Fire In The Mind: Leonard Wise Book 1

by Arjay Lewis

  As they spoke, Denise pointed at one of the fake paintings on the wall with a questioning look. Jenn turned her head, and everything seemed to stand still. From the activity going at such a clip that I could barely keep up, it now slowed to a crawl, and I could see every detail.

  As Jenny turned to gaze at the picture, Denise moved her hand to Jenny’s drink. In her palm was a small vial from which several drops of a blue liquid poured out and dripped into the ginger ale. The drink shifted color a tiny amount, but in the bad lighting of the bar, it was not noticeable.

  Things returned to the previous speed. I wanted to grab the drink, push it away, get Jenny out of there. But I was nothing more than an invisible observer.

  Jenny raised the glass to her lips and drank several times as I watched. I wanted to yell, to touch her mind, but I couldn’t in my current state of nonexistence. I’ve undergone out-of-body experiences before, and I’ve yet to get the hang of how to accomplish anything in a state somewhere between reality and a dream.

  They continued to talk, a pantomime of movement where I couldn’t quite hear the words. Jenny’s hand went to her head, and she rubbed her temples. Her mouth moved, giving an explanation as she reached for her purse to get up and leave. Denise gently touched her arm and said something, and Jenny sat heavily back on the chair. Denise looked concerned and got up for a moment to get water from the bar. The waiter came over and knelt next to Jenny in her seat.

  That’s when he walked in.

  Jack, in all his long black leather coat and turtleneck glory. He wore a smile on his face as his sunglasses reflected the lights from the bar.

  Jenny blinked and rose from her seat as Denise returned to the table, water in hand.

  Jack seemed to possess a glow around him, like an aura, but it was orange and red— like fire.

  He slipped the waiter a hundred-dollar bill, and I could clearly hear him say, “My wife isn’t feeling well. I’d better take her home.”

  It was as if I were right next to him. I flew toward him, to smash into him, hurt him, send him reeling. But in my incorporeal state, I was quite harmless.

  Jack moved to Jenny and pulled at her arm. She mumbled something like, “No, no,” and her legs went out from under her. Jack kept her on her feet while Denise took her free arm. Together, they walked Jenny out of the bar.

  I followed right through the wall, not having to bother with doors, and watched as they lowered Jenny into the back seat of the red minivan I’d ridden in with Denise and Char days earlier.

  “Let’s go, Denny,” Jack said, and Denise ran to the driver’s seat as Jack looked right at me. He moved into the passenger seat, and they drove off.

  I wanted to follow, to do something, to warn someone, but my mind was as exhausted as my sleeping body. The scene faded out, and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  eighteen

  With the dawn, I jumped into full consciousness. The dream, or vision, was fresh in my mind. It was so clear, I felt as if I was still in that room.

  I grabbed my cane and got up, not bothering with socks or a robe, and went out into the hall and living room. There sat Jon, fully dressed with the phone in his lap, dozing.

  “Jon!” I said, giving him a shake. He leaned forward and took his face in his hands to bring himself fully awake.

  “Yeah, I’m up,” he said. “Len?”

  “Where’s Jenny?”

  Jon pulled himself from the chair, which dumped the headset onto the floor. “Jenn…I don’t know. She was—I mean, she didn’t…I was waiting up for her.”

  “Do you know when you fell asleep?”

  “I watched the Tonight Show, but I turned it off and shut my eyes for a moment. I called Jenn’s cell about ten thirty—then again at eleven.”

  I grabbed the phone. “Why don’t you make coffee? I’ll call the police.”

  “The police? Is that necessary?” he said. His eyes were red and tired, and he rubbed them again.

  “Yes, and right away.” I limped into the bedroom, grabbed my phone and hit the number I needed.

  “McGee.”

  “Jenny Baines is missing,” I said and closed the door to my guest room.

  “Missing? Did something happen?”

  “Bill, I had a dream last night—a vision. I think I know what happened.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jenny was meeting a client last night to settle some paperwork, that’s what Jon told me. Well, I had a vision where Jenny was in a bar, and Denise Haskell drugged her. Then Jack Hallman showed up, and they put her in Denise’s red van and drove off. And here’s another fact, he called her Denny.”

  “Denny, like that name with all the vowels on the corporate papers. Do you know which bar?”

  “No, but it was unusual. Do you know a place with a polished old-world bar, but has Day-Glo vinyl and art on the walls?”

  “Art? You mean like copies of the Mona Lisa—things like that?”

  “Yes, that’s it!”

  “Sounds like The Artful Dive on Route Three. It’s part of the Holiday Inn.”

  “I got the feeling it was connected to some hotel.”

  “Any chance that in this vision, you got a gander at the bartender?”

  “Briefly. A guy with a beard.”

  “Right, that’s Ted. I know him, which is the only reason I know the bar. Here’s what we do. Have Jon Baines pull a photo, a wedding photo will do. I’ll call Ted, wake him up, and take the photo over and see if he can ID her. If so, I can get a warrant on Hallman.”

  “Bill, Jenny is in danger.”

  “Len, what do you want me to do? Go to a judge and ask for a warrant because you had a vision? I need something more, and an eyewitness will do it.”

  “OK, but I’m going with you. Maybe I can get a bead on where she is.”

  “Why would Hallman grab Jenny? Seems like a pretty dumb move.”

  “He’s desperate. But it’s more than that. He saw me and Jenny together at her insurance company. He knows we’re friends.”

  “Are you thinking—hostage?”

  “Could be.”

  “A hostage situation could get me a lot more help—the state—maybe even some friends from the FBI. I’ll be at your place within a half-hour.”

  “Thanks, Bill.”

  I showered quickly and threw on the black suit I wore for the funeral, without a tie, and grabbed my wallet and watch, which read seven twenty-five. I hobbled to the front of the house and discovered Jon sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, the phone next to him again.

  “I tried her mobile again. Then I left a message at her office…”

  “That won’t do any good, Jon.”

  “What do you mean?” he said as he stood in alarm.

  “Jon,” I said and took him by the arms. “I need you to get me a photo of Jenny.”

  “A photo?”

  “Yes, Detective McGee is on the way here, and we may have a way to find her.”

  He moved, still in a daze, then hurriedly went to the second floor and within two minutes, had retrieved a beautiful photo of Jenny in the front yard, playing with a dog.

  “I took it last year. That’s the neighbor’s dog.”

  I nodded. “Great, Jon. You should get some sleep. I’ll keep you posted.” I started for the front door, but Jon blocked my path.

  “Len, what’s going on? Do you know where she is? Is she all right? Why didn’t she call?”

  “Jon, I think Jenny’s fine, for now. She might be in a hostage situation.”

  “Jenny—a hostage? For God’s sake, she’s an insurance adjuster!”

  “And she may have ticked off a serious psychopath. But if Bill and I move quickly, she won’t get hurt.”

  He grabbed my arm. “Len, I’ve got to come with you!”

&nbs
p; “Jon, you’ll slow us down. I barely got McGee to agree to let me go.”

  “Len,” he said, his eyes wet. “You’ve got to help her. If anything happened to Jenn, I-I…”

  “I promise you, I’ll bring her home to you,” I said, with the hope it wasn’t wishful thinking.

  I made for the door while the going was good, and was out in front of the house just as McGee pulled up in a black and white police car with CITY OF MOUNTAINVIEW stenciled on the side.

  I went around the car and slid into the passenger seat next to McGee as I handed him the photo.

  “Pretty good likeness,” he said. “Then again, I only met her once.”

  “It’ll have to do,” I said.

  Off we went. I wondered why Bill hadn’t brought his unmarked car until he turned on the flashing lights and the sirens as we sped. The morning rush hour was in full force, and the roadways contained their usual volume. Fortunately, we were only on Route Three for one exit before we pulled off, took the first turn, and stopped in front of a modest two-story Cape Cod style house.

  McGee bolted for the door. I struggled to get out of the car and tapped my way behind him, finding McGee already in conversation with the bearded man from my dream.

  He nodded as McGee spoke, and when I got closer, I could hear what he was saying.

  “Yeah, this was the lady. She was having a drink—just ginger ale, and she gets all dizzy. So the lady that’s with her gets a glass of water, and a man comes in, says he’s her husband, and the two of them help her out the door.”

  “Can you describe the other woman?”

  “She had shoulder-length hair, but it looked like a wig. She was what I’d call sturdy. Not thin, but not fat. She looked strong. She wore a frilly shirt and a pantsuit.”

  Just as I saw her, I thought.

  Bill was scribbling in a small notebook he’d hastily pulled out of his jacket. “And the man?”

  “Tall, dark hair, good-looking, all in black,” Ted said. “And he was wearing sunglasses, even though the bar is pretty dark at night.”

  I nodded. “That’s him, Hallman.”

  McGee looked at me, puzzled for a moment, then shook Ted’s hand. “Thanks, I’ll be in touch.” He went back to his car, and I followed again, still not able to keep up. I found him on the radio, finishing a conversation.

  “Ten-four. I want Denise Haskell picked up and waiting for me at the station. I’ll meet you at Hallman’s office.”

  “Ten-four,” crackled the radio.

  “Get in the car,” McGee said to me as he put the microphone on its hook. “I’m waiting for a signature on the warrant, which the assistant DA is getting right now.”

  “Assistant DA?”

  “Yeah. New woman, Jyanette Emery.”

  I paused to look at Bill as a chill went up my spine. That name was somehow important, though for the life of me, at that time I couldn’t imagine why.

  He went on. “Galland and his partner are waiting to grab it and then will meet us at Hallman’s office.”

  I got into the car. McGee gunned the engine, and we took off. “How did you do it so fast?”

  “I did the paperwork yesterday. This pushed it forward. Galland brought it to Emery this morning. She’s on her way to Judge Franks.”

  “But what if I was wrong?” I said, surprised that I expressed doubt about my own vision.

  “But you weren’t, Len,” McGee chuckled.

  “But if…”

  “Then we wouldn’t be proceeding. I’ve also told officers to pick up Denise Haskell for questioning. If Hallman called her ‘Denny’ and she is Denny Kalhaskalwicz—”

  “Then she’s in Nova Corporation up to her eyeballs,” I said.

  “She’ll be at the station by the time we get there. Just relax, Len, and let me do the worrying. Hallman is in his office every day at eight. So we’re heading there.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve had a tail on him for days, ever since the first time you mentioned him,” McGee said as he flicked on the flashing lights. “Now, if you want to talk about what is wrong with your vision, here are two things. Hallman didn’t leave his house last night.”

  “What?!”

  “And second, the description Ted and you gave doesn’t match the man I met.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I went to Jack Hallman’s office to question him, Len. He’s average height. Yeah, he likes to wear black, but he’s not good-looking, and his hair is thinning.”

  “Wait, no. The guy is at least six feet, maybe even my height. And he was very handsome and in good physical shape.”

  “You met him somewhere? Besides in your visions?”

  “At the insurance company, with Jenny.”

  “It appears one of the men claiming to be Jack Hallman isn’t,” McGee said, glancing over at me to see the look of shock on my face. “Nice to know I can surprise you once in a while.”

  “It never occurred to me,” I said.

  “You’re not a cop, Len. You take people at face value, or by whatever your weird senses tell you.”

  “If one of them is a fraud—which one is it?” I said.

  “We’ll have to ask the Jack Hallman we find.”

  We were back in Mountainview. McGee used a series of back streets and put us there in record time. We pulled onto Bloomdale Avenue, with lights and sirens going, and quickly turned onto a side street where a five-story building overlooked the lower part of town and the railway station. It was a large building that extended up the block. The first floor was shops and business. The entrance we faced was for the office suites on the upper floors.

  There was a second black and white police car waiting for us. McGee got out and strode purposefully toward it, and two uniformed officers stepped out. One was Galland, the other was a short African-American woman in full uniform who gave me a smile as Galland handed McGee the folded paper.

  “Galland, don’t you ever sleep?” McGee said.

  “Wouldn’t miss this, sir,” Galland said and then turned to me. “This is my partner, Tylissa Booker.”

  I gave her a nod. “Pleasure.”

  “Doctor,” she said. “Heard you got a witness to spill the beans?”

  I shrugged. Word certainly traveled fast in a small police department.

  “Booker, you stay out here and keep things under control.” McGee stated.

  “Yes sir,” she said with a nod.

  “Galland, you’re with us.”

  I followed McGee and Galland in the building and onto the elevator. As we rode up, I turned to McGee.

  “If this is the Jack Hallman I told you about,” I murmured to McGee. “Do we have enough firepower to stop him?”

  “If not, we’ll need you more than ever, Len.”

  Galland glanced at both of us with a confused look but rode on in silence. We got off on the fourth floor. Then McGee marched down the hall and banged on a door.

  “Open up, Hallman, it’s the police. I have a warrant to search the premises.”

  Grumbling came from the other side of the door, and it was opened to reveal a man of average height with a craggy face, thinning hair, and bland features, wearing a black turtleneck and suit jacket.

  “What is it this time, Detective?” the man said. “I have half a mind to sue you for harassment.”

  “Wrong, you just have half a mind, period,” McGee said, turning to me. “Len, is this your man in black?”

  “Not even close.”

  “OK. Jack, you have any ID?”

  “You know who I am, Detective,” he complained.

  “Just show it,” McGee barked.

  With another grumble, he reached into his jacket, withdrew his wallet, and showed his driver’s license. The picture was of poor quality, but it was obviously t
he man standing before us.

  “So, now that we know who you are, let us in, Hallman,” McGee said as Galland handed him the warrant in one practiced move.

  McGee pushed the door open and stepped into the lawyer’s office. It was a nice suite, organized to the point where I couldn’t imagine a bit of dust daring to be there. Several wooden bookcases were built into the walls and were lined with books. The floor was a dull linoleum covered by cheap, but handsome, Oriental carpet. His desk was an older style roll-top, but modern enough to hold a laptop computer. The machine was up and running with a a rather cute semi-clad woman dancing along its face as a screen-saver. There were tall wooden file cabinets, all with small cards on the front that identified their contents.

  “Let me see that warrant before you go touching anything, McGee,” Hallman said as he grabbed the warrant to read it.

  “So, who is walking around claiming to be you, Jack?” McGee asked nonchalantly as he watched the stripping figure on the laptop screen.

  As he read, Hallman replied, “How the hell would I know?” He spied something on the paper and stopped to read it again. “What is this? I’m a suspect in the kidnapping of Jennifer Baines? Who the hell is she?”

  “Hallman, I’m going to ask you a couple of questions. If I don’t like the answers, this officer,” he indicated Galland, “and I will take apart this office splinter by splinter until I get them.”

  “Sure, sure,” he said as he handed back the warrant. “I always try to be helpful to the police.”

  “You represent the Nova Corporation, right?”

  “I have had some limited business dealings with them, but any communication with them is privileged.”

  “You hear about the fire last night?” McGee said. “Killed an old acquaintance of both of us, Roswell Norris.”

  “I heard about it, tough break for Norris,” Hallman griped, uninterested.

  “He was also in the employ of the Nova Corporation,” McGee said. “I should also advise you that the office under his, where the fire originated, was rented by you, according to leasing records.”

  “What?” Hallman said, his mouth falling open. “That’s impossible! I made sure—” He stopped abruptly as he realized he’d stuck his foot in it.