Jonah had a strangely surreal moment when he realized he was discussing with four federal agents psychic abilities he had never believed in.
Until now.
—
IT DIDN’T TAKE them long at all to check out the courtyard of the complex where Luna Lang vanished—and to find a smaller energy “bubble” there as well. Just in the security cameras’ blind spot.
A bubble where time was lost.
Jonah wasn’t positive but believed the bubble was the same size it had been when Mrs. Lang had disappeared. There was some discussion about experimenting by having one or the other of them stand in the bubble, both to find out if they picked up anything unusual and to see if time continued to be lost.
But Lucas was reluctant to subject any of his team to a paranormal event they didn’t understand—yet—so he elected to leave the area be. It wasn’t roped off by crime scene tape, but there were several orange cones marking the area, all with signs stuck in them saying PLEASE WALK AROUND.
“Does that work?” Luke asked the chief.
“Not sure. I had one of my uniforms stand watch for the first couple of days—with orders to stand back and within the existing security camera’s view at all times. He reported nothing unusual, and also that the residents of the complex were giving this whole area a wide berth. No teenagers live here, just small kids being watched very closely by parents or nannies, and when the complex manager told me they were continuing to install more security cameras, including that one”—he pointed to one up high, which very obviously covered this entire area—“I decided the cones would be enough to keep people away. So far, so good.”
Sam said, “One thing about nervous fear, it does a lot to minimize curiosity. Or at least keep it internalized.”
So that was settled.
Jonah had called ahead so that the downtown theater owner, Kent Ferguson, was there to unlock the front door and let them in at this odd afternoon hour.
“Is the downtown area always this deserted on a Wednesday afternoon?” Luke asked.
“Not quite this deserted, even though several of the stores follow an old tradition and close up around noon on Wednesdays. But since these disappearances, there isn’t a lot of loitering to pass the time. People get out, go to work or do whatever else they have to do, and then go home, in broad daylight if possible, and with company. We’ve suggested everybody buddy up, not just the kids, and most are taking the advice to heart.”
“Curfew?”
“Midnight. Another strong suggestion, even though most had already set their own curfews—considerably earlier. I’m sure Kent will mention that.”
And the theater owner did, the instant he swung the door open for them. “Jonah, when are things going to get back to normal around here? I can’t sell enough tickets to even bother with popcorn.”
Jonah was tempted to say something about the little girl who had vanished the night before, but he’d been at this job too long to lose his temper that easily.
“We’re working on it, Kent,” he said, calm. “Do you mind turning up the house lights in the theater and waiting for us here in the lobby?”
“Sure, sure. Anything if it’ll help . . .” He didn’t repeat his earlier complaint, perhaps realizing just how it sounded. Just bustled off and left Jonah to lead the way into the theater.
“Sorry I didn’t introduce you,” he told the agents. “But trust me when I say you’re better off when Kent doesn’t know your name.”
“We have thick skins,” Lucas said absently as they stood in the aisle and looked around the theater. “Two doors back here, two emergency exits down front.”
“Yeah,” Jonah said. “And everyone who noticed him said that Sean Messina left for the lobby through the door on this side. The one we just came through.” Realizing, he added, “And no bubble of energy here. Or did I miss it?”
“No,” Lucas said. “You didn’t miss it. There isn’t one, as far as I can tell. Interesting. And you said the Tyler house was the same. So, the open areas hold the energy while the enclosed ones don’t.”
Half under his breath, Jonah muttered, “Why do I think that’s a very bad sign.” It wasn’t a question.
Robbie took a step back and turned to eye that entrance/exit. “The door has that dark little vestibule thing so people coming in or going out don’t spill light into the dark theater. So if he did go out this door, that’s really the only blind spot before the lobby cameras would have picked him up. What’s that, about twelve square feet?”
“Less,” Jonah said. “There was a couple in the back row here—another young couple—and they both knew Sean and his girlfriend. They swear whatever scene happened to be playing on the screen just then was bright enough so they saw him, recognized him, even waved to him. They said he used that door. But he never went through the door into the lobby, at least not according to the cameras.”
“Just vanished into thin air,” Luke said. “But no change in energy for the area. We all walked through that space just now, and I don’t think any of us picked up anything out of the ordinary. Did we?”
The other three agents shook their heads.
“I’m going to go out on a limb,” Luke said, “and guess we won’t have a reaction at the Tyler house either, especially since Jonah noted the clocks weren’t affected. Whatever happened to these people, an energy signature was left behind only outside.”
“Which,” Samantha said, “is very, very strange.”
SIX
When they left the theater, they split up, with Dante and Robbie getting the key from Jonah and going to start unloading the SUV and setting up their temporary command center, and Luke and Sam going with Jonah to the Tyler house.
They met Jonah’s second, Sarah Waters, who was undoubtedly exhausted but didn’t look it. She was a tall, slim woman with very dark hair worn up so it was impossible to guess its length, sharp blue eyes, and a lovely face that was curiously doll-like in its delicacy and would have looked more natural within the pages of a fashion magazine. Her excellent figure looked more model than cop as well, even with the still-crisp police uniform she wore. She greeted them with the information that relatives were with the parents in the upstairs den, making missing-child flyers.
“At least it’s keeping them occupied,” Sarah told Jonah and the agents. “They’ve been just about going out of their minds all day. And I didn’t see the harm, with the Amber Alert out now.”
“You’ve kept in touch with the station?”
“Of course. Nothing coming in on the tip line except the usual crank calls and a few insisting they saw Nessa hundreds of miles away in some unlikely spot.” She shrugged wearily. “If it was within the realm of possible, I had one of our people reach out to law enforcement in those areas so they could check. Every single one of them came up empty.”
“What about media?”
“Well, assuming Nessa’s abduction was tied in with the others, which we are, we’ve been lucky with the media. Local is staying quiet as per your request, and regional is caught up with numerous cases, including that serial in Virginia, the one law enforcement believes they’re finally close to catching after nearly a year and too many bodies.”
“And national?”
“Election year coming up, so there’s that. Plus a train derailment last night that’s still burning crude, a couple of idiot drug dealers barricaded in a Chicago house threatening a shootout with police—and tornado season has started early and with a vengeance in the Midwest. We’re barely a blip on the radar.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way. Go home, Sarah.”
“Look, I want to—”
“You want to keep working the case. And you will. Tonight. But you worked the late shift last night and you’ve been up all day. Go home, get a few hours’ sleep and some food into you. Head back to the station around midnight or later. We’ll either be there or next door.”