Devil's Advocate (The X-Files: Origins #2)(36)

It was Tisa who broke the silence.

“Extrasensory perception is a valid aspect of science,” she said in a voice that was measured and precise. “It’s been studied by the top universities all over the world. It’s studied by the military. Ours and everyone’s.”

“It’s creepy,” said Sylvia, “but it’s also pretty cool. I saw a guy on TV just last week, on one of the talk shows. I forget his name. The Stupendous something-or-other. Doesn’t matter. They said that he’s been helping police find the bodies of murder victims. So … the police must think there’s something to all this.”

Jerry cleared his throat. “They said that all the teens who died were taking drugs and died in single-car accidents.”

“I don’t believe that,” said Dana.

He stared at her with his huge frog eyes. “It’s a statistical improbability for that to happen in a town this small. Even taking into account the number of people in the whole county, the numbers won’t work.”

Dana gaped. “Wait, so you guys believe me?”

Sylvia gave her a huge smile. “Ethan believes you. You knew things about Maisie that you couldn’t have known unless you’d met her.”

“And you said you never met her,” said Jerry, nodding.

“So,” said Tisa, “unless you are a tremendous liar—and by tremendous I mean tremendously good at it—then, yes, you experienced some kind of psychic phenomenon.”

Dana felt a massive weight lean and fall off her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said.

But Tisa held up a finger. “The problem is,” she said, “that we don’t have enough information to form any kind of useful theory.”

“Nope,” agreed Jerry.

“Not a chance,” said Sylvia.

“Swell,” said Dana. She turned to Ethan. “Uncle Frank?”

He looked pained, but he nodded. “Uncle Frank.”





CHAPTER 34

Hale Residence

1:19 P.M.

“You’re sure he won’t walk in on us?” asked Dana as she followed Ethan onto his front porch. There were no cars in the driveway or on the street. The house was an old, weathered A-frame with a postage-stamp front lawn that was completely dominated by a gnarled elm that looked like something out of a Tolkien novel.

Ethan fished a ring of keys from the bottom of his book bag and fitted one into the heavy lock on the front door. “Not a chance,” he said. “Uncle Frank’s working double-shift today because of Todd Harris, and he usually goes out with his partner to the diner on the highway. It’s where the local deputies and some of the state troopers hang out.” He paused, then added, “Actually, I’m kind of surprised he wasn’t at school today. Maybe the sheriff is really going with this as drugs, booze, and bad driving and not buying into anything deliberate like murder.”

He opened the door and stood aside to let her enter. A gentleman, thought Dana. Wow. I thought they were extinct. It was a line cribbed from her mother.

“You said your mom was gone. Does that mean your parents are divorced?”

A cloud seemed to pass in front of Ethan’s face. “My, ah, mom died when I was four.”

“Oh … I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really remember her much. She was sick for a couple of years. Cancer. So I never got to spend a lot of time with her.”

Dana touched his arm. “That’s awful.”

“It’s ancient history,” he said in a way that clearly showed that it wasn’t. Not to him. Ethan closed the door and tossed his keys into a dish on a side table. The living room was small and dark, with the shades down and curtains pulled across. For a house of bachelors, there was no obvious clutter or dust, and she guessed that this was more Ethan’s doing than anyone’s. He was a very neat and tidy guy. The furniture was the kind bought at the big chain department stores. Same for the landscape paintings on the wall. They were of the kind probably sold already framed. No vases of flowers, no knickknacks, no personal touches.

“How’s your dad?”

Ethan sighed. “Dad’s never around, like I said. He’s always working. He works for the government, but he can’t talk about it. Not that he’s ever around to talk about it. Uncle Frank says that Dad was different before Mom died, but that’s all I’ve ever known, y’know? There’s that expression, ‘married to his job’? That’s Dad. Uncle Frank did more to raise me.”

And you raised yourself, thought Dana. Did a good job, too.

“My dad can be pretty distant, too,” she said.

“I heard,” said Ethan. “Navy captain, right? Does he have his own ship?”

“Not at the moment. He did when we were in San Diego, but they moved him here for some kind of special advanced naval warfare training thing. He’s teaching classes, but he can’t talk about anything he does, either. He’s gone a lot, too, and when he’s home he can be really intense. Snaps at Mom, treats Melissa, Charlie, and me like we’re sailors who don’t know how to swab a deck. Everyone has to be A.J. Squared Away.”

“Sounds rough.”

She shrugged. “Only one of us who doesn’t get stepped on by him is my oldest brother, Bill, who joined the navy. He wants to be exactly like Dad.”