“I just did. All Marge knows is that yesterday evening someone tricked Olivia into getting into a black car, an SUV of some kind. No license plates. There were two people in the car. She thinks she saw one of them use a syringe to inject some drug into Olivia. That’s it. That’s all Marge could tell me.”
“She thinks she saw one of them inject Ms. LeClair with a drug? That’s interesting.”
“The problem with Marge as a witness is that she interprets everything through her own personal conspiracy theory. In her world the bad people are all from a planet named Riverview and they use drugs to subdue their victims.”
Slater looked interested. “Any idea how she picked up the specifics of her theory?”
“Sure, Olivia and I did a little research. Turns out Riverview is the name of the psychiatric hospital where Marge was incarcerated for a couple of years. The doctors used a lot of drugs on her in an attempt to rid her of her fantasies.”
“What kind of fantasies?”
Catalina pulled up her steeliest smile. “Marge is considered crazy because she sees auras.”
“Does she have a connection to Fogg Lake?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Statistically speaking, there is a small percentage of the population with a naturally occurring sixth sense. Over the years a lot of people have claimed to see auras or tried to invent gadgets to read energy fields. The experts at the Foundation believe that some psychic ability is probably a latent talent in many people, but no one knows what is required to kick-start it.”
“You mean it takes something like what happened to the residents of Fogg Lake on the night of the explosion in the caves.”
“Evidently. Whatever the case, if you don’t grow up in a community that takes psychic ability as normal, it’s difficult to learn how to control your talent and even harder to figure out how to pass for normal. Sounds like your friend Marge never got the hang of it.”
“Sadly, no.”
“Let’s go talk to her.”
CHAPTER 7
Tony Harkins yanked open the door of the black SUV and vaulted into the passenger seat. He slammed the door, wiped the sweat off his face and pulled a bottle of water out of the console.
“Almost had her,” he said. He gulped some of the water and lowered the bottle. “But for some reason she suddenly turned and shot off in another direction.”
Deke eased the vehicle away from the curb and out into traffic. “We knew it was a long shot trying to grab her on a busy street. Think she picked up on you?”
Tony reflected briefly on the abrupt way Catalina Lark had veered off to the right when he had come up beside her.
“Nah. Pretty sure she saw someone she knew and changed course to meet him.”
“Did you see the guy?”
“I got a quick look at him just before I turned the corner. Probably a boyfriend.”
“We need to get her but we can’t risk another near miss. She’s got some talent, like the other one. Sooner or later she’ll figure out what’s going on.”
“Relax, we’ll pick up Lark tonight or tomorrow. How hard can it be to grab a single woman in Seattle?”
“No more spur-of-the-moment shit,” Deke said. “We need a real plan, because we have to get it right next time. There’s a lot of money at stake here.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.” Tony drank some more water. “Score of a lifetime.”
“Think Lark will recognize you if she sees you again?”
“I doubt it. But so what if she does? I’m just a guy who happened to be out for a run. If she sees me again she’ll assume that I live somewhere in the neighborhood. No big deal.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Maybe the easiest way to handle this is a straight-up introduction,” Deke said. “You intercept her, tell her you’re new in town and that you saw her on the street today when you went for a run. Ask her for the name of a place that does a good happy hour in the area. You invite her to have a drink with you. You put the drug in her glass.”
Tony gave that some thought. He smiled.
“The old game,” he said.
“It always worked in the past. No reason it wouldn’t work again.”
“It worked because we were careful to pick the right targets,” Tony said. “Don’t forget, Lark is not a normal. We don’t have any idea how strong she is.”
“The drug worked just fine on LeClair. No reason it won’t work on Lark. You just need to get close enough to give her a dose. That will take care of her senses, whatever they are, for a few hours.”
“Or maybe a few days,” Tony said. “Olivia LeClair was still out of it when we took her to the pickup location. I think we used too much. If she doesn’t wake up, the client is going to be pissed.”
“So we’ll cut back a little on the dose we give Lark,” Deke said.
He brought the SUV to a halt at a stoplight. He smiled in anticipation of the action.
Tony met his brother’s eyes in the mirror, eyes that were the exact same shade of blue. There was no bond like the bond that existed between identical siblings.
CHAPTER 8
Marge was still huddled in her alcove, seated atop the bedroll. There was another empty soda can on the ground beside her.
When she saw Catalina and Slater coming toward her, she stiffened.
“It’s all right, Marge,” Catalina said. She went forward quickly. “This is Slater Arganbright. He’s going to help me look for Olivia.”
Marge fixed Slater with an assessing gaze. “Huh.”
Slater ignored the less-than-encouraging greeting. He crouched in front of Marge so that he was face-to-face with her.
“I would appreciate your help, ma’am,” Slater said. “I’m after the people who kidnapped Olivia but I don’t have much to go on. I could really use a good description of the men who drove off with Ms. LeClair.”
Catalina was relieved that he was speaking to Marge in a calm, professional manner, as if she were a normal person.
Marge studied him for a long moment. “Never seen anyone like you. That’s some weird energy you’ve got goin’ on.”
“So I’ve been told,” Slater said.
Marge accepted that and let it go.
“Not much I can tell you,” she said. “Couple of clones from Riverview grabbed Olivia and shot her full of some crap. She went to sleep real quick. They took her away. They’ve got this secret research lab where they do experiments on people.”
Catalina stifled a sigh. Marge was evidently about to launch into her conspiracy theory.
Slater was unfazed.
“Tell me more about the clones,” Slater said. “Were they male or female?”
Marge perked up a little at the question. Probably because Slater seemed to be taking her seriously, Catalina thought.
“Male,” Marge said. “One in the back seat. One in front. Didn’t see the clone in back until Olivia tried to get out of the car. He reached out to haul her back inside. That’s when I got a quick look at him. Got a glimpse of the driver at the same time. It was the one in back who used the needle on her. Poor Olivia is going to wake up in hell.”
“Not if we find her first,” Slater said. “You’re sure the two men in the car were clones?”
“Didn’t get a good look at their faces, but I saw their auras. No two auras are one hundred percent identical, but those two were so close most folks would have a tough time telling them apart.”
“Twins,” Slater said quietly.
Catalina glanced at him, startled. She turned back to Marge. “Are you saying the two men who grabbed Olivia were identical twins?”
“If they were human you could call ’em twins,” Marge said. “But those two weren’t human. They’re from Riverview. That makes ’em clones.”
Time to give Slater some
credit, Catalina thought. Two minutes into the interview with Marge and he had already extracted a description that might prove extremely valuable.
“What else did you see in the energy fields of the two people in the car?” Slater asked.
Marge eyed him. “You see energy fields, too?”
“Yes,” Slater said. “Not the way you do, but yes, I can sense them.”
Marge nodded with a sage expression. “Right. You’re one of the cleaners from the Foundation, aren’t you?”
Catalina could have sworn her jaw dropped. “You know about the Foundation?”
“Met someone at that secret lab the Riverview bastards operate,” Marge said. “Another captive. He talked about it. I remember he told me that if the people from the Foundation found out we’d been kidnapped they’d send the cleaners to rescue us. No one ever showed up to get us out of that place, though, so I figured he was just another crazy. But a while back Olivia told me Catalina was working for a client from Las Vegas. She said he ran a Foundation that understood people like me.”
“There’s a lot about people like you and me and Catalina that the Foundation still doesn’t understand,” Slater said. “But we’re working on it.” He took a card out of his pocket and handed it to Marge. “If you get kidnapped again and taken to Riverview or anywhere else that you don’t want to be, you make sure you tell whoever works there that they have to call that number. The cleaners will come and get you.”
Marge looked dubious. “What if the clones won’t make the phone call?”
Slater smiled coldly. “You tell them that as soon as Catalina and Olivia figure out that you’re missing, they’ll make the phone call. And if that happens, the folks at Riverview will find themselves dealing with a lawsuit as well as the cleaners. Trust me, someone will make that call.”
“Okay,” Marge said. She studied the card, her lips moving silently. Then she nodded once, satisfied. “Got a pretty good memory for numbers. But just in case, I’ll keep this card handy.”
She tucked it under her knit hat.
“Anything else I should know about the clones who took Olivia?” Slater asked.
“That big car they were driving looked real new,” Marge said. She shrugged. “And the one who used the needle on Olivia knew what he was doing. Expect he’d done it before. That tell you anything?”
“It tells me I’m dealing with professionals,” Slater said.
“Exactly,” Marge said. “Talent like that doesn’t come cheap. Takes money to set up an operation slick enough to make a woman vanish without a trace.”
“Money and resources,” Slater said. “You’re right, Marge, this has all the hallmarks of a sophisticated operation.”
Catalina looked at Slater and then at Marge. Somewhere along the line they both appeared to have forgotten about her. The whole thing felt a little unreal but there was no getting around the reality of what had just happened. A stranger with a very weird aura had immediately been able to establish communication with a homeless woman whose psychic senses had been scrambled by drugs.
Marge eyed Slater. “Has your energy always been like it is now?”
“You know how it is, Marge—you can’t see your own aura,” Slater said. “But people have told me that mine was always a little different. Six months ago it got a lot different because something happened to me.”
Marge squinted knowingly. “The clones used drugs on you?”
“Radiation.”
“Yeah? What kind?”
“I have no idea.”
Marge nodded. “Changed you, though.”
“Evidently,” Slater said.
“What are you now?”
“Still trying to figure it out,” Slater said.
CHAPTER 9
Talk to me, Arganbright,” Catalina said. “I want to know everything you know.”
Slater considered how and where to begin. It wasn’t easy to concentrate on her question, because he was still adjusting to the effect she was having on his senses. When they had slammed into each other on the street a short time ago it was as if he had been plunged straight into the heart of a different version of the “Sleeping Beauty” fairy tale. In this story he was the sleeper, and he had been awakened not by a kiss but by the electrifying energy of Catalina’s fierce aura.
Or maybe this wasn’t some psychic edition of “Sleeping Beauty.” Maybe this story had more in common with Frankenstein. That would make him the monster. Marge’s question whispered through him. What are you now?
They were less than a block away from the offices of Lark & LeClair, walking quickly. After leaving Marge, Catalina had said very little. He knew she was trying to figure out what the hell to do about him.
He had been warned that she was going to be a problem. What he hadn’t realized until the moment she walked into his arms was that she would prove to be an exciting problem.
He had known that she was smart. Victor had also made it clear that she was a strong talent and that she was in full control.
He studied her now, trying not to be obvious about it. She was no longer using her psychic senses, so her aura was not as fiery as it had been when they had slammed into each other. But the fact that her energy field was calm did not diminish the effect she had on him.
He was just as intensely aware of her vibe now as he had been earlier when they had collided on the street. The difference was that without the distraction of her intoxicating aura he was aware of other, more subtle things—the rich, lustrous brown of her tightly bound hair; the cool challenge in her green eyes; the aloof image projected by the black trench coat and low black boots.
He was intrigued, curious, fascinated, thrilled to be this close to her.
“I’m sorry I got here too late to save Olivia LeClair,” he said.
Catalina shot him a somber, searching look. “Do you know who took Olivia and why?”
“I don’t have any solid answers for you. Just a theory.”
“That’s more than I’ve got. Talk fast, Arganbright.”
“Three days ago a collector named Royston was murdered. The circumstances of his death are similar to those of the Ingram murder.”
“Ingram was the victim in the case your uncle asked me to investigate.”
“Right. Both of the victims were known to be eccentric and secretive. Both were obsessed with acquiring objects with a paranormal provenance. Victor is convinced the deaths are related. He believes someone is looking for a particular artifact.”
“What artifact?” Catalina asked.
“We don’t know, but Ingram and Royston were both known to be obsessed with objects linked to what may have been the old Fogg Lake lab.”
“What makes you think Olivia’s kidnapping is linked to the murders?”
“I don’t like coincidences, and it would be a hell of a coincidence if your friend, who has a very specific connection to Fogg Lake, just happened to get kidnapped three days after Royston’s murder.”
Catalina caught her breath. “You think that whoever killed Royston found what he was searching for and then went after Olivia.”
“It’s more than that. If I’m right, it’s all connected to the murder you and Olivia witnessed fifteen years ago.”
Startled, she looked at him and then quickly glanced away. “You know about that?”
“Rumors of murder have a way of leaking out. The story of a couple of Fogg Lake kids who thought they witnessed a killing made it into the Foundation files. It was noted because one of the Foundation researchers disappeared right around the time of the murder. His name was John Morrissey. His body was never found.”
“Was there a Foundation investigation?”
“The Foundation was under different . . . management at the time.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” Catalina made a face. “Rancourt was still in charge in those days. Yo
ur uncle didn’t take over until, what? Five years ago?”
“Victor was appointed director of the Foundation five years ago. He is well aware that his predecessor left a legacy of distrust.”
“No shit.”
“Out of curiosity, is ‘no shit’ your default mode?”
“It seems to be today,” Catalina said. “Believe it or not, until this morning my language was a little more refined.”
“I’ll take your word for it. As I was saying, at the time of the Fogg Lake murder, Stenson Rancourt was in charge of the Foundation. He more or less inherited the job from his father.”
“Everyone in Fogg Lake knows that the Rancourts were no better than a mob family. They used the Foundation to make millions. Billions, probably.”
“Things are different now,” Slater said.
“Sure.”
“Moving right along, due to Stenson Rancourt’s lack of interest in Morrissey’s disappearance, the investigation was minimal. It went nowhere.”
“And yet,” Catalina said, “Olivia and I still wound up in a Foundation file.”
“I’m afraid so.” Slater hesitated, telling himself that he should probably shut up now. But Catalina deserved some answers. “That did not happen under Rancourt’s regime. You and Olivia landed in the files because Victor has begun an effort to identify everyone who might have some connection to the old Bluestone Project. The people of Fogg Lake and their descendants are of particular interest to him.”
“I’ve got news for your uncle—we don’t want his attention.”
“Try to put your animosity aside for thirty seconds and consider the facts on the ground. Your friend has been kidnapped and there is every reason to believe her disappearance is connected to something that happened in Fogg Lake fifteen years ago. Do you really think regular law enforcement has a chance in hell of finding her before it’s too late?”
Catalina clutched the strap of her handbag with the determination of a patient about to undergo a tooth extraction without the benefit of an anesthetic.
“No,” she said.
They had reached the entrance of the office building that housed Lark & LeClair. He opened the door for Catalina and followed her into the small lobby and then into the elevator.
The Vanishing Page 8