Ground Zero

“And found no source for the voices, I take it.”

“Right. That was chalked up to an acoustic trick that allowed them to hear the voices of other workers elsewhere in the wreckage.”

“And you don’t buy that?”

Of course she wouldn’t. Weezy always seemed to have an alternate explanation for everything that happened. But she surprised him.

“Again, I don’t know. What I do know is that Ernest Goren survived the cave-in unscathed. Physically, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came out of the wreckage a mental basket case. He’d had a complete breakdown. When they asked him what happened down there, he just spewed word salad. His condition was chalked up to shock at seeing his friends get crushed.”

“But you’ve got a better explanation.”

Now the conspiracy.

“It’s possible he was faking to cover up something, but I think it was real. I think he saw something down there that blew his circuits.”

“That only happens in Lovecraft stories and B movies.”

“He was fifty-two years old at the time with a wife, a married daughter, and a grandson. His only known quirk was a belief in flying saucers, and not just the usual theories. He thought they came from inside the Earth. He was a member of SESOUP and—”

Jack shook his head. “Ah, yes. The Society for the Exposure of Secret Organizations and Unacknowledged Phenomena.”

She leaned forward to look at him. “You know them?”

“Well. Too well, in fact. I attended their convention at the Clinton Hotel last year.”

And it damn near killed me.

“You did? Are you into that stuff?”

“No. I was working—a missing-person problem.”

“Then you might have met him. Because he was there too.”

“I met a lot of people.”

He remembered a guy showing him a photo of the North Pole taken from space, and pointing out a shadow he claimed was the opening where the saucers entered and exited the center of the Earth. That might have been him.

A question leaped to mind.

“How do you know so much about him?”

“Kevin got hold of the records of the police investigation after Goren’s disappearance.”

“Disappearance. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

He found a spot in an open area of the parking lot and watched the cars that entered after them. He’d seen no sign of a tail from Brooklyn but didn’t want to take any chances.

“His doctors seemed convinced he’d had some sort of break with reality. They kept him for almost a week, medicated him, and sent him home. One day, not too long after, his house burned down. His wife died in the fire but no one could find a trace of him. He hasn’t been seen since.”

“He torched his house?”

“That’s what the police think. And that’s the way it looks. Torched his house, burning his wife alive. Then he emptied his bank account—”

Jack held up a hand. “After the fire?”

“First thing the next morning.”

“That tells me he hadn’t pla

“Not if he wasn’t in his right mind. Cleaned out his account and took off for parts unknown.”

“But you found him in L.A.”

“And Kevin did. Goren keeps in touch with his daughter via e-mail. Kevin—”

“Whoa. Didn’t you just say he burned her mother alive? Wouldn’t she be just a little ticked?”

“You’d think so. Kevin uploaded a keystroke logger into her computer through her home Wi-Fi network.”

Jack didn’t know much about computers, but he could suss out what that did.

“So he could see whatever she typed?”

“Right. He used it to get Alice’s e-mail username and password. After that he could log into her account from anywhere in the world and see what she was sending and receiving. She and her dad are pretty friendly. So either he managed to convince her it wasn’t his fault—crazy, you know—or she was in on it for some reason. We don’t know. How he smoothed it over is lost in the past. But Kevin tracked him to L.A. through some of the comments he made in the mails.”

“And you want me to fly out there and talk to him.”

“Please?”

Jack rubbed his eyes. “Brother.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to fly.”

The flying didn’t bother him—he’d done it only once. A cakewalk. He’d had bumpier bus rides. But getting through security was a hairy process for a guy who didn’t exist.

Under normal circumstances, all he should need were his John Tyleski driver’s license and credit card. That would be enough for ninety-nine percent of the zillion flights going in and out of airports every day.

But the what-ifs bothered him. He’d stayed alive and well and free by paying attention to the what-ifs.

Like what if there’s an incident on a plane and airport security or Homeland Security starts backgrounding the passenger list?

John Tyleski has an excellent credit history—never once late paying his MasterCard bill—and an unblemished driving record. But his address is a mailbox. He doesn’t seem to live anywhere, and he’s never filed a tax form of any kind—ever. In fact, there’s no record of his existence until a few years ago.

John Tyleski would become a person of interest—big time.

“No, flying’s cool. I just . . .”

Just what? He had nothing else going on at the moment. Gia and Vicky would be fine without him for a few days. And if Weezy thought it was that important, he shouldn’t blow her off. She’d been proven right too often to be dismissed.

He’d have to bite the bullet—and hope it didn’t go off in his mouth.

“Okay. I’ll go. How do I find him?”

“We don’t have his home address—”

“Then how—?”

“—but we have a pretty good idea of where he works.”

Eddie had said he’d be driving a black Toyota Camry. One was pulling into the lot now.

“There’s Eddie,” Jack said as he recognized the man behind the wheel.

He lowered his window and stuck his arm out. The Camry turned his way.

Weezy shifted in her seat to face him, her expression earnest. “Can you leave tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Is it that urgent?”

“His daughter’s going out to visit him tomorrow—Continental flight 1159. Goren is going to meet her at LAX. I thought maybe you could get on the same plane. I mean, that’s what I’d do if I were going.”

Not a bad plan.

“Okay. I’ll make a reservation when I get home. But I’ll need more info.”

“I’ll meet you at the airport before your flight. Kevin e-mailed me all the details, including a photo of the daughter. I’ll decrypt everything and go over it with you then.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Jack.”

She gave him a quick hug, then she was out of the car and bustling toward the Camry. When she was inside they both waved and took off.

Jack watched them go, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be following. He’d taken note of the cars that had pulled into the service area during the first five minutes after they’d arrived. He’d watched them do their business and pull away. None had stayed. No one pulled out and followed Eddie.

Jack sat and thought about L.A., and how he knew no one out there and even less about the place. But Abe would. Abe could set him up with some iron while he was out there.

And who knew? Maybe he’d be discovered and start a new career as a movie star.

Or not.