Chapter 1-2
1295 Words
“Here you go,” Kylian said, handing the sketch to Emile. “By the way, Wescott’s, well, not a phony, but not quite what he’d like the people to think who pay for his drawings.”
“How so?” Emile asked as he studied the picture of the teen then handed it to one of the officers standing by, telling him to take it back to the station and get copies, ASAP.
“Unless I’m way off base, and I don’t think I am,” Kylian said once the officer had left, “he’s a telepath who gets the images from the person’s mind, not their words.”
“Pretty good scam, then,” Emile replied dryly. “Not illegal, if that’s all he’s using it for.”
“I intend to find out.” Without giving Emile a chance to reply, Kylian turned and left the crime scene. Ten minutes later, he’d found a parking spot and was walking to the plaza, hoping Wescott would be there. Not that he’d be hard to find, come tomorrow night, if he isn’t.
When he reached the plaza, he saw the artist sitting on one of the benches. He approached, saying as he sat as well, “Thanks for waiting for me, Mr. Wescott.”
“Let’s start by you calling me Brett. It’s a bit less formal.”
“Brett, it is.” Kylian leaned back casually, putting his arm on the back of the bench. “I think you have some questions for me.”
“Really? I suspect it’s vice versa.” Brett barely smiled.
Cutting to the chase, Kylian asked, “How many people know you’re telepathic?”
Brett shrugged. “My mother, and she’s not too happy about it. She found out when I was a kid, and suggested, very strongly, that I keep it to myself since people do not like the idea that someone can read their minds. So I did, and I have.” He eyed Kylian. “How did you manage to block me? I’ve never had that happen before.”
“To use a very clichéd phrase, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
“I don’t think so. I suspect, no, I know that you picked up on what I was doing. It’s why you let me pull the image of that boy from your mind but nothing else. If you were going to kill me, you’ve had plenty of opportunities in the last half hour. I haven’t exactly run and hid from you.”
Kylian nodded. “True. Why?”
“Because I’m curious. Why are you looking for the kid? Somehow I doubt that he’s your brother.” Brett tapped his lip, then frowned. “You’re a cop. He’s a witness to something. Damn. I should have taken off, rather than wait for you.” He looked as if he was about to do just that.
“What do you have against the police?” Kylian asked before saying, “Never mind. I won’t pry. I’m not a cop, but my brother is. The kid in the picture is indeed a witness—a missing one.” He was relieved when Brett seemed to relax marginally.
“You probably won’t tell me, but what did he see?”
“I presume you’ve heard of the Phantom Slayer.”
Brett snorted. “Who in the city hasn’t? Damn, the kid saw him?”
“Yes. Which makes it imperative that we find him before the Slayer does.”
“Street kid?”
“Yes, from what the cops he talked to said. They’re the only ones who’ve seen him. He told them—”
“Hold on,” Brett said. “If you haven’t seen him, how do you know what he looks like?”
That’s what’s called walking right into with both feet. “Maybe you’re not the only one who’s telepathic?” Kylian replied.
“If you are, why didn’t you have a police sketch artist come up with a picture of him? As far as that goes, why didn’t the cop who saw him get with one?”
“They’re overbooked, apparently, and time is of the essence. My brother told me about you, suggesting I find you. So, I did, and got what we needed.”
“You do know finding the kid is going to be next to impossible. Street kids are used to keeping a low profile, so their folks won’t find them. Now he’s got even more of a reason not to surface again. Hell, he could be halfway to Baton Rouge or Alabama by now.”
“I know.” Kylian rubbed his temples, saying under his breath, “I need to get some of my guys out here on the double.”
Apparently Brett had sharp hearing because he said, “Your guys?”
Kylian sighed. “I run a private organization consisting of trained operatives who know how to search for people who don’t want to be found.” He neglected to add that the majority of those people they went after weren’t human.
“By the time you get them out here, unless your business is here in the city, it might be too late.”
“Believe me, I’ll well aware of that. Two of them are here, however.” Kylian took out his phone, turning away to place a call. When it was answered, he said, “I need you and Ronnie here on the double.” He chuckled. “Yeah, that would help. The plaza in front of St. Louis Cathedral.” He replied “Yes,” when Todd asked if he meant in New Orleans.
“They should be here soon,” he told Brett after hanging up.
“Meaning I should get my ass out of here.”
“Why?” Kylian replied. “You could be a help, if you’re willing.”
“How?”
“This whole thing is a crap shoot, since we’re going to have to talk to homeless kids and they’re not going to want to rat him out if they’ve seen him. Hang on.” Kylian called Todd again to tell him where Emile was. “He should have copies of the sketch by now. We need four of them.” He nodded when Todd said that could add a few minutes to their arrival time. “We can’t do anything without them. We don’t know the kid’s name.”
“Okay,” Brett said when Kylian shoved the phone into his pocket. “Back to what you were saying. How can I help? Okay. Never mind. I show the picture to anyone I talk to, and then read their mind to see if they know him and, hopefully, where he is, right?”
“Right. You probably know the city better than I do. Where’s the best place to start?”
“Where was the murder? Or should I ask, in which cemetery this time?”
“Saint Louis One,” Kylian replied.
“Then I’d start along Rampart. There’s plenty of places the kids can use because some of the buildings still haven’t been restored since the hurricane.”
“Katrina? Wasn’t that years ago?”
“Twenty-oh-five. But sadly, there have been others since that put a crimp in the renovations.”
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”
Brett c****d his head. “If your business is here, why don’t you know that?”
“One of my offices is, but I work out of my headquarters in Denver. I haven’t been out here in forever. My brother called to ask for my help with the Slayer murders.”
Brett didn’t look as if he quite believed him. Kylian was glad he had a block on his thoughts when he felt Brett trying to read them. He smiled slightly, saying, “That won’t work with me.”
“Can’t blame me for trying,” Brett replied ruefully.
At that point, a man and a petite woman came across the plaza to join them, the man handing Kylian copies of the sketch of the teen. “So what are we doing?” he asked.
“Making introductions, first,” Kylian replied. “This is Brett. Brett, this is Todd and the redhead is Rhonda, or Ronnie for short.”
Ronnie looked Brett over and grinned. “You’re a big one, aren’t you?”
“Ronnie, behave,” Todd said. “You’re taken.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t admire a good-looking man,” she retorted. “Nice to meet you, Brett.”
“You, too,” he replied, seeming a bit nonplused.
“Let’s get down to business,” Kylian said firmly. “We need to find this kid, fast. He’s the only person who’s seen the Slayer and lived to talk about it. At least we hope he’s still alive. Every cop in the city should be keeping an eye out for him by now, but he’s a street kid, so finding him won’t be easy.” He handed the pictures to the others. “We’ll spread out from here, working our way toward Rampart, talking to any of the homeless we find.”
Brett frowned. “Can Todd and Ronnie, umm?”
“Are they telepaths, like you? Yes. That’s why I brought them in, specifically,” Kylian replied, both in answer to Brett’s unstated question and to warn Todd and Ronnie, so that they’d block their thoughts from Brett’s possible probing.
“What the hell kind of organization has telepaths as regular employees?”
“Mine,” Kylian replied with a smile. “When we’re searching for someone, it helps.” He wasn’t about to reveal that, since all the people working for him were paranormals, by their very nature at least half of them were able to read minds—some more easily than others. “Brett, we need your phone number, and vice versa. If one of us finds him, or at least learns where he might be, we have to let the others know.”
After they traded numbers, they took off for Rampart.
- Writer
