Page 97 of It takes a Psychic

“Right. So the Feds are looking for someone who was in both places. That should narrow down the list of suspects.”

Leona thought about that. “Well, they’ve got a town full of suspects, but it’s hard to see any of those people in Lost Creek as a good fit for the role of mastermind killer juggler.”

“The juggler was there, and by now they will be seriously pissed and very, very frustrated.”

Oliver sounded pleased. Satisfied.

“How is that helpful?” she asked.

“Rage and frustration are massively destabilizing emotions, even if your profile is strong and stable. Emotions like that cause people to make mistakes. That’s a good thing as far as law enforcement is concerned. Trust me, it’s just a matter of time before the Feds make an arrest.”

“You know, there was one person we never met in Lost Creek who was always there in the background,” Leona mused. “Margo Gibbs, the owner of the local rez-screen station. Everyone said she drank, but—”

“But that makes for a good cover. I agree. I also think the Bureau will take a close look at Thacker. He knew more about Vance’s connection to Lost Creek than anyone else, and he was obsessed with the history.”

“I don’t know,” Leona said. “He seemed genuinely happy that Vance hadn’t emerged from the Vortex machine.”

“Who knows how he really felt? He’s weird, even for a collector.”

“What about the waitress at the diner? Or the bartender, for that matter? Harp? Edith Fenwick? Burt?” Leona groaned and rested her head against the back of the sofa. “Forget it. Everyone in town is a suspect, except maybe Starkey.”

“Huh. That’s a thought.”

“No, I can’t imagine Starkey is our master juggler.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. She looked at the specter-cat on the coffee table. “But I’m too tired to think logically tonight.”

“So am I.” Oliver finished his wine and leaned forward to set the empty glass on the table. “I should go back to my apartment and get some sleep.”

There was a short silence. Leona knew the next move was up to her. She reminded herself that she was falling in love with a man who did not know all of her secrets. That was not smart. More importantly, it was not fair to him. After what they had been through, she owed him the truth, even if it meant the end of their relationship.

“You’re welcome to stay here,” she said.

He turned his head to look at her. His eyes burned, this time with the kind of heat that set fire to her senses.

“I’d like that,” he said.

“But there’s something you should know before you make the decision. There’s a reason why I was obsessed with the pyramid crystal.”

“Is this where you tell me that you think you and your sister have a history that involves getting dosed with Vortex radiation and that’s why you think you’re triples?”

She stilled. “You know?”

He shrugged. “Not the details, but it wasn’t hard to put the big picture together.”

“I don’t think you understand.”

“I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath. “Molly and I are the results of Vortex-type experiments that were conducted on our birth mothers. They were both pregnant and single. Alone in the world. Nigel Willard tricked them into taking jobs in his lab. He irradiated them with yellow crystals without their knowledge. Claimed it was a lab accident. And then he injected them with a serum that he told them would protect them against any ill effects of the radiation.”

“But in reality, Willard was attempting to enhance the para-profiles of the babies?”

She swallowed hard. “Well, yes. That’s pretty much it. Our birth mothers escaped and left their infants on the doorstep of the Inskip orphanage. But Willard tracked down both women and murdered them. He found Molly and me, too, but he left us at the orphanage to be raised.”

“While he monitored you from afar? Is that it?”

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