Vintage video games filled the sidewall. No exercise equipment. I panned around the room. A food counter ran the length of the SSA, and a little girl sat at one of the stools with her back to me. I could put two and two together with the best of them. Mason was in the building. Scallion had just joined him. A little girl had been kidnapped and LaReau was awaiting delivery. Coincidence? Psi Fighters know that there is no such thing.
Behind the counter, an old fashioned jukebox blasted the same hard music I had heard when I was in the other room with Mason. At the end of the counter, another door. It was closed. Had to be the one that led to the back room where Scallion waited. I panned back to the little girl, and noticed that the top of the food counter was mirrored. My hunch was confirmed. Christie Jasmine’s reflection stared up at me.
Christie was trembling. Her skin was nauseatingly pale. She seemed to be talking to the mirror, but I couldn’t hear her over the noise of the jukebox. “Pinpoint,” I said into my mask. “Isolate.” My mask’s sound filters focused on Christie, and her words nearly broke my heart.
“…please, God, please bring me home. Don’t let him sell me.”
Sell her? What kind of psycho sells children? Then I remembered that Andy said LaReau was into human trafficking. Christie was Scallion’s delivery. And Mason was helping. Anger burned in my chest as I searched desperately for a plan. Suddenly, the arcade door opened and the man in the trench coat entered the SSA. He closed the door and flipped the deadbolts, locking it behind him. Then he slithered onto an empty stool next to Christie. She tried to squirm away from him, but he snaked his arm around her, forcing her back onto the stool. I glared down at him, wishing I could reach through the hole, rip off his arm, and beat him over the head with the bloody stump. He removed his hat, and turned to talk to her. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw his face.
Dr. Captious.
The clues leading up to this suddenly made perfect sense. Scallion worked for Nicolaitan, but LaReau thought Scallion worked for him. Christie Jasmine was the “gift” that Scallion told LaReau about in the memory I absorbed. And the SSA was Scallion’s distribution center, compliments of Mason. With or without Tammy Angel’s knowledge, I couldn’t tell.
That meant Scallion, not LaReau, took Christie Jasmine. Even though I had let LaReau escape, I saved another little girl from becoming his next victim that night. That mission wasn’t a total failure after all.
So where did Captious fit in? Mr. Munificent’s words at the assembly explained it all. Ten years ago, I hunted a masked kidnapper who terrorized the city…Now he’s back…He’s using you kids to do his dirty work. Nicolaitan had both Scallion and Captious kidnapping children for LaReau. One probably didn’t know about the other. And LaReau no doubt believed he was taking children for the trafficking ring, but in fact, they would be delivered to Nicolaitan. The Knights were masters of deception, and Nicolaitan was the best of the best. Munificent said he would lure kids into his scheme. It seemed that he had also lured a teacher. He was building an army of kidnapped children, just like ten years ago, but this time, he was laying a trail that couldn’t be traced to him. LaReau would take the fall. Or Scallion. Or Captious.
Captious’s black eyes gleamed. He tapped his finger to the beat of the blaring music, and said to Christie, “Your prayers have been answered, sweetheart. It’s time to go.”
Christie’s face filled with panic.
Just then, the double deadbolts on the door to the arcade rattled. I heard a key scraping against the lock, and the door burst open. Mason appeared. He re-bolted the door and moved behind the counter with the sleek stride of a hunting cat.
He cranked up the already loud music, then retraced his steps and took a seat next to Captious. “Funny you should show up just when Christie does. What’s the deal?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing, Mason. I thought we had no secrets between us.”
Confirmed. One didn’t know what the other was doing.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” Mason slammed his fist onto the countertop. “So what about her?”
Christie cringed.
“I’ll be taking this one with me,” Captious said.
Mason’s face twisted in anger. “I don’t think so.”
“Pulling rank, are you?”
“You got it.”
“Might have to fight you for it, Mason.”
“Oh, get real. You’re not in school. This is my world. And this is not how I treat little girls.”
Dr. Captious stood and wrapped his coat around Christie’s shoulders. He helped her to her feet. She moved like a puppet, staring with unblinking eyes.
“Have a good evening,” he said, looking up at Mason. He started to lead Christie away when Mason grabbed him by the shoulder.
Captious was surprisingly fast for a fat little man. He whipped a revolver from his belt and placed the barrel against Mason’s forehead in one fluid movement, hammer cocked. “It’s past my bedtime, Mason. I get cranky when I’m tired.”
Mason backed away, glaring. “Don’t do this. You know all I have to do—”