Diana Racine 02 - Goddess of the Moon

still await you .

Chapter Seventeen
    A Question of Genes

    R alph Stallings knocked on Lucier’s office door. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
    “No, no. Come in. Good to see you again, Agent Stallings.”
    “Call me Ralph. We’ve talked to each other on the phone and met enough times to dispense with formalities.”
    “My experience with your coworkers hasn’t always been as pleasant,” Lucier said. Stallings frowned. “Sorry, but that’s been the case.”
    “It happens. Can’t seem to get through to some of our guys that working with local law enforcement has advantages.”
    “What’ve you got on the note?”
    Stallings scanned the room . “No coffee?”
    “How do you take it?” Lucier asked.
    “Black.”
    “Be right back.” Lucier left the office and return ed a few minutes later with a mug he set down b efore the agent.
    “What, no one to fetch?” Stallings said, blowing on the liquid before sipping.
    “I wouldn’t like someone asking me to fetch , so I do ubt anyone else would either. Now if one of my men asks if I want a cup or if he brings me one, I won’t turn it down. But I don’t ask.”
    “Nice boss.”
    “Bad history.”
    Stallings nodded, took a gulp, and placed the cup on the table. “Note’s just like the last one. The paper is common variety sold in almost every chain store, and the envelope is self-stick. No DNA. The message was typed on a computer and printed on a laser printer. No prints, nothing traceable. ”
    “What I expected . ”
    “How’s Ms. Racine? I can’t imagine she spooks easily, considering her former profession.”
    “She’s taking it in stride. This is nothing compared to what she went through recently. At least I hope that’s the case
    “Since I was sidetracked by the note, I never asked about your visit with Compton. Did Ms. Racine get any vibes?”
    “She had an interesting experience when they shook hands, but nothing tangible. Call it psychic channeling or telepathy or clairvoyance ― whatever ― but when she gets those feelings, she’s usually right. I’ve seen it firsthand.”
    “Man, I’d hate my wife to have that talent. How can you stand her knowing what’s in your mind all the time?”
    “She only does it through touching someone she’s reading.”
    Stallings stopped in mid-sip and peeked over the rim of his cup.
    Lucier shrugged. “ She says not . At least I hope not. I wouldn’t want her to know what I’m thinking during ― hmm, better not. I don’t know you well enough.”
    Stallings laughed. “ ’ Nuff said. She’s an attractive lady. I saw her show this year for the first time, before the killings . Now I wish I’d seen her every time she performed in New Orleans. Very entertaining.”
    “Compton asked for a private reading.”
    “Is she going to do it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Gutsy. And Slater ? ”
    “She’s clearer on him than I am. Something about the guy irks the hell out of me . Did the Bureau turn up anything on him that’s not out there for us mere mortals?”
    “Nothing federal, just the drunk charges in Texas years ago. H e’s cleaned up his act since then. As far as we can tell, Sunrise Mission is the only association he has with Compton. They don’t exactly travel in the same circles.”
    “Compton admires Slater’s work. Maybe Diana will find out more when she reads him.”
    The two cops drank their coffee s and discussed the still unbelievable prospect that some of the richest men in the state ― in the country ― were involved in a satanic cult. After a lot of head shaking, Stallings left.
    Cash passed the agent as he barreled into the office. Beecher followed. “Lieutenant, I got an idea and did some checking.”
    “ Go on. ”
    “I wondered if the babies had anything in common. Five babies. W hy those particular ones? I checked their families’ backgrounds. Except for one, both parents of each kidnapped infant are brainiacs . They’re either scientists, mathematicians, or doctors, each renowned in his or her field.” Cash put his findings in front of Lucier. “ T hose babies were chosen.”
    Lucier flipped through the five histories. “For their genetic makeup?”
    “Yeah, that’s what I think,” Cash said. “Why else? Deems worked at each hospital on average of six weeks. H e was waiting for the perfect babies before he snatched them and disappeared, which means if I’m right, the babies are probably still alive.”
    “And what about the fifth baby?” Beecher