Home > The Vanishing (Fogg Lake #1)(27)

The Vanishing (Fogg Lake #1)(27)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“You want to find her because you think she can help you solve your case.”

Slater’s eyes got very cold. “And because she’s an innocent victim who just happened to witness a murder when she was a teen. It really pisses me off when the bad guys use civilians.”

The intensity in his voice startled her.

“‘Civilians’?” she said.

Slater swallowed the last of his coffee, put the cup down and moved his empty plate aside. He leaned forward and folded his arms on the table.

“I know you don’t have much use for my uncles or the Foundation, but like it or not, it’s the only operation that has the resources required to deal with the bad guys regular law enforcement can’t handle.”

“Criminals who possess a strong psychic vibe.” Catalina sighed. “I get that. But I don’t like the idea of a rogue organization operating in the shadows. Like my father says, there’s no accountability. No oversight. Who polices the Foundation? That’s what I want to know. Your uncles might have cleaned things up a little when they got rid of the Rancourts, but they still operate the Foundation in a secretive way. It’s a relief to know that, currently, at least, they seem to be mostly on the same side as regular law enforcement—”

“Mostly?”

Catalina smiled a steely smile. “I’m trying to give the Foundation the benefit of the doubt.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“Here’s where the real doubts come in. What’s to keep the Foundation from going back to the way things worked when the Rancourts ran it?”

Slater regarded her for a long moment. “Does everyone from Fogg Lake hold that view of the Foundation?”

“Not everyone,” she admitted. “There are a handful who think those of us in the paranormal community need some organization or agency we can turn to when it’s clear that regular law enforcement can’t handle the situation.”

“The kidnapping of a woman who sees auras, for example? Or the murder of a couple of collectors who specialized in artifacts with a paranormal vibe?”

“Yes,” Catalina said. “Situations like that. But for the record, as far as I’m concerned, the idea of a rogue organization operating in the shadows with its own police force is … deeply disturbing, to say the least.”

“Well, damn,” Slater said. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Here’s a quick history lesson, Catalina. The government did not shut down every single agency that was involved with paranormal research and development when it closed down the Bluestone Project. Some farsighted individuals realized that the problem of policing bad guys who possess paranormal talents was not going to vanish just because the labs had vanished. One small agency was kept open. But it’s seriously underfunded and unable to provide genuine oversight. Which is why the Rancourt family was able to gain control of the Foundation and remain in control for so long.”

“Are you telling me that the Foundation is supposed to report to some no-name government agency?”

“Oh, it has a name. Just not a very well-known name. The Foundation is a private research-and-development lab under contract to the Agency for the Investigation of Atypical Phenomena.”

“Never heard of it.”

Slater smiled. “That is, of course, the whole point. The government learned its lesson years ago. The vast majority of voters are convinced that serious paranormal research is a waste of money and resources. No one running for office at any level wants to be accused of funding that kind of work. Therefore the Agency is careful to keep a very low profile.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that the Foundation is a front for this Agency for the Investigation of Atypical Phenomena?”

“It’s not the first time a clandestine agency has used a corporate front. All sorts of government entities, including the CIA, fund an enormous amount of investigation and research through private contractors, academic institutions and corporations.”

“Yes, I know,” Catalina said. “But this is the first I’ve heard about this weird little agency.”

“I just wanted you to be aware that the Foundation is not some rogue vigilante operation.”

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to reserve judgment on that. Tell me about Halcyon Manor.”

Slater’s jaw tightened. “You haven’t heard of that, either?”

“Not until Gwendolyn Swan mentioned it.”

“Halcyon Manor is a private psychiatric hospital that specializes in treating people with disorders of the paranormal senses. It’s located outside of Las Vegas.”

Catalina had been about to finish her coffee. Shocked, she set her cup down with exquisite care.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Trust me, it’s not the kind of thing I make jokes about, at least not these days. It’s run by the Foundation. In addition to handling serious parapsych disorders, it has a special wing that houses the criminally insane talents who can’t be safely dealt with in the regular prison system.”

Catalina shook her head. “I suppose I should be beyond stunned after all that’s happened today, but oddly enough, I’m not. The hits just keep on coming. Between you and me, I think it’s safe to say that your uncles and the Foundation have a serious problem when it comes to public relations with Fogg Lake and other people in the paranormal community.”

“Oh, yeah. The Rancourts left us with some baggage.”

The glass doors at the front of the restaurant opened to admit two people, one of whom was all too familiar.

“Oh, shit,” Catalina said.

“Are we back to that?” Slater asked.

“Yep.” Catalina fixed her attention firmly on what was left of her coffee.

Slater turned his head just enough to see who or what had caught her attention. “Roger Gossard.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is that with him?”

“I have no idea.”

Roger’s companion was a stunningly attractive woman who appeared to be almost a decade younger than him. Her long blond hair fell in waves to her shoulders. She wore a tight pencil skirt, a white top and a sleek little jacket that accented her curves to perfection. Her heels were very high. She had one dainty arm tucked into Roger’s elbow.

“An amazing coincidence?” Slater asked, one brow slightly elevated.

“Not really,” Catalina said. “More like bad judgment on my part. This is one of Roger’s favorite restaurants. I wasn’t thinking when I suggested we eat in this place. Oh, well. It will be fine. We’re all civilized adults.”

“Good to know, because the last thing we need is a public scene. We’ve got enough trouble as it is.”

Catalina glared at him. “Trust me, there won’t be a scene.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because Roger won’t want that any more than I do. I’m a threat to his brand.”

“Right. The brand thing.”

“One of these days I may get around to sending your uncle a thank-you note for all that he did to ruin my professional and personal relationship with Roger. I’m sure eventually I would have figured out that things were not going to work for us, but Victor Arganbright made certain the relationship collapsed on an accelerated timetable.”

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