I’m starting to feel like I’m swimming in a bowl of alphabet soup. “Okay, CIA I get. What’s the other one?”
“NCS. National Clandestine Service. A sub-unit of the CIA,” Aaron says. “They’ve been around in some form since the agency was created, but they got a name change to NCS after September 11. They deal with HUMINT . . . sorry, human intelligence collection. Espionage, interrogation, that sort of thing.”
“So . . .” Deo pauses for a minute, like he’s trying to piece something together, then points to Sam and Aaron. “You two are private investigators, right? I googled you when Anna called me earlier, and your website says you mostly help get evidence for people with cheating spouses. How come you know so much about the CIA?”
“Kind of a hobby,” Sam says, brushing the question aside before turning back to Daniel. “But why is the CIA all of a sudden interested in Lucas? FBI, yeah. But the CIA doesn’t have anything to do with law enforcement, even things that cross state borders like Molly’s . . .” He trails off, glancing over at Deo and me, probably wondering how much we know.
“I don’t think they’re interested in Lucas. Did she ask you anything about him, Anna?”
I think back through the conversation. “No. She didn’t mention him at all. She mentioned Molly, but only in connection to my contacting Porter.”
“Tell them what you told me on the drive over,” Daniel says.
I give them an overview of the conversation, including the strange sensation. “As crazy as it sounds, she was trying to scan me. To pull something from my mind. And I think she actually did do that, right at the beginning, because she repeated what I’d been thinking almost verbatim.”
Aaron frowns. “So if she got inside your head, she knows about Molly.”
“She didn’t get very far. I’ve spent hundreds of hours learning to block off that side of my mind. Usually, it’s to keep . . .”
I pause and glance down at my lap. Talking about these things in front of other people is alien to my very nature. Today alone, I’ve doubled the number of people who know my secrets.
When I look up, Aaron catches my expression and gives me a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay. This is a safe zone. You already know that I believe you. Sam has talked to Porter and to me, so he’s not going to give you any flak. Daniel might think you’re full of crap, but he thinks I am too, so—”
“You know, Aaron, I’m sick of you putting words into my mouth. I’ve never once said I thought you were full of crap. What I said is that you’re a damn fool for giving anyone even the slightest reason to think that you’re some kind of psychic wonder boy. What was the last thing Dad said to you?”
Aaron sucks in a breath and tightens his fist. I don’t know why the question made him so angry, but judging from his narrowed eyes, things are about to get nasty.
I wonder if Aaron’s spidey sense tingles when he’s the one about to go medieval?
Sam sticks his two index fingers into his mouth and produces a shrill whistle. “Cut it. Both of you. Anna was talking.”
I wait a few seconds, and when Aaron’s face resumes something close to its original shade, I continue. “I was saying that the walls are usually to help me keep control of any hitchers I’m carrying around in my head. But this time, it helped me keep this Badea woman from learning about Molly. I’m doing my best to keep the barrier up, because I think she can do it from a distance. I had that same odd tingling sensation right before we left for the police station. In the car with Daniel, too.”
Sam’s head jerks back slightly and he stares at Daniel. “Go on.”
“There’s not much else to tell. She said she worked for someone who was interested in my talents, and I kept denying that I had any talents for them to be interested in. She was angry when she left. Frustrated. But”—I give Deo an apologetic smile—“if she got that information from Deo, then my blocking her out may not have done much good.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Aaron says. “It really depends on whether her goal was to find out what you knew about Molly or to find out something Molly knew.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Daniel asks. “I mean, if she’s in your head, then . . .”
“I can’t access all of Molly’s memories yet. She can tell me things, but I don’t really have control until she moves on.”
Aaron turns toward Daniel, and though there’s still a bit of residual anger beneath the surface, he takes a breath and makes a visible effort to relax. “Have you searched online to see what you can find out about Badea? I mean, aside from what you learned at the station.”
“No,” Daniel says. “Haven’t really had time.”
Aaron slides his chair behind the desk. He seems much more at ease there than his grandfather was, so I’m guessing that’s his usual workstation.
“Spelling?” he asks.
“B-a-d-e-a,” Daniel says. “She called herself Dacia, but on the card, her full name was D-a-c-i-a-n-a.”
And Molly goes completely batshit.
CHAPTER EIGHT