by Kay Hooper
Jonah heeded the warning and didn’t question her about that. All he said was, “Are any of the four of you born psychics?”
“I am,” Luke said. “Though I didn’t know about it in the earliest years of my life.”
“Sometimes,” Samantha murmured, “we’re latent as children, born with . . . possibilities. The abilities are there, often full-blown, but we don’t know about them unless and until we experience some kind of trigger.”
Jonah glanced at Lucas but didn’t ask. “Okay. Anybody else?”
“Robbie is. And she was aware of being different pretty much as soon as she could understand the concept.”
“That must have been . . . difficult,” Jonah ventured.
“Most of us don’t exactly look back on rosy childhoods,” Samantha said matter-of-factly. “One way or another, these abilities can and usually do put us through hell.”
Lucas exchanged a look with his wife, then said to Jonah, “Both Robbie and I are able to tap into very specific energy signatures. Unlike Sam and Dante, who have more diverse abilities, we tend to focus very narrowly in order to use our abilities effectively.
“Robbie’s a telepath, able to read about half the people she encounters, at least when she does her version of dropping her shields. That’s a high average; most telepaths are lucky if they can read a quarter or less of those around them.”
“And you?” Jonah asked after a moment.
Luke said, “What I am doesn’t really have a name. It’s partly telepathic and partly empathic. What I do is home in on the specific electromagnetic energy signature of fear.”
“And his specialty,” Sam said, “is finding lost people.”
“People who are afraid,” her partner and husband said. “People who are in pain. Even before I joined the FBI and the SCU, I was using my abilities to find lost people, though in those days I barely had any control at all. I’m better now, thanks to Sam and the SCU.” He paused, but instead of elaborating on that, he added steadily, “But I can’t find people who don’t want to be found. And I can’t find the dead, at least not by using my psychic abilities.”
Jonah asked slowly, “Do you feel the difference? I mean, would you know if the missing person just didn’t want to be found—or was dead?”
“Sometimes.”
“Then—”
But Luke was shaking his head. “No, I haven’t picked up anything here, not so far.”
“What does that mean?”
“Maybe nothing. We haven’t been to all the sites yet. I haven’t been here long enough to get a sense of the place, and I usually need to do that. And . . . I’ve never been able to read anything, feel anything, from people who are drugged or otherwise unconscious.”
“Unless they’re having nightmares,” Sam reminded him quietly.
“Yeah. I do pick up on nightmares sometimes. But like any other psychic, I have abilities that are limited. People often mask or suppress their fear, especially men. I’m less likely to tap into those people. Like all the other psychics in the unit, my abilities also limit themselves, and no matter how much I practice, how hard I try, how hard I push, I can’t get past those boundaries. There are some people I just can’t read, no matter how much pain they’re in or how afraid they are.”
“That must be tough,” Jonah said finally.
“Yeah,” Luke said. “It is.”
—
WHEN THEY REACHED the site where the judge disappeared, Sam hesitated, then said, “I think I’ll wait here by the Jeep. I want to see if any of you sense something. I think I distracted everybody at the first site.”
Jonah was reasonably sure she had—and before any of them had reached what he and Sarah believed was the perimeter of . . . whatever it was. He had also noticed that only Robbie was wearing a watch—nondigital, like his own—and he really wanted to know if her watch would stop.
“I’ll hang back too,” he told the others. “We bagged the judge’s chair, rod, and tackle box, but you can see where he always sits. Couple yards from the water just to the left of that wooden stake there at the edge. It’s where he always ties his catch, and nobody ever moves it. Not even kids trying to be funny.”
“Well, he’s a judge,” Sam murmured. She watched the others move toward the stream, in a line parallel to the stream rather than in a group, and said to Jonah, “What is it you expect them to find?”
“Whatever’s there,” he replied promptly.
Sam sent him a look. “That was a very Bishop-like answer. You two don’t know each other, do you?”
“I’ve only talked to him on the phone,” Jonah replied honestly. He kept his gaze on the agents moving toward the stream. “You said before that you sensed something dark and hungry. You ever sense anything like that before?”
“Not exactly like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . evil is always dark in some way. Always . . . hungry, grasping. Once you sense it, touch it . . . it’s familiar. Even if it’s not quite the same as before.”
“So what you sensed back there is evil?”
“Yeah.”
Jonah started to ask her to elaborate, but then the three agents approaching the stream stopped suddenly. Robbie, in the middle, lifted both her hands and slowly moved them as if she felt some kind of barrier. Luke and Dante were both looking at her, and both were wearing frowns.
They were almost exactly six yards away from where the judge always parked his chair.
“Shit,” Jonah breathed.
“Energy bubble?” Sam’s voice was remarkably calm.
“You tell me.”
Still calm, Sam said, “You knew whatever that is had a defined perimeter, didn’t you? How?”
“That,” Jonah said, “depends on whether the watch Robbie is wearing has stopped.”
“Energy affects electronics,” Sam said, more considering than surprised. “Some places hold on to energy. So do some people. We have an agent who blows out every lightbulb in a room if she gets upset and drops her shield.”
Steady himself, Jonah said, “All I know is that watches stop—and cell phones lose time.”
Samantha didn’t even appear startled. “How much time?”
“Far as I can tell, all the time you spend inside that perimeter.”
“There’s one at the site of every disappearance?”
Suddenly struck, he said, “All except the Tyler house. There are several clocks in that kitchen. Oven, microwave, even a plain old wall clock. They looked fine. My watch didn’t stop. And I don’t remember my cell losing time. Why didn’t I notice that?” He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his Windbreaker and looked at it, compared it to his watch.
Sam waited until he put the phone away again, swearing under his breath, then said, “You didn’t notice because last night a little girl was taken. Kids always hit us the hardest.”
He nodded. “Even those of us who aren’t parents. Yeah, it’s something I’ve noticed before. Though, thankfully, I haven’t had to go through it many times.”
Sam turned her head and looked at him, brows lifting in a silent question.
“No, it wasn’t here. I trained to be a cop in Nashville, and worked there a few years before I came back here. Plus, I’ve taken advantage of things the FBI has offered, from seminars to being temporarily attached to federal task forces around the country.”
“Including child abductions?”
“Yeah. After three different cases, I decided I didn’t want to be a part of those particular task forces again. Though I have taken part in others over the years.” He shrugged. “It’s a small town, and I love it here, but it isn’t—usually—the best place to keep a cop’s instincts sharp.”
Sam nodded. “I get it. And points to you for taking the time and trouble. A lot of small-town police chiefs wouldn’t
bother. Not their circus, not their monkeys.”
Jonah smiled faintly but said only, “I want to be a good cop. Besides, I enjoy a challenge. Usually.” He returned his attention to the stream, where Robbie was slowly walking what appeared to be the perimeter of energy—or whatever it was. She didn’t go into the stream, so she walked a half circle on the stream’s wide bank.
The two men didn’t follow but stood watching her intently.
“They can’t sense it?” Jonah asked Samantha.
“Luke doesn’t pick up energy from places or things, just people. As for Dante, he could probably sense it if he dropped his shields. Most mediums tend to be pretty good barometers for negative energy. But it can be dangerous for them.”
“How?”
“Mediums open doors,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “Depending on your belief system and experience, those doors lead to a spirit realm, another dimension, maybe even another time. Hell, maybe all three. But wherever or whenever it is, what’s usually waiting on the other side of those doors and eager to come through them is energy of some kind. Sometimes human. Sometimes not. And very few mediums can control whatever comes through those doors. Negative energy is very destructive.”
“Is that what took my missing people? Negative energy?”
“I doubt it,” she replied. “What Robbie’s sensing, what affected your watches and cell phone is probably residual energy from a very bad person or people. Or evil acts committed. That’s what usually creates negative energy. Or makes energy negative.”
“You’ve lost me,” Jonah confessed.
“Well, I’m not the scientific type, but one thing I’ve learned is the law of physics most of us have to cope with in some way, and on a fairly regular basis. Energy can’t be destroyed, only transformed. With the right conduit, otherwise harmless energy can be turned dark, negative. The right conduit tends to be an evil person, an evil act, or an evil force.”
She frowned. “But the energy here has lingered, hasn’t it? The judge vanished over two weeks ago. The teenagers more than three weeks. I would have thought the energy would have dissipated by now. Especially since it’s outside.”
Jonah didn’t even know what questions to ask next, so he was more than a little relieved when the other three agents rejoined them at the Jeep. Samantha immediately told them about watches and cell phones, about what had been different at the Tyler house, and then asked Robbie what she had sensed.
“Definitely energy. My watch stopped. And—” She pulled a cell phone in an unusual rubberized case from her pocket and looked at it, then reached over for Jonah’s arm and calmly compared her cell to his watch. “That look about right to you? We were down there about ten minutes?” she asked him.
“I think so.”
“Time lost. That’s a new one.” She released Jonah’s arm and returned her cell to her pocket.
Luke was frowning as he looked at her. “You didn’t say if it was negative energy.”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t drop my shields,” she told him. “What I felt through them was too strong to risk doing that. I’m a receiver, remember?”
“Is that a . . . special kind of telepath?” Jonah asked.
“It’s a matter of degree,” she told him. “Most telepaths have to drop their shields and then focus, concentrate. I drop my shields and it all just comes rushing in.”
“All what?”
“The thoughts of roughly half the people within about a hundred yards of me,” she replied. “Like a loud party suddenly erupting in the next room. A lot of noise, but nothing makes sense.” She shrugged. “So I never completely drop my shields if I can help it. I just . . . open a little window. When I have to.”
“During a case.”
“Yeah, usually. Or in the lab. We’re constantly working to learn better control, or figure out if there’s a different way to use our abilities. I just . . . don’t like trying to pick up someone’s thoughts if it isn’t necessary. It’s an invasion of privacy.” Her chin firmed somewhat stubbornly.
Sam said, “Some of our telepaths feel the same, though not all of them. And some clairvoyants, like me, hesitate to touch objects we know were part of or near a scene of violence. Those headaches and nosebleeds, remember?”
Jonah had a strangely surreal moment when he realized he was discussing with four federal agents psychic abilities he had never believed in.
Until now.
—
IT DIDN’T TAKE them long at all to check out the courtyard of the complex where Luna Lang vanished—and to find a smaller energy “bubble” there as well. Just in the security cameras’ blind spot.
A bubble where time was lost.
Jonah wasn’t positive but believed the bubble was the same size it had been when Mrs. Lang had disappeared. There was some discussion about experimenting by having one or the other of them stand in the bubble, both to find out if they picked up anything unusual and to see if time continued to be lost.
But Lucas was reluctant to subject any of his team to a paranormal event they didn’t understand—yet—so he elected to leave the area be. It wasn’t roped off by crime scene tape, but there were several orange cones marking the area, all with signs stuck in them saying PLEASE WALK AROUND.
“Does that work?” Luke asked the chief.
“Not sure. I had one of my uniforms stand watch for the first couple of days—with orders to stand back and within the existing security camera’s view at all times. He reported nothing unusual, and also that the residents of the complex were giving this whole area a wide berth. No teenagers live here, just small kids being watched very closely by parents or nannies, and when the complex manager told me they were continuing to install more security cameras, including that one”—he pointed to one up high, which very obviously covered this entire area—“I decided the cones would be enough to keep people away. So far, so good.”
Sam said, “One thing about nervous fear, it does a lot to minimize curiosity. Or at least keep it internalized.”
So that was settled.
Jonah had called ahead so that the downtown theater owner, Kent Ferguson, was there to unlock the front door and let them in at this odd afternoon hour.
“Is the downtown area always this deserted on a Wednesday afternoon?” Luke asked.
“Not quite this deserted, even though several of the stores follow an old tradition and close up around noon on Wednesdays. But since these disappearances, there isn’t a lot of loitering to pass the time. People get out, go to work or do whatever else they have to do, and then go home, in broad daylight if possible, and with company. We’ve suggested everybody buddy up, not just the kids, and most are taking the advice to heart.”
“Curfew?”
“Midnight. Another strong suggestion, even though most had already set their own curfews—considerably earlier. I’m sure Kent will mention that.”
And the theater owner did, the instant he swung the door open for them. “Jonah, when are things going to get back to normal around here? I can’t sell enough tickets to even bother with popcorn.”
Jonah was tempted to say something about the little girl who had vanished the night before, but he’d been at this job too long to lose his temper that easily.
“We’re working on it, Kent,” he said, calm. “Do you mind turning up the house lights in the theater and waiting for us here in the lobby?”
“Sure, sure. Anything if it’ll help . . .” He didn’t repeat his earlier complaint, perhaps realizing just how it sounded. Just bustled off and left Jonah to lead the way into the theater.
“Sorry I didn’t introduce you,” he told the agents. “But trust me when I say you’re better off when Kent doesn’t know your name.”
“We have thick skins,” Lucas said absently as they stood in the aisle and looked around the theater. “Two doors back here, two emergency exits d
own front.”
“Yeah,” Jonah said. “And everyone who noticed him said that Sean Messina left for the lobby through the door on this side. The one we just came through.” Realizing, he added, “And no bubble of energy here. Or did I miss it?”
“No,” Lucas said. “You didn’t miss it. There isn’t one, as far as I can tell. Interesting. And you said the Tyler house was the same. So, the open areas hold the energy while the enclosed ones don’t.”
Half under his breath, Jonah muttered, “Why do I think that’s a very bad sign.” It wasn’t a question.
Robbie took a step back and turned to eye that entrance/exit. “The door has that dark little vestibule thing so people coming in or going out don’t spill light into the dark theater. So if he did go out this door, that’s really the only blind spot before the lobby cameras would have picked him up. What’s that, about twelve square feet?”
“Less,” Jonah said. “There was a couple in the back row here—another young couple—and they both knew Sean and his girlfriend. They swear whatever scene happened to be playing on the screen just then was bright enough so they saw him, recognized him, even waved to him. They said he used that door. But he never went through the door into the lobby, at least not according to the cameras.”
“Just vanished into thin air,” Luke said. “But no change in energy for the area. We all walked through that space just now, and I don’t think any of us picked up anything out of the ordinary. Did we?”
The other three agents shook their heads.
“I’m going to go out on a limb,” Luke said, “and guess we won’t have a reaction at the Tyler house either, especially since Jonah noted the clocks weren’t affected. Whatever happened to these people, an energy signature was left behind only outside.”
“Which,” Samantha said, “is very, very strange.”
SIX
When they left the theater, they split up, with Dante and Robbie getting the key from Jonah and going to start unloading the SUV and setting up their temporary command center, and Luke and Sam going with Jonah to the Tyler house.