Chapter Eleven

Once again, the atmosphere in the Carpenter Techtronics conference room was hostile and edgy. Except for Ladd Tolbert, who was always a quiet presence, Dan thought everyone at the table looked like candidates for caffeine rehab.

Chase, dressed in hastily donned jeans and a carpenter T-shirt, was pacing as usual. His hair was rumpled from raking his fingers through it, and a muscle jumped constantly in his cheek. Jittery would have been too mild an adjective.

Lady Joy, as Dan had taken to calling her, was perfectly put together in a hot pink pants suit, not a hair or smidgen of makeup out of place. But in contrast to her angelic appearance, her entire contribution so far had been to repeat frequently, “Oh, Chase, for Christ’s sake, sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”

Ladd, dressed in his customary three-piece dark-gray suit, sat at one end of the table, trying to calm Lucas, who was ranting and raving about media coverage, loss of contracts, and why the hell did Dan wake them up at some god-awful hour to find out whether they were alive or dead?

“Please don’t tell me your little psycho told you someone was after us.” Lucas twisted his lips in a grimace. “Enough is enough.”

Dan thanked his marine training for allowing him to hold on to his temper. “As it turns out, fortunately none of you were shot. But a body’s turned up that may be connected to the car bombing.”

Chase stopped his pacing. “What do you mean? Whose body? What does he have to do with us?”

“I’m going to let Mark give you all the details as soon as he gets here. He talked to his contact at the SAPD and got all the information they had. But make no mistake. Mia got sent a clear message, and I’d have been remiss if I didn’t check on everyone’s safety.”

“Are we supposed to wait around all day for Mark?” Joy demanded. “Exactly when will he be here?”

“Right now.” Mark walked into the room accompanied by another man and moved to one side of the table. “This is Rick Latrobe,” he said, and the man with him gave a brief nod. “Another one of the Phoenix partners. He’ll be participating in the process, too.”

“I’m glad to see you’re bringing in more help,” Lucas said. “Oscar’s well-being is primary. And we can’t have people running around trying to steal him or disrupt Friday’s presentation in any other way. We have big bucks riding on this.”

“What’s this rumor about a body?” Ladd asked. “And what does it have to do with us?”

“It’s no rumor,” Mark answered. He gave them a concise report on Nate Wilson, his history, and the discovery of his body. “The police are convinced someone hired him to blow up Mia’s car, preferably with her in it. Someone who doesn’t want any more of her visions involved in this situation.”

“It seems a somewhat stupid thing to do,” Dan commented. “If everyone looks at her visions with such skepticism, putting her in the spotlight like this defeats the purpose of negating her.”

“Maybe she blew it up herself,” Joy put in, hate glittering in her eyes. “You know, to convince us someone believes her and wants her out of the way. For all we know, she’s doing this to get publicity for herself.” She flipped her ponytail. “Just the kind Chase needs the least.”

For the hundredth time Dan asked himself what it was that Chase saw in this woman. They were such complete opposites—the engineer who thought pressing his pants was dressing up and the blonde angel with the she-devil personality who had her evil eye cast on the top rung of Chase’s money ladder. She must be some dynamo in bed. Hell, a woman like her would have to be to keep any sane man interested.

“Don’t you think that would be carrying things a little too far, Miss Rivers?” Dan couldn’t keep the hint of sarcasm out of his voice. “And I hardly think Mia Fleming would blow up her car with someone in it just to give validity to what she says. Whatever you may think of her, she’s not a killer. She’s very upset that someone was murdered in her place.”

“I still can’t believe anyone really takes her mumbo jumbo that seriously,” Joy continued, her voice disdainful. “I work with facts, and the fact is, Oscar is safe and sound. No one’s tried to sneak him out of here. End of discussion, so let’s cut out all this bullshit and get on with business.”

Dan waited a long moment before answering, forcing a calm and quiet into his voice that he was far from feeling. “Apparently someone does take her seriously, someone who either believes in psychic abilities or doesn’t want to take the chance that others do. Especially if they’re involved with Carpenter Techtronics. And I hate to say it, but we can’t discount the possibility it’s someone involved with this company.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Chase’s voice was raspy. “I’d say it’s much more likely to be someone outside the company. If Oscar disappears before Friday, everyone here will be in bad shape because Carpenter Techtronics will take a big hit. We’ve got a lot invested in this project. No one’s going to jeopardize that.”

“I think someone wants you to think a Carpenter employee is involved,” Lucas interjected. “The whole thing is just too obvious. Too staged. Don’t you think we’d be smart enough to be a little more subtle about it?”

“We’re not passing up on any options,” Dan told him. “That’s one of the reasons Rick is here. We’ll be communicating with our home office as we work through all possibilities, but we have to look at all Carpenter employees, at least to eliminate them.”

“You might try checking out our enemies, too,” Chase pointed out. “We certainly have enough of them. There are plenty of people who are envious of our success. People who don’t want Oscar to succeed.”

“People who’d be happy to take down Carpenter Techtronics,” Joy added. “I think you’d better start looking there first. I may not be a partner in this company, but I have just as much a vested interest. Chase tells me you people are the best at what you do. Maybe you should start doing it.”

Rick tensed. “I think you’ll be more than satisfied with our investigation, Miss Rivers. I understand research was a big part of your job as a senatorial aide. Well, that’s what we do to find the answers. Research.”

“How do you know so much about me?”

He opened his briefcase, reached inside and pulled out the folder he had stashed there. “I know about all of you. Client profiles are part of our business procedures.”

Chase’s face turned an unpleasant shade of red, and anger flashed on the faces of the others.

“Dan?” Chase’s voice hinted at a sense of betrayal. “I thought we were friends, buddy. Now you’ve got your agency investigating my people and accusing us of crimes?”

“I’ll answer that,” Rick said. “Chase, we do this with everyone, even members of our own family. We don’t want any surprises coming out of the closet. It’s for your own protection as well as ours.” He snapped his briefcase shut. “Of course, if you’re unsatisfied with the way we work, you’re free to pay our expenses to date, and we’ll leave you to it.”

“No. Hey, wait a sec.” Chase was pacing again. He stopped in front of Dan. “We’re all just a little over the top here. The contracts riding on Oscar will put us in clover for years to come. Plus establish us in an elite cadre of electronics companies.”

“Wait a minute,” Joy interrupted. “Where’s Stan? Why isn’t Oscar’s daddy at this meeting?”

“I’ll check.” Lucas picked up the phone on the sideboard and punched in three numbers. He stood there, jingling the change in his pocket, waiting for an answer. Irritated, he hung up and dialed again. Finally he banged the receiver back into the cradle. “He’s not answering. I’m calling Security to get him out of his office and haul his ass up here. He needs to know what’s going on, too.”

“Is anyone doing anything about the media circus out front?” Ladd asked while they waited. “Our men are having a tough time holding them off.”

“As soon as we’re finished with this meeting,” Dan told him, “I’m taking two of our men from the team working inside the building right now, and we’ll get it taken care of. Meanwhile we need to discuss the plan for the next three days.”

The door opened and everyone looked at it expectantly, thinking it was Stan. But instead Faith and Mia entered. They quietly went to a corner of the room and sat down away from the conference table.

“What’s she doing here?” Joy snapped. “We already have enough trouble with the media because of her. Can you imagine what they’ll say if they see her here again?”

“No one saw us come in,” Faith said quietly. “I had Mia duck down in the car, and we came in through the private parking garage.”

At that moment the phone in the conference room rang. Ladd picked it up, murmured a few words, then turned with a shocked look on his face.

“That was Security. You aren’t going to believe this. Stan’s dead. Someone’s killed him.”

“He was stabbed, wasn’t he?’ Mia asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes.” Ladd frowned. “How did you know that?”

But Mia never answered him. She simply folded over in the chair and slid to the floor.

* * * * *

The chaos was giving Dan a headache. Normally a man in complete control of everything, it frustrated him that the situation seemed to be slipping out of his grasp. Somehow word of Stan’s grisly demise had spread throughout the building. Every floor was alive with gossip, and his Phoenix staff was being bombarded with questions. Containing them was almost an impossibility. He thanked God for Mark and Rick, who began assigning available Phoenix personnel to each floor for containment purposes.

And especially Faith, God bless her, who took charge of Mia. She’d had the good sense to shoo him away, when all he’d really wanted to do was to stay with Mia. Faith reminded him that he needed to get the hell down to Stan’s office to take control of the situation and any crucial evidence that might be found.

“She’ll be fine,” Faith assured him. “Go. I can handle this.”

When he left she had Mia stretched out on the floor, her feet propped up on the rung of a chair. She’d grabbed the pitcher of water from the sideboard and a cloth and was bathing Mia’s face. He paused one more time but Faith shouted, “Go. You’re needed.”

He nodded once, then forced himself to leave before he couldn’t. He followed the sound of pounding feet down the hallway and around a corner to where Stan’s office was located. The security guard who’d found him was stationed at the door to the inner office. Rick had made himself a human barricade, not allowing anyone into the room.

“We’ve called the police,” he kept repeating. “You can look but don’t come in. We have to preserve all the evidence.”

He stood aside when Dan arrived and showed him the bloody sight inside. And bloody was definitely the word for it. Someone had used a very sharp knife knife to slit Stan Forbush’s chest, cut off his thumb, and gouge out an eyeball. Dan had seen a lot of horrors in his years in the marines and in many of the missions he’d been on for Phoenix, but he felt his stomach roil at the scene before him.

Stan had bled profusely. His desk was literally covered with it, and it had spurted and dripped everywhere around him.

“Jesus Christ.” Ladd peered between Rick and Dan. “Somebody really butchered the poor bastard.”

Dan had finally managed to herd everyone back out into the hallway. He closed the door to Stan’s office. “No one needs to go in there. We’ll wait right here for the police.”

Meanwhile, Mark had pulled out his cell and called his contact at the SAPD. He looked grim when he ended the call.

“They’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” he told everyone. “Crime-scene technicians, the works. Captain Alan Holcomb, head of the major crimes unit is a friend of mine. He’s coming himself because Carpenter Techtronics is such a high-profile entity. So that means no one goes into this office, and no one touches anything until they get here.”

“Has anyone thought about why Stan’s thumb and eyeball were taken?” Chase asked.

Everyone stared at one another with blank looks.

Then Lucas snapped his fingers. “Jesus Christ. Of course. The biometrics.”

“Someone may have already tried to use them,” Chase said, moving down the hall. They could hear him cursing as he ran.

Lucas raced behind him with Rick right on their heels.

“We set up three layers of security around Oscar,” Dan told Mark. “The first two only require being authenticated by the guards. But to get into the clean room where Oscar’s stored, we have a biometric identification system that I used for previous projects. That one requires a thumbprint and a retinal scan.”

Mark stared at him. “You think someone’s going to try using Stan’s physical ID to get into the room? They’d have to get past the guards.”

“The body was discovered shortly after nine. We don’t know yet what time the kill took place. Whoever it was would have had to move quickly. People start coming to work here at eight.”

But before Mark could say anything else, Rick was back, grim-faced. He motioned to his partner.

“You’d better come see this, Daniel.”

Any time Rick used his full given name, Dan knew it meant serious trouble.

“Stay here and keep people away from the crime scene,” he told Mark. “I’ll be right back.”

The Phoenix security guards at both the inner and middle entrances were sprawled on the floor, the doors to the two rooms standing wide open. Chase was already in the “clean” room, removing Oscar from his cage.

Rick knelt beside one of the guards, checking him over. “Strong pulse,” he said, his finger on the man’s carotid artery, “and no sign of a wound that I can see. Not even a knot on the head.”

“I don’t see how one person could disable four guards at the same time,” Dan remarked. “These guys are too well trained.”

Rick used a pen from his pocket to lift an empty coffee cup lying on the floor beside one of the men. “Where did this come from?”

“The cafeteria brings coffee twice to each shift change,” Dan told him. “Chase set that up when we brought the team in.” He looked around and spotted three more cups at various spots they’d rolled to.

“So someone posing as a cafeteria employee brought them drugged coffee?” Rick frowned.

“Has to be.” A muscle jumped in Dan’s cheek. “It’s the only answer. It provided a very small window of opportunity to get in, switch the robot, and get out.”

“Why switch? Why not just take it?”

“Because I think the plan depends on our not believing the robot was actually stolen. That’s why Chase is running a demonstration. If this is the real Oscar, it means we disrupted the operation in time.”

“Well,” Rick sighed, “we can try to get one of our men to ID someone, but I think it’s a waste of time. This wouldn’t be anyone who could be recognized. Too chancy.”

He reached into an inside jacket pocket, pulled out three additional baggies, and sealed the cups in them.

“Never leave home without them.” He grinned at Dan’s questioning look.

Chase was heading past them, Oscar cradled in his arms, Lucas right beside him.

“I’m going to run another test, just to be sure someone didn’t leave me with a very good but useless replica.”

“Let’s do it in the lab,” Lucas suggested. “We don’t have time to take it off the corporate campus again, and it will give us a good test of Oscar’s ability to penetrate metal. I’ll call the team leader and get everyone going.” He had his cell phone out and was already talking in it as he ran down the hall.

“Find who did this,” Chase said to Dan in an angry voice, then took off after Lucas.

The men on the floor were beginning to come around. As they pulled themselves to sitting positions and realized what happened, the expressions on their faces alternated between humiliation and terror at the reaction of their boss.

“This is our fault,” Dan told them. “Not yours. We didn’t expect drugged coffee, so I’ll take the fall this time. But we are expected to be alert at all times. Keep the security tightly in place. Keep that in mind from now on.”

“Mr. Romeo, I . . .” One of the men began.

“I have to get back to the conference room. The police will be here any minute.” He turned to Rick. “You get every scrap of information from them you can. Once Oscar’s back in place, their lives will depend on how well they guard him. I don’t care if they never have another cup of coffee.”

“Got it,” Rick told him and turned back to the men.

Dan stopped in the hall and speed-dialed Adam.

“You have reached the Dragonslayer,” was the greeting he heard.

“Well, get busy slaying him. I want you to do a search for any company going head-to-head with Carpenter Techtronics. Anyone who might be arrogant enough, or desperate enough, to buy off a company employee for a little industrial espionage. “

“And you need this yesterday, I’m guessing.”

“Sooner than that. Before someone else gets killed.” He hung up before Andy could pepper him with questions.

As Dan reached the reception area the elevator doors opened and four men and three women in suits emerged, followed by a photographer and two people in crime-scene coveralls.

“I’m Captain Holcomb,” one of the men said. He was short and stocky, with short, graying brown hair. His dark-brown eyes, however, were shrewd, and he gave an impression of great power. “And you are?”

“Dan Romeo. CEO of Phoenix Agency.”

The men shook hands. The captain’s grip was strong and just as no-nonsense as his appearance.

“I expected to see Mark here,” the captain said.

“He’s guarding the crime scene. Too many sightseers. We have another one of our partners here, also,” Dan told him. “Rick Latrobe. We had an incident in the area where the robot is kept, and he’s holding down the fort there.”

“An incident?” Holcomb’s eyebrows rose.

“Someone’s made some careful plans to steal that new toy. We think we short-stopped it in time, but Chase is running a test just to be sure. You’ll be able to watch them run it as soon as you do what you need to here.”

Holcomb grunted. “As soon as the media gets wind of this, you’ll have another problem. I left plenty of uniforms downstairs, just in case, but we need to get things under control here right this minute.”

They’d reached the conference room now, and Dan showed them inside. Faith and Mia sat quietly in the corner. Mia, holding a cup of tea, gave Dan a tremulous smile and a quick nod of her head.

I’m okay.

God, he thought. That woman is incredible.

Then he got back to business. Ladd and Joy were seated at the table, waiting with angry impatience, while one of the Phoenix security men stood by as a silent sentinel.

A lanky, blond-haired man in khakis and polo shirt whose face Dan had never seen before stepped forward.

“Paul Harrison,” he explained, shaking hands with both Dan and Holcomb. “The company’s money overseer. I usually hide out in my office. However, when I heard what happened to Stan, I thought I should introduce myself and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Ladd rose from his chair. “Ladd Tolbert,” he told Holcomb. “Attorney for Carpenter Techtronics, as well as Chase’s personal legal representative.”

Holcomb glanced over at Joy, sitting in her chair as if she was holding court. “And you would be?”

“Joy Rivers.” Her chin lifted slightly. “Mr. Carpenter’s fiancée.”

Holcomb looked at where Mia and Faith were sitting, and a sour look washed over his face. “Well, Miss Fleming, we meet again.”

“Captain.” She nodded at him, her own face a mask.

Everyone in the room felt the tension erupt between them.

Holcomb turned to Dan. “What’s she doing here?” he snapped.

“She’s been a big help to us,” Dan told him in a firm tone. “She actually sent the first warnings that there might be a theft. And by the way, I’m sure you know it’s Doctor Fleming.”

“She did, huh?” Holcomb turned to her again. “A word of advice, Dr. Fleming. Don’t muddy my case with your hocus-pocus this time. Leave things to the professionals.”

“As you can tell,” she told Dan in a bitter voice, “Captain Holcomb and I are acquainted.”

“Let me handle this,” he said quietly and turned to the policeman. “Captain, I don’t know your history with Doctor Fleming, but someone took her involvement with this particular situation seriously enough to try to kill her. I know you’re aware of the car bombing. It was her car that was destroyed. So there are obviously people out there—and this time someone connected to this case—who think she can provide information they don’t want getting out.”

“Think what you like.” Holcomb’s voice held an edge of anger. “I work with facts.”

He turned away from Dan and introduced the people with him as the detectives on his squad.

“I’ve brought all seasoned people with me,” he assured them. “Including the crime scene technicians right behind me here. I know the attention a high-profile case like this will draw.” He paused and looked at each person in turn. “First thing we’ve got to do is hit everyone in this building before anyone has a chance to slip away.” He turned to his people. “I want each floor locked down and people sequestered in a single room on their floor. They won’t like it, but it has to be done. No matter how much they complain, don’t let them leave until I say so.”

“I have more men here who can help you,” Dan told him. “We had extra men flown in last night, and they’ve been containing the population of each floor. Just tell them what you want them to do.”

Holcomb nodded his head once. “Thanks. I’ll take that help. Detective Solomon here,” he pointed to the man, “will be your contact. Round up your people, and let’s get started.”

He took a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, pulled them on, and motioned to the CSU. “All right. Someone point us toward the office where the body is. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

Dan led them down the corridor to Stan’s office. Mark greeted Holcomb, giving him what information he had. So did Rick, who told Dan he’d thoroughly chewed out his men and pried every scrap of information out of their brains. Then the three of them headed back to the conference room.

“Holcomb’s doing his job,” Dan announced to everyone, “and the demonstration will be ready to go in ten minutes, according to Chase.”

“Where is Chase?” Joy demanded.

“Setting up another run-through for Oscar. He wants to make sure the robot didn’t get switched while the guards were down.”

“What?” She looked at him, astonished. “What guards? The ones watching Oscar?”

“Yes.” He swallowed his impatience. Joy Rivers pushed every one of his buttons. “I’ll let Chase tell you himself as soon as he gets back up here. Captain Holcomb has the crime scene well in hand, so meanwhile we all need to stay as calm as possible. And hope none of this has leaked to the media. The car bombing was bad enough.”

Ladd, showing the first signs of strain, took out a snowy handkerchief and mopped the fine sheen of perspiration on his forehead. “Jesus, the media. I thought it was bad before. They’ll storm the building.”

Mark shook his head. “Holcomb knows that. He told me he’s already dispatched cruisers to set up barricades and move people away from the building.”

Joy, looking only the slightest bit pale, commented, “Between the murder and the psycho we’ll be the hit of the tabloids and the six o’clock news.”

Dan’s famous control frayed. “Mia Fleming is a psychic, not a psycho, Miss Rivers. If you can’t refer to her appropriately, don’t refer to her at all.” He turned to Ladd. “Since Chase isn’t here, can you explain to Miss Rivers the importance of not making irresponsible remarks?”

Something flashed in her eyes, something Dan couldn’t quite define. Anger? Resentment? But she managed to sound contrite when she spoke. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so worried for Chase. None of this is doing him or the company any good. Please forgive me for anything I’ve said that’s inappropriate.”

Ladd gave her a tight smile. “She’s just a little anxious like the rest of us. With the big day coming up this Friday and everything focused on that, she and Chase decided to ditch the arrangements for a big wedding. They have plans to get married as soon as they get past the weekend. It’ll be just a small ceremony, but I know they’d like you to be there, Dan.” He put away his handkerchief. “Then they’re off for two weeks to a private island.”

“Of course, you’re invited,” Joy said in a clipped voice. “But I’m sure you’re much to busy to bother with something like that.”

In other words, don’t bother showing up.

Dan frowned at her. “But won’t there be a lot of follow-up? Contracts to complete? Others to negotiate? Production schedules to set up?”

“Lucas takes care of the schmoozing, Paul does the financials, and I handle the contracts.” Ladd’s eyes suddenly looked sad. “Stan would have set up production. I guess we’ll have to rethink that now.”

“All right.” Dan looked around the room at everyone. “Here’s the situation.”

He explained in concise sentences what had happened and informed them Chase and Lucas were at that moment setting up to test Oscar again.

“So you think the coffee was doctored?” Ladd asked.

“It’s the only answer. Rick gave the cups to Holcomb, and he had someone run them to the SAPD lab with an order for urgency.”

“It wasn’t one of our people,” Joy snapped at once.

“This time I have to agree with you,” Dan told her. “Too much chance of being recognized. That means someone, somehow, got into the building, got a cafeteria worker’s uniform, and managed to get four drugged cups of coffee up here without anyone stopping them. An outside person could do that but not without a lot of extra planning.”

“We’re looking at everyone,” Holcomb told them, walking back into the room. “Mark, can you reach Chase and ask him how soon they’ll be ready to start?”

“Better for Dan to do it. He’s in charge here.”

Dan picked up the conference room phone and punched in three numbers. When someone answered on the other end, he spoke quietly, nodded, and hung up. “Ten minutes.”

In exactly ten minutes Chase jogged into the conference room, out of breath. “Okay. We’re good to go.”

Joy rose and went to put her arms around him. “Come and sit down, baby. You’ll have a stroke if you don’t get control of yourself.”

“I know, I know. But Jesus, Joy. You know what’s at stake here.”

“And everything will be fine. Come on. Sit down with me.” She looped her arm through his and guided him to a chair beside her at the table.

Lucas came in, lowered the lights, and turned on the flat screen monitor. “Seats, everyone.”

Holcomb, Dan, Mark, and Rick chose to stand against the far wall while the others sat. In a moment, a picture appeared on the screen. No ne said a word until the screen went black again.

“Well.” Chase blew out the breath he’d been holding. “At least we know we got to Oscar before anyone else did. He’s working just fine.”

“I’d say you all were on top of things before they had time to put the rest of their plan into play,” Holcomb told them. “Good work, everyone. And by the way, that was a hell of an impressive demonstration. I want to make sure our chief is here Friday for the big festivities.”

“He’s on the guest list,” Lucas assured him. “I hope he’ll be one of our first customers.”

Chase pushed back his chair. “I’d better get Oscar back in his cage right away.”

Lucas put a hand on his shoulder. “Sit for a few minutes. Joy’s right. You’re strung as tight as a high wire. I’ll get Oscar settled and be sure he’s locked up properly.”

“I can promise you our men will be guarding him better than their own mothers,” Dan assured him. “They don’t like being taken advantage of the way they were. It makes them cranky and twice as vigilant.”

“I certainly hope so,” Joy snapped. Then she leaned over and brushed a lock of hair from Chase’s forehead. “Lucas is right, sweetie. Just let him take care of things. Take a deep breath, okay?”

Chase slumped back in his chair. “Fine. But I want a look at Oscar after he’s in place.”

“No problem. We’ll do that later.”

“I think one of our men should go with you, Lucas,” Dan suggested. “Someone with a nasty agenda is still roaming around.”

“I’ll be fine.” He lifted his shirt to show the gun at the small of his back. “I’ve been carrying it since the car bombing.”

“I’m going back to Forbush’s office,” Holcomb told them. “I’d appreciate it if you’d all stay here until I get back” He turned to Dan. “Except you. I think it would help if you were with me.” Lastly he looked at Mia. “And nothing from you, you hear?”

Dan had to restrain himself from snapping back at Holcomb, but Mia simply looked back at him without saying a word. He had no idea where she found the control she maintained, but he realized again what a gem he’d discovered here.

An hour later the crime-scene people were still at work in Stan’s office. Holcomb’s detectives and the Phoenix people were working their way from floor to floor, questioning everyone from the company security people to the janitorial service. Each floor was in lockdown, which didn’t make anyone very happy.

The person who got the gold star for the day, as far as Dan was concerned, was the Carpenter Techtronics receptionist who fielded the hundreds of calls without turning a hair.

“I’m surprised you don’t have the cleaning service come in at night when there are less people working,” Holcomb remarked, his eyes fixed on Chase. “That seems more logical to me. Fewer disturbances.”

“We do. But Stan was so damn secretive about his work and so nervous about someone getting into his stuff he wouldn’t let them into his area except during the day. Then he could put things away and keep an eye on them. He was always here much later than the rest of us, anyway. I think he worried about being attacked.”

“Apparently with good reason,” Mark said in a dry voice.

“I’d like to see the body.” Mia had been sitting quietly in the corner. Some color had finally returned to her face.

“Ah, yes. Dr. Fleming.” Holcomb stared at her, his face impassive. “I thought we’d be having a conversation about that.”

Almost casually Dan moved to position himself next to Mia. The protective warrior in place. She shifted in her chair to move closer to him and saw Holcomb narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“I’m gathering your relationship with Dr. Fleming is somewhat adversarial?” Dan asked, his voice carefully uninflected.

“Captain Holcomb and I have a less than . . . beneficial relationship,” Mia said, tension radiating from her body.

Holcomb turned his gaze to her. “You led us a merry chase one too many times, Dr. Fleming.” His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes cold. “Wasted time and resources.”

“But I’ve helped you a lot, too,” she protested. “And I’ve always been up front that my visions aren’t a hundred percent accurate.”

“That’s a fact,” he grunted.

“But they’re hints that can’t be ignored.”

Dan squeezed her shoulder. “In my opinion, I don’t think we can discount her input. If she wasn’t heading in the right direction in this instance, no one would have tried to kill her by blowing up her car. Then whoever it was went to enough trouble to get rid of the bomber, trying to tie up any loose ends. That definitely means she’s making someone nervous.”

“We haven’t proved yet that Nate Wilson was the bomber,” Holcomb objected.

“Come on, Captain,” Dan protested. “You don’t think it’s all a little too coincidental? And her having a vision of someone getting shot about the same time he was taking two taps to the head?”

“I’m still not willing to let her compromise a crime scene,” Holcomb bit back.

“Please,” she begged. “I won’t disturb anything. I know what to do. If I can just touch him I might be able to help you.”

“Mia, that’s a pretty gruesome scene,” Mark put in. “I don’t know if you want to subject yourself to that.”

“I can handle it.” She set her jaw in a stubborn line.”

“Let me think about it.” Holcomb looked at each of them in turn. “We have other things to take care of first. Like who would have access to Forbush’s office without being detected or seeming out of place.”

* * * * *

Detective Steve Aragon and his partner, Cliff Wallace, had taken a crime-scene tech with them to Nate Wilson’s apartment. Their orders were to go through it from top-to-bottom and wall-to-wall.

The building itself was on the edge of South San Antonio and had seen its best days before either man had been born. The superintendent who lived on the premises was vocally unhappy about being awakened to unlock doors for them.

Aragon shrugged. “We can break them down if you’d rather.” He looked at his partner. “Let’s see, Cliff. What do you figure a new door costs these days?”

“All right, all right,” the super grumbled. “God, can’t a man have any peace?”

But when he opened the door to join them on the walkway, the two detectives could see a chunky brunette in a flowered robe leaning against a doorway. She was holding a glass of something and watching them with avid interest.

Peace. Aragon snorted. Yeah, right.

Besides the fact that it could use a good cleaning crew to scrape away the filth, the apartment was a sad commentary on the life of the man who’d lived in it. Cheap, used furniture. A small television set. Pantry cupboards filled with as much cheap booze as food. A stack of mail, some unopened, lay on the scarred table in the kitchenette. Wallace dumped it in a plastic baggie to take with them.

Going through the piles of dirty laundry—a task they flipped a coin for—yielded an assortment of scraps of paper and notes on cocktail napkins. Again, they bagged it all to take with them.

“No landline,” Cliff pointed out.

“People like him don’t stay long enough in one place for one. They’d rather operate by cell phone. Less traceable, especially if they use throwaways. They can keep changing numbers.”

“I saw a receipt from a big box electronics store in with all this junk. That’s probably where he got them.”

“Let’s visit them when we’re done here.” Steve looked over at the slip of paper. “We’ll have to see if they can give us the numbers, then get a warrant to dump the calls. Not too likely, though. I hate these disposables.”

“The lab already has the one we found in his jacket,” Cliff told him. “They can scroll through it and see if they can find calls in or out. The dumb son-of-a-bitch who shot him somehow didn’t think to take it.”

“We’ll be lucky if we get anything usable,” Aragon said. “Nate was sly and crafty. He probably erased any trace of calls as soon as they were completed.”

“Yeah,” his partner agreed, “but at this point we gotta try anything.”

“We’ve got uniforms doing a canvass on the street and the other apartments. Also at the airport. Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone saw something. Or remembers who he was with lately.”

“Maybe. All right,” Cliff said. “I think we’re done here.” He looked at the tech. “Get all the pictures you need?”

“Yup. They’ll make a nice addition to my collection. Places I wouldn’t be caught dead in.”

All three men laughed, although not with much humor.

* * * * *

Dan announced they’d be reprogramming the biometric ID system at once and asked for a quiet place to work.

“We’ve proven that Oscar’s security wasn’t breeched,” Ladd pointed out. “Is it still necessary to change the system? Can’t we just eliminate Stan from the program?”

“No.” Dan had his cell phone out and was already punching in numbers. “We set the system up a particular way. In order not to compromise it and allow someone to hack in and replace one set of biometrics with another, you have to take down the whole system to reprogram it.”

“Leaving Oscar vulnerable during that time,” Joy pointed out, her attitude back in place. “Keep in mind that it’s Chase’s neck on the line here.”

Dan had never wanted to strangle a woman as much as he did this one. “Hardly. Oscar is tightly guarded and in a locked case. My men watched Lucas replace him personally. Whoever has that thumb and eyeball lost the only opportunity to use it. But I’m still not taking any chances.”

“I guess Dan’s right.” Ladd raked his fingers across his hair. “What a mess, though.”

“We’ll be starting on it in a few moments.” He looked around the room at each person. “While we’re doing this, no one except my men goes near Oscar. Are we clear on that?”

“Surely you don’t think one of us is involved,” Joy snapped.

“You asked the same question earlier, Miss Rivers, and I believe I answered it then. However, if you need me to repeat what I said, we can’t write anyone off yet. That includes you and every other member of Carpenter Techtronics who has daily access to this building.” Dan kept his tone level. “The first thing we have to do is eliminate everyone from Carpenter so we can focus on other possibilities.”

“My men reported there had been no extraneous people on the executive floor since midnight except the janitorial service,” Holcomb told them. “Each of them had been questioned thoroughly. Then their hands and clothing were checked for blood. The techs had found nothing.”

“No one could have left, either,” Chase pointed out. “You had someone checking the elevators right away and the fire doors sound an alarm when they’re opened.

“What about someone coming in from outside?” Holcomb asked.

Lucas shook his head. “Those exit doors were locked from the outside. We can release them electronically in case of emergency, but if someone tries to open one otherwise, an alarm goes off.”

“So.” Holcomb looked around the room. “No one out, no one in. That doesn’t leave a lot of choices.”

“Whoever it was could have slipped into the elevator when no one was paying attention and be long gone now,” Joy pointed out.

Holcomb said nothing, just pulled out his little notebook and resumed his questioning with dogged determination. Did Stan have enemies? Did he get along with the other members of the staff? Was industrial espionage a possibility?”

“As soon as CSU is finished in there, we’ll need someone to tell us if anything was taken.”

“You mean besides his thumb and eyeball?” Joy shuddered.

“I vouch for everyone on my staff,” Chase exploded. “They’re all carefully vetted. And the people around this table shouldn’t even be on any suspect list. For anything.”

“We have to explore every possibility,” Holcomb said quietly.

And on it went. At one point Lucas called the cafeteria to order sandwiches and drinks sent up.

“We’ll get them up as quickly as we can,” the cafeteria manager told him in a harried voice. “They won’t let anyone leave the building so we gotta feed the whole staff.”

Lucas made appropriately sympathetic noises. “Just do the best you can.”

Rick took his laptop into Chase’s office where he linked it to the Dragon back at Phoenix headquarters. Then he began the process of reprogramming the biometric ID system. He entered each of the principals, one at a time, registering fingerprints and retinal scans. In less than an hour he was done.

While they were waiting for the food to be delivered and for their turn to be scanned, Chase flipped on the big plasma television on the wall to catch the newscast.

“Well, shit,” Lucas said, looking at the screen.

A reporter from one of the local channels was doing a standup in front of their building, with a jumble of cars, vans, and televisions units spread out behind her. Massed in and around them were enough people that the street was thoroughly clogged. Uniformed patrolmen were working overtime to keep people behind the barriers.

“And this reporter has learned that not only was the body found this morning that of the notorious bomber-for-hire Nate Wilson but he also may have been the one responsible for blowing up Mia Fleming’s car at the art museum. Rumor has it that Ms. Fleming predicted Wilson’s murder and also that of Carpenter Techtronics’ engineer Stan Forbush. Dr. Fleming’s reputation is viewed with skepticism by the local police. What will they make of her predictions now? Back after this announcement.”

“Fuck.” Chase picked up a coffee cup and threw it against the wall, the shards falling soundlessly to the carpet.

“She’s going to be a real problem, Chase.” Joy looped her arms through his and tried to pull him aside. “I knew it was a mistake to bring her in here.” She turned to Dan, eyes blazing now. “What kind of company do you run that you use this kind of lunatic? All it’s doing is make us look like a laughing stock. Think of our reputation.”

Dan took a moment before answering her. “Miss Rivers. Chase and I have known each other for a long time. He knows what kind of company Phoenix is, or he never would have called me to begin with. We’re the best there is. And psychics with varying types of gifts have long been known to be helpful in many investigations. Even the military is experimenting with using them. “

“I don’t want her here.”

The devil beneath the angel was glowing red. Dan had seldom seen such animosity except in war. While he searched for the right words to defuse the situation, Chase stepped in.

“Honey.” He dropped a kiss on Joy’s forehead. “Just chill, okay? Dan knows what he’s doing. I appreciate how you feel, and God knows without you I don’t think I’d have made it these last weeks. But Mia has definitely been a help. Without her we wouldn‘t even know there is a problem and wouldn’t be preparing ourselves. So let’s not write her off if we don’t have to.”

The food arrived at that moment, for which Dan heaved a sigh of relief, but almost no one had any appetite.

The CSU stopped at the door to tell them they could get into the office if they walked carefully. Holcomb and Rick took Chase and Lucas to see whether anything had been removed. After checking drawers and cabinets and Stan’s computer, they both agreed nothing looked disturbed.

“Stan was a fanatic about his stuff,” Chase said. “If someone had so much as turned on his monitor or ‘borrowed’ any of the binders on the bookshelf we’d know it.”

Faith sat quietly with Mia, watching the proceedings, catching Mark’s eye now and then. At one point Joy stood up from the table and announced she’d had enough and was leaving. Chase rose to stand next to her, turning her into him and away from the others in the room. He murmured to her in a low voice, rubbing her arms and stroking her chin.

At length she settled down, dropping into her seat with an irritated expression on her face, attempting to ignore everyone. Once again Dan thought to himself what a strange relationship it was between those two.

“If you will just let me into the office,” Mia tried again during a temporary halt in the questioning, “I might be able to get an image of something.”

Holcomb gnawed on his moustache for a moment. “Dr. Fleming. You seem pretty positive that this time you’re on the right track. I’d hate to shut you down if this is one of the times you can really help us. Will you try something for me first?”

Mia looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

He pulled an envelope from his pocket and removed six photos from it. “Come sit over here next to me, please.”

She turned to Dan, her eyes questioning.

“Go on,” he whispered. “Play his game.”

She settled herself in the indicated chair, hands folded.

“I’ve been told that true precognitives can tell something just from touching photos,” Holcomb said. “Has that happened to you before?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then let’s do a little test here, okay? No offense, but I don’t want to get burned again. Not with all that media waiting outside to chew us up.”

“Fine.” She lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “Let’s do it.”

In the end, Dan had to work hard not to laugh. Every photo Holcomb pulled out was a fake, a setup for a Homeland Security disaster drill. And his little psychic nailed them all.

“Are we through with show-and-tell, Captain?” She had a hard time keeping the smug tone from her voice. “Are you satisfied with my responses?”

He sighed. “I guess taking you to the crime scene can’t be any more futile than anything else we’re doing.

“I’ll go with her.” Dan held out his hand for her.

Holcomb’s eyebrows lifted but he made no comment. “The rest of you stay here with the detectives. We’re not done yet.”

* * * * *

To Mia the day already felt as if it had been a week. From Nate Wilson’s killing, to finding Stan’s body, to Joy’s outburst, to the grueling session with the police and Chase bouncing off the walls, it had been an unending nightmare. Mia spent most of the day sitting quietly in her chair in one corner of the conference room, recovered from her fainting spell thanks to Faith. But she was exhausted from the effort of trying to recapture the vision of the knife as she’d first seen it.

Getting into the crime scene had been a battle, but finally Dan escorted her into Stan’s office.

“They normally would have taken the body by this time,” Holcomb said. “But you’re in luck. CSU took much longer to process everything than usual, and they didn’t want the body moved until they were finished. So if you follow my rules, I’ll let you have a minute in there.”

“Thank you so much, Captain.” She made her voice as neutral as possible. No way would she let him bait her until she’d done what she needed to. “I appreciate it.”

She stood patiently as Dan bent and tied plastic shields over her feet and gave her a pair of latex gloves to put on.

“Watch the numbered markers,” he told her. “They indicate places CSU has marked to photograph, and they may not be finished.”

Holcomb stayed in the doorway with Dan and watched her.

She nodded and made her way gingerly to Stan’s body slumped in his desk chair. The scene was every bit as gruesome as Dan had described but no worse than some she’d seen in the past.

Forcing herself to ignore the smell of death and the copious amount of blood covering Stan Forbush’s body, she took a steadying breath and reached out toward the dead man. The moment she placed her hand on Stan’s arm the vision flooded her brain again. She saw the hand stabbing the knife in a downward motion, not once, but twice. Remembering what Ellie had told her, she concentrated on blanking out everything around her and focusing on each detail in the image, trying to retain it as long as possible.

“Gloves,” she said suddenly. “Whoever did it wore gloves.”

“What kind of gloves?” Dan prompted. “What color?”

She pressed her hands to her temples. “Dark. Some dark color. And heavy. Thick.” Then it was gone.

No, she told them, she didn’t know whether it was a man or a woman. No, she didn’t see anything else. She reached out her hand once more, to see whether she could sharpen the vision. Suddenly she recoiled, as she was hit by a picture of spurting blood and an arm, making a chopping movement. A feeling of shock surrounded her.

“What is it?” Dan asked. “Something else?”

“He was surprised,” she answered slowly. “Either he didn’t expect the person in his office or whoever it was wore some kind of disguise. And he definitely wasn’t expecting the knife.”

“Why didn’t he yell?” Holcomb asked.

Mia closed her eyes and concentrated again, then opened them. “The first stab was to his throat and severed his vocal chords.” She felt the blood drain from her face and had to grip the edge of the desk to keep from fainting again. “He was alive when they cut off his thumb and gouged out his eyeball.”

Holcomb and Dan both looked sick.

“Are you telling me the truth?” Holcomb asked. “You know you’ve missed the mark before, Dr. Fleming, and this is pretty bizarre.”

“Does this sound like something a person would make up?” she snapped at him. “I’m not wrong this time. The vision wasn’t fuzzy. I swear to you, that’s what I saw happen.”

“But you can’t tell us who it was,” he pushed.

“No.” She shook her head. “I wish I could. But the vision is sharper each time. If I keep working at it, concentrating on it, maybe it will come to me.” She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I don’t have as much control over it as I’d like. But I’ve had . . . some instruction in how to deal with it recently. So we’ll see.” She looked at Dan, feeling completely drained. “Is there any chance I could leave now?”

He glanced at Holcomb.

“Yeah, she can go. But you stay. Working with these people is like herding stray cats. They’re your clients. You keep ’em in line.”

“Fine. Just give me a minute here.” Dan took Mia’s arm as she backed out of the room. “Faith will take you back to the hotel,” he said quietly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” I think. When he touched her the spike of electricity stabbed through her again. She wondered which was more dangerous—the situation or the man? “I just hate bothering Faith so much.”

He grinned at her, a smile that warmed her entire body and chased away the chill that had gripped her. “Maybe she’ll put you in her next book.”