start at the source. Head over to Congressman Walker’s office. I’ve arranged that he’ll be ready for you at ten,” Adam said.
“She’s dead,” Meg told him.
“You
know
that?” Adam asked.
Meg nodded, glancing at Matt as if she didn’t want to speak in his presence.
“I know she must be dead, yes.”
“You saw her?” Adam asked.
Meg glanced at Matt again and lowered her head in a nod.
“It’s all right, Meg. You can speak freely. Don’t worry, Matt has friends around the city who only appear to him. I’m just so sorry that we won’t find your friend alive,” he said very softly.
She’d been crying, Matt saw. He felt a tug of sympathy.
It hurt so badly to lose people.
“You’re absolutely sure?” he heard himself say. He didn’t mean to doubt her; he sincerely hoped she’d been wrong. His voice sounded rougher than he’d intended.
She turned to him. “Agent Bosworth,” she said coldly. “I never say that someone is dead unless I believe it to be true.” He could tell he’d offended her. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; anger helped dissipate pain.
“Until we find her, you can’t be certain,” he said, then asked, “You’ve never had a living person in desperate trouble try to reach you?”
“No,” she said, the one word like a cube of ice in the room.
“Did she speak to you, Meg?” Adam asked.
Meg hesitated. “She couldn’t quite manage to speak, but...I think she asked me to find her. And I—I believe she wants us to find her body.”
Matt felt that Meg Murray had no intention of giving his opinions any credence, but he didn’t feel the need to respond. He’d been around for a long time—as an agent and as one who knew the existence of a sixth sense. She’d learn.
The other agents arrived then.
Adam rose to make introductions. Jackson Crow had come in with Angela Hawkins, Will Chan and Katya Sokolov.
“Agent Murray will be joining this office,” Adam said. “This, as you can appreciate, is a difficult time for her. Meg, everyone’s been briefed on the situation with Lara Mayhew and the two murders. Agent Crow is your boss and I never interfere. Okay, I
seldom
interfere. Agent Hawkins sorts through our many requests and tries to send out the right people. Since we’re near Washington where everything seems a bit unusual, we’re quite busy here. That was a joke—or an attempt at a joke, anyway. Agent Sokolov is a medical examiner as well as an agent. She’ll visit Wong today and inspect the bodies.”
Meg solemnly shook hands with everyone. She asked Will Chan, “What’s your specialty?”
Will smiled. “I was an illusionist,” he told her.
“I see,” Meg said in a pleasant tone that nonetheless relayed her confusion.
Will’s smile grew wider. “My specialty is film, sound, cameras—and now and then, a bit of a performance if necessary. Although occasionally we all have to perform. In any case the team you see here will be working with you on this particular case.”
“Can you play the message your friend left?” Matt asked, not meaning to be churlish, but they weren’t at a getting-to-know-you cocktail party.
“Yes.”
She pulled her phone out of the black leather tote she carried and set it on speaker. They heard a woman’s voice.
One that sounded breathless—and scared.
“Meg, it’s me, Lara. I wanted to let you know I’m going home. Home, as in getting out of DC and heading for Richmond. I’m going as soon as it’s daylight. I’ll talk to you when I can. Love you. Don’t say anything to anyone else, okay? I have to get out of here. Talk soon.”
Meg played the message twice.
Jackson cleared his throat. “She did say she was leaving in the morning.”
“And I wanted to believe it,” Meg said.
There was an awkward silence. Matt wasn’t convinced, but Adam had faith in her conviction.
And they all had faith in Adam.
“So, you see,” Meg said, “something happened during the day or that night that
“She’s dead,” Meg told him.
“You
know
that?” Adam asked.
Meg nodded, glancing at Matt as if she didn’t want to speak in his presence.
“I know she must be dead, yes.”
“You saw her?” Adam asked.
Meg glanced at Matt again and lowered her head in a nod.
“It’s all right, Meg. You can speak freely. Don’t worry, Matt has friends around the city who only appear to him. I’m just so sorry that we won’t find your friend alive,” he said very softly.
She’d been crying, Matt saw. He felt a tug of sympathy.
It hurt so badly to lose people.
“You’re absolutely sure?” he heard himself say. He didn’t mean to doubt her; he sincerely hoped she’d been wrong. His voice sounded rougher than he’d intended.
She turned to him. “Agent Bosworth,” she said coldly. “I never say that someone is dead unless I believe it to be true.” He could tell he’d offended her. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; anger helped dissipate pain.
“Until we find her, you can’t be certain,” he said, then asked, “You’ve never had a living person in desperate trouble try to reach you?”
“No,” she said, the one word like a cube of ice in the room.
“Did she speak to you, Meg?” Adam asked.
Meg hesitated. “She couldn’t quite manage to speak, but...I think she asked me to find her. And I—I believe she wants us to find her body.”
Matt felt that Meg Murray had no intention of giving his opinions any credence, but he didn’t feel the need to respond. He’d been around for a long time—as an agent and as one who knew the existence of a sixth sense. She’d learn.
The other agents arrived then.
Adam rose to make introductions. Jackson Crow had come in with Angela Hawkins, Will Chan and Katya Sokolov.
“Agent Murray will be joining this office,” Adam said. “This, as you can appreciate, is a difficult time for her. Meg, everyone’s been briefed on the situation with Lara Mayhew and the two murders. Agent Crow is your boss and I never interfere. Okay, I
seldom
interfere. Agent Hawkins sorts through our many requests and tries to send out the right people. Since we’re near Washington where everything seems a bit unusual, we’re quite busy here. That was a joke—or an attempt at a joke, anyway. Agent Sokolov is a medical examiner as well as an agent. She’ll visit Wong today and inspect the bodies.”
Meg solemnly shook hands with everyone. She asked Will Chan, “What’s your specialty?”
Will smiled. “I was an illusionist,” he told her.
“I see,” Meg said in a pleasant tone that nonetheless relayed her confusion.
Will’s smile grew wider. “My specialty is film, sound, cameras—and now and then, a bit of a performance if necessary. Although occasionally we all have to perform. In any case the team you see here will be working with you on this particular case.”
“Can you play the message your friend left?” Matt asked, not meaning to be churlish, but they weren’t at a getting-to-know-you cocktail party.
“Yes.”
She pulled her phone out of the black leather tote she carried and set it on speaker. They heard a woman’s voice.
One that sounded breathless—and scared.
“Meg, it’s me, Lara. I wanted to let you know I’m going home. Home, as in getting out of DC and heading for Richmond. I’m going as soon as it’s daylight. I’ll talk to you when I can. Love you. Don’t say anything to anyone else, okay? I have to get out of here. Talk soon.”
Meg played the message twice.
Jackson cleared his throat. “She did say she was leaving in the morning.”
“And I wanted to believe it,” Meg said.
There was an awkward silence. Matt wasn’t convinced, but Adam had faith in her conviction.
And they all had faith in Adam.
“So, you see,” Meg said, “something happened during the day or that night that
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