“They think they want to be informed, to understand.” Luke shrugged. “Though it usually just scares them more, as you said.”

“I get it. I just don’t like it. People still believe every word they read on the Internet is true, the way they used to be able to trust newspapers. It’s hard as hell to convince them to read critically and check sources. It also wastes my time,” he added.

Calmly, Luke asked, “Have you managed to keep the real oddities of the disappearances under wraps?”

“The oddities of people disappearing into thin air, no,” Jonah said after a moment. “Conspiracy theories are popping up like weeds.”

“And the rest?” Luke smiled faintly when Jonah shot him a quick look. “You asked for the SCU. For us, specifically. We’re all assuming there are details you didn’t put in your reports or tell Bishop. Details you’ve been keeping to yourself. Details that make you certain these disappearances are connected.”

“My second knows,” Jonah said finally. “Sarah Waters, lead detective. She discovered the kids’ car abandoned at the first site, where we’re going now, and was the first to reach the stream where the judge disappeared. She knows all the . . . oddities.”

“And you don’t want to tell us what those are.”

Jonah sent him another quick look. “It isn’t a test or any of that bullshit. It’s just . . . I don’t want any of you influenced by our knowledge or perceptions. People disappearing into thin air is bad enough; I don’t want my imagination running wild. At least not any worse than it already has.”

“I don’t disagree,” Luke said. “About not telling us, I mean. History is filled with disappearances, with people walking away—and apparently vanishing without a trace. But six people in one small town in less than a month is definitely outside the norm.”

“It’s certainly outside the norm for Serenity. We don’t have a disappearance on record until this month. Not a single one, not even runaways.” Jonah hesitated for a moment, and then said, “The spot where we found Simon Church’s car is just up ahead. Before we get started, I should probably confess that I have a pretty good idea of what’s so special about the Special Crimes Unit.”

Mildly, Luke said, “We more or less assumed.”

“Because I called Agent Bishop directly?”

“That—and your visit to Quantico last year. The SCU started out as being something of a guilty secret the Bureau wanted kept at all costs, but the years and the successful cases have made us more respectable, even a solid plus for the FBI. We still tend to keep our abilities quiet in public, but at Quantico and even among most law enforcement organizations we’ve worked with in recent years, we’ve been more or less open about them. Not to the extent of putting too many details in official reports, you understand, or giving interviews to the media.”

Jonah nodded. “I asked around, and that’s what I heard. Your unit has investigated all over the southeast, but especially in the Blue Ridge mountains. You’ve earned a lot of respect. Cops I know are too hardnosed to believe in the supernatural talk about your abilities like they’re just useful skills.”

“They are,” Luke said. “And that is the point. We have abilities that are completely natural to us. And when we can, we use them as investigative tools. Sometimes they help; sometimes they just make a situation more difficult.”

“I have questions,” Jonah admitted. “But I expect I’ll have plenty of chances to ask them.”

“Probably. We aren’t shy, so don’t hesitate. But it might be easier to absorb if you get the information in smaller-to-digest pieces rather than all at once.”

“Noted.”

Jonah pulled his Jeep onto the wide shoulder of the road and stopped it. He and Luke got out, and Jonah waited until the black SUV pulled in behind him and the other three feds got out before he said, “Simon Church’s car was parked on the shoulder about twenty yards straight ahead. I’ve still got the car in the police garage, so you can see that later. I should warn you that just after we found the car and moved it into the garage, we had a hell of a storm with inches of rain. Whatever footprints or other signs there might have been were certainly washed away.”

Sam shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and frowned at him. “There were photos in the file, when the car was still here. Presumably taken before the rain. No sign of any footprints, and no mention of them.”

“True,” Jonah said. And that was all he said. He didn’t exactly look stubborn, but it was clear he had nothing else to say for the moment.

To his people, Luke said, “Let’s just walk the area, okay? Keep an open mind, see if we notice anything helpful.”

Jonah waited at the Jeep, leaning back against the front, not showing much expression except weariness.

As soon as they were a few feet away, Sam said, “We being tested?” She was still more than a bit touchy about that sort of thing, especially given her background as a carnival “seer.”*

“No,” her husband and partner replied. “He’s not asking us to jump through hoops, Sam. He hasn’t offered details, but it’s clear Bishop was right about there being things Jonah didn’t put in his reports. There’s something odd about every one of these scenes, something connecting them. Whatever it is, he couldn’t explain it, and he wants to know if we find the same thing.”

“Without prejudice.”

Luke nodded. “Without prejudice. Are you sensing anything yet?” Samantha was a touch clairvoyant, which meant that she generally only had to shield when she was touching something connected to a crime or other violent event. She had, however, been working with other SCU clairvoyants as well as Luke in teaching herself to sense more intangible things—such as the mood of a small town.

“I feel that the whole damned town’s on edge, but it’s a general sort of uneasiness and bafflement. Plus a lot of fear. But faint. What about you? Sensing anything from the missing?”

“You know my shields are up.”

She did. “Yeah, but you’ve gotten better at picking up on fear or pain even with them up.”

“I didn’t want to try until we got to the scenes.”

“Well,” Sam said, “here we—” She stopped so abruptly that Lucas stopped as well, half turning to look at her.

“Sam?”

After a long moment, she said in a distant-sounding voice, “What?”

Luke glanced at the other two agents, who had stopped just behind them. Both looked curious—and guarded. Typical for new agents. He looked back at his wife.

“What are you sensing, Sam?”

She looked up at him, blinked, and then her eyes closed and she went completely limp, only Luke’s quick catch keeping her from hitting the ground.

—

“WELL, I KNEW you all had some kind of abilities, psychic abilities, but I didn’t expect them to knock any of you out.”

“They don’t, as a rule—though we do have a couple of agents who suffer from blackouts. But Sam can be exceptionally powerful, and unlike most clairvoyants or seers, if what she senses is unusually strong, sometimes she . . . goes somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else? Like where?”

“A galaxy far, far away,” Samantha murmured as she opened her eyes, blinking several times with a frown. She was in an unfamiliar vehicle—she assumed Jonah’s Jeep, since it had been closer—mostly sitting up in the backseat.

The door was open and Luke was standing there beside her. She looked at his hand holding both of hers in her lap, then turned her head enough so she could see his face. He didn’t look quite as grim as he might have, which told Sam she must not have been out long, and he wasn’t showing any external sign of strain.

“A galaxy far, far away?” he said to her, dryly.

“When I was coming out of it, I could hear you and Jonah talking,” she said. “And I couldn’t resist.”

“So where were you?” Jonah asked in the tone of a man who wanted answers. “The future, or now?”