“I have some information that can help you.”
“Like what?” Jake asked.
“I’d rather not discuss it over the phone.”
Jake’s grip tightened on the cell. “You need to be a little more specific.”
“About your background.”
“That covers a pretty wide area. Give me a hint,” Jake said, trying not to sound impatient. He had never met this guy, but he picked up on a strong feeling of dislike.
The man laughed. “Okay. You been having any mental changes recently?”
“Maybe.”
“I can tell you some stuff about it. But we got to meet in person.”
“Where are you?”
“In New Orleans.”
“Do you know the city?”
The man hesitated. “Not so much.”
“Okay. There’s a warehouse on Burgundy Street.” He gave the address. “I’ll meet you there at seven.”
Before the guy could ask any questions, Jake hung up and sat there, staring through the windshield.
“Who was he, do you think?”
Rachel’s question broke into his thoughts. “You heard all that?”
“Yes.”
Jake shrugged and looked at her. “Did you pick up anything from him?”
Her brow wrinkled. “It was more what I didn’t pick up. I mean, it was like there was a wall between us and him.”
Jake nodded. “It came across that way to me, too. There was something . . . dishonest about him.”
“Like he was trying to hide his real intentions.”
“Yeah.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Meet him.”
“That might be dangerous,” she pointed out.
“Do we have any choice?” Jake asked. “We’re trying to get information, and he may have some. I mean he mentioned ‘mental changes.’ Maybe he knows what kind of experiments they were doing at that clinic. And he doesn’t want to talk about it over the phone. Not after what happened to Evelyn Morgan.”
“That could be right.”
“I’ll stash you somewhere safe and keep the appointment.”
Jake felt Rachel’s fingers digging into his arm. “No way are you leaving me hiding some place while you go off and do something dangerous.”
