Double Dose, page 18
In La Mesa, after presenting suitable identification to verify his Pendryness, he was allowed to purchase copies of both films on flash drives.
When Rhys asked the owner, a chubby, nerdy Asian named Nozawa, why his father’s disks could be played only on one machine, he explained that they might have been encoded for a different NTSC region or in PAL or SECAM format. Daley understood him about as well as she understood the parents in the Charlie Brown videos. She learned that the format on the flash drives would play on any computer with the proper software and that was enough for her.
Mr. Nozawa offered to sell them an all-region DVD player if they wanted to make a comparison but they passed, asking instead about a good place nearby for an early lunch. He recommended a Mexican restaurant down the street where they shared tacos and quesadillas.
As they were walking back to Rhys’s car, they passed a convenience store with the latest San Diego Union-Tribune on display in a rack out front. The headline and accompanying photo stopped Daley cold.
HORRORS HEALER FRAUD?
Below that was a grainy photo of Daley in the ECRMC parking lot standing outside her car with Billy Marks.
Daley’s heart clenched as she blurted, “Oh, no!”
“Hey, that looks like you,” Rhys said, stopping beside her.
“It is.”
No sense in denying it. Anyone who knew her could identify her from that photo.
He stared, wide-eyed. “You’re the mystery woman everyone’s been looking for?”
“Apparently, yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone to know.”
She grabbed the paper and opened to the story while Rhys peered over her shoulder.
Details were few. They’d yet to identify her at press time but her “companion”—Billy Marks—was well known to police as a career conman. The assumption was that if the mystery woman credited to the “miraculous” cures of the horrors—the significance of placing miraculous between quotation marks now wasn’t lost on Daley—was associated with a known grifter, the two of them must be working up a horrors-related scam.
She jammed the paper back into the rack and walked on.
Guilt by association. Great. Just great.
The Imperial Valley Press would have the same story and photo, no doubt. Her cover was completely blown.
Rhys caught up with her. “I don’t understand, Daley. You’ve got to explain this to me.”
How on Earth could she do that?
“Let’s wait till we’re on the road.”
She hoped that by the time they got back on the 8 she’d have an explanation, but she didn’t.
“First off,” Rhys said as they headed into the hills, “how do you know the conman in the photo?”
“His name is Billy Marks, some sort of a distant uncle on my father’s side, who I’m pretty sure murdered my father on the day I was born but no one can prove it.”
Rhys shook his head as if to clear it. “Wow. That is one loaded sentence.”
“Did I mention I hate him?”
“You didn’t have to. Your tone of voice pretty well carried the message. But if you hate him, why were you talking to him?”
“He won’t leave me alone. He recognized me last week in that front page photo and came looking for me.”
“Why?”
Here’s where things get dicey, she thought.
“He thinks I’m working a scam at the hospital.”
Rhys made a face. “A scam? Why would he think that?”
“Because his family—my father’s family—that’s how they live. They’re all grifters. He thought I was setting up a scam with the horrors and he wanted me to butt out because he’s claimed that for himself.”
“Really? Ripping off horrors victims? How’s he going to do that?”
“Don’t know and don’t want to know.”
“But why would he come to you?”
“Because I was born into that family and left it to live with my Gram when I was thirteen. He wants me back in.”
Rhys shook his head. “I’m realizing there’s so much I don’t know about you.”
“I could say the same thing about you, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess so. We’re both going to learn something about my people when we watch the rest of the film.”
Good. The conversation was shifting away from her. She had to keep it moving.
“What do you think we’ll see?”
Rhys shrugged. “I can’t imagine what needs to be kept so secret, and frankly I’m a little scared. But my brother’s seen it, and if he can handle it, so can I. We’ll know soon enough, won’t we. But back to you…”
Oh, damn. She wished he’d drop this. But how could he?
“Everyone thinks the mystery woman—and that would be you—cured the horrors. Don’t think me crazy for asking this, but…did you?”
“No.”
Pard did.
“But why do they think it?”
“I don’t know. Can we drop this?” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her tone but didn’t think she succeeded.
“If you want. I’m just curious about how you got saddled with this healing thing, especially since your shop is named ‘Healerina.’ I can’t help wondering.”
Healerina…Pard had hated that name. Daley wished now that she’d listened to him.
“I guess it’s because they had these mysterious cures to explain and I was photographed just after they occurred.”
He was nodding. “I get it: the post hoc fallacy.”
“Well, I don’t. What does that mean?”
“I remember it from a logic course in college. It’s Latin. Post hoc, ergo propter hoc: ‘After this, therefore because of this.’ It means if B follows A, then A must have caused B. They saw you in the vicinity after the cures, so therefore you must have caused the cures. And the fact that they didn’t know who you were only made the fallacy more attractive.”
She nodded, seeing how easy it could be to fall into that trap. “Got it.”
“It’s how superstitions get started: ‘I was burning incense during the storm when my next door neighbor got hit by lightning and my place didn’t. I’ve burned incense during every storm since and have never been hit.’”
“Well, once the speculation started, I kept mum. You’ve already mentioned that my shop’s named ‘Healerina,’ and so if I identified myself I’d look like I was trying to cash in on the horrors.”
He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m proud of you for that. Integrity is a rare thing these days.”
The thought of all the people she’d conned since high school soured the quesadilla sitting in her stomach.
You have no idea, buddy boy. No idea at all.
50
“Doctor Heuser!” Hendry said. “We’ve got P waves!”
Becky Heuser looked up and immediately spotted them on the monitor.
“Imperial Zone again.”
She just happened to be in the data analysis room on the second-floor of Caltech’s South Mudd Building. The not-so-big room was lined with computer stations. Large black letters high on the long wall announced it as part of the Southern California Seismic Network.
Two giant monitors were suspended beneath the words. The left monitor displayed seismic maps of Southern California, the western US, and the world. The right showed twenty or so feeds from seismic sensors set up all over the southern end of the state. The overall effect was like an EEG. A steady, staticky pattern was the rule, but now some were showing P waves—the faster compressive waves that precede the damaging S waves.
Her research assistant Mark Hendry was nodding. “The Elsinore fault.”
“Did you notice any of those sine waves we saw before?”
“Nope.”
Damn. The last two quakes from that area had been preceded by a weird sine-wave configuration she hadn’t been able to trace or identify. All she knew was that it originated in the lower Imperial Valley.
“All right,” she said, “issue a ShakeAlert.”
“Will do.”
The ShakeAlert Early Warning System gave people a heads-up to prepare for a quake. If they’d downloaded the MyShake app, their phones would let them know to get under a table or inside a door frame, or head for an exit before the building started shaking.
This didn’t look major at all. But she wished she could get a line on those mysterious sine waves.
51
Daley wasn’t sure what to expect on her return to Nespodee Springs, but she hadn’t expected a sheriff’s unit parked outside the shop. Sam Alvarez stepped out as Rhys pulled in next to it.
He touched the brim of his Stetson. “Morning, Daley. I suppose you’ve seen the papers.”
“Yeah, Sam.” She stepped out and leaned against the Highlander. “I have. I know it doesn’t look good, but there’s a simple explanation.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Daley. Not now, not ever. I told you: You have a friend for life.”
Daley felt her throat tighten. A friend for life…she had a feeling she’d need every friend she could find.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Rhys had come around the front of the car by then and introduced himself.
Sam turned back to Daley. “There are, however, some people at the medical center who have some questions.”
“I’m sure they do.”
“Who in particular?” Rhys said.
“Doctor Milton. He’s chief of medicine.”
Daley nodded. “Saw his press conference. What’s he want to know?”
Sam’s lips twisted. “He didn’t share. But he’s a good guy. You’ve been identified from the parking lot photos and he was wondering out loud how he could get hold of you. I told him I knew where I could find you and I’d pass on his request.”
“Request for what? He wants to call me?”
“He’d like a face-to-face.”
“Ohhh, I don’t know about that.”
“I don’t either,” Rhys said. “Sounds like some sort of inquisition.”
Daley could sense him going into protective male mode. He definitely had her back and she loved him for it.
“I’d never allow that,” Sam said. “There’s nothing official about it. You don’t have to agree, but I think you should. Just to clear the air.”
“Of what?”
“Misconceptions, insinuations. That photo of you with a scam artist like Marks puts your reputation in danger of going down the tubes.”
Anger flashed. Not fair! “I never took an ounce of credit for those cures!”
“You know that and I know that, but the papers want it to be something else and you with Billy Marks makes it a juicy story that’ll sell copies. Showing up there could make it all go away.”
“I think he’s right,” Rhys said. “And I’ll go with you.”
She looked at him, impressed. “You will?”
“Damn right, I will. I’m not letting you go into the lion’s den alone. I’ll be right at your side to dazzle them with my Latin.” He winked. “You know—post hoc and all.”
“You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.”
Well, she had these two on her side. Sam because he thought she could work miracles and would wow them with her magic. Little did he know that the magic had deserted her. And Rhys…Rhys and she had something brewing. He was solid, and he believed in her. She sensed they could go a long way.
She turned to Sam. “All right then. I’ll meet Doctor Milton at nine tomorrow morning, if that works for him.”
“I’ll make sure it does,” Sam said, grinning. “This is going to be great. I’ll see you there.”
“You’re coming too?”
“You kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
He waved, hopped in his unit, and rolled away.
“I think you’ve got a fan,” Rhys said as he watched him drive off. “I heard his ‘friend for life’ remark. What’s that supposed to mean?”
Daley repressed a smile. A little jealous, perhaps? Nice. But how to answer? She figured she could get away with the truth.
“His daughter had a brain tumor that miraculously disappeared, and he thinks I made it go way.”
Rhys was nodding. “Yeah, well, I can see how that would make you a devoted friend. Did you?”
Here it comes.
“Did I what?”
“Cure the tumor.”
“I wish I had that power. But no, it wasn’t me.”
Pard had done it…which started her thinking…
What if Pard had changed his mind and wanted to come back? He couldn’t simply hop from Jason to Daley. He’d need contact. And even if he didn’t want to come back, maybe he’d agree to a temporary reunion. That way she could go down to the medical center tomorrow and heal a few horrors victims…turn the doubters into believers.
Yeah, but then what? What if Pard wanted to go back to Jason? Where would that leave her? She’d have to come up with a reason she could no longer heal. Like maybe: the power burned out…or only so many cures in her…
She’d come up with something. The main result would be that the cures would be real and no one could call her a fraud or a fake.
Except for Amber Seabolt. But she was back in Coachella, and even if she opened her yap, no one would believe her then.
“I have to go visit the Tadhak compound,” she said.
Rhys’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa! Talk about out of the blue! Where did that come from?”
“I was out here in the street when Jason got run down yesterday and I’d like to see how he’s doing.”
“I heard about that. He’s in the compound? I assumed he was in a hospital.”
“No, a couple of his relatives came by in the bus and took him away.”
He shook his head. “Typical. They are the weirdest family.”
Daley noticed a woman and her daughter from the Pendry clan coming out of the grocery store, both in long-sleeved, long-hemmed gingham dresses. Rhys followed her gaze and laughed.
“Okay, we Pendrys have some strange customs as well—I’m the first to admit that—but we’re positively prosaic next to the Tadhaks.”
“Still, I’d like to check on him before we settle down with the film.”
“Hop in. I’ll drive you up.”
“It’s not that bad of a walk.”
“But it’s all uphill—both ways.”
She laughed. After what she’d seen at the windfarm, she wouldn’t be surprised.
And then the ground started shaking.
“Oh, shit!” Rhys said. “Another one!”
But it was mild and lasted only ten seconds or so. The first thing Daley did when it stopped was check her front window: intact, no cracks. Good.
“That’s the third one in as many weeks,” Rhys said. “What’s going on?”
“The end of the world. Come on. I want to get to the Tadhak place before there’s another one.”
So she let Rhys drive her to the compound—up almost to the Lodge and the spa, and then around to the left to the high beige wall that took up the whole end of the road. Everything that might have sported a hint of an angle or a sharp edge had been smoothed over. The result looked like a wall of coffee ice cream left out of the freezer too long. Beige meringue surrounding a single door and no windows, hiding whatever lay beyond.
“Wait here,” she said, sliding out her seat. “I shouldn’t be long.”
“You don’t want me to come with you?”
She waved him off. “It’s okay.”
She needed to ask Jason some pointed questions about a second consciousness he’d just acquired, questions Rhys wouldn’t understand. He didn’t need to know.
She walked up to the massive wooden door and looked for a buzzer button. Finding none, she banged the thick iron knocker set in its center. She half expected the mustachioed guard from the entrance to Oz to open a tiny window and ask Who goes there?
But no. After a short wait, the door swung inward on silent hinges to reveal a dark-haired man with a familial resemblance to Jason. He was dressed in the gray coveralls that seemed to be popular with the workaday Tadhaks.
“Yes?”
“Hi. I’m Daley. I rent the—”
“I know who you are.” His lips—only his lips—smiled. “Good day to you. Is there a problem?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. By the way, how did you fare in the quake?”
His brow furrowed. “Quake? What quake?”
“The one that rattled everything a few minutes ago. You had to have noticed it.”
He shook his head. “We felt no quake.”
No quake? Nobody was that oblivious.
“Is that why you came?” he said and started closing the door. “We appreciate your concern but—”
“No-no. I was down on the street yesterday when Jason was hit and—”
“Yes. We know. Thank you for trying to help.”
“Don’t mention it. How is he?”
She angled her neck to see if she could see past him and catch a glimpse of the inside but her view was blocked by another door identical to the first, forming some kind of vestibule. They must really like their privacy.
“He’s healing, thank you for asking.”
“Great. I was wondering if I could speak to him.”
He shook his head gravely. “I’m afraid that’s not possible while he’s healing.”
“Just for a minute? I have a question I need to ask him.”
“No. Sorry. Not possible. Not while he’s healing.”
“Please? It’s very important.”
He started pushing the door closed. “Three more days. He’ll be well enough to speak to you in three more days.”
“But—”
The door thudded closed.
Damn. Three days meant Thursday…way too late for her purposes.
She stalked back to the car, hoping her frustration didn’t show.
