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“I’ll hang back too,” he told the others. “We bagged the judge’s chair, rod, and tackle box, but you can see where he always sits. Couple yards from the water just to the left of that wooden stake there at the edge. It’s where he always ties his catch, and nobody ever moves it. Not even kids trying to be funny.”

“Well, he’s a judge,” Sam murmured. She watched the others move toward the stream, in a line parallel to the stream rather than in a group, and said to Jonah, “What is it you expect them to find?”

“Whatever’s there,” he replied promptly.

Sam sent him a look. “That was a very Bishop-like answer. You two don’t know each other, do you?”

“I’ve only talked to him on the phone,” Jonah replied honestly. He kept his gaze on the agents moving toward the stream. “You said before that you sensed something dark and hungry. You ever sense anything like that before?”

“Not exactly like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean . . . evil is always dark in some way. Always . . . hungry, grasping. Once you sense it, touch it . . . it’s familiar. Even if it’s not quite the same as before.”

“So what you sensed back there is evil?”

“Yeah.”

Jonah started to ask her to elaborate, but then the three agents approaching the stream stopped suddenly. Robbie, in the middle, lifted both her hands and slowly moved them as if she felt some kind of barrier. Luke and Dante were both looking at her, and both were wearing frowns.

They were almost exactly six yards away from where the judge always parked his chair.

“Shit,” Jonah breathed.

“Energy bubble?” Sam’s voice was remarkably calm.

“You tell me.”

Still calm, Sam said, “You knew whatever that is had a defined perimeter, didn’t you? How?”

“That,” Jonah said, “depends on whether the watch Robbie is wearing has stopped.”

“Energy affects electronics,” Sam said, more considering than surprised. “Some places hold on to energy. So do some people. We have an agent who blows out every lightbulb in a room if she gets upset and drops her shield.”

Steady himself, Jonah said, “All I know is that watches stop—and cell phones lose time.”

Samantha didn’t even appear startled. “How much time?”

“Far as I can tell, all the time you spend inside that perimeter.”

“There’s one at the site of every disappearance?”

Suddenly struck, he said, “All except the Tyler house. There are several clocks in that kitchen. Oven, microwave, even a plain old wall clock. They looked fine. My watch didn’t stop. And I don’t remember my cell losing time. Why didn’t I notice that?” He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his Windbreaker and looked at it, compared it to his watch.

Sam waited until he put the phone away again, swearing under his breath, then said, “You didn’t notice because last night a little girl was taken. Kids always hit us the hardest.”

He nodded. “Even those of us who aren’t parents. Yeah, it’s something I’ve noticed before. Though, thankfully, I haven’t had to go through it many times.”

Sam turned her head and looked at him, brows lifting in a silent question.

“No, it wasn’t here. I trained to be a cop in Nashville, and worked there a few years before I came back here. Plus, I’ve taken advantage of things the FBI has offered, from seminars to being temporarily attached to federal task forces around the country.”

“Including child abductions?”

“Yeah. After three different cases, I decided I didn’t want to be a part of those particular task forces again. Though I have taken part in others over the years.” He shrugged. “It’s a small town, and I love it here, but it isn’t—usually—the best place to keep a cop’s instincts sharp.”

Sam nodded. “I get it. And points to you for taking the time and trouble. A lot of small-town police chiefs wouldn’t bother. Not their circus, not their monkeys.”

Jonah smiled faintly but said only, “I want to be a good cop. Besides, I enjoy a challenge. Usually.” He returned his attention to the stream, where Robbie was slowly walking what appeared to be the perimeter of energy—or whatever it was. She didn’t go into the stream, so she walked a half circle on the stream’s wide bank.

The two men didn’t follow but stood watching her intently.

“They can’t sense it?” Jonah asked Samantha.

“Luke doesn’t pick up energy from places or things, just people. As for Dante, he could probably sense it if he dropped his shields. Most mediums tend to be pretty good barometers for negative energy. But it can be dangerous for them.”

“How?”

“Mediums open doors,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “Depending on your belief system and experience, those doors lead to a spirit realm, another dimension, maybe even another time. Hell, maybe all three. But wherever or whenever it is, what’s usually waiting on the other side of those doors and eager to come through them is energy of some kind. Sometimes human. Sometimes not. And very few mediums can control whatever comes through those doors. Negative energy is very destructive.”

“Is that what took my missing people? Negative energy?”

“I doubt it,” she replied. “What Robbie’s sensing, what affected your watches and cell phone is probably residual energy from a very bad person or people. Or evil acts committed. That’s what usually creates negative energy. Or makes energy negative.”

“You’ve lost me,” Jonah confessed.

“Well, I’m not the scientific type, but one thing I’ve learned is the law of physics most of us have to cope with in some way, and on a fairly regular basis. Energy can’t be destroyed, only transformed. With the right conduit, otherwise harmless energy can be turned dark, negative. The right conduit tends to be an evil person, an evil act, or an evil force.”

She frowned. “But the energy here has lingered, hasn’t it? The judge vanished over two weeks ago. The teenagers more than three weeks. I would have thought the energy would have dissipated by now. Especially since it’s outside.”

Jonah didn’t even know what questions to ask next, so he was more than a little relieved when the other three agents rejoined them at the Jeep. Samantha immediately told them about watches and cell phones, about what had been different at the Tyler house, and then asked Robbie what she had sensed.

“Definitely energy. My watch stopped. And—” She pulled a cell phone in an unusual rubberized case from her pocket and looked at it, then reached over for Jonah’s arm and calmly compared her cell to his watch. “That look about right to you? We were down there about ten minutes?” she asked him.

“I think so.”

“Time lost. That’s a new one.” She released Jonah’s arm and returned her cell to her pocket.

Luke was frowning as he looked at her. “You didn’t say if it was negative energy.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t drop my shields,” she told him. “What I felt through them was too strong to risk doing that. I’m a receiver, remember?”

“Is that a . . . special kind of telepath?” Jonah asked.

“It’s a matter of degree,” she told him. “Most telepaths have to drop their shields and then focus, concentrate. I drop my shields and it all just comes rushing in.”

“All what?”

“The thoughts of roughly half the people within about a hundred yards of me,” she replied. “Like a loud party suddenly erupting in the next room. A lot of noise, but nothing makes sense.” She shrugged. “So I never completely drop my shields if I can help it. I just . . . open a little window. When I have to.”

“During a case.”

“Yeah, usually. Or in the lab. We’re constantly working to learn better control, or figure out if there’s a different way to use our abilities. I just . . . don’t like trying to pick up someone’s thoughts if it isn’t necessary. It’s an invasion of privacy.” Her chin firmed somewhat stubbornly.

Sam said, “Some of our telepaths feel the same, though not all of them. And some clairvoyants, like me, hesitate to touch objects we know were part of or near a scene of violence. Those headaches and nosebleeds, remember?”