28
There was next to no traffic when Griffin and Carson stepped out of the station. The evening had cooled down and the trees rustled with a light breeze. Gaffer’s Ridge was closing down for the night. They walked a moment in silence before Griffin said, his voice light, “It’s been quite a day for both of us, especially you. Here I was, tired from a hard case and walking around town to avoid taking a nap after Jenny fed me lunch. I was thinking of nothing more than what kind of furniture to buy for my new condo in Washington, when suddenly your voice was yelling in my head. I wanted to talk with you about your gift. When it came to you, that sort of thing.”
Carson stopped, turned to face him. “So this was why you wanted to walk. You wanted to see if I was all right with all that happened. Between us. In our brains.”
He nodded, kicked a pebble from the path.
She sighed. “It’s all so very weird. And no, it wasn’t new to me.”
“Tell me how it came about.”
“I was in a bad car accident when I was seventeen, left me in a coma for a week. When I was finally swimming back to the surface, I heard someone speaking. The voice sounded distant, and it sounded somehow odd. I came to discover she wasn’t speaking to me. She was thinking about dinner and what she’d make and how her louse ex-husband was picking up her daughter at eight o’clock. I couldn’t believe it. It was a nurse. When I opened my eyes to see her, I said, ‘Why is your ex-husband a louse?’ I thought she’d faint, then I guess she decided she’d said it out loud. It’s happened only a few times, and it’s always unexpected. I’ve never been able to make it happen. I remember when I was walking down Madison in New York next to a man in a business suit. I heard all about his presentation to his boss that morning and how he’d nailed it. I couldn’t help it. When I passed him, I smiled big and congratulated him on impressing his boss. He gave me a weird look and nearly broke into a run to get away from me. The last time it happened, one day last year, I was walking toward Fiftieth and Fifth to shop a sale at Saks. I ran into this young man, a complete stranger, like Rafer Bodine. And his thoughts were as loud as Rafer’s. He was insanely happy. He’d just gotten married and all he could think about was his bride. He was very graphic about it. I remember I simply stopped and stared at him. I don’t think he ever noticed me. He continued on his way, nearly skipping he was so happy. I told my mom each time it happened. Bless her, she hugged me, whispered against my ear, ‘Another amazing part of you, Carson. Enjoy it, use it, appreciate it, and don’t let it worry you.’
“Then there was Rafer, hearing him thinking about the three kidnapped girls.” She sighed. “I’ve studied this gift you and I have. Do you know, I haven’t found a single medical explanation. Sure, there are gazillions of references to people getting the ‘sight’ after a head trauma, but nothing you’d call legitimate research. Now, how about you?”
He said, “The first time I was maybe fifteen. I heard my mother’s thoughts. I’d just walked in from school, real quiet. I wanted to surprise her, give her a little scare, when her voice sounded in my head, ‘I know you want to scare me into gray hair, Griffin, but not this time. I’ve got a bone to pick with you.’?”
She laughed. “What was the bone?”
“I honestly don’t remember, but I bet Mom would. I guess this gift, or whatever you want to call it, I inherited from her. She knew it, but she never spoke of it to me. I like that your mom talked about it with you.
“And like you, I can never predict when there’ll be somebody knocking on the front door in my mind. There’s one other person I know who’s like us. That’s Agent Dillon Savich, my boss. You’ll meet him and maybe another agent, who happens to be his wife.” He paused a moment. “Sometime I’ll tell you about how Savich and I dealt with a very scary old woman, name of Louisa Alcott, no relation to the author.”
“Does Louisa have your gift?”
“Not exactly. She had a different gift—actually, she had an amazing power that almost killed us.” He leaned down and sniffed at a wildly blooming red bougainvillea.
“Will you tell me what happened someday?”
“We’ll see.”
“I’ll remind you. Now, you believe hooking up happens when the right person is in the right place at the right time. Like you were today.”
“Sounds sort of reasonable. I think strong emotion may be a factor, as it was with you.”
“I was knocked out and kidnapped and scared out of my mind when Rafer pulled out that gun, so I’d say I was pretty amped up. Agent Kraus doesn’t know about you? About what really happened?”
“Nope. No reason to drag her into it.”
“Do you know how much longer she and her agents will stay?”
“She’s done her job. I imagine they’ll head out tomorrow. She’s leaving DeAndre and Slick—that’s Agent David Foxx—to guard Rafer. Also, she’ll come back if I call her, which I don’t think will be necessary. Savich is coming. I’m thinking he’ll be all the backup we need.”
“You make him sound like Superman.”
“Let’s say in a fight I’d want him at my back. Like I said, Sherlock, his wife, is also an agent. He told me she was in a car accident, but apparently she’s okay. She’s got this amazing gift—no, a different amazing gift—she walks into a crime scene and she’s crazy good at reconstructing it. It’s like she can see what happened.”
“Do you know, I’ve lived in New York all my life and never even saw a mugging? Okay, I’ve seen some drug deals on street corners, at least that’s what I thought they were. A day in Gaffer’s Ridge with its six church spires and antique shops, and this—” She waved her arms around her, eyed him. “I still find it amazing you’re an FBI agent. Can you imagine what would have happened if you were an insurance salesman or a vet running an animal clinic? Hey, will you teach me how to kick like that?”
Griffin laughed. “Sure, why not?” He was glad Savich was on his way, since his gut was telling him he was going to need him. Griffin wasn’t going to question his gut. When he had in the past, things hadn’t worked out well.
Carson said, “You know the sheriff is only going to pretend to cooperate, right, Griffin?”
“That’s exactly what I expect. Although Agent Kraus may have scared him enough to make him useful to us, at least for the short term. When I see him and his deputies in the morning, I’m going to send them to Radford and Marion—the towns where Amy Traynor and Latisha Morris lived. I want him to tell the local sheriff or police chief what’s happened here, that these kidnappings are all under the purview of the FBI now. He can bring back copies of their case files and share his work with them, which I doubt he’s done. Then I’m going to contact them myself, see what they’ve been up to, any and all the angles and leads they’re following.”
“And Heather Forrester, who’s from here?”
Griffin smiled. “Do you know, I imagine the sheriff has done due diligence, since she’s from Gaffer’s Ridge. I’ll review all the interviews he and his deputies have conducted, see if I need to speak to the family. But I’ll bet you he’s been very thorough.”
“What if the other law enforcement people won’t cooperate with the sheriff? I mean, I wouldn’t even want to give him my name.”
“Don’t forget, Bodine knows these people. They’ll see he’s cooperating, even though he doesn’t like us, even though his nephew is involved. I think that’ll help us. We can also ask Agent Kraus to arrest him, and he knows it.”
When they turned the corner onto Cedar Lane, they saw FBI agents lounging around the FBI van, no longer wearing their tactical gear but looking like regular folks in jeans and T-shirts. Jenny and Aimée Rose were on the front porch of their white 1940s cottage, inviting them in for dinner.
Carson stopped, breathed in deeply. “Can you smell that spaghetti, Griffin? Delicious, and after all, we did only get a taste. I hope she’s got lots of garlic toast.”