Chapter 17 #2
As Gabe watched Olivia’s graceful movements, he found himself contemplating what it would be like to be intimate with her. When he realized he was mentally putting himself into the role of her partner and her lover, he brought himself up short.
Don’t even think about it, he warned himself. She was bonded with Travis. She’d said she’d never been close to anyone before the ghost. There was no way another guy—one who wasn’t a result of Dr. Solomon’s experiment—was going to horn in on that relationship.
It was just a damn shame that she couldn’t have a normal sex life. Or could she? What was it that she and the ghost did together?
His gaze cut to her, knowing Travis was nearby and hoping the ghost couldn’t read the thoughts of the man who was watching them with envy.
* * *
Olivia and Travis kept up the practice as long as they could, trying different variations. Usually, they stood together. Sometimes they tried it several yards apart. And they also kept increasing their distance from the target until it was simply too far for a bolt to hit the can.
After a couple of hours, Olivia could see that their strikes were losing power.
The effort had exhausted her, and she could tell that Travis was flagging, too.
Were they going to defeat the purpose by burning out?
“Maybe we’re overdoing it,” she finally said.
From where he sat watching them, Gabe voiced his agreement. “You look like you’ve reached the point of diminishing returns,” he said. “Pack it in now, and you can see how it goes tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she agreed, silently admitting that she welcomed a reason to stop.
* * *
Surprisingly quickly, Harold’s facial recognition program hit pay dirt, partly because he was limiting his search area to Maryland and Delaware, the most likely places where Gabe’s little helper might reside.
It turned out she was Olivia Langston, and of all things, she was an artist who painted furniture—which was carried in some of the shops in St. Stephens. Maybe she’d run into Carson on one of her trips down here.
He went back to the database that listed all children from the Solomon Clinic. Jackpot. She was on the list. But after a few times, her mother had stopped bringing her back for testing. And Carson’s father had never brought him back.
Harold scrolled through her record. Her parents had been a wealthy couple who had probably thought that rules and contracts didn’t apply to them.
They had died in a small plane crash on the way to their vacation house.
Their main residence was in Frederick, and Olivia had inherited it after their deaths.
He found an interior design magazine that featured her work, as well as pictures of her workshop that looked like a converted old carriage house.
There were mentions of awards in the local paper and even in the Baltimore Sun and Washington Post.
He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin.
Her notoriety presented a problem. Carson had been a nobody fishing-charter captain.
She was a local celebrity. If he had her shot after interrogation, the police were going to do some investigating.
Better to arrange an accident at sea for both her and Gabe Bowman.
Yeah, maybe they’d been dating or something and had gone out cruising—and met with some nautical disaster.
But he was back to square one as far as his assessment of the Solomon Clinic spawn. Travis was dead, and there weren’t any other clinic children for her to hook up with. How the hell had she gotten tangled up in the detective’s investigation?’
Still, something out of the ordinary had happened to Roka. Did she have some powers on her own? Like he had suspected with Carson? Or was it some trick the detective had been able to pull off? It would have to be a trick, because there was no reason for him to have any paranormal powers.
Harold sat down at the computer, reviewing the videos that the cameras had taken of the car. Roka hadn’t been able to describe what had happened. As he watched, Harold couldn’t either. He just knew that something very odd had gone down.
Well, maybe he couldn’t get to the bottom of it—yet. But he wasn’t going to take any chances. When he scooped up the woman, he was going to make sure she was incapacitated before getting anywhere near her.
* * *
Olivia wavered on her feet and glanced up to see Gabe giving her a critical look. “You need to get some sleep. But we should eat something first. Um, is there anything around we can grab?”
“I’m not much of a cook, but I have takeout from some of the best restaurants and delis in town.”
“What do we have?”
“Let’s find out.” She led him to the kitchen and began taking cartons from the fridge.
Gabe selected some kung pao chicken. Needing something lighter, she went for a beet salad with grapefruit, feta cheese, and pistachio nuts.
“You actually like beets?” he asked, as he waited for the microwave to warm up his food.
“Yes. Try them. You may like them.”
“I’ll leave them for you.”
It was fully dark by the time she and Travis went upstairs to her bed, where she changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt.
“You’re wondering if you’re going to have to make a quick getaway,” Travis said.
“Unfortunately, I can’t lie to you,” she answered.
* * *
Goddard rarely went on missions with his operatives, but this time was an exception. There had been too many cock-ups lately, and he was going to make damn sure nothing else untoward happened.
He selected two good men, not including Roka.
One of them, Kentwell, had been on the kidnap operation.
The other, Green, had not been along, but he was an excellent choice for the evening's work.
He had a lot of technical experience, he knew how to work quickly and quietly, and he was a helicopter pilot.
He had Green prep the helo as he looked at some online maps for a suitable landing spot. Not near the Langston house, because that might alert her. Was the detective keeping her company? That would be convenient. They could deal with him at the same time.
After finding a landing place, he arranged for a vehicle to be on site when he got there.
Harold quickly gathered the equipment he needed. It also helped that Olivia Langston’s house was an old one. There’d be lots of opportunities for penetration.
Everything was in place before midnight.
He was whistling a jaunty tune as he went out to board the helicopter. Soon he’d know exactly what had happened to Roka.