The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)

“The mystery man is walking to his car.”

Across the yard, she saw the man, whom she did not recognize. He was walking through the parking lot toward his beige Impala. He moved with purpose. “Why do you call him the mystery man?”

“Dr. Fenton told me he’s none of my concern.”

“Why did you ask Dr. Fenton about him?”

“I know the job of everyone else who works at Harmony House. I know their names, their job titles, when they arrive, when they leave, when they go on vacation, and many other things about them. I know that Nurse Gloria has a son named Cornell who graduated from Yale Law School. I know that Jerome in the cafeteria has a wife named Marla who is going bald, but he tells her she looks beautiful every night.”

She watched the man drive out of the parking lot and past the driveway-gate guard. “What makes you so sure he works here?”

“He’s here almost every day, but sometimes he doesn’t come inside the building. Sometimes, he just sits in his car.”

“That’s a little strange.”

“Yes, it is a little strange. That’s what he was doing last Friday when you left Dr. Fenton’s office feeling excited for the foreseeable future.”

“He was just sitting there?”

“Then, after a while, he drove away.”

“When the opportunity presents itself, I’ll ask Dr. Fenton about him.”

“How will you know when the opportunity presents itself?”

She glanced at him and resumed walking. “Years of practice.”

“Will you teach me how?”

“I’ll do my best.”

He did not make his BUZZER sound. Because Skylar was telling the truth.



It was well into the evening before Skylar noticed the sun had already gone down. She was on her fourth storage box of materials on Eddie, and still felt like she was only getting started. She made all kinds of notes of things to check on further. The acoustic tiles. The boot soles. His love of birds. And the earliest incarnations of the echo box, which predated his arrival at Harmony House. According to his pediatrician’s notes, Eddie first mentioned the device when he was only eight years old. The notes included a sketch Eddie had made at the time, which was quite similar to the existing prototype. Skylar shook her head in awe. What kind of an eight-year-old thinks of reconstructing partial wave fragments to generate sounds made long ago?

“Eddie’s father has never once come to visit in the entire time he’s been here.” Fenton stood in the doorway to her office. “He simply seems to want no further connection with Eddie.”

“Some parents just prefer to wash their hands.” She was thinking of her own mother, and the pain her absence had caused Skylar for so many years. As a child, she had often wondered what she had done wrong that caused her mother to leave. As a teenager, Skylar imagined confronting her, particularly after Christopher’s death. And as an adult, she mostly preferred not to think of her at all, because while she had intellectually come to terms with her mother’s decision, Skylar knew that deep down, she still carried a genuine hatred for the woman.

“It’s tragic, really. For both parties.” He entered her office slowly, noting the few personal touches she’d put around the room.

“I’m convinced that Eddie’s lack of intimacy has been a major barrier to his progress.”

He chuckled. “That’s true for all of us, isn’t it?”

She smiled briefly. “Most of us don’t have to memorize what a smile means.”

Fenton nodded appreciatively. “How do you intend to connect with him?”

“By making him feel safe with me. I want him to know it’s okay to take chances.”

Fenton looked out her window. “The walk outside today was a good idea. He’s been spending far too much time cooped up inside.”

“One of my goals is to do as many new things as he will tolerate. I want to expand his comfort zone.”

“Be careful not to stretch it too much. Without his many routines, he absolutely falls apart.”

“Once he trusts that I won’t let him fall, you’ll be amazed what happens.”

The moment was interrupted when Skylar’s cell phone rang. It was Jacob. She answered the phone, saying, “Honey, hang on for just a second.” She turned to Fenton, cupping the phone. “He was expecting me for dinner. I have some explaining to do.”

“By all means. I should be getting home, as well. Have a good night.” He backed out of the office and closed the door.





CHAPTER 26

Christopher Street, New York City, May 24, 7:08 p.m.

Jacob was walking down the sidewalk, which was always crowded, especially at rush hour, when he called Skylar. He was heading toward the subway station at Sheridan Square with his student Barry Handelman, the billionaire’s son, and Barry’s rather stunning girlfriend. Jacob waited for Skylar to finish whatever she was doing.

She finally got back on the line. “I thought you were supposed to be going to some art-house flick with your students?”

“I am. All my students bailed on me except one. His girlfriend is joining us, and I was wondering if I could convince you to make it a foursome.”

“Wish I could, but I’m still at Harmony House.”

“Okay, just thought I’d ask. Don’t work too late.” Jacob, Barry, and his girlfriend, Tatiana, who happened to be a model, descended into the station.

Tatiana asked Barry, with a slight Argentinean accent, “Do we really have to take the subway? Why don’t we just take the car?”

The professor interjected. “He’s traveling with me, not the other way around. Professors don’t do limos. Especially when they belong to their students.”

Jacob could see that both his student and his girlfriend truly hated the subway, but neither said anything further. The professor regretted his insistence almost immediately when he noticed the homeless guy following them. The man was in really bad shape. He walked with a severe limp. His tattered clothing was filthy. Jacob figured the guy had probably targeted them because of Barry’s girlfriend. Not that she was his objective, but no woman like this would be with a guy like Barry if he wasn’t filthy rich.

They turned a corner as they made their way through the station. Jacob used the opportunity to glance behind them to see if the bum was still following them. He wasn’t. Jacob was just being paranoid. At least, that was what he told himself.

Arriving at the uptown platform, he glanced at Tatiana. “Have you ever seen a French film?”

She responded in French. “Professeur, ce n’est pas parce que je suis mannequin que je suis inculte.” (Professor, just because I am a model does not make me illiterate.)

He responded in kind. “Je n’ai jamais dit ?a. La majorité des Americains n’en ont pas vu un seul.” (I never said you were. Most Americans have never seen a foreign film.)

Barry interjected. “English, please, or I’m going to start getting jealous.” He smiled playfully.

Tatiana glanced at him, then at Jacob. “I am not American.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. I was only offering to give you some background in case you weren’t familiar with what we’re about to see.” Jacob said it without any airs. He was genuinely trying to be helpful.

“I have seen many French films, but never an avant-garde one.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat,” he said loudly over the cacophony around them. “That or you’re in for the most god-awful time you’ve ever experienced, in which case I’ll buy you both a drink.”

Barry chimed in, practically yelling over the noise of the approaching train. “In that case, I’ll be calling a car.”

“Maybe then you’ll have to bring the professor out clubbing with us.”

“Who said we were going out?”

“Who said we weren’t?” she purred.

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