Take the Monkey and Run (26 page)

“You?” He looked down his nose at me and I noticed his left eye had started to twitch. “Aside from leading us to Veronica, you've been rather disappointing.”

“You wouldn't say that if she had her guard dog,” Ronnie said, emphasizing the last two words.

“I'm not worried about that,” Barry said. “In fact, I'm not sure Miss Wilde here can do what she says she can do. In any case, she's expendable. Just keep that in mind.”

“You'd shoot me in a coffee shop in front of witnesses?” I said incredulously.

“To keep her—yes.”

“Why? What's so special about me?” Ronnie asked.

The conversation paused as the woman brought the coffee and set it on the table.

“I'm sure you know,” Barry said when the woman left. “You're a remote seer, like your grandmother, but what's more, you can sense others like you.”

“And you want to kill me because of it?”

“Of course not.” He looked genuinely shocked at her accusation.

“Can't blame her for thinking that,” I said in the most conciliatory voice I could manage. “You did kill her uncle.”

Ronnie's face displayed several emotions in rapid succession, finally settling on anger. “You killed my uncle?”

“That was a different situation.” Barry waved the question off as if it were a bothersome fly.

“Right. Is this where you tell her you won't hurt her if she comes with you willingly?”

“No. This is where I tell her I won't hurt
you
if you
both
come with me willingly.”

“No deal,” I said, trying to keep my tone blasé. “I know where I stand with you. You'll shoot me and dump me in an alleyway as soon as you get her out of here.”

“Very good. Yes, you're right.” He smiled at me like a teacher might when a typically dense student gets a question correct in class. Well, if we were at Freddy Krueger's school for the completely crazy.

“I'd rather not, of course. Keeping you both would be ideal.”

“Keeping us both for what?” I asked.

“Research, of course. I'd find out soon enough if your ability is real.”

So much for Logan's advice.

It wouldn't have mattered if I'd claimed to be a fraud—it seemed old Barry-boy was keen on “research.” Yippee.

I heard a buzzing noise and Barry touched his free hand to his ear. Glancing over, I saw something I recognized.

An oversized earpiece, exactly like the one Cornelius had seen on the man who was tying up . . . whom? Hattie or some other poor, terrified woman he believed was psychic?

A woman I was supposed to save.

Suddenly, the coffee I'd so enjoyed a minute ago felt like a glob of molten acid in my stomach. Bile rose into my throat. I swallowed it back.

“You're experimenting on psychics?” Ronnie asked.

“You wouldn't believe the advances I've made.”

“So this is all for the greater good—that's your pitch?” I scoffed.

“It's the truth.”

“Call me ignorant, but I don't see how murdering people is for the good of anybody.” I lifted my hand to stop his reply. “And you can spare me the ‘good of the many'
Wrath of Khan
speech. You're not doing this to advance humankind. You're doing this for you.”

The tic in his left eyelid became more pronounced as he narrowed his eyes.

“What have you done with your gift, Miss Wilde? What
good do you spread? You help little puppies and kitties find good homes. Save the occasional traumatized terrier? What a waste of your talent.”

“Not to the terrier,” I replied.

“Haven't you ever wondered what more you could contribute? There are scientists all over the globe studying any number of animals in an attempt to benefit mankind.”

“Yeah,” Ronnie said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “It would be a shame to break out after using that expensive makeup.”

“I'm talking about real science,” Barry said. “Understanding echolocation in bats or how homing pigeons navigate. Countless hours have been spent on these pursuits when you could go to the source. You can simply ask the bird, ‘What do you see? How does it work?' Instead, you contribute nothing.”

I was loath to admit it, but he kind of had a point.

“You both have the ability to tune into a frequency most others can't detect.” His eyes were zipping around even faster. “Do you know only four percent of the universe is made up of atomic matter? Molecules, air, dust, planets. What we think of as real. The rest—” He paused for effect. “Ninety-six percent, is comprised of dark matter and dark energy.

“It connects everything,” he continued. “If we can crack the code, we can tap into the vibration of the universe itself.”

Something in Ronnie's expression had changed. She seemed almost contemplative. She couldn't be buying into his nonsense.

Making sure to catch her eye, I said, “And all it costs to climb aboard the crazy train express is your life.” I turned to look at Barry. “I'd rather you shoot me now than be strapped to a table and used in an experiment.”

His eye twitch intensified.

“It would be short-lived if I'm right about you.” He focused on Ronnie. “Am I right about her?”

She looked at me, clearly not knowing what to say.

“It's okay, you can tell him the truth,” I said.

“Grace is a telepath.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes. I could tell when I touched her.”

Bingo. That was exactly what Barry was waiting to hear. And exactly what I needed to make her understand what was at stake.

“Magnificent.” He smiled. “We will be able to accomplish so much more now.”

“You know why he's so stoked, right?” I asked her. “He's not going to kill you, because he's going to use you to find other psychics. He'll probably use your
mamere
as leverage. Hurt her a little to keep you compliant.”

Ronnie's gaze slid over to zero in on Barry.

“Enough.” He jabbed the gun into my ribs, and this time, I didn't hide my wince.

“Just like he's doing with me,” I hissed.

“I'm losing patience with you, Miss Wilde.”

“You can walk away,” I told Ronnie. “He won't shoot you. Just get up and walk out of here.”

Her gaze flicked back to me. “He'll kill you.”

“Not if you find me first.”

Barry did something I hadn't expected. He laughed.

“She's not going to find you,” he said. “I've made sure of that, at least. So your little show of bravado is pointless. Don't believe me? Try it. Go ahead, try to sense her ability.”

Ronnie took a slow breath, licked her lips nervously, and focused on me.

I waited for the burst of heat I'd felt earlier.

It didn't come.

Ronnie's eyes widened, then she winced and brought her hand to her temple.

“Ronnie?” I said.

“It didn't work,” she said.

“What did you do to her?” I asked Barry.

He ignored my question. “You're both coming with me. Now.”

Ronnie started to slide out of the booth.

Still keeping the gun against my side, Barry grabbed my arm with his other hand and pulled me to my feet.

“Not that way,” he told Ronnie when she reached the front door. He canted his head toward the back of the coffee shop. Then in a lower tone he said to me, “I'd hate to have to shoot your dog in front of such a sweet little girl.”

I'd kept my mind shielded from Moss for just that reason—if he'd sensed my fear, he would have reacted. I had no doubt someone would have gotten shot, maybe more than one someone.

So I walked past the glass front door and didn't say good-bye to my friend. I didn't even look at him.

Tears pricked my eyes. But I swallowed the lump of emotion thickening in my throat.

What I was about to do wouldn't work with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was going to have to be calm and cold as a glacial lake.

Lucky for me, I've had a lot of practice with bringing on the deep freeze. Emotionally, anyway.

We stepped out the back door into a small parking area. The cars, which probably belonged to the employees, were unoccupied. At least out here, no innocent coffee drinkers would get shot.

“I meant it, you know.” I glanced at Barry, but my words were for Ronnie. “What I said before. I really would rather you shoot me now.”

Ronnie stopped, her back still to us. I saw her hands were in her pockets.

“Are you sure about that?” Barry asked, pointing the pistol more firmly in my direction.

“Yes.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ronnie start to move.
She pivoted, the stun gun ready. I stepped to the side, spun, and dove for cover behind a pair of trash cans.

An electric
tick-tick-tick
sounded, followed by a gurgled cry and a thud.

No gunshot.

“Ronnie?”

“I got him! Grace, holy smokes, we did it!”

With effort, I detangled myself from the stack of cardboard boxes I'd landed on and stood.

Sure enough, Barry was laid out, facedown on the ground, moaning.

“Should I hit him again?”

Why not?

“Do it,” I said.

Ronnie placed the Taser on his calf and zapped him again. Barry went rigid and was still.

“Don't move, asshole!” she said.

“Where's his gun?” I gasped, trying to pull my phone out of my pocket with useless, fear-frozen fingers.

“I think he's on top of it.” Ronnie was breathing as hard as I was.

“Secure the gun. I'm going to call Kai.”

The sound of tires on pavement made me look up. From around the side of the building, the front of a white van glided into view, like the nose of a great white shark.

Anya.

“Ronnie, we've got to go.”

“What?” Straightening, she looked over her shoulder and froze.

Anya had assessed the situation in less than a second. She'd slammed on the brakes and was getting out of the car.

I grabbed Ronnie's jacket and yanked her toward the coffee shop's back door. We tumbled through it and slammed it closed. Ronnie fumbled with the dead bolt for a second before managing to click it into place.

We backed away from the door, both jumping as it rattled
on its hinges when Anya banged against it. We glanced briefly at each other, then turned and ran.

Just as we rounded a corner into a small kitchen, a trio of bullets slammed into the door.

“So much for them not shooting me,” Ronnie said.

“I was talking about Barry. I guess Anya's not as much of a humanitarian.”

Throughout the shop, there were shouts and confused cries but no more gunshots. I assumed Anya had decided it was time to gather her fallen comrade and get gone.

“Come on.” I led the way through the front door and ran toward Moss.

“What was that noise?” the girl's father asked.

“Gunshots,” was all I had to say. He handed me Moss's leash, scooped his daughter up, and ran.

“Where do we go?” Ronnie asked.

“Hattie's.”

“But that's the first place they'll—” She broke off as understanding dawned. “We have to warn Jason and Kai.”

I was already on the move.

I'm not really built for speed, but I run a lot more often than most people and my body knows the drill. Ronnie was in pretty good shape—she could almost keep up. Moss, of course, had no problem running.

We sprinted down the block. I was praying that the fact that Anya would have to deal with a confused and unsteady Barry would give us enough of a head start.

I could have tried to call Kai, but it would have taken about as much time.

Charging through the kitchen door, we thundered up the stairs into the attic.

“Where's Jason?” Ronnie asked between heaving breaths.

Kai caught her arm before she could run back down the stairs.

“He left. He had to sign and fax some paperwork so I could get copies of your uncle's autopsy photos.”

“Oh.” She nodded.

“What's going on?” Kai asked, looking at me.

“Trouble,” I said. “Anya and Barry are on the way. They'll be here any minute. Crap! The bookcase. It's still open.”

Ronnie dashed out of the attic into the hall landing. She returned a moment later.

“That was fast,” I said.

“There's a lever up here to close it.”

“I love this house.”

Our discussion ended a moment later when we heard a car door slam.

“They're here,” I whispered. As if everyone weren't aware of that.

Kai put his fingers to his lips and lifted a piece of sturdy-looking pipe he'd picked up while I had my back turned.

Ronnie held her stun gun at the ready.

I squatted next to Moss, took a calming breath, and, sinking my fingers deeply into his fur, opened my mind to his.

Moss could hear Anya and Barry far better than us humans, so I urged him to stay quiet and still and asked him to listen.

Moss listen.

Good boy.

I closed my eyes and tried to pinpoint where the sounds Moss was hearing were coming from.

There were two sets of footsteps, as I'd expected. No voices.

The floor creaked and the rhythm of their movement changed. I opened my eyes and looked at Kai, then used my fingers to mime walking up an imaginary staircase, trying to indicate to him that they'd moved up to the second floor.

He nodded and shifted his gaze to Ronnie.

Our pursuers hadn't found the entrance to the hidden staircase in the library, which meant if they made it into the attic, they'd be coming through the door in front of Ronnie.

She nodded her understanding and, face grim, held her ground at the attic door.

I listened as Anya and Barry moved slowly from room to room below us, then heard a man's voice murmur, “They must be in the attic.”

No response from Anya. No movement.

My heart was slamming hard in my chest. Moss had started panting a little in reaction to our connection and my fear. The sound seemed unbelievably loud but I knew that was partly that I was hearing through both his ears and my own.

Still, it would be better to calm him down. I focused on regulating my breathing, and after a few moments he quieted.

The sound of a shuffling footstep came from the other side of the attic door.

Ronnie didn't react, and I wasn't sure if she'd heard it or not, but it didn't matter, because I knew she was aware of the doorknob being jiggled a second later.

Silence followed.

Then shuffling feet.

Bam!
The door rattled in its frame as someone tried to kick it in. We all jumped. But no one, not even Moss, made a sound.

A second kick slammed into the door.

“What are you doing?” Barry said, no longer trying to be quiet. “Don't you see the cobwebs? That door hasn't been opened in years.”

“It doesn't make sense,” Anya said. “They did not have time to escape.”

“They did if they had a car,” Barry pointed out. “Anya, the SUV they came in is gone. They got away.”

There was a curse and the sound of footsteps moving down the stairs.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and saw Ronnie do the same. Letting her eyes drift closed, she made the sign of the cross and whispered a quiet prayer.

None of us moved, even after we heard the back door to the house swish open then slam closed.

“Wait,” I whispered. I wanted to be sure it wasn't a trick. I wouldn't put it past Anya to pretend to be leaving and hang out to see if we scared little mice came scurrying out of our hiding places once we thought the cat had gone.

I listened through Moss and could hear two people walking down the back stairs.

When an engine started, I nodded, indicating the coast was clear.

Ronnie rushed to the window.

“They're in that big white van,” I said.

Kai hurried to join her at the window. “Can you see the plates?” he asked.

“No.”

“Oh God—they're getting away.” She turned to me, frantic. “Grace, what do we do?”

I didn't have an answer. There was no way we could make it down the stairs and into the street in time to hail a cab and follow them.

“I need somebody to tell me what happened,” Kai said. “How did they find us?”

“Barry followed us here,” I said. “Then to the coffee shop.” I briefly went over what happened, leaving out the part where I'd said I'd rather be shot than endure torture.

“I'm telling you, Kai, the dude is nuts. He was talking about vibrations of the universe. And how we're connected with black energy or something.”

“Dark energy,” Kai corrected.

“Whatever. It was crazy.”

“I don't know,” Ronnie said. “I think he's not too far off, at least with what he was saying about dark matter and dark energy. Max Planck was brilliant. Sure, he was an out-of-the-box thinker, like Tesla, but a genius.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “You bought into all that we-are-connected-with-tendrils-of-the-vibrations-of-the-universe stuff?”

“He was talking about Tesla?” Kai asked.

“Not exactly,” Ronnie said.

“Did I just step into the twilight zone? You speak science geek?” I asked Ronnie.

“Hey, I read.”

I shook my head, then realized something. “Where's Belinda?”

Kai looked at his watch. “Damn it.”

“She's really late.”

“Call Emma, make sure everything's okay.”

I did. “Yeah, she's fine,” Emma said when she picked up.

“Are you sure?”

“Still in with that client, but yeah.”

“Okay.” I explained what had happened as quickly as I could. “We can't risk staying here. We're coming to you.”

Kai called a cab while Ronnie and I gathered up the box of Hattie's stuff, Ronnie's notebook, the map, and all her chocolate.

Thirty minutes later we were walking through the courtyard door into Belinda's kitchen.

After greetings, introductions, and a brief overview of our run-in with Barry and Anya, Ronnie asked, “So, where's Belinda?”

Emma pointed to the hall and the closed pocket door separating the shop from the rest of the house. I'd never seen the door closed. Usually, Belinda kept the heavy curtain in place because it was easy to hear people come and go.

I tiptoed up to the door, listened, and heard a faint
meow
.

Voodoo.

Hey, my sweet kitty.

Out.

Just a second.

I thought I could quietly push the door open just enough to let the tiny kitten through without disturbing Belinda.

As the thought entered my mind, Voodoo said,
Gone.

I paused
. Gone? Who's gone—Belinda?

Belinda, gone
, Voodoo confirmed, and showed me where Belinda had gone and who she'd been with.

“Oh no,” I said, my hand still on the door.

“What?” Emma asked as she joined me in the hall.

“They have her,” I said. The knot in my stomach tightened into a lump of cold tension.

“What? Who?”

“Belinda.” I shoved the pocket door open. It rumbled into the wall and bumped to a stop.

I stepped into the shop and was followed by Emma, Ronnie, Hugh, and Kai. Moss stayed in the hallway to greet his kitten, who'd bolted from the room when the door had opened.

There was a man in the room, standing with his back to us.

I knew who it was before he turned around.

“Logan.”

“Grace,” he said, ignoring everyone but Kai, whom he acknowledged by making brief eye contact.

“Where is she?” Emma demanded in a menacing tone.

“I don't know.”

“What are you doing here, Logan?” I asked.

“I need to speak to you.”

“Well, speak.”

He just looked at me.

“Fine. Guys, can we have a minute?”

After a pause everyone filed out of the room. Everyone except Kai. I expected him to refuse to go, but instead he called out, “Moss, come here.”

Surprisingly, my dog came when Kai called. I cocked a brow at them both.

Giving Moss a pat, Kai said, “Take care of our girl.” He walked out of the room and slid the pocket door closed.

I turned to Logan. “What's wrong with you?”

“How much time you got?”

“Not much. So get on with it.”

“I came here looking for Anya, but I was too late.”

“Yes. And now she has my friend. Can you help us find her?”

“Anya is very good at covering her tracks.”

“How do you even know her?” I asked.

He didn't answer.

“Jesus, Logan, you came here to talk to me. Start talking.”

“The company I work for used to fund research on people with ESP.”

“Company?”

“It's a very big company with many interests worldwide.”

“You mean the government?”

His brow twitched—which was answer enough.

“What are you, a spy or something?”

“Or something.”

“Seriously?”

It made sense in a weird way.

“What about Anya? Who does she work for?”

“Anya's with SVR. Russian Intelligence. She is highly trained and she is lethal. Barry was one of ours. He's now working with the SVR.”

“Barry was in the CIA?”

“He was running a program called Deepfield. The objective was to study and develop psychic sensitivities.”

“How can someone develop psychic sensitivities?”

“He'd come up with a way to enhance a person's latent extrasensory abilities.”

“Enhance? With what?”

“I'm not clear on the specifics, but I think it has something to do with electromagnetic fields and DNA.”

Damn, Barry really was a mad scientist.

“He's a genius. But the work he did was slow. He'd been able to manipulate the DNA of rodents, but there were issues.”

“Like what?”

“Again, I don't know specifics. When he didn't make timely advancements, his funding was cut.”

“And he was fired?” I'd imagined the CIA having a more permanent solution for disgruntled employees.

“A few months back, Barry went off the grid completely. Vanished. A week ago, intel surfaced that he was in New Orleans.”

“And what? They sent you to find him?”

He didn't answer right away. “I volunteered.”

“Because of Anya?”

“Anya and I have some things to settle, but, no. I volunteered because of you.”

“Me?”

“The agency has always had an interest in the concept of ESP. Since the '40s, standing protocol has been, if operatives in the field encountered an individual displaying any kind of extrasensory ability, we made a note of it in our reports.”

I let that sink in. “You put me in a report.”

“Yes.”

I felt oddly betrayed by the admission.

“You gave my name to a psycho mad scientist.”

“I didn't know him. I just followed protocol.”

“Protocol.” I repeated the word.

“When it became clear what Barry was doing, I asked to be assigned to the op.”