“What’s A.D.E.P.T.?” I asked either Laura or Blood. For the first time, they said the name of their super duper, triple secret spy outfit.
“It stands for Allied Defense of Existing or Emerging Paranormal Technologies,” Blood said as he drove into the night.
“So wouldn’t that be A.D.E.E.P.T.?” Laura gave me the stink eye.
“‘Existing’ and ‘Emerging’ are interchangeable or optional. The point is, we’re in existence partly to prevent certain research and development like our grandfather’s work from being perverted and exploited.”
“And our job isn’t just chasing ghosts around and keeping them from being exploited,” Blood added. “It’s also our job to keep psychic research from falling into the wrong hands.”
“Ghosts and psychics,” I said under my breath. “Man, you guys must have some real interesting office Christmas parties.”
“Are you sure you didn’t recognize any of the ghosts at the Ritz Carlton, Adam?” Blood had already grilled me twice with that question and I was already beginning to regret using that as a decoy tactic to divert attention away from Coffey. I think that Blood was hoping some of them were from that massive clusterfuck on Halloween and that some of them told me what went down that night.
“No, dude, I already told you. I never saw ‘em in my life. Most of the ones I see are strangers, to begin with.”
“I was wondering if they were Congressman and Mrs. Feingold or anyone else from the party. A lot of ‘em were famous people. I was hopin’ you’d recognize some of them or if they spoke to you about what happened.”
“Naw, sorry, dude. Nuthin’ like that. They were, like, just random.”
I looked over at Laura and she looked back at me real sketchy, like she didn’t know whether or not I was bullshitting her. Remember, I said earlier that it’s almost impossible for even an accomplished liar like me to fool her.
I fought wicked hard not to look out the rear windshield to see if Coffey was following us. But somehow I knew he was.
In nine years as a patrol cop and seven as a homicide detective, I don’t recall ever having to tail someone. At the academy, they taught us pursuit and evasive maneuvers but not how to tail a suspect during a low speed pursuit. Homicide dicks generally don’t work undercover like the Serpico wannabes in Narcotics so discretion’s not among our strong suits. And I’m definitely no exception.
Lucky for me this Oliver Blood character rented just about the most conspicuous fucking SUV in the Western Hemisphere. I was pretty sure he’d arrived alone at Logan airport but by renting a Lincoln Navigator, it was almost as if he was planning on taking back with him the entire defensive squad of the New England Patriots. Earlier on, I ran the plates through the RMV and got it confirmed that it was rented to an Oliver R. Blood at the Hertz rental counter at Logan three days ago and paid for with a government-issued credit card.
That’s right. The arrogant prick actually used his own name right down to the middle initial. What intelligence agency head does that and how many others would be this hands-on about it?
Once they boarded their plane, however, I had no fucking idea how I was going to get on without being seen by Blood or the Moss girl, especially if Blood took a smaller private jet. I had even less of a plan for sneaking into their headquarters even if I could follow them that far.
“Goddamned 30 cylinder piece of shit. Passes everything but a Goddamned gas station,” Oliver Blood muttered as he flicked the plexiglassed fuel gauge with his thick index finger even though it was an LED readout.
They still had miles to go but Blood just noticed the computer telling him he had only about thirty miles of gas at their present rate of consumption. It was half-full when he rented it therefore he had to return it half-full. The new DNI’s bean counters and hatchet men were all over him every month as it was for his agency’s discretionary spending.
“We have to get gas?” Laura asked as she leaned toward the front seat.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on stopping. ‘S my fault. I shoulda checked the damned gauge.”
Blood drove deeper into the night until he lowered his head and noted an exit sign indicating gas stations, restaurants and a motel. Within minutes he turned off the highway.
The Lincoln got in the breakdown lane and the right directional began blinking just shy of the exit. I thought I’d been made, even though I stayed 2-3 car lengths behind. They may’ve been trying to shake me off it could’ve simply been that Blood had to get gas before returning the rental. Then again, anyone who’s ever seen a bad cop or spy movie knows the best way to flush out a tail is to take an exit or make a long series of turns in secluded areas. More often than not, it’ll remove what few cars that remain between you and your tail. Luckily, a guy in a fat-ass Ford S-series pickup ahead of me kept himself between Blood’s Navigator and me. Plus, the sign back on the highway promised gas and other services.
The whole time I was with my sister and Blood, I tried to scope out things in the rear view mirror. But when Blood began turning on that exit ramp, whoever was behind us couldn’t be seen because we were turning. So I had no clue if Coffey was behind us.
During the trip from the hotel I started freaking myself out over what Laura and her boss both told me and didn’t tell me. They hadn’t come out to tell me about the adepts, the others like me that they wanted me to meet. That shit I had to find out with the playback from the digital audio recorder that Ramon got me for my birthday.
That alone put me in a really crappy position. I knew I couldn’t trust Blood as far as I could throw my high school. What made me feel lower than mole shit was not being able to trust my own sister. We might not always have been cool to each other growing up but I never had any reason to distrust her. With this new bullshit since the accident, since Clarissa died, all that’s changed.
Hell, I wasn’t even 100% sure if I could trust that Coffey cop. For all I knew, maybe he was just using me to solve his own case but I never really believed that. If I didn’t actually trust him with my own life, I felt like I could, you know? It was easy for even a kid like me to see that he was a Dad, probably someone with a kid my own age. And he would look at me sometimes like my real Dad does during cool moments when we aren’t wising off to each other.
All the same, while I trusted Coffey more than my own sister, it was pretty obvious that they weren’t giving me the full four one one. Even though I asked both Coffey and Laura how those people got croaked on Halloween, they either told me that I didn’t wanna know and that it was best I didn’t or that that some of those hoity toity types jumped.
Well, yeah. A lot of them got squashed on the sidewalk. The news kept telling me that but what no one was telling me was why they jumped. I mean, it’s not every day that a bunch of rich fucks decide to go urban sky diving without parachutes.
But considering that Laura’s secret agent pals took my parents and me into protective custody and what had just gone down at the Christiansons’ house, it obviously wasn’t anything routine like a serial killer or terrorists.
Basically, the so-called grownups were keeping little Adam in the dark and that fucking pissed me off to no end. I’m 18, now, and I’ll be out of high school in 6 months. I think I’m old enough to handle the truth. After all, I saw the ghost of a Nazi doctor off two people and their dead daughters, to boot. How do I know that he wasn’t involved in the Halloween massacre?
Blood pulled into a Mobil station and got out when he realized that no gas attendant was coming out. He slipped a card in and out of the pump and started gassing up. I took a chance and looked at both the rear and side view mirrors and saw Coffey stop next to a car vacuum machine about 50 feet behind us.
“Laura, can you get me an ice coffee? I don’t have any money.”
“Can’t you wait? We’ll be on the plane soon. It’s a private jet.”
“C’mon, Sis, that’ll take hours. ‘Sides, I gotta pee like a racehorse. And we’re here, already.”
She looked at the store on our right then at Oliver, who still hadn’t even pumped five bucks.
“My boss gave me explicit instructions not to leave you alone for even a nanosecond.”
“He’s fuckin’ right out there! ‘Sides, where am I gonna run to? You guys are all I got for protection and transportation.” For extra credit, I even squirmed and grabbed my crotch. “Laura, don’t you remember what happened about six years ago when Mom and Dad took us to the Cape?”
Her eyes got wide then narrowed as she grimly nodded her head. I was still 12 and couldn’t hold it in. By the time we got to the Sagamore Bridge, I’d started peeing in my pants. Dad couldn’t just stop on the bridge and the only container we had was the empty liter Pepsi bottle that caused the crisis. In a panic, Laura reached down and threw the bottle at me and looked real hard out her window as I began peeing into it.
But the worst part was when I forgot to vent the opening and the backed-up air pressure made my piss spray out all over the car. Poor Laura, Dad and I got a golden shower and I even got the back of my Mom’s hair.
I raised my eyebrows at Laura and she looked around the interior of this nice, clean SUV then back out at Oliver.
“Are you sure you can’t wait to get back to Logan?”
“You really haven’t learned much from the government about water and air displacement, have you?” I grabbed my dick again.
“Alright, alright. Just stop touching yourself down there.” She opened the passenger side back door and said, “You know I love you, Bro, but there’s always going to be a grossness factor with you.”
“Thank you, Big Sister,” I said as I slid out.
“Oliver, Adam’s gotta use the bathroom.” We heard the nozzle stop and Blood came out from behind the SUV.
“Are you gonna go in with him?” he asked in a real smart-assed way.
“Well, obviously not, sir.”
“Then you’ll wait until I’m done here,” he said to us. I looked at Laura as I did a little Irish jig. Man, even taking a piss with these guys is like planning fucking D Day. Now I know what Congressman Feingold meant when he told me one time that our government moves more slowly than molasses running uphill in January.
“Uh, sir, trust me. That’s not a good idea. My kid brother’s got a bladder the size of a ping pong ball.” I nodded at Blood for emphasis.
“Well, I can’t go in with him. I gotta do this. Unless you want to trade,” he said gesturing at the pump.
“Shit, I think I just spritzed a little in my pants…”
“Damnit, hurry up!” I could tell his patience with me was wearing thin. Coffey, like I already said, was a Dad. Blood? No way. Never was, never will be. He doesn’t have the blood pressure for it, pardon the pun.
“Wait here. I’ll get the key.”
“No, it’s open. I just saw someone walk out and they didn’t have a key.” I started jogging to the bathroom.
“You better be out before me. I don’t care how full your bladder is.”
I got to the bathroom door just as Laura went into the store then at Blood. He peeked out from behind the Navigator and I stepped into the bathroom for just a minute. Then I stuck my head out and looked right at Coffey then at the Lincoln. Blood went back to what he was doing. I took a step toward Coffey’s car then remembered leaving something in the back seat of the SUV. And no fuckin’ way was I taking off without it.
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