Extrasensory (22 page)

Besides the fact that it could use a good cleaning crew to scrape away the filth, the apartment was a sad commentary on the life of the man who’d lived in it. Cheap, used furniture. A small television set. Pantry cupboards filled with as much cheap booze as food. A stack of mail, some unopened, lay on the scarred table in the kitchenette.

Wallace dumped it in a plastic baggie to take with them.

Going through the piles of dirty laundry—a task they flipped a coin for—yielded an assortment of scraps of paper and notes on cocktail napkins. Again, they bagged it all to take with them.

“No telephone,” Cliff pointed out.

“People like him would rather operate by cell phone. Less traceable, especially if they use throwaways. They can keep changing numbers.”

“I saw a receipt from Wal-Mart in with all this junk. That’s probably where he got them.”

“We’ll have to see if Wal-Mart can give us the numbers, then get a warrant to dump the calls. Not too likely, though. I hate these disposables.”

“The lab already has the one we found in his jacket. They can scroll through it and see if they can find calls in or out. The dumb son-of-a-bitch who shot him somehow didn’t think to take it.”

“We’ll be lucky if we get anything usable,” Aragon said. “Nate was sly and crafty.

He probably erased any trace of calls as soon as they were completed.”

“Yeah,” his partner agreed, “but at this point we gotta try anything.”

“We’ve got uniforms doing a canvass on the street and the other apartments. Also at the airport. Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone saw something. Or remembers who he was with lately.”

“Maybe. All right,” Cliff said. “I think we’re done here.” He looked at the tech. “Get all the pictures you need?”

“Yup. They’ll make a nice addition to my collection. Places I wouldn’t be caught dead in.”

All three men laughed, although not with much humor.

* * * * *

Dan announced they’d be reprogramming the biometric ID system at once and asked for a quiet place to work.

“We’ve proven that Oscar’s security wasn’t breached,” Ladd pointed out. “Is it still necessary to change the system? Can’t we just eliminate Stan from the program?”

“No.” Dan had his cell phone out and was already punching in numbers. “We set the system up a particular way. In order not to compromise it and allow someone to hack in and replace one set of biometrics with another, you have to take down the whole system to reprogram it.”

“Leaving Oscar vulnerable during that time,” Joy pointed out, her attitude back in place. “Keep in mind that it’s Chase’s neck on the line here.” Dan had never wanted to strangle a woman as much as he did this one. “Hardly.

Oscar is tightly guarded and in a locked case. My men watched Lucas replace him personally. Whoever has that thumb and eyeball lost the only opportunity to use it. But I’m still not taking any chances.”

He turned to speak into his phone again.

“I guess Dan’s right,” Ladd told Rick. “What a mess, though.” Dan disconnected his call. “We’ll be starting on it in a few moments. While we’re doing this, no one except my men goes near Oscar. Are we clear on that?”

“Surely you don’t think one of us is involved,” Joy snapped.

“You asked the same question earlier, Miss Rivers and I believe I answered it then.

However, if you need me to repeat what I said, we can’t write anyone off yet. That includes you and every other member of Carpenter Techtronics who has daily access to this building.” Dan kept his tone level. “The first thing we have to do is eliminate everyone from Carpenter so we can focus on other possibilities.” Holcomb had stepped out into the reception area for a discussion with two of his detectives. They reported there had been no extraneous people on the executive floor since midnight except the janitorial service. Each of them had been questioned thoroughly. They’d even been luminoled for possible traces of blood on their hands or clothing. The techs had found nothing.

“No one could have left either,” Chase pointed out. “You had someone checking the elevators right away and the fire doors sound an alarm when they’re opened.”

“What about someone coming in from outside?” Holcomb asked.

Lucas shook his head. “Those exit doors were locked from the outside. We can release them electronically in case of emergency but if someone tries to open one otherwise, an alarm goes off.”

“So.” Holcomb looked around the room. “No one out, no one in. That doesn’t leave a lot of choices.”

“Whoever it was could have slipped into the elevator when no one was paying attention and be long gone now,” Joy pointed out.

Holcomb said nothing, just pulled out his little notebook and resumed his questioning with dogged determination. Did Stan have enemies? Did he get along with the other members of the staff? Was industrial espionage a possibility?

“As soon as CSU is finished in there, we’ll need someone to tell us if anything was taken.”

“You mean besides his thumb and eyeball?” Joy shuddered.

“I vouch for everyone on my staff,” Chase exploded. “They’re all carefully vetted.

And the people around this table shouldn’t even be on any suspect list. For anything.”

“We have to explore every possibility,” Holcomb said quietly.

And on and on and on. At one point Lucas called the cafeteria to order sandwiches and drinks sent up.

“We’ll get them up as quickly as we can,” the cafeteria manager told him in a harried voice. “They won’t let anyone leave the building so we gotta feed the whole staff.”

Lucas made appropriately sympathetic noises. “Just do the best you can.” Rick took his laptop into Chase’s office where he linked it to the Dragon back at Phoenix headquarters. Then he began the process of reprogramming the biometric ID

system. He entered each of the principals one at a time, registering fingerprints and retinal scans. In less than an hour he was done.

While they were waiting for the food to be delivered and for their turn to be scanned, Chase flipped on the big plasma television on the wall to catch the newscast.

“Well, shit,” Lucas said, looking at the screen.

A reporter from one of the local channels was doing a standup in front of their building, with a jumble of cars, vans and televisions units spread out behind her.

Massed in and around them were enough people that the street was thoroughly clogged. Uniformed patrolmen were working overtime to keep people behind the barriers.

“And this reporter has learned that not only was the body found this morning that of the notorious bomber-for-hire Nate Wilson but he also may have been the one responsible for blowing up Mia Fleming’s car at the art museum. Rumor has it that Ms.

Fleming predicted Wilson’s murder and also that of Carpenter Techtronics’ engineer Stan Forbush. Dr. Fleming’s reputation is viewed with skepticism by the local police.

What will they make of her predictions now? Back after this announcement.”

“Fuck.” Chase picked up a coffee cup and threw it against the wall, the splinters falling soundlessly to the carpet.

“She’s going to be a real problem, Chase.” Joy looped her arms through his and tried to pull him aside. “I knew it was a mistake to bring her in here.” She turned to Dan, eyes blazing now. “What kind of company do you run that you use this kind of lunatic? All it’s doing is make us look like a laughingstock. Think of our reputation.” Dan took a moment before answering her. “Miss Rivers. Chase and I have known each other for a long time. He knows what kind of company Phoenix is or he never would have called me to begin with. We’re the best there is. And psychics with varying types of gifts have long been known to be helpful in many investigations. Even the military is experimenting with using them.”

“I don’t want her here.”

The devil beneath the angel was flowing red. Dan had seldom seen such animosity except in war. While he searched for the right words to defuse the situation, Chase stepped in.

“Honey.” He dropped a kiss on Joy’s forehead. “Just chill, okay? Dan knows what he’s doing. I appreciate how you feel and God knows without you I don’t think I’d have made it these last weeks. But Mia has definitely been a help. Without her we wouldn‘t even know there is a problem and wouldn’t be preparing ourselves. So let’s not write her off if we don’t have to.”

The food arrived at that moment, for which Dan heaved a sigh of relief, but almost no one had any appetite.

The CSU stopped at the door to tell them they could get into the office if they walked carefully. Holcomb and Rick took Chase and Lucas to see if anything had been removed. After checking drawers and cabinets and Stan’s computer, they both agreed nothing looked disturbed.

“Stan was a fanatic about his stuff,” Chase said. “If someone had so much as turned on his monitor or ‘borrowed’ any of the binders on the bookshelf we’d know it.” Faith sat quietly with Mia, watching the proceedings, catching Mark’s eye now and then. At one point Joy stood up from the table and announced she’d had enough and was leaving. Chase rose also, speaking to her in a low voice, rubbing her arms, stroking her chin, turning her into him and away from the others in the room.

At length she settled down, dropping into her seat with an irritated expression on her face, attempting to ignore everyone. Once again Dan thought to himself what a strange relationship it was between those two.

“If you will just let me into the office,” Mia tried again during a temporary halt in the questioning, “I might be able to get an image of something.” Holcomb gnawed on his moustache for a moment. “Dr. Fleming. You seem pretty positive that this time you’re on the right track. I’d hate to shut you down if this is one of the times you can really help us. Will you try something for me first?” Mia looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

He pulled an envelope from his pocket and removed six photos from it. “Come sit over her next to me, please.”

She turned to Dan, her eyes questioning.

“Go on,” he whispered. “Play his game.”

She settled herself in the indicated chair, hands folded.

“I’ve been told that true precognitives can tell something just from touching photos,” Holcomb said. “Has that happened to you before?”

“Yes but—”

“Then let’s do a little test here, okay? No offense but I don’t want to get burned again. Not with all that media waiting outside to chew us up.”

“Fine.” She lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “Let’s do it.” In the end, Dan had to work hard not to laugh. Every photo Holcomb pulled out was a fake, a setup for a Homeland Security disaster drill. And his little psychic nailed them all.

“Are we through with show and tell, Captain?” She had a hard time keeping the smug tone from her voice. “Are you satisfied with my responses?” He sighed. “I guess taking you to the crime scene can’t be any more futile than anything else we’re doing.”

“I’ll go with her.” Dan held out his hand for her.

Holcomb’s eyebrows lifted but he made no comment. “The rest of you stay here with the detectives. We’re not done yet.”

* * * * *

To Mia the day already felt as if it had been a week long. From Nate Wilson’s killing, to finding Stan’s body, to Joy’s outburst, to the grueling session with the police and Chase bouncing off the walls, it had been an unending nightmare. Mia had spent most of the day sitting quietly in her chair in one corner of the conference room, recovered from her fainting spell thanks to Faith. But she was exhausted from the effort of trying to recapture the vision of the knife as she’d first seen it.

Getting into the crime scene had been a battle but finally Dan escorted her into Stan’s office.

“They normally would have taken the body by this time,” Holcomb said. “But you’re in luck. CSU took much longer to process everything than usual and they didn’t want the body moved until they were finished. So if you follow my rules, I’ll let you have a minute in there.”

“Thank you so much, Captain.” She made her voice as neutral as possible. No way would she let him bait her until she’d done what she needed to. “I appreciate it.” She stood patiently as Dan bent and tied plastic shields over her shoes and gave her a pair of latex gloves to put on.

“Watch the numbered markers,” he told her. “They indicate places CSU has marked to photograph and they may not be finished.”

Holcomb stayed in the doorway with Dan and watched her.

She nodded and made her way gingerly to Stan’s body slumped in his desk chair.

The scene was every bit as gruesome as Dan had described but no worse than some she’d seen in the past.

Forcing herself to ignore the smell of death and the copious amount of blood covering Stan Forbush’s body, she took a steadying breath and reached out toward the dead man. The moment she placed her hand on Stan’s arm the vision flooded her brain again. She saw the hand stabbing the knife in a downward motion, not once, but twice.

Remembering what Ellie had told her, she concentrated on blanking out everything around her and focusing on each detail in the image, trying to retain it as long as possible.

“Gloves,” she said suddenly. “Whoever did it wore gloves.”

“What kind of gloves?” Dan prompted. “What color?”

She pressed her hands to her temples. “Dark. Some dark color. And heavy. Thick.” Then it was gone.

No, she told them, she didn’t know if it was a man or a woman. No, she didn’t see anything else. She reached out her hand once more, to see if she could sharpen the vision. Suddenly she recoiled, as she was hit by a picture of spurting blood and an arm, making a chopping movement. A feeling of shock surrounded her.

“What is it?” Dan asked. “Something else?”

“He was surprised,” she answered slowly. “Either he didn’t expect the person in his office or whoever it was wore some kind of disguise. And he definitely wasn’t expecting the knife.”

“Why didn’t he yell?” Holcomb asked.

Mia closed her eyes and concentrated again, then opened them. “The first stab was to his throat and severed his vocal chords.” She felt the blood drain from her face and had to grip the edge of the desk to keep from fainting again. “He was alive when they cut off his thumb and gouged out his eyeball.”