Chapter 37: Endgame

Amber was already handing me my phone as I 'woke up' in the big hotel bed.

"Has he called?" Sandra Atkins asked as soon as I answered.

"And good evening to you, too, Miss Atkins."

I felt Allison and Lizzy stirring beside me and slipped out from between them and off the bed.

"Or should I say, 'good morning?'" I asked after glancing at the clock.

"About time I got to return the favor," she said and then asked again. "Has he called?"

"Has who called?"

"Your mysterious source."

"No, no one's called," I answered. "Why? Did something happen?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" I asked.

"Damn," she said. There was a moment of silence before she added, "If you don't already know, then I can't tell you. If you hear from him, let him know I want to talk to him."

"Okay," I said. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me what this is about?"

She hesitated again before saying, "No, just have him call me."

"Sure, no problem."

It took a little effort but I managed to ignore the obvious implication that something was up, and rejoin the others.

An hour later the phone rang again, this time pulling me back from a quiet cruise around the bottom of the lagoon with the girls. It was Spencer this time.

"Hello, David, I'm sorry for waking you. Can I ask where you are?"

"New Jersey, and it seems to be my night for it. Why do you need to know where I am?"

She ignored the question. "How long have you been gone?"

"I flew out Monday morning. What's going on, Spencer? Atkins called me an hour ago wanting to know if I'd heard from my source."

"Atkins called? And she didn't tell you?" she asked. "When do you get back?"

"Tomorrow morning. Friday tomorrow, not today."

"Is Christine with you?"

"No, she couldn't come; she had school."

"Okay," she said. "Do me a favor? Come see me when you get back, before you go home, okay?"

"Nicki, what's going on?"

"Nothing I can tell you about on the phone. Don't worry about it, just come and see me when you get back."

"Sure, no problem, I'll call you as soon as I land," I said and broke the connection.

"Jamie?" I said after I hung up. "Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

"No," she said, flatly.

"Jamie?" I asked again.

I felt Jamie take over, and suddenly I was up and walking toward the other room.

"Where you going stud ... muffin?" Elizabeth asked, sitting up as I moved toward the door. The hesitation told me she had realized that Jamie was exerting herself.

"Something is going on," I said. "I shouldn't be long."

Then Jamie spoke through me, "Allison, could you come with us, please."

"Sure," she replied. She got up and grabbed two robes, closing the bedroom door behind her and handing me one of the robes as she joined me on the couch.

"What's up?" Allison said.

"We can't talk about it here," Jamie said through me.

"Then why did I have to get up?" Allison growled, obviously irritated.

Allison's not a morning person, even when it is morning. Waking her up and dragging her out of a nice warm bed – especially one where she was cuddled up to nice warm bodies – was not a good way to start her day. Moving to the loveseat, she stretched out with the robe spread over her, while Jamie and I took the couch.

In moments we were back in the cabana. I felt around and confirmed that there was a bubble out there somewhere. This couldn't be good.

Jamie looked at me, "Tell her."

"First, Atkins called and wouldn't say why. Then, just now, Spencer called wanting to know where I was and when I was getting back. I assumed this meant something had happened, but when I asked Jamie if there was anything she wanted to tell me, she said no."

"That's what you get for asking the wrong question," Allison said. I started to respond, but she held up her hand. "Yes, something happened. But it's nothing she wants to talk to you about because you're better off not knowing until after you meet with Spencer. You need to look surprised, and – while you are getting better – you're still not that good an actor."

"Well, that's just guaranteed to keep me up the rest of the night. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry," Allison said. "I wasn't sure they would call you or if they would just wait until you got back. You being concerned and wondering what's up will actually be better in the long run anyway."

"Couldn't we just say my source told me?"

"We could, but it might seem a little too convenient. If he were going to tell you, he probably would have done so before they called. No, I think it's best if we just leave it alone for now and let it play out naturally."

The look in her eyes said there was more.

"What?" I asked.

"Your source needs to call Atkins."

I thought about what she was saying, or rather not saying. My source needed to call Atkins, but I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't very well wait until Spencer told me what was happening; the timing would be just a little too obvious.

"You want Jamie to call Atkins, but I can't hear what they talk about," I said.

She nodded and said, "Yes. He needs to talk to her before you find out."

"So I get the bubble treatment while Jamie covers my ass. I'm working hard to not put two and two together here, Sis."

"I know," she said. "So the less we talk about it the better, don't you think?"

"Yeah, when do you want to do it?"

"Do you think it's too soon?" Jamie asked.

I thought about it. "No, it's been over an hour since she called me, which means whatever prompted the call happened at least that long ago, probably longer. Obviously, she thinks it's something he knows about. Chances are she'll ask about me – just tell her you haven't told me yet. If she asks why, tell her what you told me."

"Okay, Jimmy I'm so..."

I cut her off and put my finger to her lips. "Don't," I said. "It's pretty obvious you're doing this to protect me. You don't ever need to apologize for that."

"You sure about that?" Jamie asked.

I had a sudden image of Brad Russell on his knees clutching what was left of the arm she had broken.

I smiled. "I was talking about Allison."

She stuck her tongue out at me, then moved in and hugged me. "I love you, too. Now kiss little sister and go read a book for a while."

Jamie

"Atkins."

"Happy Valentine's Day," I said.

Mine was the voice Atkins was used to hearing whenever David and Rebecca's 'source' called. We'd figured out early on that, even without recording the calls, it wouldn't take much for someone at her level to recognize the similarities to 'David's' voice if Jimmy made both sets of calls. My speech pattern and tone are significantly different than Jimmy's, even though I'm using his vocal cords. She had no problem figuring out who it was. The first time one of us talked to her, it had been Jimmy, but there was a significant time gap before David Malcolm came on the scene, so it was unlikely she would put the two together. Especially considering she had been sound asleep when the call came in.

She had no trouble figuring out who was calling.

"So it was you?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, "but you shouldn't have any trouble convicting him this time, even without the video."

"Video?" she asked. "What video?"

"He has cameras all through the apartment. The video, along with a lot of other stuff, is stored on that computer they found. One word of caution: don't let anyone try to crack the password; if they do and screw up, you'll lose everything – not that that would be a bad thing, but the defense may try to claim you destroyed evidence that would clear Bastion. Just get it somewhere safe and keep everyone away from it. If things go the wrong way, and you need the video, I'll get you the password."

"Who are you?" she asked. I knew she wasn't looking for an actual name. "Who are you with? You seem to have connections I can only dream of."

If she only knew.

"How the hell can you know his password?"

I let the silence stretch out until she decided to move on.

"There's no chance they're going to find evidence that someone's been in his apartment, is there? You'd have to have been inside to know about that stuff. There's no way they're going to find evidence suggesting... ?"

"No," I said, cutting her off. "They are going to find evidence; there is DNA all over that place; most of the male stuff will be Bastion or the board members; most of the female will be unidentified unless the parents had the girls put in a kidnapping database somewhere, which, all things considered, I doubt very seriously. Speaking of the girls, how soon can you get the girl back from the Middle East?"

"I'll look into it," she said. "If all goes well and there are no complications, maybe a week at the outside. Why?"

"Do you need a reason?" I asked, but then didn't give her time to answer. "I think she's been in hell too long already, and, now that it's safe, I want her home where she belongs as quickly as possible. And I want to see the look on Bastion's face when she walks into the courtroom. If she wants to, that is; she may not. Even if she does, it may be a while before she's ready to confront him like that. But as much as possible I want Bastion to see it all fall apart, one piece at a time. When it's safe, I'm going to have David take Phoebe in, if she wants to go."

"I figured you had her stashed away somewhere," she said, "but don't you think that's a little much for girl her age? Why put her through it?"

"I want her to know that he is going to face justice for what he did to her family. She doesn't need to stay for testimony or evidence, but I want her to know he didn't get away with it."

"And how do you propose to do that? We can't prove he had anything to do with that family's death. Last time I checked, she was still the primary suspect. You bring her into Nevada and she's going to be questioned."

"That's not a problem," I said. "We can prove she was already out of state before the fire was set. In a truly ironic twist of justice, Bastion hired David to find her a while back."

She chuckled. "You have got to be kidding."

"Ask him yourself," I said. "Really freaked him out when it happened."

"You seem to rely on him pretty heavily for such a young man."

"He's proven himself more than competent for the jobs I've sent him."

"Can I ask where you found him?"

"You can ask," I said.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Would you mind sharing him when he's not busy?"

"David's a free agent, but I'll warn you up front, a lot of the anonymity I enjoy was his idea. He didn't want to be able to identify me. You won't have that luxury, and if you're thinking that working for you means he'll share more information, you're going to be disappointed."

"I figured as much. So what do I call you? I don't expect you to tell me your name, but it gets old referring to you as 'the voice'."

"Justin."

"Justin?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know; Justin Case."

"Got it." I could almost see the eye roll.

"One thing, I haven't told David what's happened yet, did you?"

"You didn't talk to him? I assumed that's why you called. I called and asked if he'd heard from you. When he said no, I asked him to have you call me when he did. If you didn't talk to him, then how did you know I'd be up?"

"You didn't tell him, did you?" I asked, ignoring her question and putting a trace of concern in my voice. Wondering how I knew she would be up should keep her busy for a while. Being who she was, her first thoughts would probably be electronics or a mole in her organization. It was going to be a busy week for her staff, either way.

"No," she answered, "why don't you want him to know?"

"Come now Sandra; after their last conversation, you know Spencer is going to be wondering if he is involved. She may not look at him as a suspect, but she knows he was working on the problem, and we both know she called and told you he was after Bastion for me. I want her to tell him, so she can see his face. She won't believe he's not involved any other way. I was going to call him and tell him to stay away from the news until after he gets back. He'll suspect something has happened; probably already does if you called wanting to talk to me. As far as I know, there are not any other cases we're both working on."

"I don't know," she said innocently. "Why don't you email me your current case load, and I'll compare?"

"I'm still waiting for your team roster," I reminded her.

"Yeah," she said. Her tone made it clear I shouldn't hold my breath. "So, what happens now?"

"I did my part, now the fun starts. One suggestion..."

"What's that?"

"Try to keep the DA focused on the murders. He's going to want to make a – pardon the expression – federal case out of this, but a lot of people stand to get hurt if he pushes too hard. Not all of them are innocents, but stopping the cancer doesn't do any good if the patient dies from the cure."

"I don't understand," she admitted.

"Yes, you do. Not all of it, but enough. This is the kind of case that will make a DA's career."

I'd picked that up in some books Allison had been reading one night when I slept over, and the author's explanation fit this scenario perfectly.

"This is one of those cases where the facts are sufficient, and the truth – the whole truth – is better off left alone. It'll make his career either way, but lives get destroyed the other way. Those girls have gone through enough without the sort of stigma this would bring. It's going to be hard enough on them already. If the truth – the whole truth – comes out..."

There was a pause as she digested what I was being very careful not to tell her.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Not at the moment; if you want to talk again later, let David know, and he can pass it along."

"Couldn't we just set up a time to talk again later?" she asked.

"I'm sure we could," I answered, "but could you resist the urge to try and get cute with the call?"

"Probably not," she admitted.

"One last thing," I said before she hung up. "If Bastion offers to open the computer, don't let him try more than twice in one day, and if he hasn't got it open by the second day, quit and tell David, and I'll get you that password."

Jimmy

It wasn't easy, but I managed to not think about what was up – much – all the next day and night. Of course the girls were all doing their best to keep me distracted. A big part of that distraction was discussing what had happened the night before. After a few minutes discussion, Allison decided the best way to get a handle on it was to slip over to dream space and have Lizzy project what she had seen in a way that allowed all of us – but, most importantly, her – to see it all. At first I was afraid that I was going to be forced to endure what amounted to a porno starring Amber and me, but, for this, we were incidental at best – just two body shaped outlines providing a backdrop for the sheets, waves, and currents of energy that Allison was interested in. The fact that those energies had all but blinded Lizzy at times made it extremely difficult for her to present them for Allison to study. Still, since it was a dream environment, she had more options; one of which was to substitute colors for intensities. While this did make the whole thing easier to deal with, there were still whole sections that we couldn't do anything with because, for her, it had been one big blur.

The initial flare seemed of particular interest to Allison, and she had Lizzy run it several times in slow motion and using ever wider arrays of colors and shadings to illustrate what was happening. After about the third run-through, I got bored and left, telling them to call me if they needed anything.

Allison

Wow! Every time I get to experience even a glimpse inside Lizzy's world, it just blows me away. The first time had been when we were playing with the little power balls Jimmy and Christine made, and – while it was fun and exciting – it was nothing compared to stepping into her dream and having her project the world as she sees it. But even that – as amazing as it was – paled in comparison to an event like this. Ever since I came up with this energy theory, I've known that I was going to be limited in what I could do until such time as I could get Lizzy to help me – or I got lucky and found a way to see it myself. Seeing it first-hand would no doubt be better, but this was a great option! Watching the flow of the energy as it moved around between the three – Jimmy, Jamie, and Angela – had been amazing. Ending up with more questions than answers was just something that I took for granted by now.

Do you dream in slow-motion? Me either. Unfortunately, neither did Lizzy. Slowing the dream down to the point that we could see what was really happening was a long process. Essentially, Lizzy had to replay it, over and over, slowing it further each time to allow more of the details to fill themselves in. Day to day, you just don't realize – probably can't even comprehend – how much information your our mind captures, processes, and stores, and not just general images, but every tiny detail. It doesn't keep it all, not for long anyway; we train our minds to filter out what is unimportant. The most important filter is generally emotion. Strong emotional moments are captured much more thoroughly than say, the time you spent shampooing your hair. Unless, of course, you have help that is, but then, that sort of makes my point. Night time is when your mind does a lot of its processing – sifting through the day's events to decide what to keep.

It took several attempts to get the scene to play out in super-slow motion. Along the way, Lizzy replaced the images of raw energy with a series of graduated colors, in hopes that I would be better able to understand what I was seeing. Eventually, we reached a point where the colors varied themselves as the intensities changed, and we had a pretty good picture of what was happening.

Lizzy's description of the scene looking like an old movie self-destructing was right on. The burn had started the instant Angela's lips – with Jamie firmly attached to them – came in contact with Jimmy's.

"Picture a balloon filled with something really really flammable – not a little kids balloon, but one of those three foot, heavy duty balloons that they use for weather tests – the kind that you have to shoot with something high-powered – instead of just poking with a needle – to pop, and even then it doesn't burst, but just leaks. Now hook it to a pressurized gas line that is pumping fuel into it faster than the escaping fuel can burn. Eventually, you will reach a point where the heat of the escaping fuel being ignited so close to the surface weakens it, and the ever increasing pressure causes it to tear more, until finally it ruptures, and the suddenly released fuel goes up in a huge fireball." She paused to let the visual set in. "Now picture that happening in an enclosed space."

Well, this was like two enclosed spaces – spaces that were connected at several points. In this case, it was points like lips, fingertips, and lets not forget Angela's points against Jimmy's chest. Now picture them as just two 'people-shaped' balloons, full of more fuel, or better yet, oxygen, and those connection points are openings to the central chamber where the fuel has been escaping. It wouldn't take much for the heat and pressure to force it's way to the oxygen, and then...

I'm not sure exactly what I expected to see. I just had this hazy idea of Jimmy's energy flaring up when it hit Jamie's, and ... actually I'm not sure what I expected after that either, but somehow the reaction would cause a feedback of sorts, and Jamie would get caught in the surge, overwhelming and disorienting her. Not able to fully absorb the phenomenon, she would bleed the excess energy into her host where, presumably, it would linger long enough to nurture Jimmy's small contribution to the procreative process while it did its job.

That much of the theory seemed to hold up pretty well, although I hadn't expected to see Angela's Pattern stretch – not exactly the right word, but as close as Lizzy could come – as it received the overflow. The real question – and in my mind it was a pretty critical one – wasn't what caused the flare, which was pretty obviously the intersection of their fields. No, the real question was: where did the energy in the surge come from? Like I said, we watched it several times, and it didn't start in either of their fields, but at the point of intersection, or, more specifically, the point of overlap. On a secondary note, why hadn't this happened more often? If it was the intersection of their fields outside of Jimmy's body, then why didn't it happen every time he touched one of us with Jamie inside? For that matter, why didn't they explode when Jamie came back to him? Especially now, when she was bringing all that 'unburned fuel' back into him? What was staying behind that caused such unbridled lust the second he touched his partner again? As usual, seeing what was happening – while enlightening – left us with more questions than we started with, and I was once again left wondering what the hell was going on?

"Allison, don't stress yourself out over this," Angela said. "You're the smartest person I know, but this was only the first experiment. No one expects you to have all the answers the first time." She grew a Cheshire grin and added, "And don't worry; I'll be happy to help out when you're ready to try again."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Slut!"

Her grin got even bigger, and she replied, "Jealous!"

It's hard to argue with truth, and there was a part of me that really wished it could have been me again. I stuck my tongue out at her and tried to get back to more practical arguments.

"I wish I had your confidence," I said. "I can't even see this shit without Lizzy's help; Jimmy doesn't feel any of it – the energy shifts, that is – and the lucky girl goes into a mind-numbing lust as soon as it starts, and doesn't remember anything besides that she couldn't get enough. What makes you so sure I'm going to be able to figure this all out?"

She hesitated, looking down and biting her lip as if she were afraid to answer. Shit! She knew. I don't know when, but chances were – somewhere along the line – she had figured out the rest too.

"It's okay," I said. "You can say it. Because Jimmy made me smarter; that is what you're trying not to say, isn't it? It's okay, Angels; I figured that out a long time ago."

"That's not true," Lizzy said. "I wish you guys would stop saying that. Jimmy isn't changing you. He may be responsible for what's been happening, but he's not causing it. He didn't make you Amber; he didn't make Christine like girls. He doesn't change who people are or what they can do."

"I know," she said, nodding her agreement. "It's more like he opens doors and let's things happen."

"Yes," Lizzy said, "and how far the door opens depends on how important he thinks it is. Look at Christine; he wanted her to fit in, but he was worried about rushing her, so the change took longer." She moved and ran her fingers through Angela's hair, combing it gently, the movement ending with her hand cupping Angie's face. "Amber, on the other hand ... Angela, he knew that what you were going through was killing you, and he desperately wanted you to get better. The thought of losing you after you fought so hard ... Everyone was amazed at how fast you progressed."

"And, at the same time," I added, taking over the commentary, "he opened a door in himself so that he could become what you needed. Trust me – I grew up with him; before this all started, he would never have even conceived of the kind of relationship you have. Of course, by then he had help, so of course it went faster."

"What do you mean he had help?" Lizzy asked. "You mean Brandiy?"

"She means you, silly," Angela said, and then she grabbed her by the face and planted a fast, sloppy, kiss right on her mouth. "If you hadn't been there to unlock the door, he wouldn't have been able to open it."

"Huh?" was all Lizzy could say.

"Don't you get it?" Angie went on. "Allison said it the first night Widget crossed over. Three days on the road with you had changed Christine's pattern. Allison was always smart, but it wasn't until you came on the scene that she really started to spike. Look how fast she came up with this whole energy theory, and how right she's been about everything. I'm surprised she sleeps at all with all the stuff that must be going on up there twenty-four-seven." She turned to look at me. "I'll bet you're smoking your classes, aren't you?"

Like I said, you can't argue with the truth, and I'd already been down this road. The surprising thing to me was that Lizzy hadn't figured out her part yet.

"And you're okay with all this?" I asked Angie. I was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, but you never know how someone is going to react to news like this.

"Duh!" she said.

It had been so long since I had spent any real time with Angela – instead of Amber – that I was taken a little aback by her tone, but, at the same time, I was making a mental note that I really needed to spend more time with her this way.

"Okay with it?" she continued. "Gee, let me think: alone, miserable, contemplating suicide; versus happy, whole, and surrounded by people who love me – all of me. Okay doesn't begin to describe how down with this I am!"

Rhetorical is good.

"So," Lizzy said, breaking the moment and putting us back on track. "Did we learn anything about what we talked about before?"

I shook my head. "Nothing specific, but I think maybe I was half right. Jamie is necessary, just not the way I expected, and I don't think you'll need her at all. From what we saw, she acted as a catalyst, or key, opening the way for that massive surge of energy. To use Angie's analogy, she unlocked something. I think if you'd been able to watch the whole thing, you might have seen it happen. And as far as the stretching goes ... somewhere in there – probably while things were too bright – something changed in Angela's pattern; a modification was made that allowed Jamie to use her like an extra battery, and shift some of the energy into her. That's what caused her pattern to, as you described it, stretch. Then when Jamie goes back to Jimmy, she takes all that energy with her, but it's still too much for her to hold, and she's sort of drunk on it. Meanwhile, Angela's modified pattern – which was stretched to accommodate all that extra energy – is now just a big empty space. Worse, when Jamie left and took all that energy with her, it left a vacuum behind.

"So now you have Jimmy and Jamie, brimming over with all this energy, and Angela with this big hollow space just begging for something to fill it ... and as soon as Jimmy touches her again, the energy starts flowing back."

"That's almost scary," Angela said. "What would have happened if we hadn't, you know, done it afterward? I mean ... Actually, I have no idea what I mean, but wouldn't it be dangerous for both of us? I mean, I'm all stretched and empty – which is shockingly similar to how certain other parts feel now – and he's got all that energy built up with no where to go..."

"Sounds like the ultimate case of blue balls, doesn't it?" Lizzy giggled. "What do you think, Allison?"

"I don't know," I admitted with a shrug, "but I can attest to the stretched and empty feeling she's talking about, not to mention sore."

"Oh, but what an ache!" Angela said in breathy sigh.

"Alright," Lizzy said, "you two need to stop that. You're making me jealous. After all, he's my fiancé."

"True," I said. "So as I was saying: as soon as the lucky girl gets back in the act, the energy – not all of it, but a lot, flows back and fills up the spaces that got stretched, and, until they are full – or maybe just until they reach a balance – she can't get enough of Jimmy." I looked back at Lizzy, "You tell me... , did it appear to be trying to balance the pressure or just make a mad rush back in? And, what do you see now; has it lingered?"

"Balance, I think," Lizzy said, "but it didn't stop moving even when they evened out. After that it just seemed like it was swirling back and forth between them. At least that was what I was seeing, I'm not sure if you could tell from the replay though. Anyway, it's mostly gone now, and her pattern is 'shrinking' as it leaves, so it seems to be just a temporary effect ... but I still can't see what is different in the pattern that allows the energy to remain. It looks like her pattern should be back to normal size again before too long."