Living with the Dead Part 28

There was no sign of Adele. Earlier, when Robyn mentioned that Adele provided photos for True News, True News, Hope had contacted her editor. It turned out they Hope had contacted her editor. It turned out they did did have a phone number for Adele. Paige was running it now, but tracking its origins was turning out to be an ordeal. Whoever Adele was, she'd covered her tracks well. have a phone number for Adele. Paige was running it now, but tracking its origins was turning out to be an ordeal. Whoever Adele was, she'd covered her tracks well.

Hope's cell phone vibrated against the table. Probably Detective Findlay. He'd left five messages. The last one mentioned a death at the fair. She'd paid attention only long enough to hear that the victim wasn't Gilchrist or Adele but an elderly lady. He hadn't given any other details, telling her to look it up in the morning paper.

A threat. Hope understood that as clearly as if he'd said: "Here's another one I can pin on your friend." He'd known Robyn had been at the fair last night. In fact, she wouldn't put it past the Nast Cabal to manufacture another murder, just to hammer Robyn's coffin shut.

But when she checked the caller ID, it wasn't the detective.

"Behind you there's a hall," Karl said when she answered. "Down it you'll find bathrooms and a handicap elevator. Take that elevator to the first floor. Then head right, along the wall, into the children's section. He's in the stacks there. See if you can pick up any vibes."

"Got it." She stood. "What does he look like?"

"No idea. I can smell him, but I don't dare get close enough for a look. From where I am, if I step out, he'll see me."

"It's a man, then?"

Karl confirmed that. Hope found the elevator where he said it would be. She presumed he wanted her to take it so if their pursuer was watching her, he'd think she'd just gone to the bathroom.

At the far side of the children's section, she thumbed through a Disney book. The vision came quickly, blurred at first, like viewing it through a greasy lens. She saw... someone standing at a bookshelf?

d.a.m.n it. A chaos vision. She shook her head sharply to clear it, startling a preteen girl reading beside her. It was like shaking a snow globe, though the image obscured for only a moment, then settled back. Someone at a bookshelf. What kind of chaos event was that? She barely had time to wonder before the picture flipped like a slide show, moving to a man walking past a bank of tables. He was just as blurred as the woman, but she recognized him by his stride. Karl.

The image flipped again. The woman. She could make out a long ponytail of black curls falling over a denim jacket. Hope groaned. Really, she should be able to recognize herself a little faster than that, even if she didn't often see her back angle. The picture returned to Karl, now leafing through a book on a table.

Why was Hope seeing them them?

She remembered that night at Bane, catching blurred and disjointed images of Portia Kane and other club-goers. She'd told Karl later she was certain it was the "signature" vision for a supernatural, but had no idea what kind.

Clairvoyants.

Instead of a static signature image, Hope briefly saw what they they were seeing with their powers. were seeing with their powers.

The image switched to a third. Another woman, this one with light hair, sitting beside a sign. Robyn.

Hope spun so fast she dropped her book and startled the girl beside her again. She murmured an apology as she hurried past. Her fingers were already hitting her cell phone speed dial, her gaze scanning the aisle, straining to see around the end before she reached it. She got there just as Karl answered.

She stopped abruptly, closing her eyes to vision-check before leaning out.

"Hope?" he said when she didn't speak.

"Just a sec," she whispered.

When no vision came, she peered around the shelves. Robyn still sat where they'd left her, no sign of Adele nearby.

"She's here," she said. "Adele."

"Where?"

"I have no idea. I just caught a " She glanced around, making sure no one was listening in. " a vision."

"Okay, I'm coming around the "

"I see you."

He was across the store, near the row of cas.h.i.+ers. Robyn was twenty feet away, close enough that he could get to her in a sprint. They held their positions, looking, listening, smelling, sensing.

"No sign," he said.

"Same here."

"Head toward the front doors. I'll cover you. I'll circle around Robyn and see if I can flush Adele out. If she comes your way, let her leave. We want "

"To get her outside. I know."

Hope stepped from her hiding spot, phone still at her ear as she scouted for Adele. As she cut across to the front doors, she picked up the vibes again, telling her a supernatural was close. Then the vision sparked again, the same flipping of scenes, from her to Karl to Robyn.

She slowed and looked around. To her left, a young Latina pushed a stroller. To her right, a knot of girls whispered about a boy she couldn't see. Just ahead, an elderly man perused the True Crime display. Beside him, another man talked to an employee.

Lots of people. None could pa.s.s for Adele Morrissey.

She took another three steps. The vision returned, looping through again, strong as ever.

"Hope?" Karl said.

It took her a moment to respond, having forgotten she was still on the phone.

"Just... sensing," she said.

"I can see you."

"Anyone else?"

"Not Adele, but perhaps that's not who you're sensing. Robyn did say she thought Adele might have a male partner, the one she saw at the undercover officer's house. And the person following us was definitely male, likely supernatural..."

Another clairvoyant? They were one of the rarest races, but clairvoyance was was hereditary. hereditary.

The vibes told her whoever she'd detected was very close. But the only men she could see were the elderly one and the one talking to the clerk. Not to downplay the ability of the elderly, but this guy, despite his interest in crime, was clearly getting his thrills vicariously. He had to be eighty, and leaned on a walker, and while she knew that would make a great disguise, she could pick up mild chaos vibes from chronic pain and depression, and that couldn't be faked.

The guy talking to the store clerk was rapt in his conversation, paying no attention to his surroundings, open to attack. All no-no's in the evil-spy handbook.

But because he was the only apparent possibility for those clairvoyant vibes, Hope took a closer look. He was midthirties, slightly under average height.

He looked like a high school gym teacher. Maybe it was his outfit jeans, a rugby s.h.i.+rt and ball cap, a team jacket on his arm. Maybe it was his build, his s.h.i.+rt sleeves pushed up to show lean athletic muscular forearms. The clerk seemed to think he was good-looking, ignoring the toe-tapping customer awaiting her turn.

Could he be Adele's partner? Maybe her lover? He was almost twice her age, but Hope knew that didn't mean anything.

"There's a guy here," she whispered into the phone. "Ball cap, dark green s.h.i.+rt..."

"I see him."

"Does he look familiar?"

Karl paused. "No, but I see someone behind him who does."

Before she could ask "Who?" a figure stepped from behind a display.

"Is that who I think it is?" Karl asked.

It was.

HOPE.

From their separate spots in the bookstore, Hope and Karl watched Adele's partner. It was the redheaded teenage boy from Robyn's apartment. He crept around the displays near the front door, like a shoplifter waiting to make a break for it. After a moment, he slipped farther into the store, sticking to the wall.

Hope headed for the aisle beside his. After a moment, the clairvoyant vision came again, this time flipping between Robyn and random faces. The boy was right on the other side of the shelf, with no one else around, meaning the vibes had to be coming from him.

Robyn had said the figure in Judd Archer's house sounded young. This kid, though, was younger than any of them had imagined. Hope caught a peek of him around a display. If he was old enough to drive, she'd be surprised.

It wasn't just that he didn't look dangerous, with his freckles and red hair and smooth cheeks. When they'd seen him at Robyn's apartment he'd run away, spooked at the first sign of trouble. Even now, his every move, his very bearing screamed that he didn't want to be there. Chaos vibes pulsed from him. Anxiety, fear, confusion. Not a single tremor of anger or hate.

So Hope followed him now with care, knowing he'd seen her Friday night and one glimpse would have him bolting like a rabbit. As she followed, she kept her eyes and sensors on the lookout for the real threat Adele. If Hope had been picking up a clairvoyant in the store before the boy arrived, it must have been Adele, meaning she was likely still here.

When Hope peeked through a display, she saw the boy straining, his face red with exertion. She recognized that expression as surely as if she was looking in a mirror. He was trying to catch a vision in his case, a clairvoyant one.

He seemed to be struggling to get a fix. When he finally did spot Robyn, it was with his eyes. Then he ducked behind a shelf, his thoughts a chaotic jumble of indecision. She picked up enough to know his task get Robyn out of the store.

Hope moved to the aisle beside Robyn. She bounced on her toes, as if the shelf between them wasn't six inches taller than her.

She'd wanted to warn Robyn that the boy was here and Adele likely nearby. But Robyn was nervous enough and if they added this strain, she might tip him off. Yet it soon became clear Robyn was in no immediate danger, because the boy had no immediate hope of completing his a.s.signment.

Flus.h.i.+ng Robyn outside must have sounded easy, but now he'd stalled. And wherever Adele was, she wasn't helping.

Hope called Karl and whispered what was going on, then said, "Adele must still be here somewhere. And And the guy who was following us. As for how he's involved maybe he's with Irving or " She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Point is, we need to take him into consideration, too." the guy who was following us. As for how he's involved maybe he's with Irving or " She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Point is, we need to take him into consideration, too."

"Leave them to me. You watch the boy."

"I don't think he's going anywhere. We may need to flush him him out. Get him on the run, track him down and question him." out. Get him on the run, track him down and question him."

"Good idea."

They hammered out a plan. Then she called Robyn and relayed it to her.

Hope turned a raspberry chocolate bar over, as if looking for a price tag. She watched Robyn through the mirrored display as she pa.s.sed a table of remaindered books. Behind her, the boy peeked from a shelving unit, then slid out to follow.

Hope counted to ten and turned. The boy was so intent on Robyn that he didn't see Hope until Robyn stopped beside her. Even then, he only hesitated, foot lifted, head c.o.c.ked, frowning as if she looked familiar but... The memory clicked.

He mouthed a silent "oh." His lips didn't follow up with "s.h.i.+t," but his thoughts did. He moved his raised foot backward and he looked around for Karl. He wouldn't see him Karl was still hunting for Adele and the mystery man but the boy's anxiety vibes edged toward panic and his hand inched toward his pocket. Hope had a good idea what was in that pocket, and looked quickly at Robyn, as if she hadn't noticed him.

"Ready to go?" Hope said.

The boy continued through on his backward step, still looking around, but his hand staying outside his pocket, the panic vibes ebbing.

Good. Now if he'd just turn and walk away... Get out of the store, then Karl could follow his trail.

The boy took another slow step backward and smacked into the old man with the walker. It wasn't a hard collision. But the old man was unsteady enough, making his way to the cas.h.i.+er with his prize a ma.s.sive hardcover and that nudge was enough to knock him off balance. The big book hit the floor with a thwack thwack that made everyone within earshot jump. that made everyone within earshot jump.

The boy froze. Except for his hand, which darted into that pocket.

"Well?" the old man barked. "Are you going to pick that up for me or not? Bad enough you can't watch where you're going. Don't just stand there..."

He continued to harangue the boy, but Hope couldn't hear him, her attention riveted to that pocket, as the chaos swirled about, as rich and smooth as the best chocolate.

The boy stared at the book, as if praying it would float back into the man's hand. Finally, hand still in his pocket, he bent, stiff-legged, scooping up the book as he mumbled apologies.

As he straightened, a figure stepped from behind a rack, his gaze down, fixed on the book in his hand. It was the gym teacher who'd been talking to the clerk. He noticed the crowd and looked up. He saw the old man still grumbling, and he started to veer out of his way. But then he saw who the old man was chewing out. And he stopped dead.

The chaos vibes surged. Confusion and disbelief and something sharper and stronger, too muddled for Hope to make out. Then the vibes smoothed away as the man's eyes lit up. He said something. A single word. It was too far for Hope to make it out, but the boy wheeled.

The man said it again and moved forward, absently setting his book on a shelf as he pa.s.sed. The boy stumbled back. He hit the remaindered book table. His free hand windmilled, his other hand flew from his pocket, pulling the gun with it, the weapon sailing into the air and hitting the floor, the clatter swallowed by a clerk's scream.

Everyone stopped. All eyes went to the gun, and that scream echoed through the store like the wail of a siren.

Then, as people realized what was happening, the chaos tsunami hit. Hope reeled under it. Her eyes rolled back, the chaos bliss blinding her. She caught only still shots. The boy, staring at the gun. The man, staring at the boy. The customers, scrambling back in slow motion. A security guard, inching forward, hand going to his holster.

Another wave, so strong Hope's knees buckled. Robyn grasped her arm. Hope pushed her off and grabbed the chocolate display rack. Focus! d.a.m.n it, focus! She blinked, jaw clenched.

When Hope could see again, her gaze swung to the security guard. He wasn't much older than the boy, and no less terrified.

Hope tried to move, to do something, anything, but the demon fought to keep her still, smelling disaster and warning her not to interfere, not to get involved, it wasn't safe, just sit back and drink it in, prepare for the chaos feast to come.

Hope grasped the display tighter and pushed off, propelling herself forward. Robyn caught her arm again, whispering for her to let it play out. But Robyn couldn't hear the thoughts pinging through the air; she couldn't feel the fear and confusion. To her, letting it play out meant letting the guard take the boy down quietly and call the police. Only that wasn't going to happen.

Hope pushed past her, but she could tell she wasn't going to make it in time. The guard was only a few steps from the boy. He had his gun raised now, ready. The boy saw that, then glanced at his own weapon on the floor.

"No, no, no," Hope whispered. "Just leave it there. Don't do anything stupid."

She knew the boy and the guard wouldn't listen even if they could hear her. All they could see was that gun on the floor, and all she could see was tragedy pulsing there between them.

The gym teacher broke from his trance, staggering back as if just now realizing he stood between the two young men. As he backed away, he looked over his shoulder, gaze fixing on a carousel of bookmarks. Then he redirected his "stagger" that way, grabbing the carousel as if for support. He wrenched and it toppled into the guard's path.

At the last second, the guard saw the falling carousel and veered out of the way. The boy cast one last glance at the gun, then ran for the doors.

The gym teacher fumbled with the bookmark carousel, as if trying to right it, but only making it worse, blocking the guard so he couldn't follow the boy. The guard finally extricated himself.

The old man waved toward the doors. "He went "