“Maybe it is,” Quentin agreed.

—

FINN LOOKED ACROSS his desk at Garett Cavendish, one of his lead deputies, frowning slightly. “Absolutely nothing?”

“Still no sign of Cole Ainsworth, and we’ve talked to pretty much everybody who knows him. If he’s not missing, he’s sure as hell well hidden. And I don’t know why he’d be hiding.”

“Are you getting anything with your Talent?”

Garett was wearing a frown of his own that did nothing to diminish the usual Cavendish good looks. “When I drop my shields, it’s like being hit with white noise. Almost deafening. And painful. I can barely sense the FBI telepaths—three of them, right?—maybe because their shields are different from ours. Can’t pick up their thoughts, but I could probably look at a map of the valley and tell you where they are right now.”

“But nothing from the other Cavendish telepaths?”

“No. It’s like we figured, Finn. Our shields do a damned good job of hiding us even from each other. Especially from each other. I hate to say it, but if Aylia Blackwood and the FBI are right about a killer hunting here, he almost has to be one of us.”

“Or somebody with no Talents at all.”

“Maybe. And maybe this energy we can all feel has something to do with how someone could be killing, torturing someone, and none of us can sense it, shields or no shields.” He shook his head slightly. “I hope the agents can function better than we can.”

“So do I. When they come back in, I’m hoping they can tell us something positive. How about our search teams?”

“Nothing so far. And we won’t be able to cover much more territory today. I’ll get our people out tomorrow at first light, but . . . it’s going to take time to search the slopes. And from what the agent got, time is something we don’t have much of, not if a victim is being tortured.”

“I know. And we still have to keep up our regular patrols here in town.” Finn shook his head. “We can only do what we can do.”

Garett nodded.

Finn glanced at the clock on one wall of his office, estimating how much longer the search teams and his own people could expect to continue the search today. Not long.

“Okay. Everybody comes back in at dark to get patrolling assignments. I want us out and visible in town tonight, at least until people have settled in for good.”

“That’s a lot of overtime.”

“Yeah. And I don’t know how long it’ll be necessary.”

“Until we find the bastard,” Garett said.

SEVEN

Miranda, standing considerably less than a quarter of the way up the slope of the most northern of the mountains surrounding Salem, looked down across most of the valley to the town a fair distance away and absently listened to Bishop’s side of the conversation as he talked on the sat phone.

“. . . no victim yet, but it’s only a matter of time before we start finding remains. I’d rather go ahead and get you on scene. A very good small hospital, especially for the size of the town, but they’ve never needed a coroner or medical examiner. Right, bring everything just in case. I’ll send the chopper for you first thing in the morning. The pilot will know where to set down here, just outside the valley. There’ll be a van waiting for you, as usual. Rooms in the same B and B where we’re staying; it’s very comfortable. Go there and check in as soon as you get here. Okay. See you tomorrow, Jill.”