Chapter 19 #2
What are we going to do? she asked in desperation.
His answer was no comfort. I don’t know.
She knew Smith couldn’t see Travis, but she could. His face was suffused with horror and regret, as the man who had killed him hovered over her.
He turned away from her and went to his laptop, where he called up a list of names, scrolling rapidly through the entries. She watched him anxiously, wondering what was coming next. Closing her eyes, she turned her head away. The next thing she knew, he was shaking her—hard.
His voice was a low, menacing growl as he said, “The Howell Institute doesn’t have Carson as one of the children who were brought back to the clinic for testing.”
She feigned surprise. “Huh?”
Smith shook her again. “The Howell Institute. He’s not listed as a returnee.”
She stared up at the man, trying to order her thoughts.
Stick to your story, Travis told her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you saying I didn’t meet Travis at the clinic? That’s wrong.”
Anger flared on Smith’s face. “It says he didn’t go back.”
“I...can’t help that,” she answered, trying to put some substance behind the words.
“And how did Bowman find you?”
Travis moved to her side. Tell him he said he saw your name on a list of children from the clinic.
“Uh, he said he saw my name on a list of children from the clinic.”
“That list is very private.”
“Well, it’s what he said.”
Travis’s voice was urgent. We have to make sure Gabe gives him the same story. He saw your name on the Howell Institute list.
But how can you speak to him mind-to-mind?
I don’t know. But I have to do it. He went on rapidly. Keep Smith here while I try to reach Gabe. And, if you can, send me power.
I don’t think I can.
Try. Keep trying.
Before she could respond, she knew Travis had left the room.
Olivia clenched her fists. Keep this monster here? That was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew that Travis was right. She and Gabe had to have the same story.
“Who are you?” she asked in a weak voice. “Why did you bring me here? Where are we, anyway?”
He turned back to her. “You can call me Mr. Smith.”
It was a relief to hear the name. Now she didn’t have to pretend she didn’t know who he was.
“And why did you bring me here?”
“Because you showed up outside Travis Carson’s house when the detective dragged my man in there.”
She shuddered.
“Why were you there, exactly?” he demanded.
“I wanted to—help out.”
“Why?”
“Travis had approached me in town. I liked him.”
Smith’s gaze turned speculative. “And what kind of reaction did you have to him?”
How much should she say? What would Smith believe? He knew a lot about the clinic and the children. “I was attracted to him.”
“Did you do anything about it?”
“I...didn’t want to get involved.”
Smith leaned over her, his eyes sharp. “But you felt a pull toward him.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Did you fuck him?”
Oh Lord, what should she say?
His fingers closed painfully over her arm, and he shook her roughly.
“Did you fuck him?” he asked again.
“No.”
“Why not? Weren’t you attracted to him?”
“Yes.” She focused on the pain of his fingers on her arm. It was helping her brain function again. “But there was an intensity between us. It gave me a headache.”
“Ah.” Smith looked excited now.
“That scared me. I’d never felt anything like that before. I ran away from him. Maybe that was why I felt so bad when that detective said he was dead.”
Smith gave her another good shake and pushed away from her. “Well, that’s a new one,” he muttered. “Are you lying?”
“Why would I lie?”
He shook his head. “Maybe I’d better find out what the detective knows about it.” He considered for a moment. “And how did you hook up with the detective anyway?”
“He approached me.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. He said something about a list.”
“So you say.”
Smith turned toward the door, and Olivia felt a spurt of relief—followed immediately by panic. Had Travis been able to contact Gabe?
She remembered then that he had asked her to send him power. Was there any hope she could do it?
With everything she could summon, she reached for Travis and could just barely feel him at the edge of her awareness. Was he too far away for her to send him anything? And did she have any energy to send?
* * *
After one last look at Olivia, Travis turned away and slipped through the wall into a hallway.
As he got farther away, he could feel the link with Olivia stretching.
How far could he get from her? And what would happen if he got too far?
His pace slowed, but he realized that would do him no good.
If he couldn’t get to Gabe, they were in deep shit.
When he felt like he could hardly move another inch farther from her, he finally reached the room where Gabe was stashed. That was a good sign, he told himself. At least he had enough awareness of the man to find him.
Stepping through the wall, he found himself in a small, dark chamber set up like a cell. Gabe was lying on a hard bunk, his hands and legs bound and his eyes closed.
Okay. Now he was here. But that was only a small part of what he had to accomplish. He had to get through to the man and tell him the story that would save Olivia. Was there any way to do that?
He looked around and spotted a camera up at ceiling level. The prisoner was being watched. That was an unfortunate complication.
Although he’d never talked directly to the other man, he had to do it now.
But how? They’d been together for a while—maybe he could reach him.
He had to because Olivia’s life or her freedom might depend on it.
There was no telling what torture Smith would put her through if he knew she had her own private ghost.
He flexed his fingers, then reached to put a hand on the detective’s shoulder.
At first, there was no response. Using what power he could summon, he shook the man.
It wasn’t much. Nothing like the effort he’d put out when he’d rocked Pete’s car.
But it was something. More of his energy must be coming back.
And maybe somehow Olivia was helping him.
Gabe’s eyes flew open. “Waaa?” He looked around, seeing no one.
It’s Travis. You have to focus on what I’m saying. You have to listen.
The plea got no response. Instead, Gabe began testing his bonds. Handcuffs secured his wrists, but his legs were tied with rope. Pulling his legs toward his hands, he began to work at the bonds.
Travis put his hand over the knot Gabe was working on, and he went still, glancing around.
He started to speak but then thought better of it.
Good man. He must have figured out that anything he said could be overheard.
Still, he seemed perplexed as his features took on a strained look, like he was trying to remember a name he couldn’t quite recall. Is that you, Travis?
Yes! Thank God you can hear me.
Gabe shook his head. If it’s you, give me a sign.
Travis pressed his hand against Gabe’s.
Okay, I felt that. Or is it a hallucination?
It’s me.
Maybe I heard something. I’m not sure.
Travis wanted to shout in frustration but calmed himself. He wasn’t exactly getting through, but there had to be a way to do it.
He moved his finger against the back of Gabe’s hand and wrote. “In S’s house. U never heard of him.”
Gabe gave a fraction of a nod.
Travis wrote, “Wants to know why O was with U.”
The next part was harder, but he laboriously spelled out the crux of the message. “U read Howell Institute records.”
Howell Institute?
“Y”
Again, he laboriously spelled out, “O said she met me there as a kid. And you saw her name on the list.”
Gabe shook his head. Not sure I’m getting this.
Travis tried to write fast. “Big danger if S knows O comms with me now.”
Gabe sagged against the bunk. I don’t know...
“Remember her name on the Howell Institute list. U don’t know S.”
Before Travis could write more, the door slammed open, and a man barreled into the room, a look of fury on his face. Who else could it be but Smith?