Chapter Sixteen
The DWO’sinterrogation room was set up like most others. People expected that when they were in trouble, and the familiarity of the boring room set them at ease. What they didn’t realize was how many more cameras the DWO had in place than the typical interrogation room. Bryce could use the monitors to check out Jesse’s biorhythms, but he only had one running that program.
Going in angry as hornets caught in a bag with a cat was not a good interrogation technique. Finding the interviewee sexy as hell even in sweatpants and a T-shirt just wasn’t fair. So, Bryce stayed in the observation room, leaving Jesse waiting on the other side of the mirror.
According to the readings, Jesse was calm. That was getting to Bryce as well. Jesse had seen alien creatures, thrust himself into an investigation, and nearly gotten killed, and yet he sat at the table about as concerned as if he was waiting in line at the grocery store.
Bonnell entered the observation room. “I take it that’s Jesse Dawes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bryce said.
“You can relax, Bryce. When I told you to be more careful, I didn’t mean you had to turn around and bring him in.”
“I went over there to see how he was.” Bryce picked up the thin black book he’d found at Jesse’s from the desk and handed it to Bonnell. “I found that on his coffee table. He wouldn’t tell me where he got it, but considering I didn’t see it last night, I think he stole it from Lawson’s. Meaning he had it on him when I let him go this morning.”
Bonnell opened the journal and flipped through a few pages. With a shudder, she shut it. “This definitely reeks of psychic resonance. I’ll call in Dr. Pak for an eval. He may be under the effect of whatever is causing Lawson’s mania.”
Bryce folded his arms over his chest. If Jesse was unstable, Bryce wanted him to get the help he needed, but Jesse didn’t seem anything like Lawson. “I think Jesse has a different connection to our work.”
“He wants to be an agent,” Bonnell said. “Celia agrees with what you said, that his connection is personal. I should have realized the old man would have found some way to secure a legacy.”
“The old man?” Bryce asked. “Did you know Jesse’s uncle?”
Bonnell smiled wistfully. “Ephraim was… a handful. I was still a rookie when he moved back East, but stories of him and the old days were still passed around more often than they are now. Even in his seventies, Ephraim couldn’t stop flagging potential cases and sending them our way—and finding some way to get involved if we weren’t moving fast enough. I swear, he was the Jessica Fletcher of St. Louis. That man knew how to get information out of people. If my predecessor had known about the journals, he would have gone through Ephraim’s estate with a fine-tooth comb.”
“He was in Boston’s jurisdiction,” Bryce said.
“Yeah, but he was always ours.” Bonnell sighed and handed the slim book back to Bryce. “Let’s see what Dawes knows.”
Bryce set the book down on the desk. He was reluctant to follow her into the room, but she left the door wide open for him. He went in, and leaned against the wall beside the door.
“You must be Bonnell,” Jesse said.
Bonnell took a seat opposite him. “I am. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Agent Dawes.”
“That I’m a perfect prospect for recruitment?” Jesse asked.
“That you’ve been interrupting investigations and pilfering evidence,” Bonnell replied.
“Grabbing that statue from Alex was a good interruption,” Jesse returned. “He needed someone to do it, and Bryce was just standing there.”
Just standing there.Bryce had been trying to think, trying to find a way to help Alex while shielding Jesse. He tightened his arms over his chest. A cold, sick realization was forming, and he hated that he was so suspicious, but it gnawed at his guts and made his heart rock hard.
“Because Bryce is trained to deal with Alex. You don’t know what kind of damage you could have caused, and you didn’t walk away unscathed,” Bonnell said.
“Because the information needed isn’t accessible. The DWO, who has the most data and training on these phenomena, decides to stay in the dark,” Jesse replied.
“Out of necessity,” Bonnell said.
“Don’t feed me that ‘we don’t know what the public would do with the information’ bullshit.” Jesse huffed.
Bryce had heard people discuss the DWO with that kind of fervor before. Jesse believed in what he was doing, believed in his cause over anything else. Out of the whole world, he probably valued those journals his uncle left him—journals that couldn’t be pleasant reading if they were anything like Bryce’s crisis-to-crisis life—more than anything else. More than Bryce.
That was an emotional punch to the gut Bryce didn’t need after a long day. But the more the thought worked its way into him, the more he knew it was right.
“I’m sure Ephraim wrote some fantastic stories that sound more like adventure novels than actual cases,” Bonnell said.
Jesse crossed his arms. “It’s not like that.”
