The Sound of Echoes

by Eric Bernt

  It made the thought of what he had to do later that day slightly more palatable. The problem was not the killing or torture that was on his agenda. Goodness, no, those were the rewards. The problem was the building he would be required to enter. Mr. Elliott’s father had contracted early-onset Alzheimer’s and had lived in a nursing home for the final two decades of his life. Mr. Elliott had found the place depressing as hell because, among other reasons, it smelled like death—and not the good kind. It had the odor of infection and decay. The kind of death that was pathetic: slow and inevitable. There was nothing whatsoever appealing about it.

  He accepted that it was a small price to pay. He had a fish to catch, but an elusive one. He knew that he would never find her directly; he’d have to draw her out. And he had found the perfect bait to do so.

  CHAPTER 56

  SAFE HOUSE

  GILBERTS CORNER, VIRGINIA

  June 2, 6:49 a.m.

  Caitlin had already been up for hours. She was able to function on only a few hours of sleep when she needed to, and on this day more than any other, she needed to.

  She plotted strategy while maintaining satellite surveillance on her family’s location in Harvey, North Dakota, as well as Edward Parks’s location in Woodsdale, Maryland. There had been no sign of unusual activity in either location, so she focused on her assault plan. Which had to be executed as soon as possible. She knew the longer this game went on, the more likely she would be forced to play defense, which included bearing the unthinkable. Caitlin had told herself that she would not relent under any circumstances, but if that time came, saying it and doing it were two different things.

  She called Butler, who answered on the first ring. “Good morning.”

  “Why do you sound so cheerful?” Caitlin asked.

  “If you’d had the breakfast I just had, you would, too.”

  “I’ve had a protein bar and freeze-dried coffee.”

  “Both are items I am plenty familiar with. Which is what made the breakfast I was served this morning so special.”

  She paused briefly to let him know the chitchat was over. “You ready to get to work?”

  “Copy that.”

  “Will Edward Parks allow you to take possession of his device?”

  “That is unlikely.” He said it in a way that let her know this conversation was not currently comfortable for him to have.

  “Is he within earshot of you?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Step away.”

  She heard a door opening, followed by footsteps down a hall. “If you’re going to ask why I don’t just take the box, the answer is I don’t know how to work the thing.”

  “Get him to teach you,” she responded, suggesting the obvious.

  “He will ask why I want him to do that, and he’ll know if I don’t tell him the truth.”

  “So tell him the truth.”

  “Then he won’t teach me.”

  Caitlin was becoming frustrated. “Will he teach Skylar?”

  Butler paused. “That’s a good question.”

  “Find out and call me back.” She hung up.

  Lolo was no longer in Eddie’s room. Neither were the breakfast plates. She’d apparently taken them back to the kitchen for cleanup. Eddie cupped his hands behind his ears the moment Butler walked out of the room. He closed his eyes to focus all his concentration on his powerful hearing. Skylar studied him, speaking quietly. “Can you hear what he’s saying?”

  Eddie nodded. “He is continuing his phone call with someone who knows about the echo box.” He turned to her. “I hope I get to make a phone call one day.”

  “Then I will make sure that happens.”

  He smiled briefly, then turned back toward the door, repeating Butler’s side of the conversation with Caitlin. “‘If you’re going to ask why I don’t just take the box, the answer is I don’t know how to work the thing . . . He will ask why I want him to do that, and he’ll know if I don’t tell him the truth . . . Then he won’t teach me . . . That’s a good question.’”

  Skylar watched him closely. “What’s a good question?”

  “I don’t know, but you can ask Detective McHenry. He is walking toward us.”

  Eddie sat back on the bed as Butler entered the room. “Eddie, I have a question for you.”

  “It’s a ‘good question,’ isn’t it?”

  Butler gawked at Skylar. “I was all the way down at the end of the hall. Really?”

  She nodded. “What did she want you to ask him?”

  He took a breath. “If he would teach me how to use the echo box.”

  Eddie shook his head. “No.”

  “What if I said please?”

  Eddie did not hesitate. “No.”

  Butler turned to Skylar. “Uh, I could use some help here.”

  “No.” Eddie stared out the window.

  Skylar addressed Butler, shaking her head. “I’m not going to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do.”

  “No.”

  “I’m on your side, Eddie,” she said.

  He looked confused. “I didn’t know I had a side.”

  “I’m in agreement with you,” she clarified.

  He paused. “So I don’t have to teach Butler how to use the echo box if I do not want to?”

  She replied reassuringly, “No, not if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want to.” Eddie continued staring out the window.

  Skylar turned to Butler. “There you have it.”

  Butler paused, realizing he would need to raise the stakes. “What if I told you it could save both of your lives?”

  Eddie stared at him. “True.” The expression on his face made it clear he wished Butler had been lying. Eddie started to feel uncomfortable. His hand began to twitch, like he was about to start slapping himself.

  Skylar saw this, and she interjected quickly, “Eddie, I have an idea.”

  “What is your idea?”

  She took a breath. “Would you be willing to teach me how to use the echo box?”

  He paused, surprised by the question. “Yes, but why would you want me to teach you?”

  “Because if anyone is going to use the echo box other than you, it should be me.”

  CHAPTER 57

  JESSUP FIELDS’S ESTATE

  PARADISE VALLEY, ARIZONA

  June 2, 5:01 a.m. Mountain Standard Time

  Jessup Fields was sound asleep in the four-thousand-square-foot master bedroom of his $27-million home in the most expensive enclave of the Grand Canyon State. Given the twelve acres of lavish lawns and lush greenery surrounding the twenty-bathroom home, it was hard to imagine that arid desert lay beneath it.

  Having played cohost to an event in honor of the president of the United States the night before, he had gone to bed much later than he preferred. Such were the sacrifices in entertaining the leader of the free world. But the night had gone well, and his many well-heeled friends had kicked in admirably, so this was going to be a morning to relish the accomplishment. A scheme he and his brother had set in motion shortly after the president had taken up residence in the West Wing was going precisely according to plan. They were ensuring his future as well as their own. It would last for generations.

  Jessup’s plans did not include being awakened by his cell phone, particularly not at this hour. Only a handful of people in the world had this number: the president, his brother, and his three ex-wives. If it didn’t involve one of his eight children, his exes were forbidden from disturbing his sleep. One of them must have gotten themselves into another situation was all he could think as he struggled to reach for the device. Too tired to check the caller ID, he guessed it was his brother because it usually was. “Yes?”

  The woman’s voice was friendly but assured. “Good morning, Mr. Fields. I’m terribly sorry to wake you, but this is a matter of some urgency.”

  He did not recognize the voice, and he sat up abruptly. No stranger had ever called him on this phone bef
ore. “Who is this?”

  “Consider me a friend.” She sounded sincere.

  “A friend wouldn’t be waking me so damn early in the morning.”

  “When you hear what I have to say, you’ll understand.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, friend. With whom am I speaking?”

  “Call me Eleanor.”

  “And just how did you come by this number?”

  “The same way I know that your arrangement with the president to ensure his victory in the upcoming election is about to be exposed.”

  He paused to make sure he had heard her. “Excuse me?” Now he was certain that he had; it was a lot to unpack. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.

  “If he hasn’t already, the president will be receiving a call from Bob Stenson of the American Heritage Foundation, threatening to bring the house down.”

  “You’ve lost me.” She hadn’t, but Jessup wanted the unknown caller to spell out in greater detail exactly what she was saying.

  “Stenson will replay a conversation you had in the Oval Office earlier this year, in which you convinced the president to use the services of you and your brother instead of continuing to rely on the American Heritage Foundation for his reelection purposes.”

  “And you know this how, exactly?”

  “Let’s just say I have direct inside knowledge.”

  Jessup now understood that if this caller was to be believed, Bob Stenson had an insurrection on his hands—which could become useful later. “Assuming such a conversation did take place, how would Mr. Stenson have come by this recording?”

  “You poked the bear. When you usurped his authority with the president, Stenson took it as a declaration of war. He intends to make an example of you both. He has made it his priority to bring down this administration and to destroy your company in the process so that no one ever dares to challenge his authority again.”

  Like everyone else in the circles of power, Jessup had heard the stories about Bob Stenson and his foundation but never fully believed them. “I thought Mr. Stenson was one of the president’s strongest supporters.”

  “Not one of, sir. The strongest. The American Heritage Foundation was the primary reason he won the first election, which is why it was viewed as an act of disloyalty when he decided to rely on you instead.”

  “You seem to be discounting the excess of thirty million dollars my brother and I contributed through various channels to put the man in the Oval Office.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, Mr. Fields, but if you thought money was all it took, you and your brother would have stayed on the sidelines, throwing your cash at the ponies as they raced by.”

  He had to give this woman credit, whoever she was. She was sharp and well informed, and she didn’t pull her punches. Why the hell doesn’t she work for me? “Now that you have my attention, what exactly is the purpose of your call?”

  “I have a plan that will help us both achieve our desired goals.”

  “Do tell.”

  She paused just a moment to let him know she was in complete control. “The president will be calling you in a panic fairly soon to say that Bob Stenson intends to force him to resign and that you will be going to prison. After he finishes blubbering, tell him that he has nothing to worry about. Then hang up and call me back.” She paused again to allow everything she had said to sink in. “But please, don’t try to trace this number. If you do, I will know, and if there’s one thing you need to appreciate about me, it’s how much I value my privacy.” She hung up.

  Jessup sat for a moment, staring at the phone. “Lord, you work in mysterious ways.”

  CHAPTER 58

  DAVID’S PLACE

  WOODSDALE, MARYLAND

  June 2, 8:08 a.m.

  Lolo returned to Eddie’s room to find Eddie instructing Skylar in how to operate the echo box, which was tethered to his laptop computer. Lolo was mesmerized by the device’s eight one-inch satellite microphones as they performed their synchronized ballet, acoustically mapping the room. “What is that?” she asked with eager curiosity, pointing to the device.

  “It is an echo box,” Eddie answered without looking up.

  “I like how they move together. It looks like they are doing a dance. I like dancing.” She mimicked the movements with her fingers.

  “They are not dancing. They are satellite microphones acoustically mapping the room.”

  Lolo’s expression made it clear she had no idea what that meant. “I have never seen an echo box before, because I would remember if I had.”

  He still didn’t look up. “I know you have not seen one. That is because nobody has seen one. Well, except for Butler and Skylar and several staff members and residents of Harmony House.”

  She leaned in more closely to get a better look at the microphones.

  He only saw her out of the corner of his eye, but he panicked, blurting out, “Don’t touch them!”

  Lolo immediately backed away, looking like she was about to cry. “I didn’t. I didn’t touch anything. I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t. I’ve just never seen one before. I’ll leave now.”

  Skylar turned to Eddie. “That was uncalled for. There was no reason to raise your voice like that.”

  “I thought she was going to touch one of the satellite microphones. She could have damaged them.”

  “But she didn’t, did she?”

  He shook his head, clearly starting to feel guilty. His hand began to twitch.

  Skylar pointed to Lolo. “Can you see that you made her cry?”

  Eddie now looked up and saw her weeping as she backed toward the door. “Those are not happy tears, are they?”

  “No, they are not,” Skylar answered somewhat tersely.

  As Lolo reached the door, Eddie glanced at her, then lowered his gaze to stare at the floor by her feet. “I apologize for raising my voice. That was wrong.” His tone softened considerably. “Please don’t leave.”

  She paused in the doorway. “You yelled at me.”

  “I should not have done that. I am sorry.” He glanced up at her briefly.

  Lolo managed to collect herself. “I was-was yelled at a lot when I was younger. Even when I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t. Just like now. Makes me sad. I don’t like it.”

  Eddie clasped his hands together, interlocking his fingers. “If I promise not to do it again, would you stay?”

  She took a moment to study him closely. “You know, a promise is a promise.”

  He nodded, smiling ever so slightly as he stared at the floor. “Yes, I do know.”

  “Well-well, how do I know you’re not just saying that?”

  Eddie looked confused. “I am saying it.”

  “Do-do you mean it?”

  “Yes, I mean it. Why else would I say it?”

  “Lots of people say things they don’t mean.”

  He nodded again, appearing to understand now. “I am saying it. I am saying it I because it is the truth. I never lie.”

  “Never?” she asked dubiously.

  “Well, almost never. The only exception is in very specific circumstances that Skylar explained require people to sometimes not tell the truth, but this is not one of those situations.”

  Skylar couldn’t help but chime in. “He’s not exaggerating. He pretty much never lies.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Pretty much.”

  Reassured, Lolo moved back toward them, where she could see the computer screen. The three-dimensional graphic representation of the room was nearing completion. Her eyes went wide with curiosity. “What is it doing?”

  CHAPTER 59

  AMERICAN HERITAGE FOUNDATION

  ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

  June 2, 8:14 a.m.

  The sun had already been up for a while. Enola Meyers and Charlie Johnson had been up the entire night, looking for a digital needle in an electronic haystack. And gotten nowhere. They had done just as instructed, putting themselves in the perspective of Eddie’s rescuers,
and imagined every single escape route they could have taken. Enola and Charlie had been methodical and thorough. And every single promising path had either gone nowhere or run into a brick wall. To describe them as frustrated and exhausted would be using both adjectives mildly.

  Each had consumed more caffeine than either usually did in a week. Charlie had tossed back a pot and a half of coffee, which his stomach was showing signs of rebelling against. Enola had started with black tea but had moved to Red Bull by one a.m. and then sports energy chews—each of which contained fifty milligrams of caffeine—by four a.m. Such chews were typically used by endurance athletes well into long-distance sporting events to keep their bodies functioning beyond normal limits of exhaustion. Searching for Edward Parks had become her Ironman.

  “Tell me you’ve got something,” pleaded Charlie.

  “If I did, you would have been the first to know.”

  He put his head in his hands with frustration. “Do we just suck at this, or what?”

  She pointed to her screen. “None of the best trackers operating on the East Coast has found him, either. None of them has less than eighteen years of experience. We have less than eighteen months, so I wouldn’t beat ourselves up too much yet.”

  Charlie pointed toward their door, referring to Trotter and Greers. “What about our friends down the hall?”

  “If they had found Edward Parks, they would be dancing on our desks and rubbing it in our faces.”

  Daryl Trotter had nodded off just after five o’clock that morning. He slept with his head on his desk. He awoke just as the sun started streaming in through the windows. It took him a moment to get his bearings.

  Nearby, Jason Greers continued to work his screens, glancing over briefly. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  Daryl stood up, stretched, and moved groggily to the window, where something caught his attention. “How long have there been armed guards outside our building?” He was referring to the six black-clad men who were visible, patrolling nearby.

  “Not sure. They must have arrived sometime during the night.” Greers sounded completely nonchalant.

  Trotter walked over to him. “And this doesn’t concern you?”