Chapter 7
Grant knew they needed to be grateful that their coworkers on the case had arrived so quickly, and they would get to know them a bit and give them anything they had on the case.
He was just so damned tired.
He reminded himself that they might have a lot of flight hours once they were in the air and that they would need to catch up on sleep in the morning.
Both agents were quickly on their feet—polite people, Grant thought. Well, that was nice.
He stepped forward quickly with Shelly at his side, offering his hand to the two who rose to meet them.
“Grant Markham and Shelly Mahoney,” he said, hoping his smile was earnest and not too grim.
The man was tall, close to his own height, with dark hair and very dark blue eyes, leanly muscled and fit, as were most of the agents they worked with in the field; self-preservation called for staying at one’s best. The woman was of medium height, around five foot five; she had a soft shade of auburn hair that fell attractively around her well-formed face.
“And we’re Skye McMahon and Zach Erickson,” Skye said. “Nice to meet you, and I’m sorry we’re coming in so late—”
“Hey! We’re just glad you made it before we left,” Shelly said, looking at Grant. “We can run over a few things—”
“We’ve been studying everything we have so far, but of course …” Zach began. “Okay, let’s face it. Most importantly, we need to know what makes us all … okay, we’ll all be frank here. What makes us all weirdos?”
That did make them all laugh. A good start, a bit of a wake-up.
“I’m a touch guy,” Zach told them. “And it’s always best for me if I can get into a place as one of the first people after an event, but …
not always the case. Still, I can sometimes get a great deal, even a dead person to help me, if something is strong enough.
Skye sees the past. Painfully, in many cases. ”
“Oh!” Shelly said, looking at Skye with sympathy. “I’m so sorry—”
“Thank you, but please. When seeing the past helps the present, it’s an amazing gift.
So, now, of course, we all know why Jackson gathers us together—” She broke off, staring at Zach and rolling her eyes, “Weirdos that we are. And we’re different, I understand, from those first gathered, even from the Blackbird teams working in Europe. So?”
“So, we are incredibly lucky!” Shelly said. “We get to work with others we don’t need to hide the truth from about how and when we make our discoveries.”
“And isn’t that the truth of it!” Grant agreed.
“So, we kind of have a feel, and we’ll catch you up quick on what we know so far.
George Maynard was presumed dead outside his house, but it turned out that the ashes weren’t his.
We were able to find him, but he’s been put into a medically induced coma. Maybe he’ll wake up, but—”
“You already saw what he saw last?” Skye asked quietly. She was studying him. “You have some kind of a touch thing?”
“If I can reach a victim in time, I can see what they saw. Of course, certain things that I touch—” Grant continued.
“So, your gift is a lot like mine,” Zach said.
Grant nodded.
“Shelly?” Zach asked.
“She’s a summoner,” Grant told him.
They all stared at Shelly, and she winced slightly.
“Sometimes!” she said softly. “If I try to reach out with my mind … not always, and then again—”
“Then again, we can’t always count on finding DNA that hasn’t been corrupted, fingerprints that can be read by the best technology …
that’s life. Sometimes, things work. But when our things work, they work in ways that are often difficult at best to explain to others.
So, hey, yeah! People to work with who entirely believe you! ” Skye told them all.
“Without thinking that you’re crazy,” Grant added, nodding. “All right, so—”
“The two of you are about to keel over,” Zach said. “Go. Get some sleep. We’ve been reading. I’ve emailed your friend with the cops here, Perry Banyan. We’ll work with him, and I understand that Ainsley Drake, who has just about moved into the hospital, is more than willing to help us in any way.”
“We’ve been to George’s favorite restaurant, too,” Shelly told them. “The owner is Brendan Cosby, who seems like a nice guy. But everyone closely tied to the man is being investigated, and the restaurant is good when all else fails. Someone could pop in there, do or say something that’s a lead—”
“Something about curse tablets?” Skye asked. “That’s why you two are headed off to Rome?” she asked.
“It’s a long shot,” Grant said. “But I was in Rome when the whole thing came up, and I know that the man who was accused and committed suicide after the murder didn’t do it.”
“And so, you two are off!” Zach exclaimed, smiling and sweeping his arms out. “Grant Markham, you are in demand. Friends with Perry, in on the Rome thing. And Shelly is—”
“I’m just along for the ride. I was already headed here to meet Jackson Crow when all this came up, and …” She paused and shrugged, looking over at Zach. “I’m just along for the ride.”
“Well, go, get some sleep!” Skye insisted.
“I’ll take you up on that,” Shelly told her. “And we’ll be back as quickly as possible, of course. Unless you seasoned professionals have this all settled—”
“If only,” Zach said quietly. He gave off a little shudder. “Nothing to do with a special gift or DNA here,” he added. “Just something in my gut that warns me this is a bigger thing than any of us are expecting, and we’ll all be on it still when you return.”
“Global,” Shelly murmured. “Okay. It’s truly wonderful to meet you. And I am off to bed!”
She smiled and disappeared down the hallway.
Grant turned to the agents they’d now be working with.
“I doubt if we’ll be in Italy long. I’m hoping that maybe now that this has occurred, I can get someone to listen to me, to reopen the case.
But here’s what is bothering me. Rome and St. Augustine are nowhere near one another, and therefore I believe that whatever is going on must be going on through the internet. And if so—”
“We’ll need to get into whatever these people are doing on the dark web.
IPNs—you know, Internet Protocol Networks—that float around the world a few times, I imagine.
And I’m willing to bet we’re looking at something that will, in the end, prove to be murder for hire.
And possibly with a little history of the craft thrown in,” Zach said.
Grant nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
“Angela Hawkins Crow and her team at headquarters are the best. We will discover what’s going on,” Zach assured him. “Just …”
“Just?”
“Be careful,” Skye advised. She smiled. “And trust me! We intend to be very careful while you’re gone.”
Grant smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Okay, I’m going to get some sleep. Or try to at the very least. Glad we got to meet you!”
“Ditto,” Zach said. “We’ll be hitting the hay ourselves in a minute, just trying to make sure I’ve got in all sacked away in my memory.”
“Well, you’ve got Ainsley and the hospital, but … well, of course. We’re looking for a killer who dresses up like a giant black shadow. Or looking at the globe, killers who dress up like large black shadows.”
“They’ll make a mistake,” Zach said, “somewhere along the line; they always do. And since their curse tablets seem to need help, whoever is out there can’t know that we’re working with more than the usual fingerprints or DNA.”
Grant smiled at that. “Right! Okay, good night!”
“Night!” Skye echoed.
With a wave, Grant left them. He walked to the room he’d chosen in the old house and passed Shelly’s door on the way. He hoped she was sleeping. He was afraid she might not be—and that despite his exhaustion, he might not be able to sleep either.
What they were doing was quite possibly crazy. What could murders occurring in Rome and St. Augustine have to do with one another?
Quick, easy answer: Curse tablets!
But …
But the Italian police believed there had been one murder, committed by one man who had confessed to the murder, and then committed suicide. And here …
Well, they had an even stranger situation. A murder that was intended to be one man—or not. The victim proved to be someone else, and the man who had received the curse tablet was hanging on for dear life.
Grant tossed and turned. And he fought the knowledge that he didn’t want to leave St. Augustine at this time. But he knew—that gut instinct thing—that it would be important for him to get to Rome. Why, he wasn’t sure. Or maybe …
Shelly. Maybe Shelly could do something more where he had failed. And with her …
Well, things wouldn’t be all bad. She was proving to be an able partner. More. She was drawing upon something within him …
He tossed and turned. And eventually, slept—just in time for the alarm to go off. He dragged himself up and into the shower, quickly bathing and dressing.
When he emerged in the kitchen, he wasn’t surprised to find Shelly had beat him there.
“I’m glad you’re ready; we need to beat the morning traffic to Jacksonville,” he told her. He shrugged. “There are a few small airports closer, but we’re heading out over the Atlantic and ‘our people’ have agreements with JAX, so …”
“I know,” she told him. “I guess we’re lucky we have a plane—”
“That won’t leave without us if we’re stuck in traffic?” he asked.
“It’s really just pretty amazing,” she said, frowning. “I’ve been wondering all night just how this can possibly connect.”
“The world has become very small,” he reminded her.
She laughed. “Small—and it still takes a human being hours to trot across ‘the pond’!” she reminded him.
“So …”
“I already have a thermos of coffee for you, ready to go. Shall we?”
“Your bag?”
“Right there.” She pointed to a carry-on roller bag by the door.
“Private plane—you could have brought bigger luggage,” he reminded her.
She grinned. “I learned long ago to pack in one bag that I can always manage by myself. Trust me, I have plenty. And I’m thinking you might have learned the same thing, since I only see a roller bag and a little backpack by you!”