“Mental illness. That’s what we put a lot of it down to. Or drugs.”
“You may be right. But I’ve always had an interest in the study of thoughts. Voices in the head. What are they?”
“I hear them all the time.” Jack smiled.
Peter laughed. “We all do. It’s called self-talk and it’s a fascinating subject. But the problems start when you let something else control your mind. I like to compare us humans to a computer, to remind people of the importance of what they put into their heads. Garbage in, garbage out.”
“I see that with the drug addicts.”
“Don’t forget the alcohol. I’ve seen alarming statistics regarding alcohol and crime and other social problems, but I’m sure you’re aware of such things.”
“Yes, you’re right. It’s the social acceptance and liberalism that helps us to forget that it is a drug and the problems associated with it.” Jack’s thoughts were still on Peter’s comments about demons and the supernatural. He thought back to the events on the island and Churchie, the man who saw those things.
The minister continued. “Anyway, Jack. Let me know if you’d like to have a chat.”
“Will do.” His mind was still on the supernatural. “You know, I met a man recently who claims he can see demons. It sort of kick-started the investigation. He told us that demons seem to hang around nasty characters. Do you think the man really sees them?”
“Oh, yes. I know a man who has that gift—although he doesn’t always call it a gift. He used to come to my church when I was in the city. He’s moved to an island out at the bay and I moved on to a church in the suburbs, so we don’t see each other as much. I should make the effort to visit him.”
“Sounds like the same man.”
“Churchie?”
“Churchie it is.”
“Small world.”
“No, it’s a big world, Jack.” Erica said, walking in with the Jack’s coffee and a sandwich.
Jack’s eyes lit up. Proper food! Erica was such a darling.
“Think she’s hinting a holiday, Jack,” the minister’s wife said.
Jack’s thoughts were muddled. Food, holiday? His phone rang. He looked to see who it was. A private number. “Sorry, but I need to take this.” He stood and headed out of the living room. “Hello, Jack Kinnaird speaking.”
“Oh, hello, Jack. It’s Shoana here.”
53 – Phones and buses
JACK’S HUNGER AND TIREDNESS WASHED AWAY in a rush of adrenaline. Shoana? Why would she be calling?
“Hello, Shoana. How are you going?”
“A bit better thank you. The reason I’m calling is that I’m trying to find my phone.”
She sounded rushed. “Your phone?”
“Yeah . . . I left it in the unit when I ran out. I was in a panic and just ran.”
There was a pause. Jack heard a brief sniffle.
“I’ve just come back to the unit to get some things and I can’t find it so I assumed you guys picked it up for evidence or something. I’d like it back, please. If that’s okay.”
“I’ll have to check that out for you, Shoana. Let me do that. I’ll call you back soon. Will I use this number?”
“Yes, that’ll be fine. Thank you.”
A light bulb exploded in his head. He knew where the phone was. Knew who had it.
Jack placed a call to the support team watching over Ruby and Zoe, then contacted the tech expert assigned to the investigation team. He got one of the team to pass on a message to Shoana that her phone would be returned.
Jack needed to know where Shoana’s phone was located and he needed to know urgently. He wouldn’t be getting to sleep any time soon.
<°)))><
Forty-five minutes later, Jack turned into the sleepy street lined with large trees. The trees gave the effect of entering a tunnel—a dark tunnel. He hadn’t noticed this on his last visit to the house. Had his perception changed? Was he viewing reality through a different lens—a spiritual, supernatural lens?
He sensed a coldness about the street. A chilly atmosphere. Yes, his perception had changed.
He passed a rugged-up man walking a large black dog. He turned the car into another dark, tree-lined street. The coldness remained. A jogger passed on the other side of the street. A few cars were parked in the shadows and someone stood at the heritage bus stop.
Jack parked his car and walked up the pathway to safe house number two. He’d texted Catherine and told her to catch up on some sleep just in case she needed to back him up later. A constable greeted Jack at the door and let him into the house.
Ruby and Zoe were watching the television and from the clear and slow voice coming from the box it had to be the early edition news. They both turned towards Jack as he entered.
“Where is he, Jack?”
No ‘hello Jack’, no ‘how are you’. He was tired and oversensitive. “Who?”
