Cyndia Bodine. I guess what we saw was her ‘shining’ you.”
Sherlock gaped at him. “You mean she attacked me psychically? From clear across the room? But how is that possible? She didn’t get near me.”
“She didn’t need to get near you or touch you. She attacked you psychically because you’re the most vulnerable of the four of us.”
“Because I’m not gifted like the rest of you.”
“Maybe.”
Sherlock licked her dry lips, shot a look toward Mrs. Bodine still standing on the deck staring at them, rubbing her arms up and down, as if she were cold. But why would Cyndia Bodine attack her? Then she remembered the words again and repeated them aloud. “ ‘You couldn’t see what you couldn’t see.’ She said those words to me because she was worried I’d see something she didn’t want me to see. But what is it, Dillon? I walked around the garage, checked the outbuildings, the guest house, but I didn’t see anything that set off an alarm.”
They saw Griffin and Carson approaching the house. She let Dillon help her to her feet, steadied herself.
Carson called out, “Why were you lying on the porch? Are you all right?”
Savich nodded toward Cyndia Bodine. “She’s fine now. Cyndia Bodine attacked her, shined her. But she won’t do it again.”
Griffin said, “Where is her sister? Where is Jessalyn Bodine?”
Carson said, “She’s probably in the basement, stirring a cauldron.”
39
* * *
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
CIA HEADQUARTERS
THURSDAY EVENING
Claire Farriger stood at her office window watching rain-bloated black clouds scuttle across a starless sky. She knew it was still hot outside, the humidity near 100 percent, and rain was close now. She should leave soon or she’d get soaked. But she couldn’t. What a mess Nikki had made of something as simple as picking an unsuspecting computer nerd like Justice Cummings off the street. Even at a preset location. It was Nikki who’d insisted her people be the ones to grab Cummings, that they would keep him hidden until he understood fully what was at stake, and they had his agreement. A deal breaker, she’d said. It was the price Claire paid for agreeing to work with amateurs, without field experience, without guts to do what was necessary. Keep Cummings safe? It was ridiculous. Bad enough Cummings had happened upon the chatter about the smart wall before she could shut it down. He could have ruined everything, even exposed her. She could have taken care of it herself, but Nikki and her blasted conscience insisted she and her people could handle it. She sighed. It would have been so much easier for her to arrange a fatal accident. Of course, she hadn’t spoken about Nikki’s massive failure the night before at the dojo. What good would it have done?
She heard a light knock on the door.
“Come.”
The door opened and Alan Besserman walked in. He worked under her as a resident expert in Russian technology and weaponry, and he was Justice Cummings’s group chief.
Farriger started to take a strip off him for keeping her waiting, but she saw his reflection in the window glass. He looked beyond exhausted, his suit rumpled as if he’d slept in it, his shoulders slumped—and something else. There was both fear and alarm in his pale, bloodshot eyes. Obviously neither he nor the half dozen agents she’d assigned had managed to track down Justice Cummings. Farriger closed her eyes a moment. She reviewed her options if they didn’t find him before the inevitable phone call from FBI Assistant Director James Maitland. Besserman had already put him off. Maitland wasn’t a man she wanted to set against her. And of course he’d have Savich with him.
She stated the obvious, without turning, “So I gather you still haven’t found Cummings?”
“No, ma’am.” She saw Besserman push his fist against his palm in the window reflection. “We know he took an Uber from about three blocks from the accident to Alexandria. We went through the neighborhood where he was dropped off, but no one there recognized his photo. He smashed his cell phone, as you know, so no help there.
“We’ve been checking cams in Alexandria, but no sign of him. If he’s alive, why would he hide? Why didn’t he call in? Call me? It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” He paused, then said in an emotionless voice, “I’m beginning to think it’s possible he died from his injuries after striking that car. That wherever he was planning to go in Alexandria, he didn’t make it.”
“Then where is his body?”
“Hasn’t been found yet.”
“Does he