She didn"t sound surprised."Are you all right?"
"Yeah, but you wouldn"t believe-"
She cut in."Are you in Remington?"
"Yes, but you don"t understand. I was just-"
"I do dounderstand. It"s going to be all right. Where in town are you?"
Joe hesitated. Something was very wrong here.
"Bailey?"
"Yeah. It"s a bar called the Funky Tusk."
"Okay, here"s the drill. The guys who grabbed you will be bringing your car and personal possessions there. Are you okay to drive?"
"Uh, sure."
"Come straight here."
Joe glanced at the clock on the wall: 9:05 P.M. "I won"t be there until after eleven."
"We"ll be waiting for you. See you then." She hung up.
Twenty minutes later, Joe watched as his 4-Runner entered the parking lot and rolled to a stop in front of him. Griffith was driving. He climbed out and handed Joe a padded manila envelope. "It"s all here. Your wallet, ID, cell phone, everything. No offense, buddy."
"Buddy ?Whatthe h.e.l.l happened out there?"
"I have a hunch you"ll find out soon enough."The man turned and c.o.c.ked his head toward a white pickup truck that had just entered the parking lot. "There"s my ride. Have a good night."
Eleven-sixteen P.M.
Joe walked into Henderson"s office to see the captain, Howe, Carla, and two men he didn"t recognize.
Howe gave him a thin-lipped smile."Okay, Bailey. Is this your revenge for us dragging you along with Monica Gaines in the middle of the night?"
Before Joe could reply, FBI special agent Raymond Fisher entered the room. It had seemed like ages since Joe had seen him at Grady Memorial, but it actually had been only the previous morning. "Uh-oh. Why are you here?"Joe asked.
"I was hoping you could tell me,"Fisher said.
Henderson stepped around her desk and shook hands with Fisher. "Agent Fisher, thanks for coming on such short notice."She motioned to the two strangers. "This is Craig Oka, a.s.sistant director of Army intelligence, and Derek Haddenfield, projectleader. They came to us a few hours ago with some interesting information. Gentlemen?"
Oka adjusted his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses. "Thank you.
I regret you were inconvenienced earlier this evening, Mr. Bailey. I trust you"re okay."
Joe nodded."Fine. Now, what the h.e.l.l is going on?"
Oka addressed the group. "As you probably know, in military intelligence we try to keep ourselves open to a variety of information-gathering tech-niques. We conduct studies that relate to surveillance methods, persuasion strategies, polygraph technologies, you name it. From time to time, our studies also explore extrasensory techniques."
Joe half smiled. "Don"t tell me you"re trying to groom psychic spies?"
"No,"Oka said flatly. "But if we find evidence that true psychics do, in fact, exist, it obviously would be an avenue worth exploring. Our latest project, called the Narada study, has been taking place in a former military installation in South Carolina. Mr. Hadden-field is the director of that study."
Haddenfield was clearly uncomfortable. He didn"t look anyone in the eye as he spoke. "It"s been going on for almost two years. We gathered several world-renowned psychics and subjected them to a variety of tests. Monica Gaines partic.i.p.ated several times over the past eighteen months."
Howe glanced at Joe. "That"s where she was all those times?"
Joe nodded."I found the testing center today. I was locked up there most of the afternoon."
Haddenfield crossed his arms in front of him as if bracing for an attack. "There was nothing sinister go-ing on, no government conspiracies. It was just important that we maintain security precautions."
"Even from a police detective?"Carla asked.
"It took them a while to verify that"s who he really was,"Haddenfield replied. "This was a cla.s.sified study."
Oka stepped forward. "With no offense toward Mr. Haddenfield"s work, this study is just the type of thing that brings ridicule to the military and its spending policies. We knew that we probably wouldn"t find anything there, but it was an idea worth exploring."
Haddenfield"s face went red with anger.
"What were wereyour results?"Joe asked.
Haddenfield glared at him."That"s cla.s.sified."
Oka smiled."The findings have been inconclusive, Detective, just like all of our previous studies."
"It"s still ongoing,"Haddenfield snapped. "Monica Gaines cut short her last series of tests to come here and offer her a.s.sistance to your department. We"ve never studied a psychic in action like this, investigating a crime. So, I gathered a team and came here to observe her. We stayed even after her accident. If there was some paranormal component to her attack, it could have been worth studying. It was going well until a member of my team disappeared a few days ago at Grady Memorial."
"That"s the guy I"ve been looking for?"Fisher asked.
Oka nodded. "Yes. I"m sorry we weren"t more forthcoming with the Bureau. He was working on a cla.s.sified study, and we had to decide how many people to let in the loop."
"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 gla.s.ses 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. "s.h.i.t. 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 s.h.i.t."
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. d.a.m.n, 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.
"h.e.l.lo, 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 b.u.t.ton. 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 p.i.s.sed,"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 always looking for? Something that isn"t quite right."He took a few quick shots of the undercarriage. Everything appeared normal. 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."