scientist types he was personally acquainted with, but one by one rejected them. There were certainly mages out there who were willing to do unethical things in the name of gaining knowledge, but none of those he knew fit the profile.
Unless…
He gripped the pen so hard he nearly broke it.
He did know—or at least know of—a group of mages for whom something like this would be right up their alley.
The Ordo Purpuratus’s main goals were to increase the power and influence of magic in the world, and to learn as much about it as possible, even if it meant following dangerous paths. If they thought they could produce magical children, then grab them and twist them to their cause, would they do it?
Of course they would.
But even with this revelation, Stone’s gut told him the Ordo wasn’t behind this one. For one thing, there’d been no evidence that they’d resurfaced until recently, and this project had been going on for nearly two decades. Maybe longer.
More importantly, everything he knew about the Ordo suggested they wouldn’t be gracious enough to let their failed experiments go. They had no regard for mundanes, and most of them were black mages, so ashing the failures would be the easiest way to dispose of them. That way, there was no risk one of their memory-altering techniques might fail.
There was something he was missing. He was sure of it. But he knew from past experience that sitting here and trying to force his brain to land on it was the fastest way to drive it off. Best to try occupying his mind with something else, allowing it to work on the problem in a background process.
He wished he could finish the damned portal. The circle was complete, the rest of the components were neatly stored in his warded vault, and all that remained was to get his hands on that final piece.
Damn Madame Huan anyway! If she didn’t want to talk to him about what was going on with the rogue extradimensional rifts, all she had to do was say so. It wasn’t as if he could force her to tell him anything, and at least that way he’d still have access to her to discuss other things—like this situation. Before he met Stefan Kolinsky, she’d been his main confidante regarding such difficult problems, and now both of them were out of communication. Eddie and Ward wouldn’t be much help with this, unfortunately, and he couldn�
��t keep pulling them away from their duties at Caventhorne and the library every time he had some puzzle he couldn’t solve on his own. He thought about calling Ian, to see if he and Gabriel had any insights, but didn’t. Not yet. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t feel like dragging them into this quite yet. Not until whatever he’d been trying to work through resolved itself, anyway.
His other obvious sounding board was likewise out of his reach, and that wasn’t sitting well either. He thought once again about what Amber had said the night they’d talked. He’d been annoyed at her at first, but that hadn’t lasted long. She was right: he did need someone to tell things to him straight. Jason wouldn’t, because he was Verity’s brother. Nobody else would, because frankly he intimidated most people when it came to discussing his personal issues. His mundane friends knew not to bring up that kind of thing if they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his cutting words.
When he was being honest with himself—and he didn’t want to be honest about this—most of his issues with Verity had begun when the two of them had started seeing each other. He loved her, there was no doubt in his mind about that—and he didn’t doubt she loved him. But he’d loved Imogen Desmond, too—more than almost anything else in the world. He still did, but that didn’t change the fact that their romantic relationship had been doomed to failure nearly from the start. Verity had had a rough time of it as a teenager, and even though in some ways she was more mature than her years, in others she was younger. Was he doing her any favors by giving her too much space to make up her mind? Was he ignoring enormous red flags because he didn’t want to see them?
He growled, shoving papers aside with a sweeping gesture and snapping up the phone again. He didn’t have time to waste wallowing in these kinds of mental meanderings. He had to do something or his brain would fly apart.
He didn’t worry that Oyunaa in Mongolia would be asleep, even though it was the middle of the night where she was. The woman had been a night owl ever since he’d met her, and this was her primary working time. He listened to the line ring several times, returning to his aimless doodles on the pad.
