talked.” He glanced around. “Where would a projection come from?”
Cole left them peering up at the promenade and lobby levels above. However much it bugged them trying to explain what happened, with luck, that hinted at how much he could mess with Irah’s mind. Grinning in anticipation, he zipped back to the Embarcadero.
17
The anticipation turned to frustration back in Irah’s office. She had gone. Rather than waste the collection effort, he headed for Flaxx’s office. She might be there and he could confront both of them at once. Or if Flaxx were alone, he might use the opportunity to rat Irah out and tell big brother what little sister had been up to on her own.
As Cole approached Flaxx’s door, however, he thought of the security tape and realized that now he had a way to see it. Let the haunting wait a few more minutes. He changed direction for the Security office.
When Cole passed through the door, Farrell had his back to it, sitting relaxed with his hands behind his head while he watched the monitors. In particular, he appeared to be watching the reception area. On the monitor Gina bent over straightening magazines on a side table, an action that raised her skirt in back, displaying the entire length of her legs. Cole made himself block out the show and concentrate on visualizing himself as Earl Lamper and his voice as Lamper’s.
As soon he felt substance, he cleared his throat. “Mr. Farrell.”
Farrell jerked upright and whipped his chair around. “Mr. Lamper! I didn’t hear you come in.”
It worked! And doing Lamper felt easier than Robocop. Cole gave him one of Lamper’s thin smiles, though he felt like pounding Farrell’s back in celebration. “I’d like another look at that tape we showed the detectives.”
“Yes, sir.” Farrell pulled the cassette out of the drawer and pushed it into the TV/VCR. “How much of it?”
“Run it from noon until seven-thirty.” That probably gave him a race between the tape and holding on to the materialization, but he needed to be sure Irah had not left earlier than the time period they checked before. Maybe the less he moved, the longer he could last.
Farrell started the tape. Images flickered for a second or two, then disappeared into static, followed by a partial image and more static.
“What the hell?” Farrell’s scalp furrowed. “I don’t understand. This was fine when I showed it to Miss Carrasco.”
Irah! Cole swore silently. “When was that?”
“A couple of hours ago.”
Hearing about the tape’s existence startled Irah. She no doubt expected it to have been thrown away. She needed it thrown away, so no one could see she never left the office that evening, that she had been there to catch Sara and lure him to the garage. “Have you been out of the office since then?”
Farrell’s tone went anxious. “Just to take a leak and get my lunch from the break room. And I locked the office.”
No defense against Irah. She would have seen where Farrell kept the tape, and running a magnet over it enough to mess it up did not take long.
“This isn’t your fault. You might as well stop the tape. There’s no point trying to watch any more.” Just as well. He could not hold the materialization much longer. “Still keep the tape, though.” Experts might be able to salvage something.
He eased toward the door. While Farrell ejected the tape and returned it to the drawer, Cole said, “Thank you,” and let go.
Farrell glanced around, and blinked. “Mr. Lamper?” Then he shrugged and turned back to his monitors.
Cole zipped back to his Embarcadero intersection and stalked angrily through the vehicles. Now he had no proof Irah stayed late and-
A raucous outburst from gulls pulled his attention upward…and bringing the clock on the Ferry Building tower into his line of sight. The time! This was about when Razor planned to see Sherrie! For all the time spent at SF General, Cole wondered, did he have enough sense of its location for a ziptrip? He opened his internal map and put a mental finger on the hospital…next to the James Lick Freeway, tucked between the Mission and Potrero Hill… then pictured the ER’s location inside the hospital.
The Embarcadero turned into the ER reception desk. Yes! Maybe he finally had zipping nailed. Giving the oblivious clerk a thumbs up, he hurried past the desk into the ER.
Finding Sherrie and Razor might take time. They had a choice of places to talk, including outside, if Razor wanted to smoke. Cole had barely started hunting them, however, when he spotted Razor coming out of the nurse’s lounge…alone. Face deadpan, Razor headed for the exit. Cole’s stomach knotted. The meeting appeared to be over, and must not have gone well. He angled to intercept Razor and ask what happened.
Before he said a word, Razor muttered, “Outside.”
Razor saw him without being prompted? That was real progress. In the parking lot, Razor did not look at him again until he lit a cigarette and took a long drag.
The meeting had not gone at
Razor exhaled. “Well it’s sure as hell creeping me out.”
Cole’s stared at him in dismay. “What happened with Sherrie?”
“Sherrie?” Razor blinked. “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about the other ghosts in there.”
Now it was Cole’s turn to blink. “You’ve seen other ghosts?”
“Oh, yeah.” Razor took another deep drag. “Not like I do you. They’re on the edge of my vision and when I turn to look, they disappear. I didn’t just
“Why is that worse than seeing me?”
Razor grunted. “How would you like having things come at you in your peripheral vision.”
Okay, that would be unnerving to a cop. “I’m sorry. Were there many?” An ER could be awash in the spirits of the recently departed.
“Any is too many for me, but….” Razor shrugged. “…I guess I saw just four or five.”
An idea hit Cole. A way to learn if Sara was alive or not. “Can I talk you into deliberately looking for another one?”
Razor winced. “Where?”
“The Two EC parking garage, for Sara’s ghost. I hope you don’t see it but if you do… we’ll know she’s dead.”
“Yeah.” Razor sighed heavily. “I’ll give it a shot.” He ground the cigarette out underfoot. “The car’s that way.”
Once they were in it and headed north, Cole came back to his other concern. “How did things go with Sherrie?”
Razor hesitated. “Well…”
“She didn’t believe you about Sara?” Cole’s gut felt like lead.
“She wants to, but…come on.” Razor grimaced. “I’m your good buddy swearing that nothing happened when you played along with a young, leggy blonde hitting on you. She didn’t call me a liar but — how did she put it? She can understand how my affection for you both makes me want to protect your reputation and her memories of you.” He shook his head. “It isn’t like there’s evidence to back me up…just my word against what the Brewer woman claims she saw, Sherrie knowing how bad you want Flaxx, and how nervous you acted between meeting Benay and disappearing. Which I have to say, amigo, even makes
Cole told him about Sara stripping down to her butterflies.
