PsyCop: GhosTV Part 26

How frustrating, that he was so close to understanding what was going on...and yet, so far. "That's about the size of it. You fell asleep watching the astral channel and here you are. Astral projecting." On the other side of the wall, I heard a door open and shut. It made me realize how spoiled I'd become living in my very own building- a building with industrially-thick walls that blocked out the outside world so effectively it was just Jacob, and just me. I lowered my voice.

"Hey. Can you say it? Tell me you're astral and I'll stop harping on it." There was a knock on our bathroom door, and Jacob's astral body snapped back into his physical so quick it looked like the subway speeding by. He sat up, squinting, mostly awake in no time flat. I climbed out of bed, impressed that he'd cleared enough s.p.a.ce in the room that I could actually call what I was doing walking. I turned off the GhosTV, and went to get rid of Dreyfuss before Jacob completely forgot his bodiless jaunt.

222.

When I opened the door, I only did it far enough to see one of Dreyfuss'

eyes, and I said, "Now is not a good-"

"We cracked Professor March's email."

223.

Chapter 25.

Visions of gospels and testaments danced in my head. I steeled myself to hear that Debbie March's email was full of the bible, just like Lisa's, just like Jacob's. And I started spinning out a theory that maybe Jacob hadn't been nabbed yet because he was a Stiff, which wasn't a very good name for his red, ropy power, but it was all I had.

Or maybe the holy roller who was supposed to grab him got a load of his scowl, and his Glock, and his six-foot-three of hard-pumped muscle.

And maybe they went back for reinforcements.

My mouth had gone dry and my throat felt fluttery when Dreyfuss interrupted my impending panic attack by saying, "No weird emails.

Well...plenty of weird emails. She's got friends into some kinky co-splay stuff. But no weird bible emails."

"What are you saying? There's nothing suspicious going on?" I checked my watch. "It's the middle of the night and she's nowhere."

"I didn't say there was nothing suspicious-I just said her email's clean...er, clean-ish, anyway."

"But she's still missing."

He turned his hands palm-up and gave a shrug that was way too flip-pant for the situation.

"You think this is funny?"

224.

He actually considered his answer before he gave it. "I can't even recall the last time I found something funny, Detective." He turned back toward the bathroom door to retreat to his room, but before he closed it, he added, "A detail that might or might not matter-it wasn't a Q-mail account. She had her own domain, and her email went through that-so someone could've tried to bible her and got caught in a filter. We won't know 'til we subpoena her webhost." Some filter.

Once Dreyfuss was gone, I turned around to face Jacob. He gestured toward the decoy bed and said, "I slept over here because you looked so beat, I wanted to make sure you got some rest." I laughed. So help me. His so-called "consideration" had just side-swiped a reaction out of me.

"That's funny?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe it's just ironic. Maybe Dreyfuss is right, and nothing's actually funny, and laughter's just a way to keep our heads from blowing up." I maneuvered around the console, sat down hard on the bed where the dirty astral deed was done, and said, "You left the GhosTV on all night and you projected, but you snapped back to your body when he knocked on the door."

Jacob planted his hands on his hips like he wanted to challenge me.

"When? Just now?"

"Just now."

"And you saw it."

"Saw it, felt it, took the tour and bought the postcard." I decided to drop the smarta.s.s act, since he looked so profoundly bewildered, and instead I patted the bed and invited him to sit down beside me. He sat. The bed dipped. I took his hand between mine and said, "I was 225.

trying to make sure you'd remember. I guess I didn't hammer home my point forcefully enough."

"Was I doing anything, or was I just...I dunno...floating around?"

"Oh, you were doing something, all right," I said. He looked at me sideways as if to see if I meant what it sounded like I meant, and I added, "Horndog."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He sat with his amazement for a few seconds, and then said, "Was I any good?"

I could have kept teasing him, but I decided that, thanks to all his secrets that came to light during the astral honesty session, I'd feel like a grade-A jerk if I smart-alecked my way out of this one. I slipped my ectoplasm hand around the back of his neck, drew his face toward me so our foreheads clonked together, and said, "The aftershocks rocked the astral plane." He looked pleased. "I just wish you could remember."

"I'm trying. I don't know. It feels like it does when you know you just had a dream, but you can't grasp it, not at all, even a single detail." I kissed the corner of his mouth. "There. Does that bring anything back?"

He licked his lips and considered. "I think I need another reminder." I kissed him again, fit my lips against his more squarely, and lingered over his lush mouth for a few seconds so I could really appreciate the contours, and the texture, and the taste. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me. I looked back...and I wondered what it would take for me to look at him "that way," like he wanted me to so badly. I wasn't sure. I spent most of my time trying to be totally devoid of expression, to not let anyone, living or dead, sneak past my own personal brand of shield. Quite possibly, I wouldn't know how to really look at anybody "that way" even if I tried.

226.

If I couldn't figure out how to make my face convey my feelings, I suppose I'd need to settle for words. "You know how much I love you, right? I don't say it enough, I know. It's...I..." I sighed. "I do. And I've never felt like this before. About anyone. Only you." While my face was the white noise of the facial expression continu-um, Jacob's was more like a symphony. His eyes softened and went all smitten, and he grabbed me by the shoulders, pulled me against him and stopped just short of kissing me hard, and instead, brought our lips together soft as a whisper while his whole body trembled with tension.

I could take a lesson from him. Really. Literally. Get him to feel an emotion and watch what it did to his face-then turn to a mirror and try to see what it might feel like to look the same way. If I really wanted to try it, he'd do it for me. He'd probably do just about anything for me. Somehow, though, I couldn't see myself actually asking him.

Because that would be weird.

"I think it'd be okay if you let me out of your sight," Jacob said. "So some religious freak spammed my inbox. I can defend myself. I'm armed-Lisa wasn't."

No disrespect to Lisa, but if she wasn't flashing a badge and a gun, I'd have to agree, she was nowhere near as imposing as Jacob. Even so.

"Maybe, if I knew I was leaving you where a bunch of people could see you. Dreyfuss to watch your back. And then maybe Chekotah to keep an eye on Dreyfuss. Maybe then. But we're only working this one angle before breakfast, so it's not like you need to be somewhere else. There's no reason for us to split up now." I stopped in front of the door number Lyle had given me, and raised a hand to knock.

227.

"Vic," Jacob said quietly. I looked back over my shoulder. "You'll get more out of him without me there."

Talk about a conversation I had no desire to revisit-though Jacob didn't remember having it the first time. "I'm not any good at batting my eyelashes to try to build rapport with my witnesses. It doesn't work, seeing as how they're usually dead. Besides, you take better notes than I do."

I knocked. Lyle let us in, and then got fl.u.s.tered because he only had one chair to offer, the computer chair from his desk. "Just pretend I'm not here," Jacob said, and he strolled over by the window so I could sit down and look Lyle in the eye while I interviewed him.

Lyle perched on the edge of his bed. His lamps and accessories were all Ikea. The bed was made, the surfaces of the dresser, desk and nightstand were all clear, and the scent of Gray Flannel hung in the air. Nothing bad, as far as smells go. Just something that would undoubtedly live in my brain forever after as "that smell from PsyTrain." I leaned forward, planted my elbows on my knees, did my best to arrange my face like a warm and caring person might, and said, "Something you told me last night-I was hoping you could expand on it."

He swallowed, and went a bit blotchy. "I really have no idea...."

"You said Five Faith was responsible, and that they were targeting someone by going after Lisa, Karen and Debbie."

"Not Debbie. Oh, h.e.l.l, no. Debbie would never...this was before Debbie disappeared too."

Debbie would never what? I was itching to ask, seeing as how whatever this thing Debbie would never do was, Lisa had apparently done it. I pitched my voice to sound as casual as I could, even though I felt like a big fake. "Then just satisfy my curiosity." I smiled. I was so out 228.

of practice it almost hurt. "What was this first theory of yours, the one that doesn't fit because Debbie would never...."

"She'd never let Bert get in her pants, is what." He gave a nervous laugh. "Maybe students get starry-eyed about the power and the prestige, they're naive, and they're so blown away by his Indian shaman thing-but Debbie was too grounded to get sucked in by all of that. Just goes to show you, I've seen way too many episodes of Law & Order. Dreaming up this whole convoluted thing where Five Faith gets back at Bert for being a heretic by offing the women he's slept with one by one."

We had no proof that anyone had been "offed."

And also...what was that Indian necklace doing in Debbie's shower?

It'scomplicated-that's what she'd told me. Maybe she didn't buy into the Chekotah Fan Club. That didn't mean she wouldn't take him for a spin out of boredom, or isolation, or a sense of camaraderie. Or the desire to get back at Faun Windsong.

Faun Windsong. Who was head over heels for Bert Chekotah.

"How long have Chekotah and, uh, Katrina been an item?"

"Ever since I got here."

"Then when did he have time to be dating these other women?"

"Who said anything about dating? I just said they were sleeping together."

"And then Katrina, what? Turns a blind eye?"

"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt." I think he just barely stopped himself from calling me "girlfriend."

"So if Five Faith wanted to get at Chekotah by going after someone he was seeing, why wouldn't Katrina have been at the top of their list?" Lyle looked baffled. "I don't know. Maybe they're saving her for last."

229.

His laptop gave a little chime. "That's breakfast. We need to go; the vegan sausage tastes pretty nasty when it gets cold. Sorry I couldn't think of anything more useful."

We stood, and Jacob, who was already standing, got to the door first.

As he opened it, Lyle put his hand on my forearm and said, "Could I talk to you alone for a sec?"

Jacob gave me a raised eyebrow as if to say, See?Itoldyouone-on-onewould'vebeenbetter. "I'll be right in the hall." I didn't think I could handle knowing any more of PsyTrain's dirty little secrets, but I supposed I didn't have any choice but to hear them. After Jacob closed the door behind him, I turned toward Lyle with my arms crossed and said, "Okay. What else?"

"Well, I...was wondering if you wanted to get together for a drink after my shift. Five thirty? Happy hour at El Dorado across the street?" Whoa. "That wouldn't be a good idea."

"Oh. My. G.o.d. You're not gay." Lyle's blotches turned fuchsia. "I'm so sorry, I totally misread-"

I cleared my throat. "Uh, I am, but...I'm seeing somebody." More nervous laughter. "Thank G.o.d. That would've been beyond awkward! So you're seeing someone in Chicago, so what? It's just a drink."

"And I'm on duty. I don't punch a time clock at five and call it a day." He let out a huffy sigh, crossed his arms to mirror my stance, and gave me a "you're such a partyp.o.o.per" look.

"Sorry," I said lamely, and turned toward the door.

"Well, if you change your mind and decide you're up for a quickie, you know where to find me."

230.

Once I got out of the room, I'm not sure why I was more relieved-that Jacob was still in the hallway, unabducted, just as he promised he would be, or that I was no longer alone with Lyle "quickie" Peters.

No one said a word on the way to the fancy staff dining room, but I couldn't tell if it was everyone who felt awkward, or just me.

We paused outside the dining room, and Lyle turned to look at us as if he couldn't fathom why we weren't charging into the room to load up on sprouted wheat bagels and fair trade coffee. "You go on ahead," I said. "We're right behind you."

Lyle headed into the dining room and started pouring coffee.

"So?" Jacob asked. "What did he have to tell you in private?"

"He invited me for drinks. It wasn't my place to out you, so I just kept it vague and told him I was seeing somebody."

"Oh." Jacob smirked. He didn't look nearly as threatened by my potential date as astral Jacob would have been. "I was hoping he'd dish some more dirt."

I wasn't sure I could handle any more dirt-especially when it was Lisa getting dirty. Lisa. And Chekotah. I know, I know, Lisa's a grown-up and, if it was even true, I was sure she had her reasons. But the thought of Chekotah putting the moves on her for a little side action made me want to clock him in the face.

Which would make breakfast pretty interesting.

"So we look at Chekotah?" Jacob said.

The boyfriend is always the logical place to start, and yeah, we did need to take a better look at Chekotah. Maybe we'd see something in light of our new perspective-but did I think it'd point to him sleeping his way through PsyTrain and driving off his conquests before they could tattle to Faun Windsong? No. In fact, I didn't think he had any 231.

idea what was going on. He'd seemed upset when we arrived, and genuinely distressed when he heard Debbie was gone too.

"And keep an eye on Katrina," I said. "She might be a lot of things, but she's not stupid. Maybe she's not as oblivious as Lyle thinks."

232.

Chapter 26.

Jacob and I were the last ones in the dining room. Three seats were open: one by Lyle, one by the bookkeeper, and one by Faun Windsong.

Katrina. Whatever. Although I was seized by a profound urge to get to know the bookkeeper better, it was easy enough to identify my avoidance for what it was, and I sat beside Katrina. Jacob took the seat next to Lyle. The bookkeeper was on his own.