"What I have to say isn't as bad as a week ago. My boss stepped in and called some favors and pissed on the fire, at least for now. Some ambitious government departments think they can do anything they damn well please and do it with impunity. They got wind there might be someone out there in the nether world with incredible abilities they could commandeer. They snuck around and found my name and began to push me, claiming public interest, national security, and all that bull shit. I played dumb but I figured my phone lines were tapped and big brother had his eye on me twenty-four, seven. I whined to my daddy director back in Washington. He got them to back off, at least for now."

"Are the phone lines compromised?"

"Not this one."

"But you're still worried."

"Damn right! When these guys want something, they work real hard to get it and they have lots of toys at their disposal. If they succeeded, they'd stick your guy . . . or girl, in a box in McLean and pump 'em dry."

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"What should we do?"

"Same old, same old, if you ask me. Watch your back and keep your fake papers handy, just in case. I've fixed you up as secure as I can so let's hope it's tight enough."

"You don't think we should lay off for a while?"

"God, I hope you don't! What you're doing is monumental. By the way, the good news is you might have just saved another life. The California kid, Lottie Lynn Summerfield is alive and . . . I'm not sure, well. A couple of vacationers picked her up walking along the beach near La Jolla."

"You're kidding! She escaped? Was she hurt?"

"The doctors think she was molested, like the others, but she says she wasn't. The girl tells an incredible story."

"Can she describe our chubby friend with the mustache?"

"Just the opposite. She claims a red headed young guy took real good care of her, fed her and let her play video games."

"That's a lie!"

"I know it, you know it and he knows it. She repeats the story rote, as if he made her memorize it, which I'll bet the bastard did. I'm not sure why."

"He's playing with our heads."

"Granted, but why?" Brennan answered his own question. "Maybe he's waiting to see if we buy her story or the tip that mentioned his facial hair. That would give him a heads-up on how much credibility we put on the so-called psychic tipster."

"What will the California authorities do?"

"They'll follow up on the girl's story even though you and I know it's bogus. I assume they have strong suspicions as well. By the way, if you took my bet, you lost five bucks. The Buick with its stolen plates turned up in the San Diego Airport parking lot wiped clean."




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