“Because Mom would want you to! Because it has to do with Molly. I’d ask Sam to help, but his best friend got shot today, so he’s kind of preoccupied. And, listen . . . I didn’t tell Tay this, because I don’t want to get her hopes up or for her to go talking to Mom about it. But this isn’t only about Molly. I think it’s tied to Dad, too.”
There’s a small explosion on the other end, and the few words I pick up are NSFW. Aaron’s expression hardens and his voice is flat when he responds. “If you actually think I’d stoop low enough to bring Dad into this if I didn’t believe it was true, then go ahead and hang up the phone. Because I’ve got nothing more to say to you, man.”
For about five seconds, we simply sit there. I can’t hear anyone speaking on the other end, but Daniel must say something, because Aaron’s shoulders relax. “Thank you. He’ll meet you in front of the school near the group house . . . Weller Road Elementary.”
“This isn’t a solution,” I tell Aaron after he hangs up. “We miss curfew and we’re screwed. They’ll probably split us up again. Not a big deal for me. I’ll be eighteen in two months. But Deo’s got three whole years left in the system.”
“Sam has friends who can fix things with the people at your group home. They’ll say you and Deo were witnesses to a crime. He may not have been at Dr. Kelsey’s office today, but attempting to sideswipe pedestrians with a van is a crime and he witnessed that, right?”
The best-case scenario is that Marietta will hear witness to a crime as hanging out with criminals. More likely, she’ll interpret it as committed a crime. But there’s probably little point going into that, when there are plenty of other things I need to ask Aaron.
“While you were on the phone, it occurred to me—well, actually, it occurred to Molly—that we’re missing a big piece of the puzzle here. We get why Lucas might not want the murder case reopened, and why he might target Porter to prevent that. But why would Lucas—or this Graham Cregg guy—believe I have information that might help Porter?”
Aaron looks a bit uncomfortable. “Porter told pretty much every cop in the DC area that a teenage con artist was claiming to be in contact with his granddaughter’s spirit.”
“So what? Even people who’ve seen proof have a tough time accepting that I actually communicate with dead people. Why wouldn’t they just assume I’m crazy?”
“But what if Porter’s request landed in front of someone who was already watching you? Or, maybe not you specifically, but watching for people like you. Like me. People with psychic gifts.”
For a moment, I just stare at him. “Oh . . . I see. Professor Xavier has spies on the police force who are planning to round up all of us mutants for his institute?”
Aaron rolls his eyes. “Hear me out, okay? What do you know about your parents?”
Asking me more questions isn’t exactly the same as hearing him out. I don’t know if it’s the question itself or the prospect of having to rehash all of that for the second time in a matter of hours. Maybe it’s just the fact that this has been one bitch of a day. Either way, his question annoys me. I kind of want to reach across the coffee table and smack him.
“Wasn’t all that in my file?”
“I haven’t seen your file. All I know is what Porter told Sam. That you’d been in a bunch of different foster homes. That you were stalking him, claiming you could channel Molly. Porter didn’t believe you, obviously, but Sam and I warned him he shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
“Why? Because your grandfather gets hunches and you have some sort of psychic abilities, do you automatically believe everything? Someone walks in your door saying she can torch the place using her mind, do you accept it as fact? Demons, vampires, werewolves? Sounds like a good idea for a TV show. Your partner is named Sam—are you sure your name isn’t Dean?”
“Funny,” he says, although he doesn’t really look amused. “For the record, I’ve never seen any of those creatures. I doubt they exist. There are, however, plenty of psychopaths capable of mimicking any monster you can dream up. I’ve also never met anyone with pyrokinetic powers, or any sort of telekinesis, but I’m pretty sure my dad knew some when he was in the military.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The government has been researching psionic abilities for decades, Anna. Did you ever hear of something called MK-ULTRA, run by the CIA?”