Riley looked at her hand on his thigh, to any outward observer the casually intimate touch of a lover but to her a connection that might well be vital to her very survival, and spoke slowly.
"When I woke up after that Taser attack, it was like there was a kind of veil between me and the world. Everything was…muffled. Muted. Faded. Once I was able to tap into your energy, that veil began to disappear."
"But?" he prompted.
"Back there, in the Pearson house, a couple of times I…felt myself starting to drift. Even with you touching me, even with plenty of energy, it was difficult to focus."
"Any idea why?"
"That's what worries me. It felt like something outside myself."
"But you were picking up information outside yourself while we were there. How was this different?"
"Because it wasn't just there in my mind, like the clairvoyant bits or Jenny's thoughts. It was…pulling at me."
"Sounds like a confirmation of your theory."
"Yeah. Which is all fine and dandy, except that if I felt the attempt, whoever was on the other end felt the failure of it."
"You mean, if there really is somebody out there trying to mess with your mind-"
"Then whoever it is not only is still trying, but may now be aware that the attacks are less successful. That I somehow have the means to fight back. And I'm guessing the next attempt will be the sort with teeth and claws."
"You know," Gordon said after having been brought up-to-date, "I really wish now I hadn't called you down here, babe."
Riley shrugged. "I have an enemy, that's clear. If it hadn't been here, this way, it would have been somewhere else and maybe another way. I'm glad it was here, Gordon." She nodded toward Ash.
"Well, I'm glad for you, on that account. You been needing somebody to run in harness with as long as I've known you." He looked at Ash, adding, "A lightning rod for trouble. Can't say you haven't been warned."
"Trouble she can mostly handle," Ash pointed out dispassionately.
"Yeah. But, see, the thing is, it never occurs to her that maybe she shouldn't handle everything that comes along all by her lonesome. That it's not just about what she can do, but also about what she should do. And sometimes that means acceptin' a helping hand."
"Stop talking about me as if I weren't here, Gordon. Besides, I have help now-you two."
"And you managed to keep both of us out of the loop for the better part of three weeks," he countered.
"Okay, okay. But you're in the loop now, so some brainstorming would be helpful. I hope."
They were seated around a patio table and under the shade of an umbrella behind Gordon's house and near his dock, a place which provided both privacy and a refuge from the hot afternoon sun.
Gordon pursed his lips. "I guess you've already made your enemies list?"
"More or less." She and Ash had discussed that over lunch. "You know as well as I do that I made a few in the army when I worked intelligence and investigation. And since I joined the SCU I've helped put away some genuinely evil scum. But that's the thing-they were put away. Or killed."
"None of them on the loose?"
"Not that I can find out. We went back to my place after lunch long enough for me to get online and check the databases."
"Which she had apparently done before, during one of the blackouts," Ash added.
Gordon frowned. "So you been thinking about enemies for a while now."
Riley nodded. "Looks that way. My computer log shows I not only checked but also double-checked the whereabouts of every perp I helped put away during the last five years. They're all dead or safely locked up still."
"Maybe you need to go back further."
With a slight grimace, Riley said, "That takes me back to active service overseas, when enemies were all over the place. But I doubt any of them would target me specifically, at least to this extent; they saw the uniform, not Riley Crane."
"Then maybe this isn't personal."
"It feels personal. Very personal. Very specific in terms of an attack. Like somebody figured out what makes me tick and deliberately aimed to take away all my defenses. Not just the spooky senses, but even my memories, my sense of self. Gordon, somebody has been getting inside my head."
"You sure about that, babe? I mean, no disrespect, but, fact is, your memory is shaky and the spooky senses are AWOL, so-"
"They aren't AWOL anymore, thanks to Ash. Not a hundred percent yet, but getting there." She sent Ash a quick smile when he reached over and took her hand.
"So what're they telling you?" Gordon asked.
"That I'm part of the puzzle. Maybe even the reason all this is happening. That somebody has been getting inside my head."
"And using black-occult energy to do it?"
"At least partly." Riley frowned. "I've been trying to think of a possible enemy with that sort of knowledge, because it really is specialized and not something you read about in a textbook. But I've only encountered two black-occult practitioners during investigations, and both of them are dead."
Ash said, "You only mentioned one when we talked at lunch. The last time you investigated supposed occult activity, a few months back, and found a serial killer operating."
She nodded. "He wasn't psychic but had learned how to channel dark energy pretty damn effectively nevertheless. At least to the extent of being able to…oh, cloud my senses, for want of a better phrase."
"Which is what this enemy seems able to do," Ash pointed out.
"Yeah, but aside from the fact that I was present when the guy was autopsied, his effect on my senses was very different from what I'm going through now."
"Maybe because he didn't Taser you first," Gordon suggested.
That possibility gave Riley pause. "Well…could be. If you start out with an artificial disruption of the electrical activity of the brain, any additional sort of attack is bound to have a more extreme result. On the other hand…"
"What?" Ash was watching her intently.
"I'm just wondering if the Taser was the initial attack. If whoever this is has the ability to channel dark energy, then maybe he was having an effect on me from the very beginning. Blocking me somehow, distracting me. Slowing my reaction time, even clouding my judgment. Maybe that was why I had the sense there was something wrong here, despite the lack of any real evidence of occult activity-before we found Tate's body, at least."
Gordon shook his head slightly, and said, "I've seen your spooky senses at work long enough not to easily doubt them, babe, but I got to wonder this time. If you've got an enemy deadly enough to set all this up as a lure to get you here and then spend weeks messing with your head and your life, how can you not know who he is?"
"I thought I did know," Riley admitted. "Especially when I found out about the serial the police are after in Charleston. But it can't be him, that's why I didn't mention him. He's dead." Bishop said so, and I can trust that.
"Who did you suspect?" Ash asked.
"The only other serial I've ever encountered who had an interest in the occult," Riley said. "John Henry Price."
She thought for an instant it was only her hand that had gone cold suddenly, but then she realized it was Ash, his hand, and when she looked at his face, the coldness went all the way to her bones.
"You knew him," she said.
"Still no luck?"
Leah looked up from her desk, surprised that the sheriff had come to her rather than summon her to his office. "The background checks? No, nothing new. We do have confirmation of Jenny Cole's marriage to Wesley Tate-and their divorce. Just as she said."
"Shit." Jake scowled. "There's gotta be something more."