Haven (21 page)

“Gossip, or your source inside the police department?”

Nellie laughed. “That makes it sound so…Big City. My source inside the police department. Yeah, Vic, when I ran into Melissa at the coffee shop this morning, she told me all about him. Well, what the rank and file know about him, at any rate, since Dan tends to use her as a glorified secretary.”

He wasn’t interested in the lot of glorified secretaries wearing police uniforms. “So what did she say?”

“Not a lot. He’s a writer, nonfiction, and he’s here researching local legends and reputed hauntings. Supposed to be writing a book about that sort of thing.”

“There’s enough of that in Baron Hollow to fill a book? News to me.”

Nellie shook her head. “Not just in Baron Hollow. The Southeast. Word is, he’s looking for the lesser-known stories and legends. We’re far enough off the beaten path to provide more than a few of those. We’ve been written up locally, even regionally, but not nationally. At least not until the ghost hunters discovered us in the last couple of years.”

“Some of those stories have made their way onto the Internet,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but nothing’s gone viral. Books by legitimate writers and researchers are going to get more attention than Internet blogs or fans-of-the-paranormal sites; you know that.”

“
Maybe. I also know that with national exposure comes a lot more interest in Baron Hollow. And that means more visits by earnest ‘researchers’ anxious to catch a ghost on video or—what do they call it? When they supposedly get a recording of a spirit speaking?”

“Jeez, I don’t know. And I’m surprised you know anything about this sort of thing.”

“Hard not to know a bit, what with all the TV programs on now.” Victor shrugged, then frowned. “Interesting that a paranormal research group showed up at the
same time as the writer.”

Disgruntled, Nellie said, “Why is it that everybody but me knows about them?”

“Answering only for myself, I saw their van when they arrived,” Victor replied, his thoughtful gaze turning once more to the window. “It has the name of their outfit on the sides. And one of those weird logos.”

“Weird how?”

“Oh, you know. Obvious that somebody tried to come up with symbols for paranormal research without making it look like they were in search of Casper the Friendly Ghost. What this outfit came up with was one of those double loops I seem to remember symbolizing infinity, and above it flames and a bird coming out of them. Weird.”

Nellie dredged into her memory and said, “The bird and flames could mean the phoenix. Symbol of destruction and rebirth.” She made a mental note to research the group later.

“Well, whatever it’s supposed to mean, I just find it very interesting and not a little odd that we have paranormal researchers
and
a writer looking into local myth and legend descend on us at the same time. Especially since practically the first thing the writer does is hike up into the mountains and find a body.”

Nellie waited while their waitress—with another girlish blush for Victor—delivered their customary drinks, took their meal order since neither one of them needed to even look at the familiar menu, and then retreated.

She also waited while two passing customers, newly arrived, stopped to have a few words with Victor. Nellie knew that he enjoyed the social pleasantries but, even more, enjoyed the fact that people stopped to talk to him or waved to him across the room.

Somebody Special in Baron Hollow.

“It’s a nasty subject to discuss over dinner, I suppose,” she said when they were finally alone again, “but what do you think about that body?”

“I don’t think anything,” he replied, brows lifting. “At least, not unless and until Dan has an ID or some idea of how or why she was killed.”

“But you do think she was murdered.”

“I think it’s unlikely, but that seems to be the prevailing theory, since she was found without clothes or hiking equipment. Did Melissa tell you anything different?”

“No. But she did say they’d be lucky to get an ID.”

“Without a skull, very lucky.”

Nellie had wondered whether he knew about that, but wasn’t too surprised that he did. Word had gotten around. It always did.

She said, “Even with so little to work with, the medical examiner in Chapel Hill will eventually be able to give them an approximate height, weight, race, age—that sort of stuff. Maybe even cause of
death, if she was shot or stabbed or something else happened that could leave evidence on what bones they found. But without dental records or anything else to identify her…”

“She stays a Jane Doe.” He shrugged. “At least nobody we know is missing.”

“There’s that,” Nellie said.

“Yeah,” Victor said. “There is that.”

“WHY ISN’T SHE
answering her cell?” Navarro demanded, using his own to talk to his boss.

“I don’t know,” Maggie replied frankly. “We’ve tried pinging it, and get nothing. Either the battery is drained or it’s off. I’d be more alarmed by that, but her cell goes dead on a regular basis, and she frequently doesn’t notice it right away. Or even for days if she’s involved in something.”

“What about the GPS in her car?”

“The car’s parked at the inn. Wherever she is, she’s on foot or using some other wheels. Or horseback, I suppose.”

“This late? No, all the stables require the horses to be back well before dark, and they’re all accounted for. I checked.” He sighed. “She’s not supposed to be investigating anything here other than her past, right?”

“Those were her orders.” Maggie’s voice turned wry. “But Jessie has been known to…go off the reservation. Fairly often, as a matter of fact.”

“So if she stumbled across something more interesting, she’d start following a different trail?”

“
Probably.”

“Without reporting in?”

“It’s possible, Nathan. Maybe even likely. She has a way of…justifying her actions after the fact.”

“Now’s a fine time to tell me that.”

“Sorry. For what it’s worth, I really did believe that uncovering whatever it is that’s been blocking her abilities and causing her nightmares these last couple of years was the most important thing on her mind. And maybe it still is. Do you know for certain that she’s investigating possible murders?”

“No. She asked her sister if there had been any murders in the area—presumably after her encounter with the spirit—but as far as I know, she didn’t even exhibit much beyond normal interest in the remains I found.”

“Then maybe her absence has to do with exploring her past and nothing more than that.”

Navarro hesitated, then said bluntly, “Is she okay? Can you feel that?”

“Everything I feel tells me she’s fine,” Maggie replied. “Physically, at least.”

“So I shouldn’t worry.”

“I didn’t say that. We both know things can go south in a hurry, and with a likely killer operating in or around Baron Hollow…I don’t know. Can Emma shed any light?”

“I’m working on that,” Navarro answered, his gaze on Emma.

“Good luck. When you do see Jessie, tell her I said to call base, pronto. No excuses.” Her voice was as gentle as it always was, but Navarro heard the steel.

“
Copy that.”

“Don’t miss any of your own check-ins, okay? Remember, I worry.”

“I won’t forget.” He ended the call and returned his cell to its special case on his belt.

Emma immediately said, “So she thinks Jessie is okay? Even though it’s nearly ten at night and she hasn’t shown up yet?”

Navarro sat down in a chair across from hers. “Maggie forms a kind of bond with just about any operative who stays at the main compound, especially over time. A psychic connection. Jessie has lived there the last few years.”

“Okay. And so she can feel Jessie is okay?”

“Physically okay. Not in immediate danger. But part of the reason Jessie is here at all is because nobody could get a solid read on her, not Maggie, not even some of the more powerful telepaths. And that’s a bit unusual, especially for psychics without a lifetime of control or control training behind them.”

“She can read me,” Emma said, frowning. “In fact, she told me that my thoughts kept slipping through her walls even though she was making them stronger here. Because of all the spirits, I mean.”

Navarro frowned as well. “Is that the only reason she was making her walls stronger?”

“She said…it was protection. From negative energy. Said bad guys were as likely to be psychic as good guys, and that the first thing all of you were taught was how to protect yourselves.”

“True enough.”

“I don’t know if she felt threatened, if that was one reason she made her walls stronger. She’s just seemed…unsettled. Distracted.”

“And you don’t know why.”

“
It could be normal for her, as far as I know. I don’t know what’s been going on in her head. She’s been seeing spirits, here and all over town. Maybe some of them were bad or dangerous and she just didn’t want to tell me about it. Isn’t that reason enough?” Emma knew she sounded defensive, but couldn’t seem to control that.

“Sure,” he said mildly. But his eyes were intent, and they never left her face.

Emma and Navarro had the small sitting space that was one of the inn’s common areas to themselves, which wasn’t all that unusual so late at night. Some guests were out at one of the two restaurants that offered live music and late hours on Friday nights, but the majority of guests tended to retire to their rooms by now.

Emma was seated where she could watch the reception area and see if anyone came in, hoping to see Jessie, and her gaze kept turning that way even as she said, “How did you manage to survive being shot in the head?”

“It wasn’t a psychic bullet.”

She looked away from the reception area to stare at him, startled, then had to smile. “Sorry. I guess that question did sort of come out of nowhere.”

“So did the bullet.” He shrugged. “Classified mission, so no details about it, but I can tell you I was a courier with no reason to expect violence.”

“Is that why you got out of the navy?”

“Not because I was shot. My recovery was remarkably fast and easy, according to the doctors; the bullet literally did no damage even though it passed through an area of my brain.”

“You mean…from one side to the other?”

He indicated with his index finger a point several inches behind and slightly below his left ear. “Went in here.” Then he moved his finger to just above his left temple. “Came out here. My hair covers the scars.” He shrugged. “The docs said the bullet could have just skimmed over the skull and under the scalp; they’ve apparently seen that before. But this bullet cracked through my hard skull and actually traveled through the brain before coming out again.”

He had Emma’s full attention now. “How could it pass through your brain without damage?”

“The docs didn’t have an answer for that. At the very least, given the trajectory of the bullet, it should have damaged one or both of my optic nerves, affecting my eyesight, but it didn’t. Far as they could tell, it didn’t do any damage at all except for the entry and exit wounds. They had me in a medically induced coma because they expected my brain to swell, but it didn’t. When they brought me out, I was fine. No memory issues, no physical issues—nothing.”

“Until you discovered you were psychic?”

“Yeah.”

“How did that happen?”

Navarro shrugged. “It dawned on me, gradually, that I knew things I shouldn’t know. About people around me, about things that had happened. Small things, mostly. At first, I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I asked my doctor, who was kind enough not to either laugh at me or lock me away, but he just said the brain was a landscape largely unknown to medical science, and maybe that bullet had…sparked something in me.”

“That doesn’t sound like any doctor I’ve ever heard,” Emma said, thinking of her own doctor’s dismissal of her dreams.

“
Yeah, that struck me too. Then, a few days later, I got a visit from Special Agent Noah Bishop of the FBI’s Special Crimes Unit. He wanted to talk to me about being psychic and what it could mean.”

“How did he know? I mean, did he read somebody’s mind or something?”

“Simpler than that. I gather Bishop has spent years building a huge network of friends and allies all over the country, including some in the military and government, who simply notify him of little oddities like my bullet in the brain and subsequent medical report.”

“Your doctor? Violating privacy laws?”

“I’ll probably never know. But it seems most likely. In any case, Bishop’s agenda has always been clear: He’s looking for people with psychic ability. People suited for the work and open to being recruited. For his unit and for Haven.”

“So how did you end up in Haven? It sounds like you would have fit easily into the FBI.”

“Yeah, I’m qualified. But after so many years in the navy, I wanted a bit more freedom. Haven offered that, and the jobs have certainly been…varied. I like the travel and I like the long stretches off when I feel like I need to recharge.”

“So no roots?” She thought about her own, deeply set.

“I’m from a military family, Emma, and went in straight out of college; it’s the life I know. But I will admit that sometimes the idea of having a home rather than just a home base has its appeal.”

Emma felt the need to veer away from the personal. “So you found a job that allows you to use your abilities. What’s the other one called, by the way? Sensing things you aren’t supposed to know?”

“
Clairvoyance.”

“Are you picking up anything now?”

Without even thinking about it, Navarro replied, “There’s a honeymooning couple in the inn, doing what honeymooning couples usually do; your chef is having problems getting to know his new stove, so you might plan to send out for tomorrow morning’s pastries; that group of paranormal researchers—” He broke off with a frown.

“What?” Emma was unconsciously fascinated.

“Something off about them. Can’t quite pin it down. Anyway, they’re in their rooms going over paperwork. Or records. Historical stuff about the town.” He frowned again.

“What?” Emma repeated.