For the next game, Eddie stayed silent during Shannon’s moves. With his deeper concentration, his face looked older, almost ancient. If it weren’t for his eyes darting over the board and his upper plate sliding in an out, he could’ve been taken for a grotesque example of taxidermy. Even with his more determined effort, the result ended up the same-with Eddie knocking his king over once he realized his position was hopeless.
“Just be gentle when you take me off your hook,” he said, his face frozen in disgust.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can,” Shannon said. “Now for your part of the bargain…”
“About the True Light, huh?” Eddie made a face as if he’d coughed up something that needed to be spat out. “Up until a few days ago I’d been setting up shop at the student center. A week ago, a girl, maybe eighteen, tried hitting me up for money. She ended up hanging around for a few hours while I taught her the rules for chess. Very skittish girl, maybe worse, I don’t know. Anyway, at one point she told me she’d been a member of the True Light. She didn’t say much else about it, other than whispering to me that their leader was a false prophet.”
“When you say, ‘very skittish girl, maybe worse’, what do you mean by that?”
“Maybe she was fearful of something.”
“Do you know her name?”
Eddie shook his head.
“How about describing her?”
“Small. Maybe five feet, ninety pounds, if soaking wet. Long straight red hair along with the pale skin redheads usually have. Would’ve been attractive if her eyes weren’t jumping around like ping pong balls.”
Shannon stood up and offered his hand to Eddie, who frowned at it. “Don’t get offended,” he said. “But I don’t shake hands. It’s just something I’ve never done.” He put his own hand up to his grayish red beard and started stroking it. “If you’re willing to give me a rematch sometime soon, I’ll set up shop back at the student center and see if I can find her again.”
“Deal. How about in a few days?”
Eddie nodded and turned his concentration back to the chess set, frowning deeply as he studied the position he had ended up in.
Shannon checked his watch and saw it was a quarter past ten. He tried calling Mike Maguire, who sounded rushed as he told Shannon now was not a good time and to call him later. Almost as soon as the line was disconnected, Pauline Cousins called. Shannon agreed to meet her at noon at the coffee shop inside of the Best Western motel. He then walked back to the courthouse, found a grassy spot on the lawn, and sat cross-legged as he meditated on his heart chakra using a technique Eli had taught him. The technique involved picturing a small blue ball hovering in front of his chest. At first the ball was spinning wildly, darting in and out of his mind’s eye. After a while he was able to slow it down, and for a moment he had it hovering calmly in place.
His cell phone jolted him out of his meditation. For a long moment he didn’t want to move, hoping to be able to hold onto the peace of mind he had slipped into. Realizing it was lost, he checked the caller ID and saw it was Paul Devens.
“I have a court date for tomorrow morning,” Devens told him. “I’m going to have to do some fancy tap dancing to get you into that condo while at the same time keeping Carver’s family out. I’m afraid if they got in, the place would be cleaned out in minutes.”
“After meeting with them yesterday I have to agree with you.”
“Quite a family,” Devens said.
“Quite a family,” Shannon agreed. He filled Devens on what he had done so far. “I’m thinking I should visit Linda’s family. How would your client feel about travel expenses to Wichita?”
“Not an issue. Whaever you need to do. I’ll call you after the hearing and let you know how my tap dance went.”
After putting the phone away, Shannon thought briefly about trying to get back into the calmness he had slipped into, but decided it was a lost cause. Instead he got to his feet and headed back to his apartment. He didn’t have much time if he was going to make travel arrangements to Wichita before meeting Pauline Cousins.
Shannon arrived at the Best Western motel a few minutes before noon. When he walked into the adjoining coffee shop he spotted a woman sitting alone at the counter who kept glancing towards the door. Her eyes had a hollowed out, desperate look as they locked on his. He approached her. She tried smiling, but it didn’t stick.
“Pauline?” he asked.
She nodded, biting her lip. “You must be Mr. Shannon?”
“Bill,” Shannon corrected.
“Bill,” she said. This time a wisp of a smile stuck for a few seconds before disappearing. “Thank you so much for meeting with me.”
“Why don’t we take a booth? It will give us more privacy.”
She moved unsteadily as she slid off the counter stool. Shannon took her hand, then her arm as he directed her to a booth. She was nearly skeleton-thin and walked as if she needed the support Shannon gave her. Looking as worn out and frail as she did, she could have been anywhere from her late forties to early seventies. Once he got her seated, he went back to the counter to fetch her coffee.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get my name?” Shannon asked as he sat across from her.
She tried smiling again. This time it lasted a few second longer. “A woman at the university recommended you. Lauren Magglia. She told me you helped them find a student who had run off.”
A year earlier Shannon had been hired by the University of Colorado to find a missing student with a history of depression. Lauren was his contact for the job. It turned out the student had stopped taking his medications, and when Shannon found him he was holed up at a fleabag rooming house off East Colfax Avenue in Denver. A month after being back on his medications, he was no worse for wear. Last May Shannon and Susan took him out to dinner to celebrate finishing his junior year of college.
“I understand this must be very difficult for you-” Shannon started.
“This is far worse than difficult.” She put a hand to her cheek and held it there gingerly as if she were suffering from a toothache. “I tried going there this morning. They wouldn’t let me see Melissa. They wouldn’t even let me know if she’s still there. I don’t even know if my daughter’s alive.”
“The police checked that your daughter’s okay.” Shannon told her about a phone call he had with Daniels on his way over to meet her. “An officer visited the True Light after you first called them. He determined your daughter was there of her own free will.”
“How could she be there of her own free will? They brainwashed her!”
“Maybe, but she’s over eighteen. As far as the law’s concerned there’s nothing anyone can do.”
“You sound like my husband,” Pauline said. “That’s all I heard for six months.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I’m sorry I let him browbeat me. I should’ve come here the moment I heard about this. I should’ve done everything I could to drag Melissa out of that cult.”
“These things are hard,” Shannon said. “I was a police officer for ten years. I’ve seen this before. There was probably nothing you or anyone else could’ve done.”
“I don’t believe that.” She bit her lip as she fought to keep her composure. Shannon couldn’t help noticing how tight her skin seemed on her face, as if it could rip if she opened her mouth too wide.
“I need to know that Melissa’s okay,” Pauline continued, a wetness showing around her eyes. “And I need to be able to talk to her, to try to convince her to leave that place. Mr. Shannon, I mean, Bill, please, will you help me?”
Shannon found himself nodding. “I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you tell me about your daughter. How she joined this cult.”
Pauline fumbled with her handbag as she took out a photograph. Shannon hoped the girl in it would have straight red hair, but instead saw the image of a young blonde girl. Even with a slightly upturned nose she was very pretty and, like her mother, very thin.
“That was taken last summer. Melissa’s a sophomore at the university. The two of us have always been close.
