“There won’t be any more light therapy today, Carl,” the orderly said. “Dr. Loring is the only one who gives you the treatments. He’s not here.”

“I don’t like Dr. Loring. He’s one of the monsters, too.”

The pair vanished down the corridor.

“Don’t mind Carl,” Ralph said. “The poor guy is delusional. He was self-medicating with street drugs when he was brought to us.”

Sierra looked at Ralph. “Carl is one of Dr. Loring’s patients, I take it?”

“Yeah.” Ralph crossed the lobby and opened the door. “Loring’s got some theories about using light along with drugs as therapy.”

North slipped him a card. “We’ve got a lot of questions about Loring. If you feel like answering a few, call the number on this card. I’ll meet you anywhere you choose. My client is willing to pay for information.”

“You mean the woman named Marge?” Ralph snorted. “I know who she is. She doesn’t have a dime to her name. She was living on the streets of Seattle when she was picked up and brought here.”

“Marge just came into a large inheritance,” North said. “Trust me, money is not an object.”

Ralph scowled. “What’s this about Marge getting an inheritance? And what’s that got to do with Dr. Loring?”

“Sorry,” North said. “Can’t discuss the details. Client confidentiality. I’m sure you understand. But if you want to chat about Delbridge Loring, be sure to get in touch. We’ll be staying in town tonight.”

He followed Sierra outside. The door closed behind them. The sound of heavy bolts sliding into place could be heard. Neither of them spoke until they were on the other side of the big gates.

“Ralph knows who Marge is,” Sierra observed.

“Garraway knows, too. But he’s not concerned with Marge’s welfare. Loring is the one he’s worried about.”

They got back into the SUV. North fired up the engine and drove out of the parking lot.

“Are we really going to spend the night in town instead of driving back to Seattle?” Sierra asked.

“Yes,” North said.

“Because you expect Ralph to call?”

“That would definitely be a plus,” North said. “But the main reason we’re staying overnight is so that I can get a look inside Loring’s house.”

“Putting aside the pesky legalities of breaking and entering, I would like to point out that we have no idea where Loring lives.”

“It’s a small town, Sierra. Everyone in the area will know where Loring lives. What’s more, he’s not from around here. He’s an outsider working at the psychiatric hospital a few miles up the road.”

“So?”

“The locals won’t feel any obligation to protect him. Someone will be happy to tell us where he lives.”

Sierra sat quietly for a while, watching the narrow road that wound through the trees.

“That patient, Carl, could see our auras,” she said at last.

“Yes.”

“He said our energy fields looked like Loring’s. Different colors but equally strong.”

“Which tells us something very interesting about Loring,” North said. “He’s got some high-end talent.”