Page 71 of Sound of Darkness


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Megan winced, glancing over at Colleen. “He...um...”

“He’s psychic,” Colleen said. “The real deal.”

“You mean he can hold something and find someone that way?” Mark asked.

“Not exactly. He can go somewhere—say a crime scene—and see it unfold in his mind. Or he can be with someone and get a feel for where they’ve been or what they’ve done. I thought about suggesting his help before, except I knew he was just finishing up a major case in Philadelphia.”

“He should have been a detective,” Mark commented.

“Well, he loves what he does. He is professional with everyone he’s asked to interview, but he also knows... He just can’t tell people he knows—”

“Back to Salem. No spectral evidence, and thank God,” Mark said.

“Right. But it helps everything move in the right direction. He can also figure whether something was an accident or premeditated... He’s good,” Colleen said. She glanced at Megan.

“If you’re going to be weird and spend your life trying not to appear to be weird, it’s a good thing to have weird siblings who understand you,” Megan said. “People you can talk to when you need help or need to vent.”

“True,” Mark murmured.

They had reached the train station. They had arrived after the rush hour crunch, but the station was still busy.

“I’m going in with you,” Colleen told Megan.

“There are a zillion people here—”

“I’ll see you buy your ticket and get out to the platform.”

“Mark, I’m sure I’ll see you again. Thank you!” Megan said, stepping out of the car.

“No, thank you,” he said. He realized he was already scanning the area, especially not knowing where Brant Pickering was.

Megan waved. Colleen followed her into the station.

Mark found he was suspicious as he looked around the station. That might have been ridiculous. No one could have known when they’d get Megan to the train station—they hadn’t known themselves.

There were plenty of people at the station. He could even see two police officers, watching over the scene.

Colleen reappeared from the station entrance after about ten minutes, heading straight for the car.

She gave him a grimace as she got in.

“We can wait—see that she gets on the train,” Mark told her.

Colleen smiled.

“I saw her to the platform, and I could hear the train coming in.”

“Ah. I guess that works.”

“Ugh, you’re right, though. I didn’t see her get on it.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I don’t know. My parents worry about every little thing, of course. My mom says that at least we all picked the same time zone, so she can get some sleep. Patrick is, well, I wouldn’t mess with Patrick. But I do worry about Megan.”

“You think she’s too trusting?”

“I think she gets enthused about certain projects and people.”

“And Brant Pickering is out there,” Mark muttered.

“He couldn’t know what train she’s on,” Colleen said.

“We didn’t know what train she’d be on.”

“Right. There are thousands of possible victims out there,” Colleen murmured. “Where are we going now?”

“I’m taking you home. Tomorrow, we’ll check out Front Royal and surrounding areas.”

“Okay. A thought—maybe we can get Patrick down here? Let him meet with Jim Carver.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. He can hop on a train, same as Megan.”

“All right. We’ll look into it.”

When they reached her house, he found a space in front where his special plates would allow him to park.

He turned off the engine.

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