Invisible Touch Read online

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tuesday dawns, but Echo and I are already at the office. Because I will be traveling most of tomorrow, I need to complete two consultations this afternoon and all my project tasks this morning. Ugh, I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

  Things are proceeding well with the planning of the Psycept Community Convention. I have a few dates to choose from and am waiting to hear back from vendors regarding fairs and festivities. Revamping the Psycept Police Division is also coming along. Sheriff Helki confirmed that they have enacted a personnel freeze for the next seven weeks with the option to extend. Sully and Tamez will continue to work on their training portion, though their output will slow while Sully is traveling. Mark…

  How’d it go yesterday afternoon? Was Dio able to help, or did your YouTube foo render him unnecessary?

  He helped a lot. I threw him to the wolves, though. I had too much waiting for me when I got back to deal with their nonsense.

  I don’t know if you should use nonsense to describe your bosses. Isn’t that one of those ‘career limiting moves’ I’ve heard of?

  Oh, they know what they did. To make up for it, they gave Dio and me gift cards to some steakhouse. It just opened around here, heard it was pretty good. We’re going to try it out Sat.

  Cool. Do you need anything from me today?

  Nope, surveys were just sent out. I should have all the responses back by this weekend. Then we can work on it next week.

  Have fun.

  Enjoy the visit with your family.

  Client projects are good for now. Next stop, my management duties.

  Dani, do we have everything set for Noah staring next week?

  Yes. His access is set up. I’ll put his desk equipment together Thurs, probably. Got all his stuff for paycheck and community contributions ready to go.

  Who does he sit with first on Mon?

  Me for two days, then three days with Rhea. Then he starts out the following week with you on Mon, Soon Yee for three days, and Dio gets him on Fri, let the two males bond.

  Okay. Hey, would you set up a Saturday lunch or dinner in the next couple of weeks? Employees and family are invited. I want to welcome everyone, and we can say it’s a Winter Solstice celebration. Of course, the agency is paying.

  Sounds fun. Yes, I’ll let you know when it’s set up.

  Lunchtime. “Alright, Echo. Let’s get you outside. I need you to run around a lot today, get you nice and tired. Kyle’ll pick you up this afternoon so he can watch you for me. He’ll explain it better to you than I can.”

  I was still in the back when Kyle arrived. He’s earlier than expected. “Something wrong?”

  “No, I just wanted to get here when you were still hanging out with him. Soon Yee let me know your usual lunch time. Puppies and kittens remember things less than adult animals. So, I’ll need to repeat it several times until he gets it. It’ll be better if you’re here while I’m going over everything, repeatedly, so he won’t be anxious.”

  “Oh, makes sense. Well, I’ve got twenty minutes left.”

  “That should work.”

  Thirty minutes later, Echo is wagging his tail, excited to go visit his new best friend. I gather his blankets, chew toys, doggie bed, leash, and food to send with Kyle. I’m going to miss him but remind myself it’s for less than a week.

  The first consultation of the afternoon is a simple one. Eighty years ago, two brothers divided their inherited property between them. They marked the boundaries, then did their own thing. It was not a contentious split and they never formally filed the property lines with the province nor did they walk the property line with their children. Cut to now and the families of each brother are not close, and a watering hole is in dispute. I read the memories from the items and write down what landmarks they used to divide the property, then try my best to indicate it on the map and pictures of the land that was sent. I have no idea if this will hold up in court, but that’s for them to deal with.

  I take a short break then proceed to the next consultation, a missing child. We prioritize recent child abductions by near-now, then near-close, and finally near-far. I think throwing near in front of each category marks it as a missing person, rather than a homicide or robbery, though to me, it seems more like a term used in distance shooting. Whatever, I didn’t come up with it. Anyway, we realize that some police contact us right away and others wait a week or two, and some wait until months or years later. Near-now is within one week, near-close is within three months, and near-far is anything older than that. Unfortunately, most of our missing person petitions fall into the near-far category and hope is dim. But even near-now abductions often lead to negative outcomes.

  This case is a near-far abduction, ten months ago. Eight-year-old Grady Thomason disappeared from a state park he was visiting with his family in Memphis, Tennessee. As I begin reading the first object, an odd sense overtakes me. He heard a voice that he did not recognize, but I’ve heard it before. Not with my own ears, but from a prior consultation. I proceed with reading the next two objects and the similarities are chilling. I stay with Grady’s body after his death and see where he was buried. As my senses expand to the man burying his body, I become upset. As last time, he covers himself, so I cannot see him, and he makes no noise. He must expect that someone like me would try to see him and took steps to mitigate this. But, I see my touchmarker blazing over him. Still gotcha, asshole.

  I provide all the information I can about Grady’s abduction, and especially where his body is buried. I calmly write the report, handle the video log, and upload everything. Then, I pull up the consultations that I previously tagged for follow-up.

  Jamie Michard was a seven-year-old boy abducted from an outdoor birthday party over two years ago. I handled the consultation six weeks ago which resulted in me providing the location of his, and possibly two others’, bodies. I tagged it for follow-up as I wanted to provide adequate time for the local police and forensics to process the site. The burial site was located, four bodies found, but no forensic suspects, at least noted in the Psycept case. Since it was Jamie’s grandmother who sent in the petition, a clear or recognized US police jurisdiction was not listed on the petition. Tamez was covering for Sully at the time and her team was too overwhelmed to handle all the notifications and follow-up required from the case. So, she asked for assistance from Southern Plains, which was the closest conservatorship to the burial site. SoPlains dealt with contacting the US local police to search for Jamie’s body, while a SWACon officer handled notifying Bette Michard, Jamie’s grandmother and petition originator.

  There was a follow-up request from the local police where the bodies were found. They asked for Psycept Police assistance to help process the scene, but it was not handled by our conservatorship. Instead, the SoPlains Psycept Police were assigned the follow-up petition. There were very little notes from the SoPlains detective. But at least now I have an internal contact to ask about the status rather than bother Jamie’s grandmother.

  “Detective Donoma”

  “Hello, this is Gray Graham. I’m a Psycept in Albuquerque, Bosque region, SWACon. Do you have a moment to speak about a case you were called to assist?”

  “Sure. Case number?”

  I repeat the case number, then wait for her to refresh her recollection.

  “Ah, yes. Lake Tenkiller. It was a jurisdictional mess, and no one was sharing information. Tenkiller is a state park in Oklahoma but the boy was abducted from Missouri. And it wasn’t the Missouri police who filed the petition, it was the grandmother in Arkansas. So, we contacted the state police in Oklahoma, who worked with their parks department, and with the help of cadaver dogs, located the remains of four boys. Oklahoma requested follow-up with us because Missouri did not give them case files. So, I went down, basically to let them look at our notes from the petition that led us to Lake Tenkiller, which originated from the grandmother.”

  “Do you know if the boys were identified?”

  �
�Jamie’s grandmother arrived at Tenkiller when I was there. She was notified by SWACon via her local Arkansas police and drove there as soon as she could. She brought Jamie’s dental and medical records and one of the bodies was confirmed as Jamie’s. The last I know they were trying to identify the other three bodies.”

  “Were they all buried at roughly the same time?”

  “No, two were dated from before Jamie, one about six months and the other a year before Jamie. The third was roughly six months after Jamie.”

  “What about forensic evidence collected? I didn’t read too much from this case.”

  “Our supervisor prefers the minimal amount of information to be listed in the Psycept case database. All the Psycept stuff, but only basic contact and movement of police, not the details. The police details are kept in our system that’s not linked to the Psycept database. As to forensics, there wasn’t much. No footprints, no hair found that wasn’t one of the boys’, no clothing snagged. We looked around the parking lots, we pulled up CCTV footage, nothing. Even the FBI was called in to assess the site, and the analyst got the impression that it was not the first burial site the killer used, that he had practice.”

  “It’s no problem about limiting the information, that’s why I called. I figured you would be able to tell me a lot more than what I could access as a Psycept. Thank you for your time.”

  “Happy to help, goodbye.”

  In addition to Jamie Michard’s case, there were fourteen other consultations I flagged for follow-up since the last time my siblings came to visit me over the summer though I have seen them individually since then. Three months ago, I had a two-day pass to bring Kai into SWACon through Fortuna, the closest SWACon town to the Yuma entry point. And two months ago, Tommie and I met for a shopping trip in Yuma, Canada. They’ve visited with each other a bit more often, but for the three of us to get together on SWACon is a twice-yearly tradition, usually around the solstices.

  I flag cases that have no clear resolution after my reading. I am either unable to provide a description of the abductor or killer, or the location of the person is unknown. In Jamie’s case, while I provided the location of his body, the abductors were unknown, and I was hoping that forensic evidence at the burial site would allow the police to catch the killer. Appears as if my hopes are dashed.

  I send a quick message to my team.

  I’ll be in my office for the next couple of hours if you need me. Kai and Tommie are visiting me starting tomorrow, so I’ll be somewhere in SWACon if an emergency arises. Otherwise, I’ll see y’all next week.

  I began to look at the cases I flagged for follow-up. Fortunately, most of the cases were resolved with the combined work of the conservatorship and local police departments. Kai, Tommie, and I will only need to handle five cases upon their arrival. I release the resolved cases and committed the highlights of the follow-up cases to memory for easy retrieval.

  Since I will be out of the office for the rest of the week, I thoroughly clean my office before I leave. As expected, cleaning personnel are not welcome in my space, though they are used for the rest of the office. After the cleaning, I unload my shotgun and RAMI and place the weapons, shells, and magazines in my office gun safe. Making sure that all recording and computer equipment are shut off, I then close and lock my office door. Since I’m the last person in the general office, I lock the doors and engage the alarm system. Time for me to head home and prepare for the visit. I cleaned my house Sunday, but I need to give a last-minute polish before leaving at ass o’clock in the morning.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The small plane from ABQ to Oneida in the Llano Estacado Conservatorship departs at 7 a.m. and is just over an hour flight time. However, Oneida is in a different time zone, one hour ahead of Albuquerque, so the arrival will be after 9 a.m. Wichita Falls, a town just on the eastern border of Lla-Esta and Texas, serves as the US entry point to Llano Estacado. My escort and I will fly the short forty-minute trip from Oneida to the border outpost nearest Wichita Falls and wait for my siblings’ arrival at the entry point. Tommie is also flying in this morning to meet Kai at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, then they’ll drive the hundred miles to Wichita Falls and arrive at the entry point around eleven. Tommie lives in Washington DC while Kai lives in the DFW area.

  As speculated, there wasn’t a legitimate way to delay them from leaving the US, which is why the government tried to affect their crossing via Canadian immigration, customs, and security in Yuma. But there should not be an issue with them leaving the US. Liaison Lowell and Chiefs Yanaba and Quanah are investigating reports of Psycepts approved for asylum in SWACon being delayed by the US from leaving. But no reports of Americans with Visitor Visas being delayed, yet. Kai and Tommie are aware of the issue that may arise with them returning to the US, so made extra accommodations for their return trip next week.

  At 6 a.m., I hear a vehicle make its way down my long dirt lane. I grab my carry-on case and jacket, lock the door, then head out to the electric truck that is pulling up in my gravel parking area. I didn’t confirm my escort with Sully, expecting that it would the detective I now work with at the Psycept unit. I should’ve asked, if only to prepare myself for the sight of Sheriff Helki in the driver’s seat. I get settled in the passenger side, then Sheriff Helki drives to the small airport adjacent to our divisional military outpost on the southeast side of Albuquerque.

  “Morning, Gray. What do you have to declare?”

  “I’m taking my tablet, phone, chargers, plus print outs of visitors passes and email authorizations just in case. Personal effects include a hairbrush, hand sanitizer, mouthwash, gum, water bottle, and jacket. I also have my Bobcat, extra magazine, behind-the-waistband holster, plus my knife and its thigh holster.”

  “Okay. I’ll inspect your weapons and wand you before we board the plane and you’ll have to sign the Llano Estacado weapons waiver policy. Do you know what your siblings are bringing on board?”

  “Yep, they copied me in on their form submissions and I just sent them to you. They’ll also have the weapons waiver filled out for both Lla-Esta and SWACon before they cross the entry point. They usually enter SWACon at Yuma and we’re old hands at that. But this is the first time I’ve had to get them through another conservatorship. Oh, and thanks for taking me. Sully told me he got someone to cover for him, I just didn’t realize it would be our illustrious sheriff.”

  “No problem. Tamez has the Psycept unit in hand and with Sully out, Lowell agreed to help if she needs it. My other departments have good senior deputies, sergeants, and lieutenants in charge and Chief Yanaba knows that I’m OffCon today. I’ve been traveling around the region for the last two weeks, what’s one more day of travel?”

  Sheriff Helki is sub-chief over the Bosque police division, which is the easternmost region of SWACon, from Albuquerque east to Lla-Esta and south to Cochise Conservatorship, or CoCon. Bosque’s two other borders are soft as they are with regions within SWACon. Our central region, Chaco, and to the north, Mesa Verde, which Sheriff Helki originally hails from. ABQ is the regional seat and headquarters of Bosque as well as being the most populous city in the region. It’s also where Sheriff Helki spends most of his time. Sheriff Helki’s direct reports in Albuquerque are sergeants and lieutenants, while his outlying subordinates are deputies. He travels the region every quarter to visit his deputies and the citizens they protect.

  We arrive at the small airport about thirty minutes before takeoff. Flights occur regularly with packages and sometimes passengers booked. Flights within SWACon between the regional seats of Albuquerque, Wir-Kiva, Hovenweep, and Fortuna occur twice daily. Flights out of Albuquerque to Auraria-GB, El Paso-CoCon, and Oneida-Llano Estacado are in the mornings and arrivals to Albuquerque are in the afternoons. Flights to other conservatorships or international flights are a little different. Either we skip-fly our way through other conservatorships in small, or if we’re lucky, medium-sized aircrafts. Or we might be able to catch a military flight in a large pl
ane to a nearby military base, thus avoiding the multiple stops imposed by smaller planes need to refuel frequently.

  Sheriff Helki, two Albuquerque grandparents visiting family in Lla-Esta, and I were the only passengers on the Oneida-bound flight. As promised, Sheriff Helki runs the wand over me, inspects my weapons, and tags the trigger on my gun plus my knife handle and holsters so I will not be able to use or remove them from my holsters during the flight. I don’t feel any resentment, this was just part of the stipulations of my tenure. A full citizen does not have such restrictions when traveling among conservatorships. I’m merely a permanent resident of the GT and linked to SWACon. My authorization for owning and carrying weapons is for SWACon, so if my flight was within SWACon, there would be no need for inspection or tagging. But since I am traveling to another conservatorship, my weapons must be secured, and my conduct guaranteed by SWACon, thus the escort.

  The small eight-seater plane takes off after we board. I doze on the short flight and wake upon landing in Oneida. We hop on an even smaller plane headed to Waggoner, the Lla-Esta outpost ten miles from the Wichita Falls border. We arrive in Waggoner and since we have an hour until Kai and Tommie reach Wichita Falls, we decide to grab something to eat at the outpost mess hall. I prefer to eat fruit as my first meal while Sheriff Helki eats a full breakfast of eggs, pancakes, and grilled ham.

  “When I first met you fifteen years ago, I thought that you sought asylum with the GT because you were alone in the world, no family to speak of. Imagine my surprise eight years ago when I assumed the sub-chiefdom and realized that your family was living and chose to remain in the US. Why didn’t your family join you?”