Racing the Light (Elvis Cole #19; Joe Pike #8)(48)

I glanced at Wendy and Corbin.

“We should talk about Josh. I’ve learned things you should know.”

Corbin seemed unsteady. He did a little sidestep stagger, as if he’d lost his balance, and clutched Wendy’s arm.

“He doesn’t care about the damned bees, Adele. Come away from there.”

Adele tugged me closer to better see, or maybe to avoid the news about her son.

“Singly, a bee responds to pheromones, temperature, what have you, with behaviors preset in her neural net, like commands in a software program, yes? When she encounters new stimuli, she can learn, but her software limits the complexity of her responses. Make sense?”

She was the professor at Stanford again and I was her student.

“Sure.”

Corbin said, “Adele, did you take your medication? Wendy, did she take it?”

Adele stared into the hive.

“But when the girls and the drones and the queen come together, something changes. A swarm intelligence emerges and the swarm is capable of much more complex behavior.”

She covered the hive and considered me.

“Think of them as tiny machines. Imagine if we could alter their software so the swarm could carry out even more complicated tasks. Drones wouldn’t have to be built, would they? We could grow them.”

I looked from Adele to Corbin and back to Adele. I wondered if the tasks she imagined included millions of wasps swarming a battlefield. Here they come, bro, pass the Raid.

I said, “Josh was involved with a woman named Rachel Bohlen. Ms. Bohlen is dead. She was murdered.”

Corbin’s face shriveled into something lined as a walnut.

“Did Josh kill her? Is he a murderer now?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible, but I don’t think so.”

Adele showed no reaction, as if we were discussing his shoe size.

“Joshua hasn’t killed anyone. Where is he?”

“He was in Los Angeles two days ago. I don’t know where he is now.”

Adele seemed surprised.

“He didn’t go to Nevada?”

Corbin’s nostrils flared and he gripped Wendy’s arm again.

“Of course he did, Adele. He’s with the damned aliens.”

She painted him with an icy glare.

“You would know.”

I interrupted.

“Adele, listen. Bohlen’s neighbors saw Josh at her apartment and heard them argue. Her apartment was ransacked. As soon as the police identify Josh, he’ll be named as a suspect. You need to prepare yourself.”

I looked at Corbin and Wendy.

“All of you.”

Wendy said, “Why did Josh search her apartment?”

“I don’t believe he did. Other people are looking for him besides me.”

Corbin glared at Adele.

“My lord, how many people did you hire?”

I pushed ahead over them.

“Do you know the name Chow Wan Li?”

Corbin flicked his hand, like waving away a bee.

“Why should I?”

“He’s a Chinese national from the People’s Republic. He runs a company called the Crystal Future Hospitality Group. They own hotels.”

“What does this have to do with Josh? Did he leave without paying his bill?”

“People in his employ have been watching Josh’s bungalow. They’ve entered his bungalow at least twice and planted surveillance equipment known to be used by Chinese intelligence agencies.”

Kurt immediately turned away, touched his earpiece, and spoke in low tones.

Wendy said, “How do you know this, Cole?”

I ignored her and spoke to the Schumachers.

“You were involved with classified projects for the government.”

Corbin flicked his hand again and shook his head.

“Absurd. Absolutely untrue. Wendy!”

I talked over him.

“If they were spying on Josh, is it possible they learned something they shouldn’t know? About you or your work?”

The color drained from Adele’s face. Her skin grew splotchy and her eyelids fluttered.

Wendy said, “That’s it, Cole. We’re done.”

“If they have Josh, they’ll use him. If you know anything that will help me find him, tell me now.”

Corbin shouted, “Wendy!”

Corbin threw an arm around Adele and staggered toward the house.

Wendy stepped between us like a blocking back.

“Cole, we have to take care of her. Go.”

Wendy herded me toward the gate.

“Who are these people?”

“His parents. Do your job. Find their son.”

She muscled me harder.

“How’d you know I was making tacos?”

Wendy said, “Kurt!”

Kurt trampled through a bed of gladioli and added his weight. They shoved me past the guesthouse.

“Did you send drones to my home?”

Wendy said, “Find him.”

“To my home?”

“Find him.”

“Were those your drones?”

Wendy and Kurt shoved me through the gate into the driveway. We stood there, me on the drive, them in the yard, sucking gas as we stared at each other.

Wendy’s eyes turned sad.