Shaking Off the Dust (16 page)

“Go sit in the chair.”

He sat opposite me at the edge of the table and took my right foot into his lap. He rolled the jeans up about midcalf and scraped my ankle until it was abraded, then used the tiny brush I’d gotten per his instructions, and wrote in Japanese. A symbol along my ankle curved up the leg.

“What does it say?”

“It’s the Japanese symbol for love.” He tapped his finger to the tattoo checking. After he was certain it was not still tacky or damp, he put Saran wrap around my ankle and applied a warm cloth he’d heated up in the microwave. He wrote another Japanese word on his own wrist.

“That’s different than what you wrote on my ankle. What does it say?”

“It’s your name.” He winked. His wrist was enclosed in Saran wrap and we heated another cloth.

Pulling out a small jewelry box, he opened it for me to see the two rings. The bands were a little wider.

Finally we both took a pinch of ash and applied it to our upper arms with the liquid Band-Aid.

“I need to get cleaned up too. Can you make me a sandwich while I take a shower?”

He came out less than ten minutes later, still damp and smelling of soap and shampoo. He started to eat the sandwich and pointed to the rings. “Did you try them on?”

I did. “Tom.”

Tom appeared in front of me. “What’s the matter? Why have you been crying?”

“Marvin called. The FBI is on their way. There’s a police car out front watching us.”

“I’m sorry, Hannah. I guess last night was all you’ll get alone until this is over.” Tom touched my face.

“How’s Takeshi taking it?”

I repeated that to Takeshi.

He swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. “Hannah, you need to eat something. It may be a long night.”

It was too late. There was a knock and we only had time to unwrap the tattoos before the police were pounding on the door, ordering us to let them in. When I opened the door, they burst into my house.

Marvin came in last and nodded to us. He held up a piece of paper and shrugged. “This is a search warrant. They’ll be going through every nook and cranny, Hannah.”

I raised my eyebrow saying, “Including my pornography?”

He didn’t smile. “I’d recommend being on your best behavior, girl. They are not your friends in Washington and that’s where we’re going.”

We were walked out to a car, escorted by at least five silent men in dark suits. Once in the car, they wasted no time getting to the airport. Marvin sat in the front passenger seat and craned his neck back to us. “They are in a quandary over how we are to treat you. They don’t want to alienate you if you really are a psychic, but it’s a power thing. They are letting me use my discretion. I’m afraid that will end once we get to Washington. You’ll be turned over to a much higher level than I am.”

I grabbed Takeshi’s hand as soon as we’d got in the car and he pulled me so I leaned against his shoulder. He stroked my wrist in a calming rhythm. I almost thought I’d fall asleep, but when we reached the airport, we were separated to opposite sides of a small private plane.

Tom stood in front of me and smiled. “Want to pass messages to Takeshi? He and I developed a little bit of a system when we were working on my estate stuff. I could cover that so that you’d know the basics.”

I nodded ever so slightly.

“Forget those guys, Hannah. They’ve read all the stuff on you, so they know you think you can see and talk to a ghost. Don’t be afraid of talking to me. Worst case, you go in a loony bin.”

“That’s my Tom. You always know just what to say.”

Takeshi turned his head towards me with a question in his eyes.

“Begin.” For the rest of the flight we worked on signals. The most important one was when he told Takeshi anything pertaining to me, he touched his right elbow twice. If it was an emergency pertaining to me, they used both elbows at once. We decided that would work for me when it pertained to Takeshi.

After I learned each signal, he demonstrated how it would feel.

“Now,” Tom concluded. “You can see and hear me so I won’t need to use the signals, but if for some reason you lose that ability again at least we have established some communication skills. It’s a shame you don’t know the Morse code.”

“Thank you, Tom,” I said as the plane landed.

The next hours were a blur. We were shuffled into a van and driven to FBI offices. I won’t even discuss

the strip search I endured. They drew blood, made me pee in a cup, all under the watchful eye of an older, larger woman. I stepped through metal detectors and was scanned, x-rayed, my teeth were x-rayed, my fingerprints taken and all my jewelry was confiscated. Hell they even scanned my eyes with some sort of gizmo.

I was finally brought before an older man, who I assumed was a psychiatrist or psychologist. Tom sat on the table laughing his ass off.

“So not funny,” I grumbled. “You’d better figure out a way to convince him.”

Tom stopped laughing and I watched him walk through the adjoining walls. “Fine, desert me.”

While he was gone the psychiatrist asked me basic questions on my feelings, my family, was I depressed, did I take street drugs, had I ever been diagnosed with a personality disorder. You know, the basic psych-eval stuff.

Tom came wandering through the wall with the mirror on it and shrugged his shoulder. “There’s a veritable crowd of people behind there. Don’t they realize we watch cop shows? Anyway I got lucky and Bill just got here and was introduced around. So there’s a William Kapin, Homeland Security and liaison to the Spanish government for the plane crash investigation. Rachel Smiley and Jack Rogers are FBI and are watching you. They answer to Thornton. As far as I can tell Thornton is bad news. He’s pushing them to use some mean tactics. Bill doesn’t like it at all and I keep hoping they will come to loggerheads. Bill and Thorton have some kind of history. Either Bill used to be FBI or is on loan from FBI, I can’t figure it out. When Homeland Security was created a lot of people got reorganized.

“They’ve got Takeshi in a room on the other side of the opposite wall. Thornton is hounding him, questioning his loyalty to America, trying to spin a Japanese espionage game.”

I burst out laughing and the psychiatrist looked at me with the sad eyes of a professional watching a psychotic losing touch with reality.

I stared into the mirror. “Tom, show the doctor how cold he can get in this room.”

“You are so wicked. I am learning to adore you.” He sat in the poor man’s lap.

While Tom did his thing, I waved at the mirror.

“Bill, Rachel and Jack, why don’t you join us in here? It’ll be easier for you to hear. Oh and don’t ever question Shimodo’s loyalty to this country. He’s doing valuable research for the brain-injured. Show me how you compare to that.”

The psychiatrist jumped out of his chair and I could see goose bumps on his arms. He was frightened now, but he looked angry too. “That was a mistake, Miss Campbell,” he hissed at me.

“Tom.” I shifted uneasily, afraid of what this angry man might do next.

Tom did something I’d never seen him do. He put his hand through the man's chest and left it there.

Within seconds the man had backed away to the door, yelling for someone to let him out. They opened the door and I was left alone for a while.

“Does that hurt them?”

“I don’t know. It’s a sensory manifestation, but I doubt it can harm them.” He sat on the desk and touched my face.

“But you can’t be sure?”

“No.”

“Then don’t do it again. Not here. I don’t want anyone afraid of us. It doesn’t help your case that you’re trying to solve the plane bombing.”

“Fine. I’m going to check on Takeshi.”

They left me alone for a long time. Most of the wait was punctuated with visits from Tom. He kept me up-to-date as the first twenty hours passed. The room was cold, and I asked them to turn up the heat and for something warm to drink. Every time I’d think about laying down my head to rest, a guard would come in with a cup of coffee. I requested water, but they claimed to forget. I was shivering, tired and thirsty, so I drank the coffee. By the time I was on my third cup, I needed to use the facilities. I started ranting about going in the cup when the large female guard came in and took me to the bathroom. When they brought me back into the interrogation room, two men were sitting across the table. Tom was there, looking at them.

“This is Bill, and this one is Jack. Bill just got here from Spain. He’s been a liaison since the bombing of flight 1029. Jack is running stateside investigations.” Tom sat at the edge of the table.

The blond man spoke, “Miss Campbell, my name is—”.

“Jack. How was your flight from Spain, Bill?” I asked sweetly.

They glanced at each other. Both men had the same body shape, medium height, with broad shoulders.

Bill appeared to be in his late thirties with dark brown hair that was thick and curly, brushing along his collar. His eyes were a pale blue, but nothing got past them. He wore tan dress pants, no jacket and his tie was loosened on a pale tan shirt.

Jack was younger, if he was thirty I’d be surprised, blond and buzz cut. His eyes were brown and his mouth wide, but thin. He smiled at me. He wore a dark blue suit, which was snug against his barrel chest.

“Very impressive, Miss Campbell. We saw the reports from the studies they did on you at the university with Dr. Shimodo’s group. You scored high for telepathy.” Jack wasn’t impressed.

“And you’re a big believer in telepathy, Jack?”

“No, I’m not. Tell me what I’m thinking now, Miss Campbell?”

I couldn’t stop the words. “I don’t know Jack shit about you. If I could read minds then I would, but I can’t. I’ve been gifted with seeing and hearing a ghost. So he tells me what he’s seen and heard.” I glared at them both. “You should know all this by now. All these questions about my true loyalty to the country, my liaisons with foreigners, my emails and spending habits, are all a waste of our time.”

“Miss Campbell, your conversation recorded when your scan was done was filled with information that only someone involved with the people on that plane, or those involved in the plane crash, might know.”

“You have my explanation. It won’t change no matter how many times or ways you ask the questions.”

“But we will keep repeating the questions, Miss Campbell,” Jack insisted.

“He’s getting on my nerves, Hannah. The girl in the other room is badgering Takeshi with the same ten or twelve questions over and over, too. They won’t let either of you rest. They are using the lack of sleep and food to wear you out.”

“I noticed.” My eyes would hardly stay open. “Bill, Jack, have you ever felt the presence of a ghost?” I waved my hand from Tom to my two interrogators. “Let them know you’re here and wake me up when you’re done.” I went to lay my head down on the table, but they stopped me. It had been so long since I’d slept. They had taken my watch away, but I felt every minute of it. My eyes burned and my head throbbed.

“Sorry, Miss Campbell, we need to know where you got all that information on the plane crash and especially on the baggage handler. Every detail,” Jack demanded.

I could see Tom had them both by the ear. It was comical to watch. Within seconds they flicked their ears. After a minute, Bill touched it to see how cold it was. Jack glared at me with a flicker of anger in his eyes. He was going to show me how nothing bothered him.

“Don’t blame me. It’s Tom. He has a habit of boxing the ears of anyone who insults me.” I squinted down and tried to see his watch, but it was a blur at this distance.

Tom got bored with ear holding. They’d gotten the point. He left saying, “Just yell if you need me. I’m going to hunt around after I check on Takeshi.”

The two men stayed with me, repeating the same questions, making me repeat the identical answers until I was hoarse and my speech slurred. I complained of being tired so they offered me coffee. “It’s been lovely chatting with you boys, but I’m going to take a nap now.”

“No, we need to discuss this longer.” Bill’s manner was less abrupt and his voice almost seemed kind.

Even in my sleep-deprived state, I thought he was the good cop in this good-cop-bad-cop scenario. I knew I had it right when Bill left and returned with a turkey sandwich and bottle of water for me. I smiled at him.

Tom popped in and out. I looked forward to the break from the monotony of the same old questions.

When he was there, I’d ignore my good cop, bad cop. I could tell they were curious as to what information I was getting. Tom was as excited as a high school geek about being in FBI headquarters. He enumerated all their security measures.

“They locked your rings in a protected evidence room. It’s huge. There’s even a freezer set up the size of an entire wall, with a backup generator where they are storing the more fragile DNA evidence from crimes. There’s dozens of ghosts down there.”

“Did you talk to them?” I asked, surprised.

“Do I have to? I’m exploring a lot of the building. Between you and Takeshi and the rings I can travel through most of this place.”

“It might help. Go find anything that can aid us, Tom. Try to make friends or something.”

My two interrogators watched me. “What was that about?” Jack demanded.

“I thought I was a traitorous bitch who really didn’t talk to ghosts.” I sounded hateful, but I was tired and didn’t care anymore.

“That’s the current theory.” Jack smiled.

“I doubt it,” I mumbled.

They left me alone a few minutes later, saying they’d be back. I was exhausted. I felt my heart leap from fast to very fast. I put my head down and started to cry.

Tom popped in a few minutes later and saw my tears in a puddle on the table. “Hannah?” He came close to examine me, his hand grazing my cheek.

I started panting and felt cold. I wondered how pale my face had gotten, it seemed to happen with these episodes. My head was too dizzy to move.

“Is it your heart?”

“Yes,” I said in a whisper. That’s all the volume I could get and still breathe.

I heard the door open not long after Tom popped out and one set of footsteps.