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“Me, either.” Jasper’s shoulders twitched, as if suppressing a shiver.
“All right. Let’s discuss what we actually have here.” Vance spread a line of photos on the table. “This is what the bodies looked like.”
Ed leaned over the photographs and picked up a magnifying glass. After perhaps a minute of examining the images, he said: “If I didn’t know better, and without getting overly technical, I’d say this was an attempt to digest food outside the body.”
“My thought as well,” Vance said.
“But what kind of creature is capable of such destruction?” Temple demanded. “Certainly no land animal I’ve ever heard of.”
“Man, for one, though I don’t want to believe a man or men performed such heinous acts,” Jasper said. “But we talked about a few possibilities last night, while stomping around the old man’s backyard. You mentioned a sea creature, didn’t you, Temple?”
“Close enough.” Ed kept his head down, continuing his examination of the photographs. “Certain types of starfish are known to extend their stomachs outside their bodies.”
“I’m not a biologist. Not by any stretch, but are there any land animals capable of this?” Temple asked.
“Fungi are saprobrionts and engage in extracellular digestion. But this is odd and combined with the samples you provided and from all you’ve told me, well, the lack of foreign digestion enzymes precludes an entire line of reasoning and type of animal. However, the evidence does suggest an animal that savages its prey.”
Temple stood straighter, leaning back a little from the photographs. “But we never saw an animal.”
“It has to be an animal,” Jasper said. “There is no other explanation.”
“I disagree,” Vance said. “I found material suggesting an alien world.”
“Are you saying we’re being invaded by aliens from another world?” Jasper asked. “Look, aren’t we getting carried away? Innocent people died at the hands of what we believe are a cult operating in the area.”
“What, all of a sudden you’re buying into the cult idea?” Temple asked. “Seriously?”
“After the van last night and the proximity to the Euclid Hotel, linking the kidnapping with the first one, the little girl, yeah, I am. Look,” Jasper said, “I’m accepting the initial theories you proposed when we first met. As I was saying, we have insanely carried-out suicides, kidnapped people—one living and one dead, and two other dead bodies, both human, but mangled beyond recognition. And we’re worrying about aliens and demons? Am I the crazy one here? How about we focus on reality; what lies within the realm of possibility on earth?”
“Relax, folks.” Ed placed a hand on Temple’s shoulder, and she didn’t flinch or attempt to pull away. “Jasper’s got a point, but how about this: we ask another type of expert around here, an astrophysicist. Also, I’m gonna suggest Vance stick around. We should take all of the material you’ve gathered and run some more conclusive tests in my lab.”
“An astrophysicist? Why?”
“Vance said that some of the material he collected points beyond our world, and should be examined, no? I’m not discounting anything at this point,” Ed said. “But, and this is my opinion as a non-law-enforcement type, you all should be on the street trying to find the cult members. Makes me not want to leave Chicago. You Indiana folks are just plain weird.”
“I’m not from Indiana,” Jasper said. “But going out and catching bad guys is exactly what I’d like to do, and we have other leads to follow up on.”
Ed grinned. “Now you’re sounding like some TV cop show.”
“I’d be impressed if you somehow came up with answers as fast as they do on all the crime scene investigation shows on TV,” Jasper said.
“I thought the FBI crime lab was world class. Why not use them rather than me then, wise guy?” Ed removed his glasses.
“Come on, really? They’re good, but if you need an answer now, not so much.”
“So true,” Temple added.
“Indeed,” Vance said, “why do you think Temple brought me on to her team?”
“You and I both know, my friend.” She winked at Vance. “This was not only my last chance, but yours.”
That was so true, also. They’d both been misfits—well, Vance was. For her part, Temple had pissed off all the wrong folks along the way, even though her case work had been outstanding over the years. Hers was a permanent exile to headquarters. Vance still had a shot at a normal career, whatever that was in the modern day Bureau.
“I’ve missed quite a few things, I think.” Ed twirled his glasses. “Does the plan work for you?”
“Yes, let’s ask this physicist of yours, but how about later? We’ll leave Vance here with you.”
“This’ll likely take most of the day,” Ed said. “How about you guys come back this evening, we’ll chat and grab some drinks?”
Jasper grinned; glad the topic of drinks came up. “Hey Billy.”
“Will you please stop with the Lando crap?” Despite the harsh-sounding warning, Ed was all smiles—Temple could tell he loved this sort of banter and doubted any of his professor and scientist buddies acted like this around him.
“You know, speaking of drinks,” Jasper said, “I hear there are two rules to having a good time.”
Vance was looking confused again.
Temple rolled her eyes. “Jasper thinks he’s a real comedian with all these Billy Dee Williams jokes. You probably don’t remember those beer commercials Billy Dee did back in the day, Vance. It isn’t that funny, so don’t worry about it.”
“What?” protested Jasper. “Come on, that was a pretty good joke. Even Lando thought so.”
Temple smiled. “Me, I think Ed is more attractive than Lando Calrissian, just the way he is—and I’m guessing, and really going out on a limb here, way more intelligent.”
“Why, thank you.” Ed stood taller, beaming.
“Though, I’m not sure how much given your choice of friends.” Temple rolled her head, aiming her gaze at Jasper.
Chapter 18
“I like him, this professor friend of yours.”
The smile hadn’t left Temple’s face ever since they’d departed the university, leaving Vance behind with Edwin White. Temple was happy to meet Ed, but what could possibly come of it, what with her being exiled to the Washington, D.C. area and Ed out here in Chicago? Unless she swung a transfer to the Chicago field office someday, after all the people she pissed off retired from the Bureau. Yeah, right. Once more Temple was getting ahead of herself. And Jasper sure as the Lord above made little green apples wasn’t playing matchmaker. There was no way he’d want her steaming in on his buddy, Ed. Call her old-fashioned, but she wasn’t down with long-distance or internet-based relationships.
“He’s a doctor, no kidding, but he’s not all that braggadocious. Oh,” Jasper said, “you’re gonna wanna hit the exit here and then straight on down Indianapolis Boulevard. We’re gonna have to meet up with the source I told you about, Carlos.”
“Let’s back the conversation up a bit. I need to apologize,” Temple said.
“For?”
“Not what you think.” She reached over and turned on the air conditioning. “I was a bitch early this morning and not at all cold—temperature-wise,” she added, glancing at him. “But don’t get on my bad side.”
A stream of steady clunks rocked the rental car.
“Great roads you have in this neck of the woods,” Temple said.
“They’re constantly repairing,” Jasper said. “But with such heavy daily traffic and rough winters, keeping the roads in navigable condition is nearly impossible. I think the roads on the Indiana side are much worse than Chicago’s.”
“I’m guessing a lot of trucks go along with all the industry in a relatively confined area,” Temple said. “Right?”
“Yes. There’s no question this area benefits greatly from industry, but it is or was no friend to the roadways or the ecosystem. This is mostly ste
el country, and still is—although a lot of jobs in the steel industry have been lost.”
“Plants moved overseas?”
“No, automation mostly. A lot of the secondary industries got hurt worse. That’s why you see so many abandoned buildings and plants in this part of Indiana.”
“Where are we headed?” Temple finally asked, happy to change the topic to the task at hand. “You don’t want to hit your rez first and change before we meet the source?”
“What? No. What I’m wearing will work for the purposes of this meeting.”
“If you say so.” Temple glanced sideways at him and pursed her lips.
“It’s fine for a diner.”
“I suppose,” Temple said. Jeans and an old olive green T-shirt, likely left over from Jasper’s Marine Corps days, were unacceptable in her version of the Bureau, and certainly in Hoover’s Bureau of the past. Of course, in Hoover’s Bureau, Temple would never have been a Special Agent. Not simply because of her skin color, but also because of her gender. Despite all that, the Bureau enjoyed a reputation built on Hoover’s ideals—and one of those was agents looking professional. Suits. Clean cut, that sort of thing.
“So anyway,” Jasper continued, “I want to do a daylight drive-by of a few areas before we meet with Carlos. The diner has decent food, but don’t ask for a cappuccino. We’re going out of the way, but unless we get caught on the wrong side of a long train, we’ll be fine.”
“No worries there.” Temple was pursing her lips again.
“What?”
“You’re a former Marine—”
“Not former. Once a Marine, always a Marine.”
“Yeah right, so you’re a former marine and you sip cappuccinos? You expected one from a diner?”
“Whatever,” Jasper said. “Turn down this road, I think we can do two things—speak with the old woman whose van was stolen, she’s at St. Catherine Hospital, and why not pass by the Euclid Hotel and the house we visited last night?”
“You’re thinking it’s odd so much is happening in such a confined area, aren’t you? See? You’re predisposed to working SAG type leads.” Temple grinned.
“It’s logical for any type of investigation. For instance, the animal control place would make sense if the attacks were easily explained, but the fact that the mangled bodies were found near the Euclid Hotel is too coincidental.”
“Okay, but I’m not sure what we’re looking for.”
After a minute of following his directions, Temple said, “Wow, this route seems circuitous. Have you ever worked counterintelligence?”
“No, not really. Not beyond helping out some of the other squads when necessary, why?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re performing a surveillance detection route.”
“Maybe I am. This route wouldn’t exactly be the one most people take to where we’re going, and I wanted to ascertain if any interested parties tailed us, but what I said a few minutes ago still applies.”
“Since you brought up the subject, anyone following us?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t want to tell you the plan simply because you might have driven differently. You’re not upset, are you?”
“Do I look upset to you?”
“To be honest, I have a hard time reading you.” Jasper sighed. “Not that my expertise ever rested in reading women, obviously, based on my ex-wife Lucy.”
“Something tells me you’re being a little too hard on yourself. It takes two to tango, you know? We all have relationships go pear-shaped on us.”
“See all those train tracks on your right?” Jasper nodded out the window. “We’re on Chicago Avenue now, cutting across East Chicago.”
“Train tracks, so what?”
“Yes, but look at the sheer number all lined up. More rail runs through northwestern Indiana than almost anywhere else in the United States.”
“Again, so what?”
“I’m thinking if I’m part of a cult, we hide in this area, what with all the noise, trains, and industry. The exact location of these events is niggling at me—why are so many strange things happening in or around the Euclid Hotel? There are plenty of train tracks around, but the hotel overlooks a fairly busy intersection with residences not far off. There are better, more deserted places in the area, and even more in the next city over, Gary, where anything goes.”
“Hiding in plain sight, most likely,” Temple said. “And in an abandoned building no one cares about and no one visits.”
Jasper shrugged. “Let’s drive through and see if any ideas shake loose. Perhaps we’ll have some questions for Carlos when we meet him at the diner.”
At least plenty of green remained in this part of the state. Industry hadn’t destroyed all the plant life—and there must be plenty of animals roaming about despite the large number of people and dangerous surroundings.
At Jasper’s direction Temple headed down Elm Street, toward St. Catherine Hospital.
* * *
“The building looks old,” Temple said.
“I think it was built in the Twenties. I’m a big fan of that time period,” Jasper said.
Temple’s eyes widened. “You? Really?”
“Yeah. The area needed a hospital because of the heavy industrial focus and number of workers in the East Chicago area. The exterior has changed over the years, but the original spirit of the building has been preserved by keeping the brick and the original arches resting in the middle of the main entrance. They’ve increased the size of the hospital substantially over the years.”
“Come on,” Temple said. “That sounded as if you recited it from a book or some Wikipedia entry.”
“All right, you got me,” Jasper said, and held up his hands. “While I am a fan of the Roaring Twenties, the truth was that I had an investigation once that led me to this very hospital and I asked a lot of questions.”
“You have a good memory,” Temple said.
“That might be the only thing that got me through college.”
Temple laughed.
Jasper approached the reception area and smiled at the youngish woman behind the glass.
“May I help you?” Her voice and demeanor were pleasant.
Jasper displayed his FBI credentials and badge, pressing them against the window.
“I’m Special Agent Jasper Wilde, and this is my partner, Temple Black.”
“Oh.” Her chair glided back, as if Jasper had informed her he’d contracted a horrible communicable disease. “What—what can I do for you?” She swallowed. “How can I be of assistance?”
“A stolen vehicle involved in an accident last night,” Jasper withdrew his credentials, “is registered to a patient of yours, a Mrs. Hazel Thomas. We learned she’d been hospitalized recently.”
“Of course,” the young woman said, “I’ll check for you. Though, I’m somewhat taken aback.”
“Why is that?” Temple asked, stepping forward, eyebrow cocked.
“Don’t FBI agents wear suits? Black ones? You know, white shirts, ties, and a hat? What are those called?”
“Fedoras?”
“Yes, fedoras.” The young woman tapped away at a keyboard, the light of the monitor reflecting in her eyes.
“Told you,” Temple said. “You look like a bum.”
“Why are you interested in a stolen vehicle?” asked the receptionist. “That seems, well, I’m not sure how to put it, small potatoes for the FBI.”
“There’s more to the investigation, Miss,” Jasper said. “Much more, but I’m not really at liberty to discuss the details. But I can assure you, the hospital is in no danger.”
The young lady nodded. “Well, she is here. Go to the second floor and visit the nurse’s station. I’ll inform them you’re on your way.”
“Thank you.”
A nurse on the second floor escorted them to the old woman’s room. Two beds stood side by side, one of which was empty, while the other held Hazel Thomas, frail and withered.
&nb
sp; “Had to be my lazy nephew who took my minivan,” she croaked. If dust had flown from her mouth, Temple would not have been surprised. She did, however, remind Temple of her own grandmother, even if this woman was white. The thought warmed her heart.
“How can you be sure?” Jasper stood at the side of the bed. “And what is his name?”
“Alan Smith, lazy little bastard,” she said. “And you know, he came right out and asked me if he could borrow the van for a while. I told him no, I needed my minivan to get around. Then I fell that very night.”
Temple stood beside Jasper and leaned over. “Oh?” Temple placed on a hand on her arm.
The old woman patted her hand. “Breaking a hip at my age would likely be the end for me. Thought I was going to die.” She licked, then smacked her lips, but they remained cracked and dry save for a bit of thick white moisture tucked into the corners.
“You think he did something to cause your admittance here?” Temple asked.
“Not sure. Awfully coincidental, don’t you think?”
“He ever hang around with questionable or undesirable types?” Temple squeezed her arm gently.
“Like attracts like. Oh, who am I kidding? He was, pardon my language, a shit magnet.”
Temple snorted and covered her mouth. She glanced at Jasper, whose eyes had widened.
The old woman chuckled. “That boy never done good by anyone. He lived in his mother’s, my sister’s, basement all the way up until last year. One day he comes home and says he’s moving out. My sister had always coddled him—”
“Where did he go?”
“He never moved out. My sister died before he could get his carcass out of her house.”
“Ah. What was the cause of death, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“She broke not only her neck, but just about everything in a fall. Going down into the basement of all things to get him up for work.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there.”
“So, no foul play then?”
“Not unless you count the fact he lived in his mother’s basement, a grown man, lazy and not getting up for his so-called job.”
“Which was?”