Nightrise

dread.
    "Think back to Reno, Jamie. You said there were four men at the theatre. How many of them do you think you'd recognize?"
    Jamie thought for a moment. "The bald man. I'd know him anywhere. He looked creepy. And his friend…the one who got bitten. I'd know him too." He tried to remember the sequence of events.
    Everything had happened so quickly. "One of the men, the driver of the car, got hurt. He cut his head.
    He'd have a wound."
    "The men in the car may have been local. Was there anyone else?"
    "I didn't see anyone." Jamie had finished eating. Everything had gone, right down to the last lettuce leaf.
    He pushed his plate away. "What difference does it make, Alicia? Even if we catch sight of one of them, we can't go to the police. They'll just arrest me and that will be the end of it."
    "That wasn't what I had in mind."
    "Then what are we going to do?"
    "I've got an idea — but I'm afraid I'm not going to do anything, Jamie. This is down to you."
    "What do you mean?"
    Alicia put down her knife and fork. She thought for a moment, searching for the right words. "Look, I know you don't want to talk about this," she said, "but we can't avoid it anymore. You're very special.
    You have a power. I know you don't like it. But you can use it to find Scott."
    "How?" Jamie asked. But he could already see where she was going.

    "We find one of these men — Banes or the other one — and you go up to him and you ask him where your brother is. Just like that. Of course he won't tell you. But that doesn't matter, does it? Because you can read his mind. You can find out the answer without him saying a word."
    "No!" Jamie clenched his fists. He had shouted his refusal and two people at the next table turned briefly to look at him.
    But Alicia wasn't giving up. "Why not?" she insisted. "What's the matter with you? Have you got any better ideas? Why don't you want to help?"
    "I'm not going to do it," Jamie said. All the color had drained out of his face, and his shoulders were rising and falling as he caught his breath. "I've already told you. I don't even want to talk about it."
    "But what about Scott?"
    'You don't care about Scott. You don't care about either of us. You're just using me because you want me to help you find Daniel."
    As soon as he had said the words, he regretted them. But it was too late. Alicia looked at him as if he had just slapped her across the face. "That's not fair," she said in a quiet voice. "Daniel is my son, it's true. Of course I want to find him. I want it more than anything in the world. But do you really think I'm just using you? Do you think I'll just forget you if I find my boy?" She paused, then continued more slowly. "I can't even be sure that the same people have taken them both. We know people from Nightrise were there in Reno. But there's nothing to say they weren't in Washington, seven months ago. Maybe I'm just clutching at straws and Danny was murdered the day he disappeared. But that won't stop me searching for Scott. We're in this together now."
    "I still can't do what you're asking," Jamie said.
    "Fine." Alicia sat there, rigid. "Then let's go home."

    ***
    They drove back in virtual silence. In fact, Alicia only spoke once. As they reached the main intersection at the Santa Monica Boulevard, she noticed a huge billboard. It showed a man in an open-necked shirt, leaning against what might have been a gate or a fence. The photograph looked casual, almost like a family snap. There was a headline: an honest change
    . And, at the bottom, a straightforward announcement in black letters: senator john trelawny talks at the l.
    a. convention center. june

ND. 8: p.m.
    "That's the day after tomorrow," Alicia said. "I didn't know he was coming to Los Angeles."
    Jamie wondered why she cared.
    "I used to work for him," she reminded him. "In fact, I still do."
    "I thought you said you resigned."
    "I tried to. But he put me on indefinite sick leave…until I found Danny. I still get a paycheck every month. That's how I can afford to go on."
    Alicia's sister owned a pretty studio house — one of five that stood in a row, all of them designed in the Spanish style. At the front, there was a courtyard with flowers spilling out of terra-cotta urns and twisted vines climbing the walls. A pair of cats stretched out in the sun and the air smelled of perfume. The house itself was very simple. A living room and a kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom, all of them furnished simply. Fans circulated and