Coit Tower
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but the parking lot is closed,"Officer Chang explained for
the umteenth time that morning.
"But this is our last day in San Francisco," the woman said crossly.
"If you can find a place to park, the tower is open, but only by the west steps,"
Chang said. "When is Castro going to send our relief?" he asked his partner as the
exasperated woman turned her white minivan around. "This is starting to get to me."
At that moment a black UV turned the corner headed in their direction. "Here
we go again," said his companion.
The driver braked to a stop and rolled down his window. Chang leaned into the
open window. He recognized the passenger, whom he had seen him a couple of weeks
before at the station with Carmack. He had been wearing that same brown leather
jacket.
"Hi, I'm Nick Boyle," said the driver, "and this is Dr. Rayne from the Luna
Foundation. Frank Carmack called and asked us to meet him up in the parking lot."
From the top of the curve, Sergeant Castro waved and yelled, "It's OK, guys!"
Officer Williams pulled the yellow tape aside and gestured for Nick to drive on
through. Afterwards, he asked Chang, "Who are they? Specialists, or something?"
"Or something," he replied hesitantly. "Rayne's a friend of Carmack's... owns
most of that island off Tiburon... rumor has it that he's psychic."
"You're kidding," Williams said in a voice filled with disbelief.
"No," Chang said. "I've heard from a number of sources that he's the real thing,
too." Then he chuckled, "Maybe that's how he got all that money the Luna Foundation
gives away."
Williams' curiosity was unsatisfied. "Who's the other guy?"
"Haven't a clue."
<< + >>
Los Angeles Legacy House
Amanda felt as though she was being sucked into a whirlpool of blackness.
Round and round she spun until she didn't know up from down nor left from right.
Nausea swept through her entire being. Suddenly there were voices, distraught voices,
male and female that she didn't recognize. "It's no good.... We've lost him.... No!
Keep going!" She felt breath being forced into her lungs... blood being pumped through
her heart and brain.
Just as abruptly, she endured the sensation of being catapulted from the whirling
blackness. She awoke with a start, unsure of what she had experienced. For some
reason she felt an anxiety that neared panic. She didn't know the voices nor had she
seen anyone or anything, yet she felt certain that the premonition... if that is what it
was... somehow involved Derek Rayne.
She paced the breadth of her office. Usually, her episodes were more distinct.
She had to clarify the impression before she said anything, but how? She wasn't like
Derek. She couldn't induce a vision without being in physical contact with the source.
She had to find a focus, and she could think of only one place, much as she disliked
the idea. Amanda pulled her boots back on, scrawled a note, and grabbed her purse
and keys.
<< + >>
San Francisco
Shortly after he had talked to Derek, Frank had urged Maria's family to
accompany the victim counselor to the police station, where they could look at mug
books and work with a police artist. From experience, he knew it would help them to
feel as though they were doing something to help the little girl. Besides, he didn't want
them present, with all of their emotions, when Derek arrived.
He had paced a dozen rings around old Columbus, whose statue stood before
the tower. Finally, he glanced across the bay... a beacon shone from Angel Island... he
knew it had to be sunlight sparking from a window in the Rayne Mansion. He looked
for the ferry or the launch. Derek was taking his time. But then he reasoned, at this
time of day even the short drive from the piers could take a while. When he finally saw
Derek's car pull into the parking lot, he let out a sigh and walked over as Nick parked.
"Thanks for coming, Derek," he said, opening the car's door. "You heard about
it on the radio?" he asked.
Derek nodded.
"Hi, Nick... I'd like you both to meet Joe Castro," he said, gesturing toward the
bullish detective who had followed their car up the driveway. "Joe... this is Derek
Rayne and Nick Boyle."
"Pleased to meet you," Castro said as they shook hands. He noted the toughness
in the smaller man, and the SEAL ring on his finger... not a man you'd like to meet in
a bar fight. Then he sized up Carmack's friend, Rayne... though nothing in his
appearance hinted, one glance told Castro "old money."
"Joe... can you run down and clear everyone out for a few minutes?" Carmack
instructed. Once Castro was out of earshot, he continued, "Derek, anything you can
give me would help." He led the way down the stairs. "We've got no leads and every
minute counts." After giving them a brief tour and explaining what he believed had
happened, Frank ushered them through the side door to the stairs that led to the second
floor. "The girl's room is at the end of the hall... the other rooms belong to her brothers
and the parents."
Derek grasped the railing, climbing slowly, tiredly, trying to gather strength and
focus. The floor creaked beneath the carpet. Knowing that he needed the solitude, his
friends let him go ahead. From the base of the stairs, Nick gazed up at his precept's
back and suddenly realized that he didn't recognize the person before him. The Derek
Rayne he knew would be ascending with a brisk, ramrod step, eager to meet the
Legacy's new challenge. Instead, he saw a tired old man with sagging shoulders and
arthritic joints reach the landing and hesitate before Maria's door. The sight jarred
Nick to the spine.
When Derek entered the girl's room, he was struck by how much it reminded
him of Ingrid's as a child back in Amsterdam, or of Kat's. There were stuffed toys,
bears and a unicorn on the bed, a Barbie collection and plastic horses lined the shelves
of a small bookcase, while the books, third grade textbooks and oversized storybooks
cluttered the floor beside the window seat. Lace curtains were pulled back with big
yellow bows. Several tropical fish and a sea horse swam in a small aquarium. Derek
knew from Kat that the figurine seated in the sand was Ariel, the Little Mermaid. He
grasped the white post of the bedstead and centered his concentration on the little, red-haired statue.
Nick, standing at the open door, watched his precept's back stiffen. He dropped
his car keys in the pocket of his fatigue jacket and softly took a step closer. Behind
him, Frank Carmack looked on. He had never actually seen Derek in the midst of a
vision... he found it interesting, but disconcerting at the same time. They saw Derek's
knuckles go white from the grip he had on the bed post. He began to tremble slightly,
jarring the bed against the wood floor.
"It's cold," Derek said, his voice hoarse with strain. "She's so scared...
something familiar about the man... his smell... maybe... from school? Her hands and
feet are taped and numb." He sighed deeply, as if he couldn't get enough breath.
"She's in the trunk of a car... the jack is hurting her back... exhaust fumes are making
her sick.
"No!" he cried. He was losing the focus... other sensations were intruding...
flames... pieces of last night's dream... swirling colors... monstrous faces crowding out
all vision. His ears hummed with a wailing dissonance. His senses reeled as he took
deep, ragged breaths and grasped the threads of his sight.
Frank started to step past Nick, but Nick stretched out his arm to hold the
detective back. "Don't," he said. Experience told him that this was a strong vision.
The precept found the strand again. "Can't breathe," he gasped. Nick and Frank
could no longer tell Derek's vision from Derek's reality. "Something soft taped in
mouth... choking... pillowcase over head... taped around neck... the car is moving...
near the water... gulls... a ship's horn... a car horn... slowing... stopping... voices...."
Derek's knees buckled and, as he started to crumple, he lost his grip on the bed
post. Nick caught him and with Carmack's help, shifted Derek's fall toward the bed.
Gently he rolled the precept onto his back and shook him.
"Derek," he called.
Frank disappeared toward the bathroom and returned a moment later with a
damp washcloth and a glass of water. "Should I call the paramedics?" he asked with
concern.
"No, not yet," Nick replied, wiping his friend's face with the wet cloth. "Derek,"
he whispered. "Derek!"
"Does this happen a lot?" the inspector asked. He hadn't realized what a toll
Derek's "gift" was capable of taking.
"Occasionally," said Nick. Though the older man was pale, Nick had noticed
that his face felt warm to the touch. "He's got a fever," he explained. "He's been
fighting the flu for weeks now."
"I wish I'd known... I wouldn't have asked...."
Nick interrupted, "You know Derek would want you to... no matter what."
After what seemed like a very long time, both men were relieved to hear their
friend moan as he came around. Derek tried to push himself up, but Nick put a hand
on his shoulder and said, "Don't sit up yet... you blacked out." He could see Derek's
eyes refocus as he got his bearings. Finally, when the precept seemed to be fully with
them again, Nick slipped an arm under his shoulders and helped him sit up. "You
OK?" he asked.
Derek went even whiter than before. He leaned forward to put his head between
his knees. "Oh, my Got," he groaned, placing his hands over his eyes.
Inspector Carmack knelt down in front of him. "Here... here's some water," he
offered. "Are you all right? Do you need the paramedics?"
"I'm OK," the psychic replied weakly. "I'm not sure how reliable that was... a
dream I've been having intruded." He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and
searched the vision. "I think they just went through a toll booth on one of the bridges."
Carmack excitedly pulled out the walkie-talkie he had clipped to his belt.
"Dispatch... this is Carmack," he said urgently. "Cover all the bridges... Maria Fanucci
is in the trunk of a car that just went through a toll booth."
"Lay here a minute," said Nick. "I'll go get the car and bring it around to the
bottom of the stairs."
"I'll stay with him, Nick," Frank said.
The former SEAL hurried out of the house and ran back up the steps to the top of
Telegraph Hill. Once in the car and started down the winding street, he called Alex
on the car phone. Though a bit out of breath, he quickly filled her in and added, "Call
Rachel... and see if you can get a hold of Philip... yes, Philip.... We need to talk about
this."
<< + >>
Angel Island
The drive to the pier, and even the ferry crossing, was made in total silence.
Finally, when Nick stopped the car at the castle's back door and switched off the
engine, he turned to Derek and said flatly, "What's going on?"
"It's just this flu hanging on."
"I think you should cancel out of that seminar tomorrow and postpone LA."
"No... I'll be fine," the precept insisted. "I'm not going to let this damned bug win."
Nick stared at his friend and asked with all the blunt sincerity he could muster,
"...and what if it's not just a bug?"
