"Not that I know of."
"Has the room been disturbed since this happened?"
"No. I did a walk-through to make sure n.o.body was in there, but I didn"t touch anything."
"Good."
Howe lifted his eyebrows."Time for the spirit kit?"
Joe nodded."You got it."
Ten minutes later, Joe strode into Monica Gaines"s hotel room, carrying the worn black leather case that he kept in his car trunk. Containing an odd a.s.sortment of high-tech test instruments, evidence-gathering tools, and ordinary household objects, his "spirit kit"came in handy whenever he investigated the scene of a seance or other paranormal activity. Someone at the station had once affixed a Ghost-busters Ghost-busters "no ghosts"insignia on its side, and when the decal wore off, had even replaced it with another. Joe had no idea who the joker was, but he left on the sticker for his fellow officers"amus.e.m.e.nt. "no ghosts"insignia on its side, and when the decal wore off, had even replaced it with another. Joe had no idea who the joker was, but he left on the sticker for his fellow officers"amus.e.m.e.nt.
He placed the kit on the bed, opened it, and pulled out a pair of electronic goggles as Bonafas walked into the room.
Joe switched on the goggles and put them on. "Are Howe and Carla talking to the other witnesses?"
Bonafas nodded, staring curiously at Joe"s eyewear. "Yeah ...I got "em in the conference room downstairs. They all have pretty much the same story though."
Joe glanced around the room until his eyes fixed on the far wall. He pointed. "I suppose there"s a TV right about there in the room next door."
Bonafas took a moment to orient himself, then nodded. "Yeah. Every room on this floor flip-flops the layout of the one next to it, like a mirror image. That"d put the TV about there. Are those some kind of X-ray gla.s.ses?"
"Infrared. It lets me view heat waves. I can see a slight bit of heat buildup on that wall, concentrated in a small area about four feet from the floor."
Bonafas whistled. "Wow. Those things aren"t standard issue in Charleston."
"Here neither, at least not in the Fraud Unit. I picked these up secondhand from an army surplus wholesaler."
"You bought "em yourself?"
"I do some freelance debunking work for a university parapsychology program, and that helps pay for some of this stuff."Joe glanced around the room. "These gla.s.ses are amazingly handy during nighttime seances."
"What are you looking for now?"
"If someone was in here, waiting for her awhile, it"s possible though not likely there might still be some heat residue. Also, if there"s some kind of electronic mechanism in place that transmitted the voice, this may find it."
Bonafas watched as Joe surveyed the room with his gla.s.ses."See anything?"
Joe turned toward the bathroom and stopped. "Wait. There"s something in there."
Bonafas drew a snub-nosed .38 from his shoulder holster.
Joe shook his head. "That"s not necessary."He pulled on a pair of plastic evidence gloves and walked into the bathroom, where he immediately saw that the heat source was the tub of now-lukewarm water. He turned toward the washbasin. Nothing unusual.
Bonafas holstered his .38."Does she have fillings?"
"I don"t know,"Joe said."Why do you ask?"
"They say some people can pick up radio broadcasts with dental fillings. It sounds crazy, but maybe someone was transmitting to her."
Joe took off the goggles. "There are anecdotal reports of that happening, but no one"s been able to bring that about in any kind of controlled circ.u.mstances."He paused at Monica"s closet, where there was a stack of sketches on the upper shelf. He picked up the drawings and looked at them.
"What are those?"Bonafas asked.
"Sketches that Monica made. They"re a lot like the ones she drew at the crime scenes, but these-"Joe studied them. "These are different."
"Different?"
"These look more polished, and yet the backgrounds are all wrong. It"s almost as if-"
"What?"
"Hmmm. I"ll have to take these with me."Joe put them on the bed. He picked up a pair of black plastic headphones, flipped a power switch, and adjusted the gain control.
Bonafas smiled broadly. "I used to wear a set of "phones like that when I was a kid, stayin"up all night listening to Deep Purple."
"Not like this. This detects high-frequency sounds like radio waves and RF control signals and converts them to sounds I can hear."Joe put on the headphones.
"What could that tell you?"
Joe adjusted the gain control. "It tells me that you"re wearing a digital watch."
Bonafas lifted his sleeve to reveal an inexpensive LCD wrist.w.a.tch."You can actually hear it?"
"Your watch, the refrigeration unit on the minibar, and the bathroom lightbulbs."Joe c.o.c.ked his head. "But nothing else, I"m afraid."He took off the headphones."I"ll go over the room with some of my other equipment later, but I want the fingerprint guys to pa.s.s through first."
"Got it. Until you tell me otherwise, no one gets in here without a badge."
"This Bailey guy has some pretty cool gear. He might be able to teach us us a thing or two."Paul adjusted his parabolic microphone and glanced back at Haddenfield, Gary, and Donna. They were on the fourth level of the Flesher Pharmaceuticals parking structure, directly across the street from Monica Gaines"s hotel room. Paul leaned out the van with his microphone, recording the details of Joe Bailey"s initial sweep of the room. The audio had been channeled to a small speaker for the others to hear. a thing or two."Paul adjusted his parabolic microphone and glanced back at Haddenfield, Gary, and Donna. They were on the fourth level of the Flesher Pharmaceuticals parking structure, directly across the street from Monica Gaines"s hotel room. Paul leaned out the van with his microphone, recording the details of Joe Bailey"s initial sweep of the room. The audio had been channeled to a small speaker for the others to hear.
Haddenfield nodded. "Bailey"s a sharp guy. We should monitor him. He could make our jobs a little easier."
"Our jobs?"Donna asked."Aren"t they pretty much over?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Gaines is out of commission. A toasted Ry-Krisp. She"s not going to be doing much of anything for a while, except maybe shuffling off this mortal coil to a place I have no intention of going for a long, long time."
Haddenfield"s face was taut. "There are still questions to be answered."
Gary frowned. "Answered by us? us?This is a little different than the a.s.signment I was given. Whatever happened to Monica Gaines tonight, we"re moving into foreign territory. None of us have any experience dealing with this."
"n.o.body has, Gary. Which is why it"s so important."Haddenfield spotted a uniformed security officer steering a white golf cart on the other side of the garage."Okay, everybody, let"s move to the other loca-tion. We got everything we need here."
Joe picked up Nikki from Wanda Patterson"s apartment, where he"d hastily left her when the call about Monica Gaines came in. Wanda was a successful sculptor who lived down the hall, and Nikki occasionally earned extra money walking her dog. Nikki was silent as they walked back to their apartment.
"You"re usually talking a mile a minute when you leave Wanda"s place,"Joe said."Is everything okay?"
"You had to go because of Monica Gaines, didn"t you?"
"Yes."
"We heard what happened to her. It was on the news. Is she going to die?"
"I don"t know, honey."
They entered their apartment, and Nikki walked quickly toward her room.
"Hold on,"Joe said.
"I"m tired."She strode into her room and closed the door behind her.
Joe pushed her door open. "Not so fast. Are you still mad that I wouldn"t let you go to the concert?"
"No. Janey"s and Giselle"s moms wouldn"t let them go either."
"Then what"s wrong?"
She plopped down on her bed. "What happened to Monica Gaines?"
"I don"t know, honey. We"re trying to figure that out. She was burned pretty badly."
"Why can"t someone else figure it out?"
"Maybe someone else will. But the detectives need my help, and I think I should do what I can to find out what happened to her."
"It"s not really evil spirits, is it?"
"Where did you hear that?"
"It was on the news. They were interviewing her TV producer in Canada, and she said that Monica thought maybe bad spirits killed the other people here."
Joe sighed. Christ, the media would go nuts over this one. "Sweetie, even if you believe in spirits, there has never been a doc.u.mented case of one hurting anybody."
"Well, you don"t believe there"s been a doc.u.mented case of a spirit period period."
"It doesn"t mean I wouldn"t love to be the first to find one."
"Maybe you should call Suzanne. She"s good at this kind of stuff."
Joe nodded. He knew that Nikki missed Suzanne. h.e.l.l, he hemissed Suzanne. They"d dated earlier in the year, but things had gotten complicated. After the way he"d bailed on their relationship, he wasn"t sure she"d ever want to see him again.
Nikki wrinkled her nose. "Just call her."
Joe suddenly glanced away. "I"ll think about it."
She studied him."I just did it again, didn"t I?"
"What?"
"I did something that reminded you of Mommy."
He smiled. "I"m beginning to think you you"re a psychic. How did you know?" a psychic. How did you know?"
"You always get the same look. Kind of happy and sad at the same time. What did I do?"
He hesitated before replying. "You twisted your nose in a way that your mother used to. I"ve never seen you do that before. As you get older, you"re more and more like her."
Nikki sighed."I miss her."
"Me too, honey."He kissed her forehead. G.o.d, if only Angela were here. More than anything in the world, she"d wanted to watch Nikki grow up. As the cancer ate at her system, Angela"s ever-retreating bargains with the almighty centered on her wishes to see Nikki finish college, then high school, then her sixteenth birthday. Nikki was eight when her mother finally slipped away, still angry and confused at being taken from her family so soon. There was no peace, no n.o.bility in her death, just tragic, devastating loss.
"Did Mommy worry about your police work?"
"Sometimes, but she thought what I was doing was important."
"I think it"s important too."
"I"m glad. Then you understand why I have to do this?"
Nikki nodded. "Yeah. You have to find who tried to kill Monica Gaines. If you don"t, they could hurt someone else."
"That"s right."He stared at her. She was trying so hard to be brave, but he could see she was worried. With good reason. During his only other homicide investigation, she"d watched a man die only a few feet from her. She was probably thinking of him now.
"It"ll be okay, honey."He leaned down and kissed her on the end of her nose. He whispered, "I promise."
Shawn Dylan strode past the intensive care unit nurses"station, letting his white lab coat billow behind him like a long cape. He"d adopted the arrogant swagger of an "I-am-your-G.o.d"medical doctor, and no one seemed to be paying him any attention.
Perfect. Monica Gaines had been there only a few hours, and the nurses on duty had no reason to suspect that he didn"t belong there. By tomorrow, there would be systems in place that would make such a visit difficult-an established routine, an a.s.signed medical team, a private guard, or even a police officer nearby. As it was, the only police presence was corralling the television news reporters outside the main entrance downstairs.
Dylan had heard about Monica"s accident just as almost everyone else had-from the television news. How had things gotten so hopelessly f.u.c.ked up? He should have stayed closer. No, he couldn"t blame himself.
He stepped into her room in the ICU. Most of Monica"s torso and half of her face was covered in white bandages. He studied the pulse-ox monitor in the manner of a real doctor, then leaned over her.
"Monica,"he whispered.
No response. Probably on some major meds.
"Monica?"
Her eyes opened, and her monitored pulse rate quickened.
"I"ve been worried."He checked to make sure no one was watching from the corridor. "I never would have wanted this to happen, Monica. We have to get you away from here."
"Hurts ...hurts so much,"she whispered.
"I have something I need to finish here first. It may take a few days. In the meantime, you are to say nothing about our purpose here. Do you understand?"