He hardened his expression and punched out his words. “First, let’s get some things straight. You’ve already found out that Smith is totally ruthless. He kidnapped, tortured, and killed an innocent man. To make sure nobody goes after him, he has operatives watching his victim’s boat and also his residence. If you want my help, you have to promise me that you’re not going to do any more investigating on your own. I mean, you don’t want to end up in Smith’s torture chamber, being asked to explain how you know anything about Travis Carson, do you?”
He was glad to see a flash of fear cross her face as reality set in.
“I guess not.”
“You guess? If I wasn’t clear before, I’ll say it again. Stay away from the guy and let me do my job.”
He started to stand, but his legs buckled, and he landed back on the couch. So much for the hard-ass detective who was going to take over from the amateurs. Currently, he didn’t have the strength to get up.
Olivia gave him an apologetic look. “It looks like that thunderbolt has aftereffects.” She shook her head. “We were just starting to practice it, and we didn’t know what it would do.”
“Maybe I’m lucky you were just getting into it.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “Okay, I’m going to see how much work I can get done here. Bring me my laptop from the car.”
“I could lend you a laptop.”
“No. I’ve got access to databases you don’t. The car is parked in a little turnoff along the road. Turn left when you get to the end of your driveway.” He fumbled in his pocket for the key and handed it to her.
“Do you need anything? More water?”
“That would be good, but get the laptop first.”
When she left the room, he turned his head to the other end of the sofa where she’d said Travis was sitting. “Are you still here?”
Nobody answered, but the piece of paper on the table moved a little as though it had been ruffled by a sudden gust of wind.
“Do me a favor and clear out. I don’t like the feeling of someone watching over my shoulder while I work.”
There was no audible reply, but he hoped the ghost was considerate enough to respect his wishes.
The ghost. He was thinking of Travis Carson as “the ghost.”
He thought again that Olivia Langston had run into the right detective down at the dock. How many people would be willing to accept her ghost explanation? He had an advantage because of his friends at Decorah Security. Hell, some of them were werewolves. And one, Hunter Kelley, had even been the victim of a rogue government experiment. He hadn’t even had a name until Katherine Kelley had been hired to socialize him because he was a clone being raised for a suicide mission, and the men training him didn’t want to think of him as a human being. To them, he’d just been a tool until she’d rescued him.
So Gabe understood about illegal, overreaching government projects. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the sofa back. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall asleep. Probably he did, because the next thing he remembered was Olivia putting down his glass of water on the table.
When his eyes snapped open, she handed him the laptop and turned to leave. Maybe the ghost had told her Gabe wanted to be alone.
“Thanks.” He drank some of the water and set the glass down before picking up the laptop. Then he got into one of the databases he’d told her about. It had information on under-the-table government projects. He found nothing in them on the Solomon Clinic, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. But he was also able to search local newspaper articles.
There was one about Dr. Douglas Solomon opening his clinic in Houma, Louisiana, a little over thirty years ago. Then there wasn’t anything about it until the story of the fire that destroyed the property. Because it occurred at night, no one had been hurt. All that squared with what Olivia had told him. The local fire inspector had given the cause as a gas leak.
That might have been the end of the story, but as Olivia had suggested, the doctor didn’t shut off his activities with the destruction of his clinic. He’d kept working at a lab built on the property owned by one of his former nurses. Both of them died whenthatfacility blew up in an explosion just a year earlier. Gabe wondered what the guy had been fooling with when his second facility went up.
But reading about the fire and the explosion wasn’t going to get him any closer to locating Smith.
He looked around the room, then said aloud, “Carson, I know I told you to leave, but I’m wondering if you could give me some help.”
Again, the paper on the table lifted, making the hair on the back of Gabe’s neck prickle.
“Maybe I can ask you some questions,” Gabe went on. He looked at the paper that had moved of its own accord. “How about you make the paper flutter twice for yes and once for no?”
He held his breath until he saw the paper lift before settling back on the table.
“Okay. Do you think there’s anything in your house that would help me find Smith?”
The paper lifted once before settling again.
“And on the boat?”
