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turned over an ass-load of data backing up my allegations.”
    “Call it the whole truth, then. You’ve left some details out of your story.”
    I shrugged at him, doing my best to seem nonplussed. “You’ll have to fill me in on the missing bits.”
    “All right.” Roberts tapped the table again, pursing his lips. “I saw an interesting piece of video last week. Four women with unusual hair colors, shopping at a thrift store a few miles from your house. They have an altercation with a very short-tempered couple before leaving the store. Fifteen minutes later, the couple dies in a gaming store across the street. Both of the deceased were participating in your drug trial.”
    “I recall the news story. It’s one of the reasons I went public. What’s your point?”
    “There’s no record of two of the women from the thrift store. One comes up on a California driver’s license from the 1960s. The fourth is your girlfriend, Rose Drake.”
    “I said that attack was one of the reasons I decided to go public. Rose and the others were terrified when they got home. After the rest of the story came out, I decided I had to do something. Rose had nothing to do with those two getting killed, but the media will still be all over her if this gets out.”
    “That’s understandable. That also gives you additional cause for confronting Dr. Page. You called him, told him you were blaming the drug trial for those two attacking Rose, and then you gave him his choice.”
    I sighed. The only way out was to try to minimize the damage. “Yes. The incident at the thrift store was the last straw. I told Grover I had him cold, and suggested he try to make a deal.”
    “That’s a noble gesture, and one that may have felt morally right, but it was stupid of you to do it. Still, you’re right—it’s what the Doctor would have done.”
    I nodded. “Exactly right. I don’t really care if you approve, but I’m glad you understand.”
    “What was his response?”
    “He offered to make me wealthy. I turned him down.” I spread my hands. “My mother doesn’t have long to live. I didn’t want her last weeks to be tainted by me selling out. And that’s the truth.”
    “Did he say anything else you haven’t mentioned?”
    I stood up and went to look out the window, staring down at the tiny folks scurrying along the 16th Street Mall. “Yes. He offered to cure my mother’s cancer. He seemed pretty sure he could do it.” I turned around and added, “The man who killed Grover Page was named Ingrim Thain. He was an undead necromancer, possibly a priest of Anubis, and probably not from Earth. His physical form was destroyed last night. I believe his essence was destroyed at the same time, but there is a chance he might still exist in some form.”
    “How dangerous would you say he is?”
    I met his eyes. “He can raise an army of the dead. How dangerous is that?”
    “I see.” Roberts stood up and slid a card across the table. It was blank except for an 800 number. “Don’t mention anything we discussed in this room. Stick to your story. Call me if anything else happens.”
    I took the card and put it in my wallet. “So, are you really FBI, or what? Men in Black? International Rescue?”
    “FBI, but in this case I’m also an ‘or what’.” He placed his hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn it. “I keep track of unusual events involving young ladies with odd-colored hair.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “You profile women who dye their hair?”
    He shook his head. “No. I look for women who don’t need dye.” He smiled and cocked his head to the side. “It’s amazing how many young ladies matching that description have been recorded selling gold coins, jewelry, gems, and uncut precious stones. Sometimes, young ladies like that get careless, and count on people simply forgetting what they saw. Sometimes, young ladies like that need help. Sometimes, the people they’re attached to need help. That’s where I and a few