The colonel shrugged. “We work for the government, Detective Connolly. We have access to their databases. Your appointment came up, and we thought it would be a good time to catch you before you return to work.”
“Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?”
He shrugged again. “We believe some situations override the privacy of the individual.”
“Are you antiterrorist?” She glanced at him sharply. They were the only people she knew who had those sorts of powers. Could her case be involved with terrorism in some way? She was unable to see a connection, but at this point, she was willing to take any leads.
“In a way. But not exactly in the sense you mean.”
“Let’s all be as cryptic as shit,” she muttered. “Why don’t you guys get to the point? What is it you want? Because I’m presuming you want something.”
“At the moment, to talk to you. We thought it might be best to make our first approach away from the office.”
First approach? Sounded like they were going to make this a regular thing. She glanced at the priest—not if she had any say in the matter. On the other hand, she couldn’t deny a certain amount of curiosity. She spotted a coffee shop across the street from where they stood. “You can buy me a coffee, and I’ll give you ten minutes.”
The colonel followed her gaze. “We were thinking of somewhere a little more private.”
“You can talk quietly. And I need coffee.”
She’d been told no food and drink before the tests. Now she was feeling the distinct absence of caffeine in her system. But it wasn’t only that. Something about these guys put her on edge, despite one of them being a priest. In fact, if it wasn’t for the dog collar, she would never have placed him as a religious type. More likely another soldier. He had that alertness and way of moving. No way did she want to go anywhere alone with them until she knew who they were and what they wanted.
In the café, they found a booth along the back wall, which afforded them a little privacy. It was self-service and Faith sat herself on the padded seat opposite Father O’Brien while the colonel went to get the coffee. Neither of them spoke and Faith played with the sachets of sugar while she waited. She tried to ignore the way he studied her with his dark eyes as though he could see into her soul. Except she didn’t have a soul to see into.
The uncomfortable silence was only broken by the colonel’s return. He carried a tray, with not only drinks but also a toasted-cheese-and-bacon sandwich. Her favorite. A shudder of unease ran through her. Maybe coincidence—but she didn’t believe in coincidences.
“Do you know everything?” she asked.
“Not everything.” The colonel flashed her a slight smile. “We’re hoping you can fill in some of the blanks.”
She took a sip of coffee and a bite of the sandwich and sighed. “Okay. So shoot.”
But it was the priest who spoke first. “I believe you’re a Catholic, Detective?”
The question took her by surprise. Though maybe it shouldn’t have considering the man asking. “I was born a Catholic, but no, I’m not a Catholic now.”
“Perhaps, we’ll leave the religious aspect out of this for the moment,” the colonel said, the smile still playing across his lips. He was a handsome man in a stern older-guy sort of way. “We work for a division of the government that concerns itself with things of a…less than normal nature.”
Shit, she knew where this was going. Swallowing her coffee, she put down the mug and placed her hands flat on the table, ready to push herself up.
“Don’t go without hearing us out on this, detective. At least afford us that.”
Faith sighed but relaxed her muscles. “Look,” she said. “If you’ve had me investigated, you must know what I think of all that crap.”
He considered her for a minute. “So how is your current case coming along?”
She pursed her lips at the change of subject, then realized it wasn’t a change at all. Just more of the same. “If you’re going to tell me that Julie was murdered by ghosties or ghoulies, you’ll have to get in line. I’ve heard it all before, and I’m not buying it. She was killed by some weird fucker who’d had his brain twisted by all the crap on the TV.”
“Like your mother?”
Shock hit her in the gut, and she gritted her teeth while she forced her emotions back under control. But of course they would know about her mother. They knew her goddamn favorite food.
The colonel didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well because he wasn’t getting one. “Not ghosties and ghoulies, Detective. But vampires. And what if I told you we have evidence?”
The word “vampires” seemed to hang in the air, and a flash of primordial fear shivered through her. But before it could take hold, a wall rose up in her mind, familiar, calming, and her panic receded. “I’d say show me this evidence, but it had better be good.”
“It’s good and we will, but not here.”
“Are you going to get to the point anytime soon?”