Bad Karma

Chapter 13

Les Hasherford was a tall, thin man with a sallow complexion and eyes that bugged out slightly. He could’ve been in his early forties, but could also just as easily have been twenty years older than that. It was hard to tell given his ash gray hair that fit his skull like a helmet, and his smooth, hairless face that seemed more wax than flesh. When he offered his hand, it was cold and damp and gave Shannon the impression that he was shaking hands with a corpse. Hasherford turned and moved slowly, leading the way into his cottage-style house. The interior was probably no bigger than Shannon’s apartment, but it was clean and orderly and had a nice feel to it with its antique pine floor boards and wood beam ceiling. The room Hasherford took him to had a fireplace with a hand-cut flagstone mantel and several paintings of lush green English gardens mounted on the walls. Hasherford lowered himself into a red leather recliner. Shannon took a rocking chair beside him.

Hasherford sat for a moment catching his breath. In a soft halting voice he told Shannon that Susan was a wonderful woman. “Three days ago I was having to use an oxygen tank and a walker. Really, quite a miracle what she has done for me.” Then, smiling more to himself than at Shannon, he added, “Taken from one foot in the grave so to speak.”

“Susan told me how you can feel as if you’re in two worlds at the same time.”

“Quite true.” He nodded solemnly. “It’s as if sometimes I’m in a fog where the worlds for the living and dead intertwine.” He stopped to catch his breath again, went on, “But I’ve been feeling less like that since Susan gave me my remedy. Do you have those articles of clothing?”

Shannon handed him the baseball cap and class ring he had taken from the dead students’ condo. Hasherford rested the ring on the arm of his chair, then closed his eyes and held the baseball cap to his chest. After a while he gave up. “I’m not getting anything with this,” he said. He went through he same routine with the ring before opening his eyes and shaking his head. “Nothing at all.”

“Yeah, well, I knew this was a long shot, but thanks for giving it a try.”

Hasherford nodded. “I’ve never tried anything like this before,” he said, his breath sounding more asthmatic than it had earlier. “To be honest, I never wanted to know whether I could do this. It takes so much out of me locating the children that I do that I never wanted to add this additional burden. But this is discomforting. Until I took the remedy, when I would close my eyes I would usually drift towards the other world. That hasn’t been happening as much. Something has changed.”

“Maybe you might find it happening later. Can I leave the baseball cap and ring with you? If you find yourself drifting towards that other world again, could you give it another try?”

“Yes, certainly. If I succeed in locating either of them, what would you like me to ask?”

“The name of the person or persons who murdered them.”

His lips parted into a smile revealing grayish colored teeth. “But of course.”

The phone rang. His smile faded quickly as he picked it up. He sat still, listening, and before hanging up told the other party that he would be there as quickly as he could.

“I must leave,” he told Shannon. With what appeared to be a great deal of effort he pushed himself out of the recliner and grimaced as he straightened his back. “A six-year old boy is missing in Colorado Springs. I need to get there as quickly as I can.”

Shannon hesitated for a moment thinking about what he still needed to do that day, then felt ashamed and asked whether Hasherford needed help getting to the Springs.

“Once I get to my car I’ll be fine,” he said. “But maybe you could give me a hand to there?”

Shannon took hold of Hasherford’s left elbow and provided support as they made their way out of the house. “I hope I can still help that boy and his parents,” Hasherford said in a breathless whisper that was meant more for himself than for Shannon. “I just don’t know anymore.”

Once he got seated behind the wheel of a badly dented pickup truck, he nodded to Shannon and drove off. Shannon waited until the truck was out of sight before moving. From where he was standing he had a full view of Golden Gate Canyon, and stood silently looking out at the aspens lining its mountain ranges. Even though it was only the last week of July, the trees had already started to turn gold. After several minutes of meditating on that sight, the noises buzzing through his mind had quieted. He got into his car and headed back to Boulder.

Maguire called to tell him that he took pictures of fourteen different people entering Vishna Yoga.

“All women,” he said. “All very nice looking too. I actually know one of them if you can believe it. I don’t think she saw me, though.” He laughed nervously. “Christ, you would’ve been impressed with how I handled this. What I did was find a spot diagonally across the street and sat down with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. While reading the paper, I kept one eye on the entrance and took profile shots of them as they went down the steps. So far no one’s noticed a thing. No Russians with busted noses or anyone else coming after me.”

“Mike, nice job.”

“Thanks. I’m telling you, Bill, I was born to do this type of work. Fuck, this has been an absolute blast so far. No way I can go back to writing software after you’ve given me this taste.” He went silent for a moment, then came back on the line. “I thought I saw someone heading down there. False alarm. I’m going to go get a burger or something until a quarter to three so I don’t look too conspicuous sitting here. I’ll call you after the next round of pictures.”

Shannon felt a little guilty after he got off the phone. He couldn’t imagine how those pictures could be of any use unless by some miracle Melissa Cousins was being taken to the yoga studio. But it seemed like a harmless enough activity to give Maguire. At least as long as nobody noticed him. And he felt better knowing that someone was keeping an eye on the place in case Susan went back there. He decided that he would give Maguire a real assignment later, maybe let him tag along if he needed to stakeout a location.

When he got back to his apartment building, he knocked on Emily’s door and got no answer, which was what he expected knowing that she usually worked until two-thirty. After that he entered his apartment. A quick check of his spy cameras showed that they hadn’t been activated. The Russians were keeping away. He knew that would change once True Light realized he wasn’t giving up, but at least up to this point they were staying away from his home.

He had two emails waiting for him: one from Professor White, the other from Kathleen Tirroza. White, in his email, explained that he couldn’t recall any specific incidents demonstrating Carver’s callous behavior, but that it seemed evident in the cavalier manner in which Carver treated both him and other students, and in how he would dismiss others’ works and ideas. He had directed his office to send Shannon a copy of Carver’s Master’s thesis and hoped that that would give Shannon a better idea of what he was talking about.

Kathleen Tirroza’s email was of more interest. She’d been able to track down information about Vishna’s background, finding that his name was Anil Paveeth, and that he had come to the United States on a student visa in 1992 from New Delhi to enter a master’s program in chemical engineering at the University of Texas. He finished his degree in 1994, got a green card, and worked for Dow Chemical until 2000 when he was laid off. After that he was off the radar. Given his recent activities, she had already suggested to her bosses that they start a more extensive file on him. She still hadn’t identified the Russian, but was going to keep trying-and wished Shannon luck in keeping his face intact until she did, reminding him that she wanted him looking good for her wedding pictures. Shannon reread her email several times before turning off his computer and leaving the apartment.

The fourteen minute drive to True Light’s compound went by in the blink of an eye. Shannon was barely aware of the road, of the other drivers, of the bicyclists he passed. When he arrived at the compound, he held his thumb down on the intercom’s buzzer until the same woman from the other day answered. She recognized his voice and told him to go away or she would call the police.

“I don’t think so,” Shannon told her. “Why don’t you tell Anil that I want to speak to him.”

“Who?”

“Anil Paveeth. Your guru’s name before he started calling himself Vishna.”

“You’re mistaken -”

“No, sister, I’m not. I suggest you find the great almighty true source and let him know there’s someone here who wants to talk to Anil Paveeth.”

There was a long silence on the other end, then she told him to wait. Ten minutes later someone claiming to be Vishna spoke over the intercom. His voice had a lyrical sing-song quality similar to Charlie Winters’, and it sent a chill down Shannon’s spine. “You’ve been asking to speak to me?” Paveeth said. “Well, speak.”

“Not over the intercom,” Shannon said.

Paveeth chuckled softly on his end, the noise sounding like something that might come out of a small animal. “And how do I know it would be safe to talk to you any other way?”

“If what you’re wondering is whether you need to wait until your Russian muscle arrives, the answer is no. All I want to do is talk. It’s either going to be with you or with reporters at the Denver Examiner. They might find it as interesting as I do that a chemical engineer is now running a cult in a remote area of Boulder.”

“This is not a cult,” he stated angrily, then cut himself off and, with his lyrical sing-song voice back in place, said, “Mr. William Shannon, correct? What I operate here is a devout religious temple, I assure you. But I will grant you an interview. However, and believe me when I tell you if there is any further violence on your part, we will prosecute. I hope that is understood.”

Before Shannon could respond the intercom went dead. He stood waiting another fifteen minutes, then the two stooge cult members he had dealt with two days earlier came out of the house. They were both wearing the same style white robes and sandals as before. The one resembling Curly had his head bandaged, the smaller angrier-looking one showed dark purple bruises on the side of his head. They marched silently towards him and unlocked the gate. Neither of them spoke a word, instead stood glaring at him in unison. Shannon realized they intended to trail him through the compound, and while he didn’t like the idea of that he didn’t see what choice he had in the matter. He walked through the open gate and headed towards the front entrance with the two cult members falling in close behind him.

“By the way, I loved you in ‘Three Little Pigskins’,” Shannon said over his shoulder to the bigger one. “But then again, I’m a huge Stooges fan.”

The Curly look-alike didn’t respond. A glance over his shoulder saw that the man’s face had darkened, his eyes small and piggish, his mouth having contracted into a small angry oval. Shannon stepped through the front door and into the marble foyer. The two cult members walked close behind him. He could smell the sourness from one of their breaths.

“How about you two giving me some space?” Shannon asked politely.

Neither of them responded, but they both backed up enough so that he could no longer smell their breath or feel it on the back of his neck. He made his way down the hallway of Hindu gods and when he got to the marble sculpture of Vishna, the Curly look-alike barked at him to take a left. At the end of this new hallway was a door that looked like it had been embossed in gold leaf.

“In there!” Curly demanded.

Shannon raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, but braced himself in case the door handle was missing on the other side, then opened the door wide enough to look in. Inside, Anil Paveeth sat cross-legged on a gold satin pillow, his eyes closed, his thumbs and forefingers touching as his hands rested lightly on his knees. Paveeth, as in his picture, wore a long flowing golden robe and had his head shaved. The room was large, with what looked like twenty-four foot high ceilings, and was filled with flowers and caged parrots. Floor to ceiling paintings of Paveeth were mounted on each wall. Shannon counted eight parrots, each in separate cages. None of them made a peep as he walked into the room, but they all looked at him curiously.

Paveeth opened his eyes and stared at Shannon. The man was as lean as a knife blade and had the same dark penetrating eyes that he did in his pictures. Shannon had to give the guy credit; he projected a good stage presence and could pull off looking far more imposing than he had any right to.

“Sit down next to me and speak,” Paveeth commanded.

“The one true source,” Shannon said. “You don’t know how many false and semi-true sources I’ve stumbled upon before finding you.”

Paveeth’s dark eyes flashed. “Did you come here to mock me or to speak with me? And if you wish to speak with me then be seated! I will not talk to you standing the way you are!”

Shannon took one of the white satin pillows lying on the floor and sat on it cross-legged. Paveeth smiled as he watched him. “Your posture is quite good,” he said. “A private detective who does yoga?”

“And a chemical engineer who becomes God. It takes all kinds, huh?”

“I never proclaimed to be a god, but the gods have breathed on me, giving me a special light to lead my followers with. That much is true. As far as my past, that is immaterial. There are many paths to righteousness.”

“Yeah, sure. Look, you have a Melissa Cousins here. Her mother is worried about her and wants to talk to her.”

“That is up to Kamal. My followers are free to make their own choices and do as they please. If Kamal wishes to talk with this woman then she will do so.”

“Kamal is Melissa Cousins?”

“That is the name she has adopted. Yes.” Paveeth breathed in deeply through his nose, a look of serenity forming over his razor-sharp features as he let it out. “It is the word in my native language for lotus flower. Like all of my followers there is much beauty and delicacy in her.”

Shannon swallowed back what he wanted to say, instead asked, “If I bring her mother here will you let her talk to Kamal?”

“That is totally up to her.”

Shannon gave him a hard look. Paveeth smiled pleasantly back at him. “Before I leave here I want to talk to her,” Shannon said.

“That would satisfy you?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“If that is what is needed.” He sighed as he smiled sadly at Shannon. “Let me see if I can persuade her.”

Paveeth uncrossed his legs and rose effortlessly to his feet. It was almost as if an invisible rope had pulled him up. He stopped to feed a piece of apple to a white cockatoo adorned with yellow head feathers, then picked up a phone sitting on a small decorative table near the cage and asked that Kamal be brought to him. He went back to the cockatoo and took it out of its cage. The bird perched submissively on his arm while he stroked its head feathers. Kissing the bird lightly on its beak, he put it back into the cage.

There was a knock on the door. It opened and Melissa Cousins walked in. She was barefoot, dressed in a white robe and was even thinner in person than she was in her photo. She was so slight in presence, but still stunningly beautiful with large green eyes and long blond hair that fell halfway down her back. When she first walked into the room and her eyes settled on Shannon, a look of apprehension tugged on her features but as she spotted Paveeth she relaxed into a contented smile. She moved quickly to him, nestling her head against his shoulder. In return he stroked her blond hair in the same manner in which he had stroked the parrot’s head feathers. Turning her to face him, he kissed her forehead.

“Kamal, my flower, this man does not believe you are here under your own desires. Please enlighten him,” he said.

She nodded and reluctantly left his side.

Paveeth waved a hand at Shannon, his fingers long and manicured. “You may talk to her privately, since trust does not seem to be one of your virtues.”

The door opened and the two stooges from before entered. They both nodded reverentially towards Paveeth, then stood like stone statues until Melissa walked past them, waiting until Shannon followed her out of the room before falling in lockstep behind him. Melissa led them further down the hallway, through a large solarium where thirty or so young and very attractive women in white robes sat and meditated. None of them bothered to look at Shannon as he walked past them. The same incense from the yoga studio burned around them creating a dense fog of smoke which stung Shannon’s eyes. He almost missed Melissa entering a room off to the side. The two stooges accompanying him stared daggers at him until he joined her.

Melissa sat down on the floor in a lotus position, just as Paveeth had earlier. Apprehension again tugged at her mouth as she stared at Shannon, her large green eyes jumping with fear as they followed him. Shannon took one of the pillows and joined her sitting on the floor.

“Melissa-”

“That is not my name,” she interrupted, her voice weak and barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Kamal. My name is Bill Shannon. Your mother has asked me to help you. She’s here now in Boulder and wants to know that you’re okay. If I bring her here will you see her?”

“No.”

“Just for five minutes? It will be right here at True Light. You won’t have to leave-”

“I said no!”

“Is there a reason why you won’t see her?”

“Because I won’t. She is nothing to me anymore. My reason for being now is Vishna. My only purpose is Vishna. Not her!”

“Kamal, she cares about you deeply…” Shannon stopped himself in mid-sentence. The fight or flight look that had formed over her features stopped him. Muscles along her jaw and mouth had become rigid, and her eyes changed into something that made Shannon think of a feral animal. He considered her for a long moment before taking a deep breath and trying again.

“Kamal, please,” he said, his tone as soft and nonthreatening as he could manage, “your mother does love you and only wants to know that you are safe and happy. If you’d like I could call her now.”

Her face became deathly white, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He moved slowly to get his cell phone, and when he had it out of his pocket something in her snapped.

“No! No! I will not leave Vishna!” she burst out, veins streaking her neck like thin cords of rope. “Nothing will make me leave Vishna!” Then she started screaming ‘No!’ over and over again, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch.

Curly opened the door to peer in. Melissa, at that moment, scrambled to her feet and ran from the room. He watched her leave, then turned to smirk at Shannon. “Vishna wants to speak to you,” he said, a gleeful maliciousness shining in his eyes.

Shannon knew it had been hopeless with Melissa the moment he saw how she reacted with Paveeth. Unless he had thrown her over his shoulder and made a run for it, he would’ve had no chance of getting her to see her mother. Still, he couldn’t help feeling lousy about how things turned out. When he was brought back to Paveeth’s sanctuary and saw the smug smile on the cult leader’s face, it took every bit of restraint he had to keep his hands at his side.

“Are you satisfied now, Mr. Shannon?” Paveeth asked.

“One girl,” Shannon said. “You can’t let one girl go.”

“That is not my choice to make. As you have witnessed, Kamal is here of her own free desire.” He paused as he fingered his chin. “I see that you are smiling. Did something I say amuse you?”

“Not really. I was only wondering why you couldn’t have let me see her the other day.”

“And why must I bow to the whims of a bully?” Paveeth asked, his dark eyes staring intently at Shannon. His voice had shifted to the same lyrical sing-song he had used over the intercom. “When you came here you were told that Kamal had no desire to speak to you, but you persisted in forcing your way in. And yes, Mr. Shannon, you are a bully. Spiritually, you are a deeply broken individual. One of the many gifts the gods have breathed into me is the ability to see into a person’s soul. What I see in yours is ugliness.” He paused for a moment to smile patronizingly. “I can also see that it is not entirely your fault. It is clear that much violence has been brought early into your life and it has left you spiritually crippled. You can not help what you have become, but if you were willing to put yourself in my hands I could bring you into the lightness that you seek.”

Shannon applauded. “Not a bad performance. I particularly liked the pitch of your voice. Very hypnotic. Almost put me into a trance. And bravo on using the Internet and doing a background check on me. I guess that’s the least I should expect given your background as a chemical engineer. I’ve got a question for you. Where’d you get the money to pay for all this? I know parrots don’t come cheap, and this is quite a temple of narcissism you’ve built for yourself.”

A film fell over Paveeth’s eyes. He looked Shannon up and down slowly, then shook his head. “I see that I’m wasting my time with you,” he said, his tone flat, dismissive.

Shannon applauded some more. “You could look into my soul and see that, huh? Yet another of the gifts the gods have bestowed upon you. Another question. What’s a vessel of the gods doing employing Russian thugs?”

Paveeth looked away then and clapped his hands sharply. The door flung open and both of his cult-member stooges stormed in, violence flushing their faces as they scanned the room for trouble.

“He is leaving now,” Paveeth told them. His two followers stepped forward. “Do you want us to throw him out?” the smaller, angrier-looking one asked, his voice a high-pitched squeal.

Shannon couldn’t help smiling a hard smile. He gestured towards this stooge who looked a bit like a bald Shemp. “A regular ray of sunshine, huh?” Paveeth ignored him and told his two followers, “That is up to him.”

Shannon’s hard smile turned harder. “Don’t worry, boys. I’m leaving on my own. No reason to get your heads banged up again. Just make sure you keep your paws off me, okay?”

He walked past them and out of the room. He didn’t bother turning around-he could hear their breathing behind him as they kept pace. “Quite an arrangement you have here,” Shannon said. “Just the two of you, plus the great all-powerful Vishna, and all these nice-looking girls. Is that how he pays you? He lets you spend quality time with them?”

“Shut up!” the Curly look-alike barked.

Shannon passed Paveeth’s marble statue, gave it a short salute, and turned down the hallway of Hindu gods. “Not that I could blame the two of you,” he said. “In the real world neither of you would have a shot with girls like these. But I guess having them brainwashed levels the odds, huh?”

“I said shut up!”

“Hey, come on, don’t be so touchy. I’m only trying to figure this out. Of course, it’s not just you two and the almighty Oz. Those Russians who were here the other day, they’re allowed to sample the goods also, right? Let me guess, sometimes they bring friends along?”

Shannon had walked through the marble foyer and stood waiting for Shemp to unlock the door. Neither cult member bothered to answer him. After he stepped outside, both of them pushed past him in a rush to the gate. Curly’s face was a mask of fury as he unlocked it and swung it open. Shannon was barely past the gate when Curly slammed it shut.

Shannon turned to face him through the metal posts. “Whatever’s going on in there will come out, and when it does, the situation is going to be flipped around. The boys in prison are going to have the same sort of fun with both of you that you’re having with these girls. Call it karma.”

The smaller one was nearly epileptic. His hands and face shook visibly and it looked as if it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep from swallowing his tongue. A dark storm brooded over Curly’s round angry face. “We will live our lives in bliss,” he spat out. “Bliss! Under the warm guiding light of the one true source. You, though, will suffer in blind ignorance forever!”

With that, the two of them hurried back to the house and disappeared within it.

Shannon stood quietly as he considered Anil Paveeth and the True Light cult. The place was worse than wrong. There was no doubt in his mind that Paveeth was nothing but a narcissistic fraud, and Shannon was convinced that he was using the girls there for something more than just his personal harem. He wondered whether the place could be operating as some sort of exclusive whorehouse. These girls would be different than the typical prostitute, blindly following whatever orders Paveeth gave them. There would be a clientele for that type of slave-like subservience, and maybe that clientele would be well-heeled enough to pay for Paveeth’s temple and all of his excesses. Shannon decided he’d have to watch the place, see who came and went. As remote as the compound was, he’d have to camp out in the open. Paveeth would most likely end up sending his Russian thugs after him to dissuade him. Shannon smiled thinly as he thought about that, the muscles tightening along his jaw. Maybe that would give him a chance to kill two birds with one stone.

Jesus, he wanted a cigarette badly right then. A tremor shook his hands as he thought about it. He got in his car and sat immobilized. For several minutes all he could think about was lighting up a cigarette and breathing the smoke into his lungs. Deep down in his throat he could almost taste it.

Then he started laughing bitterly, disgusted with himself.

It must’ve been the incense. The smell of it must’ve triggered something in him.

He stared straight ahead and tried to clear the impulse to smoke from his mind. After a minute or so of deep breathing, he felt calmer, the impulse gone.

He had turned off his cell phone earlier when he entered the True Light compound. He turned it back on and saw he had a message from Maguire wanting to let him know that the second round of photos came off without incident. He got in his car and headed towards downtown. On the way, he called Maguire back.

“I’m at my condo,” Maguire told him. “Right now I’m printing out the photos. Same number of women left the place as went in. I hung around until three thirty when a black Mercedes 500 SEL pulled up in front and picked up three of the girls from inside. The car windows were too dark for me to get a good picture, but I think the driver was one of the Russians you warned me about.”

“Any chance you took a picture of the license plate?”

“Let me check.” The phone on Maguire’s end was put down. A minute later he came back on, his voice more downbeat. “I didn’t get the license. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

Shannon did a U-turn and headed back to True Light’s compound. He pulled up in front looking for a black Mercedes, but the driveway wrapped around the building. Most likely there was a carport behind the compound, and if there was a Mercedes parked there he’d have no way of knowing it. For all he knew there could’ve been a helicopter pad back there.

On his way to Maguire’s condo, he called Pauline Cousins at the Best Western and told her that he had talked with Melissa.

“My daughter is alive then,” she said, her voice faltering and sounding as if she were on the verge of tears.

“She is and she appears healthy.” Shannon hesitated. “She refuses to see you, though, which is what we should’ve expected. Pauline, I’ve dealt with cults before and this is common.”

“But she does seem healthy?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God for that,” she said. “What next? How do I get Melissa out of there?”

“I have an idea of something to try, but you’re going to have to be patient.”

“What could you possibly try?”

“It’s probably better if I don’t tell you about it. Please, trust me about this.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” she asked. Panic had crept into her voice. “What do I do after that? Do I need to hire someone to kidnap and deprogram her? I’ve found ads for people who do that. Oh God, is that what I need to do?”

“Right now you need to take a deep breath, try to relax and give me time to see if what I have in mind works.”

Pauline started sobbing then. Listening to her breaking down brought a knot to his stomach. He didn’t want to tell her that kidnapping Melissa wasn’t even an option-that that only worked when cult members were brought into the public, usually to panhandle for money or recruit new members. With Melissa locked away inside True Light, there would be no way to get to her.

“At least we know Melissa is alive and healthy,” Pauline conceded when she could, still sniffling heavily, her breathing ragged as she tried to hold back more tears. “At least that’s something.”

“It is,” Shannon said. “It’s more than we knew yesterday. And keep the faith. I’m not abandoning her. I’m not abandoning you.”

She told him she would try to, and thanked him for everything he was doing for her and Melissa. “We still haven’t talked about your fee. I’d like to pay you for what you’ve already done.”

“We can talk about all that later,” Shannon said. “After Melissa is out of there and safe with you.”

Maguire was grinning from ear to ear when he greeted Shannon at his door. Perspiration showed on his forehead and neck, his shirt looking soaked around the collar and underarms. “I’ve got some pictures for you,” he said with a wink.

Bob Segar’s ‘Her Strut’ played in the background. When they got to the living room, Shannon saw that the room had been cleaned up. It still needed work, but the litter had been picked off the floor and trash bags were stacked in a corner. Windows had also been opened to air the place out.

“You’ve been busy,” Shannon said.

Maguire’s grin turned self-conscious. “Yeah, well, I decided to turn over a new leaf. And you were right. When I was cleaning up in the kitchen I saw some mouse droppings. I’ll buy traps later.”

He stopped suddenly, his head cocked to one side as he listened to Segar belt out how they love to watch her strut. Then at once he started playing air guitar, his face straining and contorting with the music. He finished his rift with several exaggerated strumming motions and pumped his fist in the air.

“I love that song,” he said. “Against the Wind might just be the best album of the last twenty-five years.”

“You’re one of those guys, huh?”

Maguire gave Shannon a questioning look.

“Air guitar player,” Shannon explained.

Maguire laughed at that. “Yep, I’m one of them. Ultimate Frisbee, hackey sack, air guitar, all that stuff. At least I used to be before I started having my life sucked out of me writing code fourteen plus hours a day. But that assignment you gave me today jazzed me right up. To quote a former Patriots head coach, it left me ‘pumped and jacked’.”

He moved into the kitchen where he opened the refrigerator, took out a beer and held it against his neck to cool himself off. He looked over at Shannon, started to ask if he wanted one, then slapped his forehead. “Doh! Sorry man, forgot. You don’t drink.”

“Not usually, but I’ll take one.”

“You sure? I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not an alcoholic. I can handle a beer. Just not the one you’re sweating over.”

Maguire eyed him suspiciously, but tossed him a can of Guinness. Shannon’s hands shook slightly as he opened it. It had been five years since he’d had a beer, and he found himself wanting it now more than he would’ve guessed. He took several gulps of it, then wiped the foam from his lips with the back of his hand. He craved a cigarette badly. For several seconds he stood paralyzed by the thought of it. He fought back the urge to ask Maguire if he had any, and instead joined him at the kitchen table, leaning to look over the photos.

“You still haven’t told me what’s so important about a yoga studio,” Maguire said.

“This one’s run by a cult,” Shannon said. His voice cracked. His mouth had gotten so damn dry. He took a long drink of beer, then pushed the empty can away from him. “They use it to recruit new members.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I were.”

“Shit. You’re serious?”

“Yep.”

Maguire’s cheeks flushed red with excitement. “Holy fucking shit,” he muttered as he searched through the stack of photos in front of him. He found the one he was looking for and handed it to Shannon. “I know her. Damn, I can’t believe she’s into a cult. She seems so normal, so together.”

The photo Maguire had handed him was of Susan. “You know this woman?” Shannon asked.

“Yeah. I’ve been seeing her for this sinus infection and nasal drip I’ve been having. She does something called homeopathy. It’s kind of an alternative approach to medicine. A little out there if you ask me, but the damn thing seems to work. At least I think it cured me.”

Shannon laughed. “Let me guess. Your remedy type is Medhorrinum.”

Maguire reacted as if he’d been sucker punched. He stared blinking at Shannon. “Goddamn, you’re good,” he said. “How’d you know that?”

“Susan’s my ex-wife. Well, more than that, we’ve been reconciling for a while now. She’s going to that yoga studio undercover. Her idea, not mine.”

“You and Susan live together?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve been to your apartment, man. Just this past Tuesday, in fact. Same day we went to the Sox game. Damn. Talk about your coincidences.”

“No such thing as a coincidence. At least according to a friend of mine.”

“Bullshit. This is a fucking huge one. Unless the stars aligned so we’d meet and become partners in a new thriving detective agency. Shannon and Maguire Investigations. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Yeah, I know. One step at a time. And I know, you might be retiring from this business.” He paused for a moment to rub his hand across his cheek and jaw, leaving a reddish mark behind. “You seemed pretty down before about those two students next door who were murdered.”

“A moment of self doubt. It’s already passed.”

“So you think you’re going to solve it?”

“Yeah, if I keep tracking down leads I’ll solve it. Only a matter of time.”

“That’s the spirit.” Maguire nodded solemnly. “I hope you give me a chance to help you with it. Anyway, let me show you the photos. These are the ones of them entering.”

The first photo showed a van driving off. “It let the same three women off that the Mercedes picked up later. I didn’t realize what was going on until the van drove away, otherwise I would’ve taken a picture of the driver. He was young, though, maybe early twenties, bald, with a bandage wrapped around his skull.”

“I know who the guy is.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Anyway, these are the three women he let out.” He pointed out the next three photos in the pile. Each photo showed a woman heading down the steps to the yoga studio. Two of these women were the ones who had confronted him at the studio, the third woman was young and petite with straight red hair.

Shannon flipped through the rest of the photos. With the exception of Susan, all the women were in their late teens or early twenties, and they were all very attractive. Maguire pointed a finger at the picture Shannon was looking at. “This has been bugging the hell out of me. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen her before and it just hit me where. She used to hang out at my neighbors’ condo.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Pretty sure. Yeah.” Maguire nodded, a sheen of excitement in his eyes. “And not just her. A couple of the others too.”

He took the photos from Shannon and studied them, taking out two of the photos. One was the dark-haired girl who had first confronted Shannon at the yoga studio, the other was a blond girl who looked enough like Melissa to be her sister.

“I’m pretty sure I saw those two also,” Maguire said. He absentmindedly rubbed his cheek harder than before, almost as if he had a toothache and was trying to massage the pain away. When he took his hand from his face his skin was mottled a reddish-white. “Shit, I knew they looked familiar.”

“You remember when you saw them?”

Maguire thought about it, shook his head. “No, after a while everything becomes kind of a blur. These days it’s hard to remember whether something happened six months ago or six years ago, you know what I mean? I just have this impression of coming home late from work a few times and seeing them talking outside the building with my neighbors.”

“All three of them talking with Carver and Gibson at the same time?”

“I don’t think so. Different ones at different times. But again, this is just an impression. I couldn’t swear to any of this on a Bible.”

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Shannon’s heart beat a mile a minute as he jogged to his car, got the Vishna Yoga brochure and brought it back to Maguire. Trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, he asked whether Maguire ever saw Vishna hanging around with Carver and Gibson. Maguire studied the picture and shook his head. “I never saw this guy before.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. If I saw this dude, I’d remember.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it would’ve made things too easy if you did.” Shannon took back the brochure and asked Maguire whether he could make copies of the photos of the women he had seen with his neighbors.

“Absolutely. Computer’s in the second bedroom.”

Shannon followed him to a small room that had been set up as an office. Several bookcases were stuffed with a mix of technical books and hardboiled PI novels. While Maguire made the copies, Shannon picked up a dog-eared copy of Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammett and flipped through it.

“One of the best,” Maguire told him. “If you want to borrow it feel free.”

“Maybe another time. Right now I’ve got a collection of Zane Grey’s waiting for me.”

“Those are westerns, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve read a few recently by Cormac McCarthy. Terrific stuff. Has the same cynicism and bleak landscapes that you get in the best hardboiled books. By the way, all those computer books are getting tossed. In the next few weeks they’ll be replaced with investigation manuals.”

Maguire snapped his fingers suddenly and turned back to the computer. “A moment of inspiration hit me,” he explained to Shannon. “I wonder what would happen if I did an Internet search for Vishna Yoga?”

He brought up a search engine and tried it. “They’re opening up more studios,” he muttered softly as he looked over the results.

Shannon’s heart dropped as he looked at the list of upcoming locations. Fort Collins. Colorado Springs. Austin, Texas. Norman, Oklahoma. Boise, Idaho. Paveeth had far more ambitious plans than Shannon had given him credit for. He was going to mine those college towns for more women who fit his emotional and physical criteria. Shannon knew more expansions would come in the future. That this was just the beginning.

“What do you think?” Maguire asked, a twinkle showing in his eyes. “Should I buy some stock in his operations? Looks like a potential boom.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Shannon said. “Look, I’ve got to head out. I’ll give you a call soon.”

“Sure. Let me walk you to your car.”

“There’s no need. I’ll find my way out.”

“Yeah, okay, um, you are going to give me another assignment, right?”

Shannon nodded, grabbed the photos. “Yeah, I will. You did a good job today.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that, and say hi to Susan for me.”

Shannon told him he would. Maguire walked with him out of the second bedroom and through the living room. Shannon was halfway down the steps when Maguire asked him if he had called Nancy yet. Shannon turned and gave him a puzzled look.

“My wife,” Maguire explained. “I was just wondering if you’ve talked to her.”

“No, not yet. I’ll give her a call tonight.”

“Let me know how things go.” He paused, showing a halfhearted smile. “Tell her I miss her, okay?”

Shannon told him he would. He felt lightheaded walking down the steps, realizing what he had stumbled into. True Light wasn’t just a local Boulder concern. Anil Paveeth had ambitions to go national. Maybe he had misread Paveeth’s purpose for these young women. Maybe what he was using them for was to train an army of ‘Vishna’ yoga instructors. And maybe the Russians’ role was to bankroll the expansion, and they leaned on him the other day to protect their investment. An image of Vishna Yoga studios in malls and shopping centers across the country struck him. If the sonofabitch was successful he’d be able to buy himself a boatful of parrots.

When he stepped outside he called Daniels and told him he’d stop by the station, that he had something for him. On the way over, he stopped at a convenience store and bought a large black coffee and a pack of Camel Filter Hardpacks.

Daniels looked bored as he glanced at the photos Shannon had handed him. He put them down and shrugged. “So?”

“I thought you’d be interested,” Shannon said. “Three members of True Light’s cult spending time at Carver and Gibson’s apartment.”

“First off, you don’t know that they’re members of that cult. All you know is they take yoga classes. Second, you don’t even know for a fact they ever spent time with Carver and Gibson, all you have is an impression from a neighbor that they did. And your buddy, Maguire, he doesn’t know when that was. Third, let’s say Carver and Gibson knew these girls, how the fuck does that tie that cult to their murders? You were a cop once. If someone came to you with this, what would you do?”

“I’d find these three girls and talk to them. Anil Paveeth also.”

“Who?”

“The great almighty Vishna. His real name is Anil Paveeth. This joker used to be a chemical engineer before becoming a god and starting True Light.”

“How’d you find this out?”

“A friend at the FBI.”

“So he used to be a chemical engineer. Big deal. I went to college for journalism and look at me now.”

“I still think it’s worth talking to them.”

“Let’s say I track down these girls. You know what I’ll get from them? Nothing. And I’ll get less from your pal, Paveeth. What you’re asking me to do is waste hours of my time, especially since there’s nothing connecting them to the murders. Now if you told me they were there the night Carver and Gibson were killed, or they had some altercation with them, then that would be different. Or if you told me your FBI friend has something concrete connecting that cult to those dead students. Are you able to tell me something like that?”

Shannon didn’t bother answering him.

“What I’m beginning to think is you’ve got a vendetta against that cult, that you didn’t like that a couple of their boys bruised you up the other day, and you’re looking for an excuse to send me down there to harass them.”

Shannon nodded towards the pictures he had given Daniels. “You need those?”

“Nah, why don’t you take them with you on your way out.”

Shannon did what the lieutenant suggested and took several steps towards the door when Daniels begrudgingly asked him what his theory was. “How were Carver and Gibson connected to that cult?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they did some early recruiting for Paveeth before he opened his yoga studio.”

“Or maybe there’s no connection. Maybe those girls became so distraught over their friends’ deaths that they ended up getting sucked into the same cult together.” Daniels shook his head, his chest deflating as he sighed. “You find a real connection between Paveeth and those dead students and I’ll look into it. But not until then. I already had a new asshole chewed out for me yesterday for not showing enough sensitivity to ‘our minority’ faiths here in Boulder.”

Shannon left. It was already past five. He thought about heading back to the Boulderado to see Susan, but instead made a detour to the university. He found Eddie at the fountain area outside the student center playing a kid in speed chess. Eddie had a rook and three pawn advantage but never had a chance to use it because the kid’s flag fell while he pondered his position. The kid got up and let Shannon take his place.

Eddie opened his eyes wide as he considered Shannon. “An unexpected surprise. I thought our match was tomorrow?”

“It is. I wanted to ask if this is the girl you had talked to before.”

Shannon handed him the picture of the girl with straight red hair, one of the three to have been let out of the van. Eddie studied it intently, pushing his upper plate out as he did.

“Nope,” he said, “that’s not her. The one I talked to looked like a young redheaded version of Meg Ryan with freckles, at least when her eyes weren’t jumping around on me. How about it? You up to a game of speed chess?”

“Sure, I’ve got five minutes to spare.”

“You any good at it?”

“We’ll find out.”

They set up the board with Shannon taking white and each side putting five minutes on their side of the chess clock. Twelve moves into the game Eddie muttered “fish” under his breath. Twenty moves later Eddie had his head in his hands as he stared hopelessly at the board. He stayed in that position until his flag fell.

“Why me, lord, why me?” he beseeched the sky, then turned livid as he faced Shannon. “I played the Steinitz variation of the Caro-Kann perfectly. I spent three day studying all its variations. You screwed up on your twelfth move. It should’ve been a won game for me.”

“I kind of liked my twelfth move,” Shannon said.

“That move should’ve opened you up to a queenside attack…” Eddie cut himself off. “Another game?”

Shannon looked at the kid who’d been observing their game and waiting his turn. “Okay with you?” The kid shrugged, said it was more than cool with him. That he enjoyed watching someone humble Eddie for a change.

Eddie, setting up the board, asked, “You making any headway with your investigation?”

“If you call wandering aimlessly without a clue headway, then yeah.” Shannon took his pack of Camels out, opened it, and tapped lose a cigarette. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Alright with me. Rest of Boulder might form a lynching party, but don’t hold back on my account.”

Shannon’s hands shook as he struck a match and held it to the cigarette. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the smoke and tasting the sweetness of it. He felt lightheaded and disgusted with himself, but also immediately calmer, less jittery-as if a valve had been opened and the pressure inside released.

“I quit five years ago,” he explained. “The last couple of days the thought of lighting up has been bugging me.”

“Falling back into your old ways.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you were a cop you probably smoked. Now that you’re doing cops’ work again, you’re falling back into your old ways.”

Shannon didn’t believe that was the reason for it, but he shrugged and acknowledged that it was possible. Eddie had taken white for the next game. He made his move and hit the clock. Shannon followed suit, letting no more than a tick run off his clock. Most of the game was played evenly with neither side obtaining a clear advantage. With a minute left on both clocks, both players made their moves fast and furiously. By the end Eddie had a slight advantage, but his flag fell. Only a few ticks showed on Shannon’s clock.

Eddie stared incredulously at his fallen flag, then at the board. “I had you,” he said.

“Perhaps.”

“No question about it. I had you.” He rolled his eyes upward before facing Shannon. “At least this gives me hope for tomorrow. One more?”

Shannon checked his watch, saw it was a quarter to six. “Sorry, I need to get going.”

“I hope these games helped you.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie shrugged. “If I had to guess, you came here more to clear your head than to ask me about that picture or to play chess. Any ideas come to you?”

“Still hopelessly in the dark.”

Shannon nodded to Eddie, stubbed out his cigarette and walked off. A thought buried in his subconscious had been nagging at him, and while he played the second game he realized what it was: why the hell were those Russians acting as a taxi service and picking up those girls at the yoga studio? His gut told him the Russians were from Denver. If they lived in Boulder they’d stick out like sore thumbs. So why’d they drive all the way out here just to pick up those girls? The answer hit him about the time he was finishing the last game. They were already in Boulder for another reason so it was no big deal for them, and he had an idea what that other reason might be.

He called Susan on her cell phone.

“Hi hon,” she said, “I’ve been missing you. I’m back at the hotel room now practicing with a couple of pom-poms and getting ready for later. Think you’ll be back soon?”

“Hey, babe, I’ve been missing you too. I’m going to stop by the apartment to check email and I’ll head over to the hotel after that. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, why do you ask?”

“You sound like something’s wrong. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“It’s just been a long day and my throat’s a little dry, that’s all. Keep practicing with those pom-poms, okay?”

Susan told him she’d use the extra time to work on some advanced moves, and that she was looking forward to seeing him. There was a hesitancy in her voice. Before hanging up she asked him not to be too long. Shannon knew she could sense something was wrong, but she didn’t push it. He drove to his apartment building. It seemed quiet from the outside, nothing appearing out of place. A wave of relief washed over him when he saw that his front door was in one piece. He had convinced himself that Paveeth had used the opportunity of his visiting True Light to send the Russians to his apartment, and had an image stuck in his mind of them busting their way in. He checked the locks and saw that they hadn’t been tampered with. When he opened the door, his eyes went directly to a gaping hole in the wall that had been carved out next to the hallway closet. The hole revealed two video recorders his spy cameras were connected to. When he checked them he saw that the tapes had been removed. He looked around the living room. Books had been thrown onto the floor, but nothing else looked out of place.

He moved next to the kitchen. All of the drawers had been thrown open and papers tossed to the floor. Shannon felt a coolness driving into his skull as he walked to the bedroom. As he expected, his computer was gone. Then he saw Emily. She was lying on her side next to the bed, her frying pan laying a few feet away from her. The coolness was now more like ice cubes being pushed into his eye sockets. He got on one knee and felt her pulse. She was still alive. Blood had congealed on the back of her skull above her ear. A stain the shape of a large melon had leaked out onto the carpet from her wound. Shannon’s vision blurred as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. He told them to send an ambulance, that he had a head trauma victim needing emergency care. He then called Daniels, gave him a quick rundown of what happened, and asked if he could meet him at his apartment. He struggled over whether to call Susan. He didn’t want her hearing about Emily over the phone, but he remembered her talking about homeopathy being used to help accident victims. He called her, his voice sounding distant and tinny to himself as he told her about Emily.

She asked whether Emily was making any noises.

“No, nothing.”

“How is she breathing?”

“Very shallow. Barely at all.”

“Any movement?”

“None.”

“Bill, this is very important. Go to the cabinet in the kitchen where I keep my remedies. Find one labeled ‘1M Opium’. Shake out six pellets and place them in her mouth.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Try and do it as quickly as you can. Call me back when you know what hospital they’re taking her to.”

“When I find out, I’ll pick you up and we’ll drive over together. I’m so sorry about this, Susie.”

“It’s not your fault, love, but please, get her the remedy now.”

Susan hung up at her end. Shannon went to the kitchen. Her remedies had been tossed onto the floor with the papers. He searched through them until he found a package labeled ‘1M Opium’, then went back to Emily. He stood frozen as he looked at her. This went against all his years of training as a police officer. Over and over it’s drummed into you not to touch an unconscious body unless CPR is needed. As a cop you’re supposed to wait for the EMT workers. The last thing you’re supposed to do is put what amounts to snake oil into someone’s mouth.

The sound of a distant ambulance knocked him out of his trance. Although what Susan did remained as much a mystery to him as voodoo, he had seen small miracles come out of her work. Les Hasherford was just one example. He tapped six pellets into his palm, each one the size of a pinhead. Kneeling by Emily, he gently opened her mouth and placed the pellets in it. He said a silent prayer over her body, then got to his feet.

He walked outside to wait for the ambulance. The noise of a siren was getting louder. He lit a cigarette and tried to pull some comfort from it.