by Roy Johansen
“Which is what you're doing now,”Joe said. “But would you be so forthcoming if I hadn't found your testing center? Or, even more to the point, if I hadn't escaped from your testing center?”
Oka took off his glasses and wiped them. “When you were caught, the personnel at the installation immediately phoned their superiors. This has been the subject of many meetings today, and ultimately, some sort of disclosure would have been made. We were trying to decide the best way to do that when you took your leave. So, yes, your escape pressed the point. I contacted your department immediately.”
Joe stared at Haddenfield. “Would you like your tri-field meter back?”
Haddenfield stared at him. “I'm not sure what you're talking about.”
“You broke into my apartment with a trifield meter the other night. I chased you. Surely you haven't already forgotten.”
Haddenfield smiled.”I think I'd remember that.”
“I have the serial number. It shouldn't be too hard to find out if that unit was sold to your team.”
Haddenfield let out a long breath. “Shit. Okay, it was me.”
Oka wrinkled his brow.”What's this?”
Joe jerked his thumb toward Haddenfield. “Apparently, his research project extended to my apartment. I caught him in my place a couple of days ago and chased him. I didn't get a good look at his face, but there aren't too many other people around who would be sweeping my place with a trifield meter. It's down in the evidence room.”
Oka glared at Haddenfield.”Explain.”
“There was some unexplained phenomena at Mr. Bailey's apartment,”Haddenfield said defensively. “It might have been related to what happened to Monica Gaines, so I thought it was important to—”
“I've heard enough,”Oka said. “We'll discuss this later, Haddenfield.”
Henderson stared daggers at Oka and Haddenfield. “Whatever your security problems may be, we're in the middle of a homicide investigation. Frankly, we don't have time for this shit.”
Joe almost smiled. Henderson was famous for her short temper, though he'd never witnessed it firsthand.
She suddenly dominated the room, although she was a good six inches shorter than anyone else. “No more secrets, no more lies, gentlemen. We're not some Podunk sheriff's office that you can push around. I do have political connections who will make your lives miserable. Do you understand?”
Haddenfield turned to Oka. “Do we need to listen to this?”
“Yes, you do,”Henderson said. “And I want full cooperation from now on.”
Oka nodded. “You'll get it.”
“Good. You can start by apologizing to Detective Bailey. It's up to him whether he presses charges or not.”
Joe turned on the radio and pulled onto West Peachtree Street. Damn, he was tired. It had been a long day, and he couldn't wait to get to bed. He'd just talked to his father, and Nikki was in bed, asleep.Carla was there with them, and Joe had visions of walking through the door and catching them making out on his sofa.
He was too tired to care.
He'd let the military intelligence guys off the hook. Haddenfield was no different from scores of other parapsychologists he'd encountered over the years, desperate to prove that their life's work wasn't a total sham. He actually felt sorry for the guy. Oka was decent enough, and he'd handed over Monica Gaines's complete testing schedule for the previous eighteen months.
The radio was on, and a familiar melody flooded the interior of the car. It was his and Angela's song, “Verdi Cries.”He hadn't heard it in a long time.
Strange. It was an old Natalie Merchant/10,000 Maniacs song, and he didn't remember ever hearing it on the radio. During the soft piano solo, he felt emotion rising in his throat.
“Hello, old friend…”
The whispering voice came from behind him.
Angela's voice.
He swerved to a stop and pulled out his revolver.
“Joe…”
He whirled around.
No one was in the seat behind him.
The song's lyrical, almost mournful violin struck a low note.
“Be careful, Joe….”
Joe squinted at the stereo speakers. Was the voice coming from there?
He finally spoke. “Careful of what?”
The song suddenly broke up, overtaken by staticand finally, an Eddie Van Halen guitar riff. He turned toward the stereo and pressed the eject button. No tape. It was tuned to radio station 96 Rock just as it always was.
He wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt.
Jesus Christ.
He gripped the wheel hard and jammed his foot on the accelerator.
“I don't know whether to be flattered or pissed,”Suzanne said as she joined Joe on the curb outside her home. She held a long extension cord that stretched back to her front door.
“I didn't know where else to go,”Joe said. He lay on his side and rotated the handle of his car jack. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“Hey, what else was I going to do at one in the morning? Except maybe get a good night's sleep.”She held up the extension cord. “Where do you want this thing?”
Joe pointed to a work light he'd placed on the sidewalk.”There. Plug that in, will you?”
She plugged it in and angled the light beneath his 4-Runner.”What exactly are you looking for?”
Joe reached into his spirit kit and pulled out a digital camera. “What am I always looking for? Something that isn't quite right.”He took a few quick shots of the undercarriage. Everything appeared normal.
“Joe, you're tired. You said it yourself. Maybe you heard the song and it brought back some memories.”
“I didn't imagine it. It was too real.”
“It wouldn't be a delusion if it wasn't.”
“You think I'm delusional?”
“I think you're under a lot of stress.”
“What kind of spiritualist are you? I thought you wanted to convince me of this stuff.”
“You won't let me convince you.”
“I came here because you're the one person I know who wouldn't think I was crazy. You know what these people are capable of and how ingenious they can be.”
“The psychic scam artists?”
“Yes.”
“But you think I might be one of them.”
He slid out from under the 4-Runner. “But I don't know.A year ago I would've known, but now I don't.”
“Is that so bad?”
“Right now it is. I really don't think it's Angela, but every fiber of my being wants to believe it. And because of you, a tiny piece of me doesbelieve it.”He stared into the open hatchback, where he'd taken out the trunk panels.”Shit. There's nothing in here.”
“Call the radio station.”
“Right.”Joe grabbed his cell phone, called information, which patched him through to 96 Rock. The nighttime deejay had never even heard of “Verdi Cries”and assured him that it had never been played on his watch. Joe cut the connection.
“They didn't play it?”Suzanne asked.
Joe shook his head.”No.”
“Well, there goes the idea of the song stirring up old memories for you.”
“Maybe someone was following me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Following you with a hacked radio?”
He thought it through.”Yes.A low-power CB radio hacked to transmit on the FM band. This is the only station I listen to. If they were tuned to this frequency, they could have transmitted the song, Angela's voice, everything. Low wattage, so they had to stay close by.”
Suzanne nodded. “Otherwise, everyone in the neighborhood would be listening to your wife's voice. But how did they know about your song?”
“I don't know.”
“Who would do this, Joe?”
“I don't know that either.”He glanced back at the 4-Runner.”I don't have one single bit of proof, but it's all I can think of.”
“Sounds reasonable to me.”
He turned toward her. “Tha
nks for helping. I thought I was going a little crazy.”
“If it helps any, I thought you were too.”She smiled. “But I'm glad you thought of me.”
“Yeah.”
She stepped closer.”Can I talk you into staying?”
God, it was tempting. “It would only make a crazy day that much crazier. You wouldn't believe all that I've been through.”
She took his hand.”Come inside and tell me about it.”
Haddenfield slammed on his brakes to avoid being run off the road. Christ. Dylan's monstrous SUV cut in front of him and squealed to a stop. They were on a dark street in Midtown, only a few blocks from the hospital observation center.
Dylan jumped out of his SUV and charged toward him. Haddenfield opened his door. “Hold on, Dylan. Let me just—”
Dylan pulled him out and threw him onto the hood of his car. “What the fuck did you tell them, Haddenfield?”
“Nothing, I swear. I just told them what they needed to hear.”
Dylan applied pressure to Haddenfield's neck. “That's what I'm afraid of.”
“No,”Haddenfield rasped.”Bailey found our testing center. I had to explain what Monica Gaines was doing out there.”
“And the Narada Study?”
“A complete failure as far as they're concerned. I didn't tell them anything else.”Haddenfield gasped for air.”Please …You have to believe me.”
Dylan released the pressure. “You didn't talk to them about what happened to your idiot team member? About Gary?”
“I didn't tell them anything. Why would I do that? I'm practically an accessory, for Christ's sake.”
Dylan fixed him with a doubtful stare. “You'd better not be lying to me.”
“I'm not.”
Dylan stepped back.
Haddenfield sat up, gingerly stroking his throat. “The son-of-a-bitch cop broke into the testing center. We couldn't keep it a secret anymore.”
Dylan nodded. “What do you know about Joe Bailey?”
“Just that I represent everything he's against. He'sgood at his job, and most psychics won't go near him.”
“Monica Gaines did.”
“We both know that she's a special case.”
“Is Bailey a threat to us?”
Haddenfield thought for a moment. Could his answer actually get Bailey killed? It should've given him a feeling of power, but instead it just made him sick.”I don't know,”he finally replied. “We should wait and see how his investigation progresses.”
“We don't want to wait too long, Haddenfield.”
“You never give up, do you?”Suzanne smiled at Joe as she walked into her séance room.
“I couldn't sleep.”
“Well, you could have at least put on a robe. It's chilly in here.”She tossed him a throw from the back of the sofa.
“I needed to cool down a little.”As usual, sex with Suzanne was fiery and passionate, yet incredibly tender. He'd never felt so connected with anyone else besides Angela.
Suzanne pulled her bedsheet tighter around her nude body and sat down on the sofa beside him. “If I were a little less secure, I'd think that you bedded me down to sneak another peek in here.”
Joe shook his head. “You know better than that. You've never had a problem with my unexpectedly showing up for your séances, and you've always allowed me to impose any conditions I wanted.”
“You're right.”
“You've even allowed me to choose the time andlocation of your séances with no advance notice. Not once have you used the lame excuses that almost every other spiritualist and psychic has used on me.”
Suzanne smiled. “Oh, like your negative vibes are inhibiting my abilities?”
“Exactly. I've never met anyone like you.”
“I hope you're not just talking about the paranormal stuff.”
“Of course not.”He gently touched her cheek. “You're amazing in every way.”
“I've always felt the same way about you.”
“Jesus, I'm sorry I shut you out for so long.”
“I'm sorry too. I wondered if I'd ever see you again.”
He looked away. “When I thought there was just a one-tenth-of-one-percent chance that your abilities were real, I liked it. Thanks to you, my door was cracked open to an amazing new world.”
“So what happened?”
“The more I saw you, the less I could explain.”
“Couldn't stand to lose your perfect record, huh?”
“It was more than that. You threw that door wide open. I wasn't only imagining that world, I had to find a way to livein it. It was harder than I thought it would be. When you spend your whole life thinking one way, it's not easy to change.”
“Good God, you mean you actually believe in me now?”
“Let's just say that the scales have definitely tipped in your direction.”
She nodded.”Good. I'm glad for small favors.”
“And thanks for helping me out with this Angela stuff. It's been …difficult.”
Suzanne reached out and rubbed his back. “What made you come in here?”
He glanced around the séance room. “I don't know. Maybe because it's where I first started to believe in you.”
“Could there be another reason?”
“Like what?”
She hesitated. “Maybe you think you can speak to Angela here.”
He opened his mouth to deny it but stopped himself. “Maybe.”
“Are you ready for that? Because if you are, I think I can make it happen.”
He instinctively backed off.”Not yet.”
“I didn't think so.”She leaned her head against his shoulder. “When you're ready, and one day you will be, the offer's always open.”
Are you fast enough to catch me, Joe?”
He ran faster. This time he could do it. He could catch Angela.
He'd been here before, chasing her in this white, sandy desert. The sand slowed him down, but Angela glided over it, moving like the wind.
“I need you to catch me. Hurry, Joe.”
He tried to say something, but he was out of breath. He needed all his energy to chase her.
He heard only Angela's voice and the sound of his own breathing. Damn, it wasn't fair. Every time he got near her, she glided out of reach.
Was she taunting him? Was she being cruel?
No, of course not. There was nothing cruel about Angela. This was a dream. The dream he'd had almost every night when Angela was in the hospital. He forced himself to open his eyes.
Angela was still there.
She was on the television, laughing as she tried onsnow skis for the first time. It was a video of their trip to Big Bear, California, only three years before she died.
He checked his watch: 5:19 A.M. He'd come home from Suzanne's a little after four, popped in the videotape, and promptly fell asleep.
“She was a beautiful woman.”
Joe turned to see his father leaning against the doorjamb.”Your note said you were staying at Carla's.”
“Nikki's still there. Carla's going to take her to school. I thought you'd like some company.”Cal came into the room.”Been thinking about Angela, son?”
“Always.”Joe stopped the video. “I just wanted to—sort out some things.”
“It's nothing to be ashamed of. We all need to spend some time in the past.”
Joe stood.”It's not like that. This falls under the category of research.”
“If you say so. But if you want to talk, that's why I'm here.”
“Thanks, Dad.”His father had always been there for him. “Right now I think I just need to go to bed.”
Eight-fifteen A.M.
Joe awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He was about to answer it, when he heard his father pick up in the next room. A few seconds later, Cal rushed into his room.”Come on, Joe. We have to go to Nikki's school.”
Joe sat bolt upright. “Is she okay?”
“Yes, but her day is over. Monica Gai
nes's PsychicWorldjust went public with your so-called visitations from Angela.”
That bitch Tess Wayland. He jumped out of bed. He had to get to Nikki before the media descended on her.
“What's wrong, Daddy?”Nikki stood up from a chair in the principal's office.
Joe hugged Nikki while Cal closed the door behind them. “Sorry to yank you out of your classes, honey.”
Nikki shrugged. “No prob. You saved me from having to stand up and give a report on the agricultural revolution.”
“You'll make it up later.”
She made a face.”Great.”
“What did the principal tell you?”
“He said that you were going to take me home and that you'd tell me why when you got here.”
“Honey, remember the last time I investigated a murder case and all those reporters bothered us?”
“How could I forget that?It sucked out loud.”
“Well, it's going to happen again. Monica Gaines's TV show is doing a story about the things that have been going on.”
“What things?”
“The things in our apartment. The furniture, the fingerprints, maybe even the voices.”
“The voices?”
Joe nodded. How could he tell her? “After you thought you heard Mommy the other night …I heard something too.”
“Heard what?”
“Something …that sounded like Mommy's voice.”
Nikki's lower lip quivered.”I knew it was her.”
“I said it soundedlike her, not that it washer. There's a big difference.”
“What did she say?”
“Honey, I'm sure it wasn't really—”
“What did she say?”
Joe shared a quick glance with his father. “Just some stuff about me being careful. Nothing specific, nothing that proves anything.”
“She's trying to warn you.”
“Warn me of what?”
“Whatever hurt Monica Gaines. Whatever hurt those other people.”
“Honey, we don't know what's going on here, but I wanted to talk to you before someone else did. Monica's show just did a story about it and they uplinked it to their syndicator on a satellite. Reporters are already starting to call my precinct with questions. They may be coming after us next, so it would be best if you came home. Grandpa will look after you.”
