Nightrise

But there was no art here. The walls were covered with posters: the same poster. It showed a serious-looking, gray-haired man. He had been caught half smiling, as if he wanted to be friendly but had too much on his mind, vote Charles baker
    . Jamie recognized the name of the senator running for president against John Trelawny. From the look of things, the entire floor had been turned into a campaign office on his behalf.
    Jamie felt more exposed here. It could only be a matter of time before he was noticed. But at least he knew where he was going. 4907, 4908…he followed the office doors around. Another quick look at his watch. He had two minutes left.
    Colton Banes had an office suite at the far corner; the door was half open. Jamie edged forward and looked through. There was an outer room with a desk for an assistant but it was empty. A second door, also open, led into another, larger space. And there he was, sitting in a high-backed leather chair behind an antique, highly polished desk. Jamie drew a breath. He had come here looking for Banes but even so, it was a shock to see him again — the cold, watery eyes, the bald head that could have been the result of some disease. This was a world away from the Reno Playhouse, and Jamie found it almost impossible to make the connection. Had Nightrise sent this man to kidnap his brother and himself? Had Banes really killed two people — Don and Marcie — when the plan had gone wrong?
    He looked at his watch. Thirty seconds left.

    "Who are you? What are you doing there?"
    The voice had come from behind him. A man was moving down the corridor and Jamie could see at once that he wasn't anything like the younger man he had met in the photocopying room. He was plump and bearded, wearing a suit, and he had a radio transmitter in his hand. He must be part of security. And he was suspicious.
    The telephone rang. Jamie heard it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Banes pick it up.
    "Who are you?" the security man demanded.
    "Hello?" Jamie heard Banes answer the telephone and knew he had to get into the office. There were just seconds left.
    Sitting outside the office building, speaking on her cell phone from the car, Alicia asked, "Is this Colton Banes?" She had been passed through to his office by the receptionist.
    'Yes." Banes was already puzzled. He didn't know the voice. Why was this woman calling him?
    The security man was waiting for Jamie to answer. When Jamie said nothing, he took a step forward. "I think you'd better come with me," the man said.
    "I'm with him." Jamie jerked a thumb in the direction of the office. He knew it sounded feeble but he couldn't think of anything to say. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
    On her cell phone, Alicia knew the moment had come. "Where is Scott Tyler?" she asked.
    Banes looked up and saw a scrawny boy in a brightly colored shirt and baseball cap standing in his office and knew he had been tricked. The woman on the phone had asked him a question and although he had no intention of saying anything more, he couldn't stop himself from thinking the answer. That was why Jamie was here. This was what the two of them had arranged. He had arrived just as Alicia had opened a window in the man's mind.
    Jamie jumped through it.
    He did exactly what he had done a thousand times on the stage. He jumped — not physically but as if he were throwing a miniature replica of himself out of his head. But this time it wasn't Scott at the other end. This time it wasn't his brother with his warm and familiar thoughts.
    It was Colton Banes.

    Jamie felt himself plunge into utter darkness. It was like diving into a pool of frozen oil. And at that moment, he shared everything that Banes had ever felt or thought. There were pictures — millions of them — but there were also experiences and emotions: fear, arrogance, lust, anger, cruelty, hatred, and much, much more. Jamie had tried to explain it to Alicia but he would never have been able to find the words. A man's brain is a world. That's what he should have said. And the world in which he now found himself was beyond any imagining.
    He saw the death of Kyle Hovey. Worse than that, it was his hands that were around the other man's neck. He could feel the warm flesh and the pulsing vein under his own fingers as he squeezed. This had been the most recent killing and it was uppermost in Banes's mind. He saw a woman watching him. She had very short, gray hair, a long neck, glasses. Banes