The Dark Remains - Mark Anthony [179]
An electronic chime pierced the air. Deirdre and Farr stared at the pager that rested on the seat next to him.
He grabbed it.
“Is it them?” Deirdre said.
“It can’t be. It’s too soon. And I told them to call, not page.” He pressed a button, frowned. “I don’t recognize this telephone number.”
“What is it?”
“It’s 268-533-7128.”
“I don’t know it. Maybe whoever called entered it incorrectly by mistake. Can you see what phone number the call originated from?”
Farr pressed another button. “Yes.”
Deirdre fired up a small notebook computer. It was good to have something mundane to focus on. He read off both numbers, and she punched them in. Before coming to Denver, she had loaded a database of all Colorado phone numbers on the computer. Standard procedure. She started the search, then in a moment she had it.
“The number where the call originated belongs to an address in Denver. On West Colfax. It’s a business. Name is …” Her fingers froze on the keys. “Marji’s House of Mystery.”
Deirdre pushed aside the computer and grabbed a cell phone. “I’m calling her.” She punched the number, waited as it rang. And rang. She pressed a button and lowered the phone. “Marji’s not answering.”
“Nor will she,” he said softly. He had been bending close to the police radio. Now he turned up the volume.
“—that’s on West Colfax,” a sharp, disembodied voice spoke over static. “Denver Fire and Rescue just arrived. Right now we think one person is trapped in—”
More static. Farr turned down the volume, his brown eyes wide. Deirdre realized this was the first time she had ever seen him frightened.
“It’s her, isn’t it? Marji. She’s the one trapped inside. But maybe they’ll …”
Deirdre didn’t bother finishing. It didn’t take a message from the spirits to know that, just like in Brixton, no one would be coming out of that fire. Duratek didn’t work that way.
“They know.” Anger transmuted Farr’s dull expression. He slammed the seat with a fist. “Damn them, they know everything!”
“They must have heard us. At Marji’s. They must have followed us from the hotel and heard us talking there. Or maybe they had the place bugged. The police had been there, looking for—” A cold hand clamped around Deirdre’s heart. “Travis and Grace.”
Farr had already grabbed the cell phone. He dialed, then a moment later set the phone down. “It’s not turned on.” He laughed—a forlorn sound. “I told Grace to keep the phone turned off until it was time to call us. I didn’t want a wrong number ringing it while they were sneaking around the complex. I guess it’s a little late for worrying about that.”
“Now what?” Deirdre said.
Farr raised the phone. “I’m calling the Seekers. This is beyond us now. We may have to get law enforcement involved. Get the police there, on scene, just to keep anything from happening. Even Duratek can’t kidnap someone with the police standing watch—that’s just the kind of attention they can’t afford. We can sort out the mess later, even if it means having to pay a bond to get Travis and Grace out of jail. It’s not like the Seekers don’t have money and lawyers enough.”
Farr dialed. Deirdre hoped he was right. It was true that the Seekers had good lawyers. And if the police were involved, even Duratek would have to play by certain rules.
Farr spoke into the phone. “Yes, hello, it’s Farr. This is a crisis. You must get a message to the Philosophers immediately. We have lost control of—”
He stopped speaking. Then, slowly, he lowered the phone and switched it off.
Deirdre nearly screamed the words at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“They hung up.”
She dug her fingers into the seat. “Hung up?”
He looked up, visage weary. “Yes, hung up. It was Sasha. Once I spoke my name, she said she was sorry, that she couldn’t talk to me, that