More Than an Echo (Echo Branson Series)

by Silva, Linda Kay

  Danica’s father had given her a gun shortly after I bashed Todd’s head in. She didn’t carry it until our sophomore year in college when there was a rape near campus. Mills College is one of the safer colleges on the West Coast, but it sits in a questionable neighborhood in Oakland. I wasn’t surprised that she still carried it.

  “So, what are we doing here this beautiful evening?”

  “Looking for a woman named Shirley and her three pets.” We got out and started down the street. The Tenderloin reminded me a lot of the Bayou; creepy, dark alleyways and unfamiliar creatures, some of which were deadly. It was easy to get lost, there were freaky sounds you never wanted to hear again, and you had to watch where you walked.

  When we got to Geary, we heard Shirley before we saw her. Apparently, she was in one of her “in” moments of insanity because she was ranting at nothing.

  “There she is.”

  Danica stopped. “That’s your source?”

  “Hush. She’s…she’s one of us.”

  Danica stared over at Shirley, disbelieving. “Oh God, is that…”

  “That’s what you and Britt saved me from becoming, yes.”

  As we approached Shirley, I could hear her ranting something about Catholic priests and George W. with a little Rush Limbaugh thrown in for good measure. “No gun,” I said between gritted teeth.

  “Can I mace her?”

  I didn’t bother to respond. When Cotton spotted me, he sat up and wagged his tail. When Shirley saw the dog’s reaction to me, she stopped ranting and cocked her head at me. She was no longer blocking and I lowered my shields to feel every psychotic emotion she was experiencing. She did not quite remember who I was and was perplexed as to her animal’s response to me.

  “Shirley, it’s me, Echo. Remember?”

  She squinted at me with her head still cocked to one side and then she turned to Cotton. “I don’t, but my dog does. Seems to like you, too, which is odd. He don’t like many people. You from the government?” She lowered her voice. “CIA maybe?”

  “Why CIA?” Danica blurted. I sent her another shut up glare.

  “The CIA has been looking for me for a long time. If you’re from the government, you can just move along because I’m not going with anyone ever again unless I’m in a goddamned pine box, you hear me? Well? Are you or aren’t you?”

  “No, Shirley, we’re not.”

  Shirley looked over at Danica. “You afraid?”

  Danica threw her shoulders back. “Of you? No.”

  Shirley tossed her hair back and laughed like a lunatic. “Don’t imagine you’d say that if you weren’t packin’ heat.”

  Danica looked over at me and I shook my head.

  “Shirley, do you remember talking to me the other day about missing homeless guys?”

  She scratched her head. “I don’t think I know you.”

  “Come on, Clark, we’re wasting our time here. She’s got nothing.” Danica turned back to the car, but I stayed.

  “Check your sock, Shirley. I gave you a card and you put it in your sock. That sock,” I said, pointing.

  “Really?” Shirley reached into her pocket and came up empty. “Who sent you? The Secret Service? Oh yes, they’re always looking under the wrong rocks. Do you know how many times I tried to warn them about nine-eleven? Then, when it happened, then they were finally interested, but it was too late.” She chuckled. “They been looking for me ever since.”

  Danica was suddenly back at my side. “You didn’t say she was clairvoyant,” she whispered.

  “Hush,” I said.

  “We’re all in danger, you know? They’re not just after me. They know we exist. They just can’t get their hands on any of us. But they keep tryin’. Once they get a seeker, we’re all fucked. Fucked I say!”

  “Come on, Clark. Let’s get out of here. Whatever it is you wanted you’re not going to find it here.”

  Sighing sadly, I had to agree. The lucid woman I met had been replaced by this ranting woman before us. “Damn.”

  Danica tugged my arm and Cotton responded by baring his teeth and letting out a low, threatening growl.

  Shirley quieted Cotton. “He’s taken a fancy to you, Echo.” When she said my name, everything about her seemed to change. “Oh. Wait. We did speak, didn’t we?”

  I nodded. “About the missing guys from the street.”

  Closing her eyes, she breathed in slowly. “Yes. Yes, we did. As you can see, I’m not quite sane at the moment. I apologize.” Her eyes transformed back to their earlier crazed stage. “Come tomorrow…I must have something to say to you…didn’t I…don’t you live in a bakery?”

  I nodded, feeling her revert back to her insane self.

  “I have something…did you know the CIA uses bakers all the time? It’s the hours they keep…people don’t get suspicious. You’re suspicious, aren’t you? Good. You should be. It’s safer that way. Go on. Come back in the daylight when it’s safer.”

  “Come on, Clark.”

  Danica was right. “Okay, Shirley. I’ll come back later.”

  As we walked away, Danica let out a low whistle. “Wowee, Clark, you sure know how to pick ’em. All that crazy talk about the CIA.”

  “It’s serious stuff, Danica. If they knew…I mean, what if they got their hands on me? What if they threatened to kill everyone I loved if I didn’t point out the other supers I knew? What do you think I would do?”

  Danica looked hard into my eyes. “You? You’d take your chances and throw me to the dogs.”

  “Danica!”

  “Am I wrong? I’m not saying you don’t love me, because I know you do. I also know that you are part of something larger than your own life, or mine for that matter. You’d have to protect those who protected you.”

  “You protected me!”

  “Once, Clark. Look, it’s no big deal. It wouldn’t happen that way, would it? I mean, they wouldn’t threaten the people you love, would they?”

  I said nothing.

  “Oh shit.”

  “I know you saw a loon back there, but something scares her. I feel it and it’s very real.”

  “Oh puhlease, are you actually saying you think the fucking CIA is after her?”

  “I don’t know. I just know that her fear is real; that doesn’t mean that the threat is.”

  “Fine. Where are we off to now? The soup kitchen? Goodwill?”

  “Close enough. No, we’re going to where Bob used to hang out and see if anyone knows anything.”

  “You think anyone will talk to you?”

  I shrugged. “Good thing they don’t have to.”

  No one had seen Bob or heard from him. Two more homeless had gone missing from the Tenderloin. It dawned on me that maybe these disappearances weren’t exclusive to the city. Maybe there were others missing from Oakland or Berkeley.

  I needed to turn something in, so I decided I would run with this story first and hope that it didn’t lead to a dead end. I spent all night typing up the story and coming from an angle that might pique Wes’s curiosity. In the end, I realized I was turning in a story that had next to no real meat and when I woke up the next morning, it was time to face the music. I was going to lose my car, my job and a lot of points with my best friend. I wasn’t looking forward to this day. Maybe if I just stayed in bed all day, no one would notice.

  Two seconds later, someone noticed. I let the machine get it.

  “Branson? Looks like your time is up. Bring that pink slip and the little red car by the office before noon, will you? And no hard feelings. Someone somewhere will hire you.”

  I groaned. Then I just lay there feeling sorry for myself for a couple of minutes before finally forcing myself out of bed.

  After showering and prettying myself up, I finally made it out of the house by fifteen after ten. Most homeless don’t start moving around until well after nine, and I was determined to get to Shirley before she went back around the bend. She was my last hope.

  She was in the same
place she was when I saw her in the park.

  Fortunately, she was on an upswing today.

  “Echo? Is that you?” Shirley shielded her eyes from the sun. Cotton came over, tail wagging, eyes happy to see me. “Come take a load off. You wanted my help.” Snapping her fingers, Shirley jumped to her feet, scaring all three animals. “Now I remember. Someone came to me to about Smiley.”

  “Smiley?”

  “Yeah. I vaguely recall someone telling me they hadn’t seen him in a few days. You probably have seen him. He’s the old black guy who holds out one of those plastic Halloween pumpkins for money.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think I know him.”

  “A real sweetheart, that one. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Autism or something.”

  “And he’s missing?”

  “Smiley’s people live in Oakland, off MacArthur somewhere. They’re street folks and he visits them at least every other week, sometimes more. If he’s not with them, and I don’t believe he is, bring me something of his back. Maybe I can pick something up. Don’t hold your breath, though. Like my sanity, my powers come and go, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

  “Is Smiley his real name?”

  She shrugged. “Only his people would know.”

  “I appreciate your help on this, Shirl.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone like me. I know we have very different powers, Echo, but it’s nice to meet one as sweet as you.”

  “When’s the last time?”

  She sighed and looked away. “I met a man once, a nasty sort of guy, a telepath, if I recall correctly. He came at me wanting something…I don’t remember what it was. Anyway, he was the last one of us I’ve officially met until you.” She fed the bird a chip. “Don’t go to Oakland at night alone. It’s far more dangerous there than it is here.”

  I nodded. Oakland, California had a reputation from the Angela Davis Black Panther days that it never managed to outgrow. People see it as one big ghetto, one huge gang fest, but it’s more than that; so much more.

  I left Shirley and her animals and climbed into Ladybug. There was one message from Danica telling me the boys were staying late and wanted me to bring a pizza. I thought pizza was the very least I could do.

  My second message was from Finn, who wanted to meet me for coffee.

  Less than half an hour later, we were sitting in a small corner table at Starbucks. She looked so good in her uniform.

  “I just wanted you to know I called in a few markers and I think you might have something of a story, and we, a case.” Her eyes locked onto mine and I needed no empathic skills to feel her interest. “They aren’t in any morgue, hospital or shelter. That’s the good news. The bad news is, without public outcry, the chief won’t put anyone on it.”

  “So far, I have a possible six guys missing. That’s not enough?”

  “Is it six now?” Finn leaned forward.

  I nodded. “There’s some guy named Smiley whose people are in Oakland. I’ll check—”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re going to cruise around Oakland at night looking for this guy?”

  “I grew up there, Finn. It’s only dangerous in certain areas, and I have no intention of going there. I’ll be fine.”

  “Let me go with you.”

  I had to laugh. “Everything about you screams I’m a cop!”

  Flipping open her leather holder, she pulled out a can of mace. Sliding it across the table, she said, “Take it.”

  So I did. “You worry too much. Is that the cop in you?”

  “Not this time.” She smiled softly. “It’s the…friend in me. A white woman going into the belly of one of the meanest places in the Bay Area is reason to worry, don’t you think? Hell, Echo, if I could outfit you with Kevlar and an automatic, I would.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Finn, really I do, but I’ll be fine. When you grow up in Oakland, you just don’t look at it the way others do. Honestly it’s not that bad.”

  “When are you going?”

  “Tonight. When my story is done.”

  Rising, she started for the check, but I swiped it first. “My turn. I hear you have to pay your confidantes.”

  She shook her head. “This one you don’t. It’s always free of charge.” Finn took me by the shoulders and leaned into my face. Her breath was warm and her lips inches from my face. “Be careful out there, Echo. This world is a better place with you in it.”

  Standing on tiptoe, I kissed her cheek before whispering, “I’ll call you, Officer Finn. Don’t wait up.”

  She looked deep into my eyes in a way that might have mesmerized me had I been anyone else. Without thinking, I wrapped one hand around her neck and pulled her to me, kissing her softly. She returned the kiss, leaving her arms at her side.

  “How about if I just wait?”

  After we both set out on our separate ways, I headed to the office to finish writing up my “story.” I wasn’t the least bit sure this would get off of Wes’s desk, but it was all I had and was better than what I thought Carter was working on.

  My cell buzzed. Danica.

  “I think the boys found something to help.”

  I perked up and pulled over. “On my missing guys?”

  “I wish. No. On Mayor Lee and the immigrant story.”

  Now she had my attention. “I put Roger on it and he dug and dug and finally came up with information buried so deep, not even Carter’s connections would be able to find it.” She inhaled. “He’s not sleeping with the illegal woman who is his maid, although I can see where it might look like that from a distance. She’s not really even the maid, but his masseuse.”

  “His masseuse lives with him?”

  “Long story. Back in college, he was in a Mexican bar and things got out of hand for some reason, I guess no one knows why. Anyway, I guess Lee was getting his ass kicked when Maria busted a bottle on the assailant’s head, keeping Lee from getting seriously hurt. He told her if he could ever pay her back, he would.”

  “Oh my God. Why doesn’t Lee tell that story?”

  “Because she was a hooker at the time. The bar was in a whorehouse.”

  I put my hand to my mouth. How could Carter be so off-base? “But Carter must have something on Lee or he wouldn’t risk telling another unsubstantiated story.”

  “There are a few photos of them together floating around on the Internet. He’s on his belly on the massage table. The photos have, no doubt, been doctored. The boys were able to see that right off. They’ll show you. You show Bentley. Game over.”

  “Is she an illegal, though?”

  “Yes, she is. The boys did find that she started her paperwork already.”

  “How…never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  “So it appears that Carter is so blinded by both his dislike of you as well as his quest to pummel you into the ground that he hasn’t dug deep enough for the truth. Of course, he doesn’t have my guys on his team. All they did was look into Lee’s past and saw that he went on spring break as a college student to Mexico. They pulled up a few Mexican newspapers and found a little story about the incident. They went from there. The main thing they found out was Carter’s got nothing for proof except doctored photos.”

  I was scribbling as fast as I could. “This is perfect. Perfect!”

  “It’s sitting in your e-mail box as we speak. But what are you going to do with it?”

  “Warn Wes. I figure if I let him know that Carter’s story is bogus or that he should at least dig deeper, maybe he’ll print mine instead. At the very least, this should stall Carter’s story long enough for me to make some headway on mine. Thank you so much.”

  “I did this one for me, Clark. No way am I going out with that dildo. Speaking of which, my date just arrived, so I gotta split. What are you up to?”

  If I told her I was going to Oakland, she’d have left her date standing at the door, so I hedged a little. “Me? Oh, just doing a little digging on my own. Thank the boys f
or me, will you?”

  When I hung up, I felt some of the stress I’d been feeling lift from my shoulders. As I started to open my e-mail from my iPhone, I realized the fine line I was walking on this one.

  Wes—

  My sources tell me to hold Carter’s story until further proof. He has bogus sources. I don’t. See attached doctored photos. Second retraction imminent if it goes to press tonight. Explain more later. Trust me.

  The ball had landed deeply in Wes’s side of the court. He hated retractions. He’d cut me enough time I needed to get my story together.

  Reentering the freeway, I headed for the bridge and the town I once called home.

  When you have the ability to defend yourself, you tend to be less afraid. This was the attitude I took with me to Oakland. Bordering Berkeley, one of this country’s most bizarre and colorful cities, Oakland has a flavor all its own, and there was a lot to like. There was also a lot to be cautious about. But a city like Oakland didn’t get its reputation without incident.

  MacArthur Boulevard is over ten miles long and runs from one end of the city to the other. I knew the areas where most of the homeless hung out and aimed my little car in that direction.

  Leaving Ladybug in a Pizza Hut parking lot, I grabbed my purse, then I put my Mickey Mouse jacket on so that my purse wasn’t visible or accessible. I made sure to put Finn’s mace in my jacket pocket. I didn’t think I would need it. I had pretty much perfected my combat shield, but had only a fifty-fifty chance of pulling it up under extreme stress. I had managed to do that one night and two more times after that, but I wasn’t sure I could do it outside the Bayou and hoped I wouldn’t have to.

  I didn’t have to walk long before I found my first homeless woman. It was just smarter and safer to approach a woman, even though so many of them tended to be mentally ill or drunk. A woman on the streets was seldom mentally or physically healthy.

  “I’m looking for Smiley’s people,” I said to a woman who looked a little like Granny on the Beverly Hillbillies. She was rail thin, had her hair pulled back in a gray bun and wore glasses too small for her face. On tiptoe, she was probably four foot eleven inches at best.

  She looked me up and down. “You a cop?”