“Uh, I didn’t mean to qualify it,” Matt said, stammering a bit. He chewed on his lip as he considered unloading all the strange info he had just learned. “I just like to keep my options open. But from what I saw, there was nothing you or anyone else could have done to save him. Wrong place, wrong time.”
Matt held back the threads of information that John and Felicia had given him. He feared the young woman’s fragile mental state couldn’t handle the possibility that her dreams were connected to an unhinged man with telekinetic powers.
“Maybe something small could have saved him. Even the smallest action can have far-reaching consequences, right?” Her eyes looked hopeful.
“I wouldn’t think about it like that if I were you, Grace. Unless you had known the exact date, time, and location where the accident happened, you couldn’t have changed the outcome.”
Grace bowed her head in thought.
“I hope this is okay, but I showed your sketch to my brother. He’s a cop. So maybe he can help us find this guy from the second sketch.”
“No, that’s fine,” Grace replied. “If you do find him, can you let me meet him?”
“Why?”
“I feel like these dreams are a message that I’m responsible to bring to him.”
“You still think this is some kind of message from God?”
“I don’t know. But I feel connected to him, now. I’d like to meet him.”
“Well, if we find him, I’ll introduce you, okay?” He felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t told her that maybe they had already identified the man in her dreams. When they had a positive ID, then he’d tell her. That was the responsible thing to do.
“Did you get in touch with Julia Driscoll, yet?” Matt asked, intentionally changing the subject.
“Yes. I’m meeting with her later today.” Grace appeared neutral about this development.
“That’s great. I think she’ll really help you.”
Grace nodded and her expression retained the same dour, forlorn look from their first meeting, even as she dispensed her next fact.
“I met someone else who’s had dreams like me.”
“You met them? Where?”
“This online forum for people who’ve experienced paranormal activities.”
Normally, Matt would have dismissed the kind of people who frequented such websites as crackpots or attention seekers. But the last few days had at least partially suspended his disbelief. At this point, if someone came into his office professing to have seen Bigfoot, he would have listened.
“He lives in the City. I’m going to meet him tonight.” Grace uttered the words flatly as if her planned course of action was sensible.
“Hold on.” Matt sat up straight in his chair and leaned toward Grace. “Did you really say that you just met some man online and now you’re going to meet him in person? Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“I know how it sounds, but if there’s someone else out there like me, I need to talk to him.”
Matt frowned. “He could be conning you.”
“He’s not conning me. It was my idea to meet.”
“The best cons make you feel like it’s your idea and not theirs.”
“He didn’t even know where I lived or that we lived close to each other.” Grace’s tone ticked up a notch.
“Don’t be so sure, Grace. For tech-savvy people, you’d be amazed at what they can learn about you online.”
“I didn’t even use my name. Look, he sent me a picture.” Grace retrieved her cell from the purse and flipped through various apps. “See, does this look like someone who’s trying to trick me?”
“I can’t even believe you’re trying to make that kind of defense,” Matt said as he checked out the photo of a thin, graying man with salt and pepper stubble marking his unsmiling face. A scrawny black dog with semi-erect ears sat next to the man. “Well, he’s not trying to impress you. Unless he’s trying to soften his image with the dog. Though, it’s kind of an ugly dog.”
“I’m going. I have to go.”
Matt puffed out his cheeks and exhaled. “Look, if you insist on meeting this strange man, at least let me go with you.”
“No offense, but you’re kind of a strange man, too.” Grace’s cheeks reddened as she said these words. “I don’t really know you that well.”
“Well, I know me. And I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that I am not going to swindle or kill you. Him, I don’t know about.”
Grace looked at Matt skeptically.
“We can drive separate cars,” Matt offered.
“I was going to take the train.”
“Fine. I’ll ride down with you. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else with you when you meet this guy, someone a little less…” Matt trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Crazy?” Grace finished.
“Biased. That’s the word I was looking for.”
“Are you going to charge me money?” Grace asked.
“No. This will be completely off the books.”
“Don’t you have to start charging me money some time? You can’t just keep helping me for free.”
Matt waved off her comment. “I don’t even know how to classify this case, yet. But I haven’t done that much for you. So what time are we leaving?”
Grace allowed Matt’s question to hang in the air before giving him a specific time to meet at the Poughkeepsie Train Station. Matt suspected meeting the man with the ugly dog might turn out to be an exercise in futility. But he could keep Grace safe. Besides, every other disparate thread of his investigation the past few days had miraculously connected; maybe this one would, too.
22
Jack Walton swung open the heavy double doors to Robert Stevenson’s office. Two young, suited men, who looked more like well dressed military personnel than corporate VPs, were coming out. They ignored Walton as they passed him. Stevenson, the founder and CEO of Stevenson Industries, a giant pharmaceutical conglomerate, sat at his desk, his body turned toward the side so he could look out the floor to ceiling window. The CEO held his hands together in a posture of prayer, though Walton knew the man was an agnostic and prayed to no god.
“Have a seat, Jack,” Stevenson said, without turning toward Walton, who settled into one of the leather seats in front of the CEO’s desk.
“Are those new recruits for the Search and Extract team?” Walton asked.
“Yes, they are.”
Stevenson had hired a steady stream of ex-military and security personnel since Josh Williams had stormed out of the building some two weeks ago. The new hires made Walton uneasy.
“Seems like we have a lot now, doesn’t it?”
“You were here two weeks ago. You’ve seen what we’re dealing with. We need a lot. Now, what’s on your mind?” Stevenson asked, still facing the window.
Walton ran his hand through his receding hairline. “Sir, I have some concerns over the direction of Research Division B.”
Stevenson turned toward his VP. “Concerns?”
“It seems that our methods have become increasingly aggressive lately. It was one thing when we interviewed people who professed to possess supernatural abilities and came in willingly. But now we’re taking them against their will.”
“Come now, Jack. You saw with your own eyes that Josh Williams was an inherent danger to society. You of all people should know that better than anyone.” Stevenson nodded toward the cast on Walton’s wrist, but Walton knew that the CEO was also referencing what Williams had done to Felicia.
“Perhaps that’s true, but it seems that we baited Williams into manifesting his powers, provoked him, even. Now, I take as much responsibility as anyone else for that, but this path that we’re treading seems dangerous.”
Stevenson snorted. “It is dangerous. But it is dangerous by necessity. And the rewards of our labor could be monumental.”
“Perhaps so, sir. But I also can’t help feeling a little out of the loo
p with what’s happening in my own division, now.”
“So that’s it, is it?” Stevenson chuckled. “This is more about you feeling that your authority has been usurped than it is unscrupulous methodology. You should be grateful for being left in the dark about some things, Jack. You have plausible deniability that way. Besides, your expertise is in psychiatric and neurological evaluations, not locating and extracting assets.”
Walton leaned forward. “But I’m also concerned about some things I’ve heard from some of the men—that you might be considering using Jessie Walters to get to Josh Williams.”
That fact had given Walton the greatest pause; sure, Williams was perpetually armed and dangerous—a ticking time bomb that could go off at any minute. But Jessie Walters was just an innocent bystander caught in the middle, now tied to Williams because she seemed to be the only human being he cared for.
“Jessie Walters is a means to an end. I promise you we won’t put her in any more danger than knowing Josh Williams has already put her in. But if need be, we will use her to get to Williams,” he said, his tone absolute and somewhat defiant. “Honestly, at this point, Williams is a slightly smaller fish and we have a whale on the loose.”
“A whale, sir? Are you referring to the man from India?”
“I don’t believe he’s in India anymore. I think he’s here.”
“But why would he be here?”
Stevenson didn’t answer.
“Sir, I can’t help but think that you know more about the man in India and even Josh Williams than you’re telling me.”
“Trust me, Jack—the best thing I can give you right now is plausible deniability. It’s the best thing for me, too. So if the cops come calling again, you can say in all honesty that you have no knowledge of that situation.”
Walton grimaced. “But how I am supposed to lead this division if you’re not telling me critical information?”
“These aren’t your angles, Jack. Extraction isn’t your specialty. Believe me, if we do bring Josh Williams or the man from India in, you’ll be the one to lead those studies. I need to understand how their minds work. So just be patient.”
“I will, sir. But in the meantime, it’s hard for me not to think that staying in the dark about these things will prevent me from being as useful as I could be.”
Stevenson glanced at him again. “You know what you need, Jack? Some time off. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off.”
Walton shook his head. “That’s not necessary, sir. I’m fine.”
“No, I insist, Jack. A little time off will give you a healthy dose of perspective.”
Walton stared at his boss. Robert Stevenson was not a man that others defied. “Very well, sir. But I’ll be in first thing tomorrow.”
“Sounds good, Jack. Enjoy your afternoon.”
The CEO glanced at Walton once more and gave him a perfunctory smile. Walton nodded and moved toward the door. Maybe an afternoon off would help him see his work in a new light.
23
John and Felicia stood outside the large colonial, tucked away in a newer housing development generally occupied by executive management at Stevenson Industries. Felicia had already rung the doorbell and they were waiting for her uncle to answer the door.
“How do you know your uncle is home right now?” John asked as he studied her expressionless face. Felicia had never been easy to read and always unpredictable, but John struggled to understand this less playful and more brooding version of her even more.
“I called his office and they said he left for the day,” she replied.
“Maybe he’s traveling for work.”
“Uncle Jack never travels for work,” she said definitively, though John doubted Felicia could make such a claim with complete certainty.
The door creaked open, revealing Jack Walton, the supervisor of Stevenson Industries’ Research Division B. Dressed in a fraying bathrobe, he seemed less like executive management and more like a retired union worker. His gaze focused immediately on his niece and appeared to exclude John, who stood to the right of the door.
“Felicia? What brings you by?” John couldn’t tell if the older man was excited or concerned to see her.
“We need to talk,” she said.
For the first time, Walton noticed Harrison. His expression tilted toward apprehension.
“Please come in.” He stepped aside so the two could enter. “Detective. I heard you were shot. I’m glad to see you’re better.”
“Thank you, Mr. Walton,” John said as Felicia’s uncle ushered them into his living room.
“I’m sorry to be dressed like this. I wasn’t expecting visitors today.” He sat down in a brown leather chair located across from the television. Felicia and John sat by one another on a matching leather couch.
“What happened to your wrist?” Felicia asked, staring at the hard cast on his right wrist.
“Oh, I fell at work. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He glanced from John to Felicia, waiting for an answer. John sat back and let Felicia get the conversation started. Now that he was there, John feared his presence would discourage Walton from dispensing any useful intelligence.
“We’re here about Thomas Wilson and Josh Williams,” Felicia said, leaning forward and folding her hands together. “I’m sure you’re already aware that Wilson died the same night John was shot and you lost Josh Williams.”
“Yes. A very unfortunate accident. Two of our other men were injured in the incident as well. Neither one of them has made it back to work, yet.”
“They were after Josh Williams, weren’t they?” Felicia asked.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he said without blinking.
“Then what were they doing?”
“I don’t know. I’m not their direct supervisor.”
Felicia narrowed her eyes at her uncle. “Uncle Jack, the accident happened a block away from Josh Williams’ last known location. Please don’t lie to me or treat me like I’m an idiot.”
Walton leaned back and crossed his legs. “I’m well aware you’re not an idiot, Felicia. But I let you get too involved before. I’m not going to make the same mistake again.”
“Because you don’t trust me?”
Walton turned his focus to John. “Actually, no. This is because I’m your uncle, and I promised your mom I’d look after you.”
“I think you’re in danger,” Felicia said, her tone even.
“Me? From whom? Josh Williams?”
“We have reasons to believe that he engineered the accident that killed Thomas Wilson. And we also have reason to believe he might be coming after you, next.”
John wondered if Felicia would break out the sketch to show her uncle, but she didn’t. Though a man of science, Walton worked on reported cases of paranormal activity, so he should have at least entertained the notion of a woman with clairvoyant dreams.
“Why would Williams come after me?” Walton asked.
“Because you’re part of the apparatus that kidnapped him and is probably still pursuing him. I think that might affect his opinion of you,” Felicia said.
Walton chuckled. “You needn’t worry about me. As far as I know, Williams is long gone. Try to forget about him. He’s destined to be only a bad memory one day.”
“You’ll forgive me for struggling to forget him,” she said, her voice low.
Walton frowned but did not follow up his previous statement. Whether he abstained from speaking because he felt guilty for putting Felicia in a dangerous situation or just didn’t know what to say to a woman who had been sexually assaulted was unclear.
“Why aren’t you at work, today?” Felicia asked.
“I decided to take the afternoon off.”
Felicia shook her head and stood up. “Please don’t get involved with Josh Williams. You don’t even need to tell me anything. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Walton smiled. “Don’t worry Felicia, I’ll be careful.”
“I don’
t believe you. Goodbye.” Felicia started to move toward the door.
John rose to his feet but held his position. “Felicia, can you give me a minute with your uncle, alone?”
Felicia halted long enough to turn and shrug before continuing her departure. A few seconds later, the door closed behind her. John waited another moment before speaking.
“Josh Williams is still out there, and he’s dangerous.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, Detective.”
“So if you have any information that could help me find him, you should tell me now. He needs to be brought in.”
Walton chuckled again. “You haven’t done such a good job at stopping him so far, have you?”
“Same could be said for you.”
“We did fail. But we learned. Next time we’ll be more prepared. If there is a next time, that is. Like I said before, for all we know Williams is long gone. At any rate, at least my people believe what Williams is capable of. Good luck trying to explain that to your fellow officers.”
Harrison inhaled and glanced out the window. He caught sight of Felicia, pacing back and forth across the driveway. “I’ve worked a lot of rape cases before. Among the many things that haunt rape victims is the fact that, often, their assailants are still out there. It’s hard to heal when you’re afraid the same person will attack you again.”
Jack Walton followed Harrison’s gaze to the window. “But Felicia wasn’t raped. I saw the footage myself. He threw her around a bit, but that was it. He stopped before it got really bad.”
“That’s not what Felicia said. You should find out from her what really happened. Of course, she won’t talk to you because she thinks you care more about this project you’re working on than you do about her. And based on this conversation we just had, I think she’s right.” Harrison stepped closer to Walton and leaned down toward him. “Now if you change your mind and decide that Felicia’s more important, you call me. Because we both know you have way more information than you’ve been willing to share so far.”
With that, Harrison followed Felicia’s lead and headed toward the door. Before he made it out, Walton said one more thing.
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