glasses. A caption read Dr. Jarod Cunningham, Clinical Psychologist. “She was the sole survivor. That’s going to leave some scars.”
“So then you think it’s possible this book of Folsom’s—meeting him by chance in that greenroom—somehow triggered a violent break with reality?” asked the host.
“It’s entirely possible. All this vampire stuff, all wound up with Sumerian legend, the very thing her parents were studying. It has to be connected,” said the shrink.
“Right. But the question remains, where’d she get the gun?”
A third man broke in, identified as a congressman. “None of that is relevant right now. What we need is for Professor Lanfair to come in and talk to us. And in the meantime, I must reiterate my call for calm. People are panicking—”
“People are dying, Congressman,” the host interrupted.
The politician nodded and looked right at the camera. “These vigilante groups are murdering their own out of fear and ignorance. People, there’s no such thing as vampires. No such thing. This violence needs to stop, and the sooner this professor comes in and tells the truth about what happened in that studio that night, the faster that will happen. There is more blood on this woman’s hands than just that of the two people she shot in Studio Three.”
“Allegedly shot,” said the host.
The congressman went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “This was not a government sponsored execution, as some fringe internet sites are claiming. There is no conspiracy here. There’s no more than one deluded old man, one irresponsible publisher looking to exploit his delusions and one mentally scarred genius who suffered a break with reality.”
James took the remote control away from her and turned the television set off. Lucy looked…stricken. And stunned and horrified and…
He went to stand between her and the TV set, because she was still staring at it. “You and I both know that’s all bull.”
She met his eyes then. Hers were wet. “But what we know is irrelevant. Most people are going to believe it. I’m a reclusive brainiac. I have no family, almost no friends. If they ask my neighbors about me, they’ll say, ‘She keeps to herself.’ God, they couldn’t have picked a better scapegoat.”
“Lucy, we’re going to fix this.”
“How? How are we going to fix this?” She lowered her head and shook it slowly. “My career is over. My credibility is destroyed. And I know, James—believe me, I know—this isn’t anywhere near as devastating as the possible extermination of an entire race. If I had to pick one or the other, I’d choose helping to save your people over my own career—I hope you believe that.”
That was the thing. He did believe it.
“But it’s still devastating. Because I can’t go back home again. My life as I knew it…it’s over. It’s over.” Blinking back tears, she looked at the telephone. “My God, I don’t know if even Marcus will believe me now. What must he be thinking?”
The telephone rang, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. James was all too aware of her turmoil, her fear, her uncertainty about her own future, and he wished he could make things right, but he would be damned if he knew how.
The phone was still ringing. Lucy stared at it, and then, reluctantly, she picked it up. “Hello?”
James leaned close to her, so he could hear. She tipped the phone toward him slightly.
“Lucy, is it you?” said an urgent male voice. “Please, for the love of God, tell me it’s you.”
“It’s me. Hello, Marcus. Your phone’s not tapped or anything, is it?”
“Of course not! Lucy, are you all right?”
“Yes. But I didn’t do what they’re saying I did. I didn’t—”
“I know. It never even crossed my mind. Mental break? You’re the sanest person I know. Lucy, where are you? Are you all right? Can I do anything to help you?”
“Yes, actually. I need to get my hands on the three priest-king statues from that traveling Sumerian exhibit that’s at the Met right now. I just need to examine them. Can you get me through the red tape?”
“The Met? Yes, I think I can do that. You can’t go as yourself, though, not with all the press you’ve been getting. Could you…manage a disguise of some sort? I know it sounds over the top, but given the situation…”
“I was already thinking that, myself.”
“All right, give me some time.”
“I’m afraid we don’t have much time, Marcus.”
“We?”
“Yes, I’m, um…with a colleague. He’s helping me.”
“But you’re safe, yes?”
“I’m as safe as I can be, given the circumstances.”