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Authors: David Sakmyster
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weight. We should probably start. Come on, we can go to the Hurleys’ house, use their basement. Kids down there have hundreds of pencils, markers and paper. We’ll find him.”
A minute later, when Caleb was alone again, they approached him. Phoebe gave him a hug, then backed away, searching his eyes. “You going to be all right? I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Not now,” Caleb said, clenching his eyes shut, drawing Phoebe back into a crushing hug, not wanting to let go. “I’ve got to focus on Alexander. Nothing else until he’s safe.”
Sniffling, Phoebe nodded. “You told that agent about Xavier, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Thought I’d give them something to work on. Maybe they’ll dig up a clue from another angle while we try it our way. She’s got her people checking on Montross, but she wants to be in on our session.”
“What!” Phoebe asked at once. “Are you nuts?”
“Well,” Orlando said, “she is cute”. He craned his neck to watch the agent as Phoebe glared at him.
Caleb cleared his throat. “We’re going to need federal assistance with this. Travel arrangements, security, weapons. We’re lucky we drew an agent with an open mind.”
“Yeah,” said Phoebe. “Lucky, or something else.”
“We are talking about the government here,” Orlando said in a suddenly refrained voice. “They screwed you over last time.”
“We won’t make the same mistake again,” Caleb voiced.
“No we won’t.” Phoebe crossed her arms. “I’ll RV her while you guys focus on Alexander.”
“No,” Orlando said. “You’re closer to your nephew, you’ll get a better hit. I’ll spy on the FBI chick.”
Phoebe glowered at him. “Perv.”
“Anyway, I’m surprised that we haven’t gotten a call.”
“Oh crap.” Caleb dug into his jacket pocket. “My phone battery was dying, so I turned it off.”
“I’ll call your voicemail,” Orlando said, grabbing his phone before Phoebe got hers.
In a moment, Orlando handed over the phone and Caleb entered his code.
Caleb held up a hand, signaling to Agent Wagner. “It’s him.”
Renée walked over, and Caleb gave her the phone after he listened to the message. “You may want to have your people run that through their analytics. See if they can pinpoint a location.”
“What did Xavier say?” Phoebe asked.
“He said I’d know where to meet him. But to come alone.”
“Or he kills Alexander.”
“Of course,” said Orlando. “Got to be dramatic.”
“Come where?” Renée asked.
“He said I’d remember, the place where he last told me I’d see him again.”
“When was this?”
“In Alexandria. Twelve years ago. He backed out of a project we were working on. Then said he’d see me again.” Caleb closed his eyes, remembering. “At the mausoleum.”
“Mausoleum?” Renée asked. “In a cemetery somewhere?”
“I’m not sure,” Caleb answered. “But I have a thought.”
“Care to share?”
“After,” he said, pointing to the neighbors’ house. “Now we need to get to work.”
#
The Hurleys brought coffee for Renée, green tea for Phoebe and Caleb, and located a can of Red Bull for Orlando. “Drink of champions and psychics everywhere,” he proclaimed, grinning at Renée who just frowned and sipped at her coffee.
They were all seated around a ping pong table. The basement was furnished with a circular rug over the concrete floor, a dusty basketball game in the corner next to an equally dusty stair machine and a 20-inch TV.
“Now I’m not so sure about this,” Renée said. She held up a pad of blank white paper and a pencil. “Really, I can just observe and check on my colleagues, see how the search is going for this Xavier Montross.”
“They won’t find him,” Caleb said.
“We’ll have a dossier on the guy in an hour, everything from his favorite TV shows to how often he wet the bed as a kid. We’ve got his picture at all the airports, borders, etc. Anything he does, down to the
A minute later, when Caleb was alone again, they approached him. Phoebe gave him a hug, then backed away, searching his eyes. “You going to be all right? I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Not now,” Caleb said, clenching his eyes shut, drawing Phoebe back into a crushing hug, not wanting to let go. “I’ve got to focus on Alexander. Nothing else until he’s safe.”
Sniffling, Phoebe nodded. “You told that agent about Xavier, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Thought I’d give them something to work on. Maybe they’ll dig up a clue from another angle while we try it our way. She’s got her people checking on Montross, but she wants to be in on our session.”
“What!” Phoebe asked at once. “Are you nuts?”
“Well,” Orlando said, “she is cute”. He craned his neck to watch the agent as Phoebe glared at him.
Caleb cleared his throat. “We’re going to need federal assistance with this. Travel arrangements, security, weapons. We’re lucky we drew an agent with an open mind.”
“Yeah,” said Phoebe. “Lucky, or something else.”
“We are talking about the government here,” Orlando said in a suddenly refrained voice. “They screwed you over last time.”
“We won’t make the same mistake again,” Caleb voiced.
“No we won’t.” Phoebe crossed her arms. “I’ll RV her while you guys focus on Alexander.”
“No,” Orlando said. “You’re closer to your nephew, you’ll get a better hit. I’ll spy on the FBI chick.”
Phoebe glowered at him. “Perv.”
“Anyway, I’m surprised that we haven’t gotten a call.”
“Oh crap.” Caleb dug into his jacket pocket. “My phone battery was dying, so I turned it off.”
“I’ll call your voicemail,” Orlando said, grabbing his phone before Phoebe got hers.
In a moment, Orlando handed over the phone and Caleb entered his code.
Caleb held up a hand, signaling to Agent Wagner. “It’s him.”
Renée walked over, and Caleb gave her the phone after he listened to the message. “You may want to have your people run that through their analytics. See if they can pinpoint a location.”
“What did Xavier say?” Phoebe asked.
“He said I’d know where to meet him. But to come alone.”
“Or he kills Alexander.”
“Of course,” said Orlando. “Got to be dramatic.”
“Come where?” Renée asked.
“He said I’d remember, the place where he last told me I’d see him again.”
“When was this?”
“In Alexandria. Twelve years ago. He backed out of a project we were working on. Then said he’d see me again.” Caleb closed his eyes, remembering. “At the mausoleum.”
“Mausoleum?” Renée asked. “In a cemetery somewhere?”
“I’m not sure,” Caleb answered. “But I have a thought.”
“Care to share?”
“After,” he said, pointing to the neighbors’ house. “Now we need to get to work.”
#
The Hurleys brought coffee for Renée, green tea for Phoebe and Caleb, and located a can of Red Bull for Orlando. “Drink of champions and psychics everywhere,” he proclaimed, grinning at Renée who just frowned and sipped at her coffee.
They were all seated around a ping pong table. The basement was furnished with a circular rug over the concrete floor, a dusty basketball game in the corner next to an equally dusty stair machine and a 20-inch TV.
“Now I’m not so sure about this,” Renée said. She held up a pad of blank white paper and a pencil. “Really, I can just observe and check on my colleagues, see how the search is going for this Xavier Montross.”
“They won’t find him,” Caleb said.
“We’ll have a dossier on the guy in an hour, everything from his favorite TV shows to how often he wet the bed as a kid. We’ve got his picture at all the airports, borders, etc. Anything he does, down to the
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