Sean filled Michelle in on everything, including the attempt on his life, his theory on Rivest’s murder, and his brief conversation with Valerie Messaline. In turn, Michelle brought him up to date on what she’d found out from her friend at the National Intelligence Center.

“I heard a plane landing around two A.M. my first night here. A big one. I wondered why I couldn’t see any running lights.” “My contact at NIC also told me that Ian Whitfield is a man not to be crossed.”

“Trust me I’d already gotten that impression,” Sean said.

“So you’re partnering with this Sheriff Hayes?”

Sean stirred some sugar into his coffee. “It seemed like a good way to keep in the loop.”

“And little Joanie is okay with that?”

“Little Joanie doesn’t know, because I haven’t been returning her calls.”

“I knew I loved you.”

“Hold your accolades; I’m going to have to fill her in at some point.”

“And this Hayes guy? Is he okay?”

“Solid guy, if excitable. He doesn’t think I should be going anywhere near Whitfield’s wife.”

“Well neither do I.”

“If Monk was killed by the folks at Camp Peary, she may be the only way we can find out about it.”

“From the way you said he blew off the little missus tonight, I doubt Whitfield is giving his wife a daily briefing.”

“She might have learned something anyway. The lady isn’t stupid and she’s not happy with her hubby right now.”

“Okay, let’s say Whitfield had Monk Turing killed. Why?” “Something he saw? These secret flights maybe? There’s something weird going on over there for damn sure. Somebody took a shot at me. And say what you will about the CIA, they don’t usually go out of their way to kill American citizens for no reason.”

“He might’ve seen someone tortured. Or even killed,” Michelle added.

“People are assuming that Turing climbed the fence and then died right there. But what if he went a lot farther than that? In fact what if he was trying to get back out of Camp Peary when he was killed?”

“But you said all evidence pointed to suicide.”

“Come on, the CIA can’t rig a murder to look like suicide?”

“Sean, why would Monk Turing be sneaking over there in the first place?”

“According to Whitfield, to kill himself to either make the CIA look bad or die in a blaze of media glory.”

“But you don’t buy that.”

“No, but maybe he saw the flights coming in and being a curious genius he decided to check it out?”

“This genius couldn’t figure out that doing something like that was tantamount to suicide?” she said skeptically.

“So maybe there was another reason he was going there. But there’s another possibility. He might be spying on this place and selling its secret to the highest bidder. Rivest apparently thought there were spies here. And Turing did leave the country.”

“That doesn’t explain how he ended up dead on CIA property. And maybe Turing isn’t spying on this place.”

“What do you mean?” Sean said curiously.

“I mean, what is it they really do here at Babbage Town? Play with numbers and little computers, or so they say?” She lowered her voice. “So how do you know this place isn’t really a spy ring? Right across the river is a super-secret CIA facility. Maybe all the scientific mumbo-jumbo is just that, crap to cover up their real work: espionage against this country.”

Sean smiled. “That’s a brilliant theory. I knew I missed you for a good reason.”

“That’s why they call it a partnership.”

“But if this place is a spy ring, why call us in?”

“Rivest called us in. Maybe he wasn’t in on the espionage. But he did say the owners were having second thoughts.”

“When I screw up the courage to talk to Joan, I’ll ask her for a rundown on some of these things. I especially want a more detailed background check on Champ, Alicia and Monk Turing.”

“So quantum computers, you said?”

“Len Rivest said it was worth countries going to war for.”

“So you think Rivest’s death is connected to Monk’s?”

“If not, at least to Babbage Town. He was going to tell me all about the place. Then he goes to take a bath and gets murdered in the tub.”

“But the FBI still thinks it was an accident?”

“Ventris is the guy in charge. I don’t know what he thinks. He made it very clear that I was a bug to be crushed if I got in his way.”

“It’s late. Why don’t we get moved into our new home?”

Sean grabbed his bag and they headed over to the bungalow. There were no lights on inside.

“They must be asleep.” Sean unlocked the door with the key Alicia had given him and led Michelle inside. He turned on the foyer light and said, “I’m bunking in one of the bedrooms at the top of the stairs. There’s an empty one across from me. I’ll explain things to Alicia in the morning.”

He studied her without seeming to do so. “So you’re doing okay?” he said quietly.

“Actually, better than okay. I have to admit, the R amp;R was good for me.”

“And the weird stuff you mentioned going on at the psych hospital? Anything come out of that?” he asked casually, already knowing the answer.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” she lied. “I have to tell you, your buddy Horatio was a big disappointment. After asking me a bunch of irrelevant and insulting questions he took off, haven’t seen the little shit since.”

“Really? That’s surprising.” Sean elected not to tell her that the “little shit” would be here in a matter of hours.

“Okay, point me in the direction of my bed. I’m about ready to collapse,” she said.

In the next moment Michelle pulled her gun and pointed it at the sounds that came rushing at them out of the darkness.

CHAPTER 42

SEAN GRABBED HOLD OF MICHELLE’S ARM and said, “Viggie? Viggie is that you?”

The sounds became clearer now. It was someone whimpering.

Sean led the way into the next room and found a light switch.Viggie was huddled in a chair against the wall. She was dressed in her pajamas and her hair was down around her shoulders. It made her look older than did the pigtails. Her eyes were red from crying and the expression on her face was that of a person who hurt everywhere.

Michelle quickly holstered her gun and strode over to the girl. She bent down and said quietly, “Sweetie, are you okay?”

Whether it was the gentleness of Michelle’s words or the worried look on her features, Viggie put out a hand and Michelle took it in hers.

Sean said, “Viggie, has something happened? Is Alicia here?”

Viggie said nothing, keeping her gaze fixed on Michelle.

“Stay with her, I’m going to check on Alicia.” Sean raced up the stairs while Michelle sat down on the floor and stroked Viggie’s hand.

“It’s going to be okay, Viggie. I’m Michelle. Michelle Maxwell. I’m a friend of Sean’s. You can call me Michelle, or even Mick if you want.”

“Mick,” Viggie said immediately and wiped her eyes with her free hand.

“And is it okay if I call you Viggie or would you prefer Miss Turing?”

Viggie shook her head. “Viggie,” she whispered.

“Viggie it is. That’s a cool name. I’ve met lots of Michelle’s but I’ve never met a Viggie before. That means you must be really special.”

Viggie nodded, as though in agreement, but her grip tightened on Michelle’s fingers. “Mick,” she said again.

“We’re friends now. Okay?”

Viggie slowly nodded, her eyes searching Michelle’s as though for any hint of doubt, or worse, untruth.

When Sean returned he had Alicia in tow. Michelle looked up and noted the woman’s sleepy features and then, visible at the bottom of her calf-length pajama pants, the artificial leg. Sean made quick introductions.

“I didn’t know she had come downstairs,” Alicia said. She focused on Sean with an angry look. “We waited for you until it was very late.”