town and the office windows, isolating them from the rest of the world.
15
After a while, Isabella stopped crying. She raised her head and gave him a shaky smile.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “Lately that’s been happening to me without warning. I’m fine one minute and then I think about how she might actually be dead and that maybe I’m just fooling myself and all of a sudden I’m crying.”
“It’s all right,” he said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He realized that she was trying to step back. Reluctantly he opened his arms and released her.
She sat down, carefully refolded the damp handkerchief and handed it to him. She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose one last time. She tossed the tissue into the trash basket, drank some tea and composed herself.
He stood in the center of the office for a few seconds, unsure of what to do next. When nothing helpful came to mind, he went back to his desk, swallowed more coffee and forced himself to focus on the problem at hand.
“Using your line of logic,” he began.
She gave him a wan smile. “That’s a polite way of saying you don’t believe me.”
Out of nowhere anger flashed through him. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. I’m trying to gather facts here.”
She sighed. “I know. I apologize. I’ve been a little emotional lately.”
“Understandable,” he said gruffly.
She nodded, very serious. “Yes, I think so. I’ve been under a lot of stress.”
“That’s certainly one word for it,” he agreed. “All right, let’s try this again. You said someone tried to kill you a few weeks ago in Phoenix?”
“Yes. Well, two men tried to kidnap me. I’m sure they planned to kill me.”
“How did you escape?” he asked.
She moved one hand in a vague motion. “Turns out there’s a flip side of my talent. I can find things and people, all right. But I can use my ability to conceal them, as well. I can tell someone to get lost. Literally. That’s what I did with the two thugs they sent after me.”
He ignored the pronoun. They was very popular with conspiracy buffs. There was always a mysterious they manipulating things from behind the scenes.
“How does it work?” he asked.
She blinked. “How does what work?”
“Your talent.”
“How does any talent work?” She gave a little shrug. “I have to have physical contact to do it, that’s all I know. They had me cornered on a mall roof. I sent them down an emergency stairwell and out onto the street. I don’t know what happened to them after that. I assume they walked for a while until they came out of the trance.”
“Or got run down?”
“I told them to only cross at the lights,” she said. “When I put people into a get-lost trance, they tend to follow orders very precisely.”
“Sounds like a form of hypnotic suggestion.”
“I suppose so.”
“Why did you tell them to only cross at the lights?”
“I assumed that if two guys from the company I used to work for got run down on a Phoenix street, it would create more problems than it would solve,” she said. “Dead bodies have a way of causing trouble.”
But the lack of dead bodies meant no police records or any other kind of evidence that would lend credibility to her story, he thought. He was starting to understand how Alice had felt when she fell down the rabbit hole. He had to deal with the very real possibility that Isabella was as lost in a conspiracy fantasy as the Sentinel. But one thing was clear, Isabella believed every word she was saying.
“Tell me about the conspiracy,” he said.
“I used to work for Lucan Protection Services. Do you know it?”
He paused his coffee mug in midair, all of his senses crackling. “Sure. Max Lucan is a member of the Arcane Society. He runs a high-end art-and-antiquities security agency.”
“I went to work for his company about seven months ago. At the time I felt very fortunate to get the job.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say that the combination of my talent plus my family history gives me employment problems. The result is that I change employers the way some folks change their socks.” She paused. “I get fired a lot.”
“I understand the personal history issues. It could not have been easy growing up in a family that doesn’t officially exist. But what’s the problem with your talent? I would think being a finder would make you a natural fit for any kind of investigation or