Dark Rabbit

Chapter 5: Emergency Summons

Michael texted Neal when they were a half-hour out of Shepherdstown. He and Angela would meet him at the Blue Moon Café early that evening. When Neal asked if Angela was any better, he replied with one word: worse.

Neal was so distracted by thoughts of Angela that he only realized as they drove into town how preoccupied Peter had become. He didn't even josh Neal about his music choices. A sure indication he was stewing about something. He was on the point of asking him when Peter suddenly swerved onto a side street and gunned the Mustang like he was on a racetrack.

"Hey, Mario, what gives? The posted speed limit is about a third of what you're clocking. As one with some experience in avoiding arrests, I can—"

"Did you see that man?" Peter demanded, frantically scanning in all directions.

"What man?" Bewildered, Neal surveyed the scene. A few student types were walking on the sidewalk. A couple of women with strollers. Nothing to cause warning sirens to blare.

Peter slowed the car to a crawl. "I was sure ... but now ... I only saw the back. The clothes weren't typical."

"Who did you think it was?" Neal demanded.

Peter pulled off to the side of the road, frowning for a moment before answering. "Curtis Hagen or I suppose I should call him Crowley now."

Now it was Neal's turn to scan in all directions. "What exactly did you see?"

Peter let out a frustrated exhale. "I caught a brief glimpse of a face. He was walking on the sidewalk. It was the swagger more than anything else that alerted me to him. He was wearing a black suit and a black shirt. I guess if you're a demon, that's appropriate. If he was here, he's gone now."

At Peter's mention of Crowley, alarm bells sounded. He hadn't been surprised when Peter grumbled about possible paranormal sightings. Their track record over the past few months would make anyone cautious. But he'd assumed Peter wasn't freaking out about it. Had his concerns turned unhealthy? Was he now seeing things?

Or had the strain of worrying about Neal's issues finally driven Peter over the edge? The thought that he might be the cause sent Neal's heart thudding to the floor of the Mustang.

He'd spent the past couple of weeks exorcising the fake memories planted in his head. Throughout the ordeal, Peter had been his rock—supporting him and helping him through it. Now, just as he had finally purged his mind, Peter was succumbing to fake visions of his own. This was bad. They were on the eve of a major con. He needed Peter sharp, not seeing things. It would be one of the most complicated cons he'd ever pulled, and Peter was a rookie at cons.

Yes, he'd given Peter a few lessons over the past year. His personal favorite was when Peter played a sexy ski instructor. Then there was the corrupt bank manager during the Samurai bond sting. Peter had demonstrated a real flair. But on both occasions, the opponents were amateurs. Now he would be playing in the majors with experts.

Was Peter even aware of the problem? At least Neal had recognized he was being influenced by mind tricks. Peter might not. It was up to him to ensure that Peter was ready for the con. Otherwise, they'd have to redesign it.

"Damn it!" Peter slapped the steering wheel. In a minute, steam would come out of his ears. "Where'd he go?"

"You only got a brief glimpse." Neal paused to overlay an extra layer of calmness to his voice. No need to exacerbate Peter's frustration.

"You think I'm seeing things."

"I didn't say that, but it's easy to be fooled by a quick look. You remember how obsessed I was with Keller? Last February, I was sure he was stalking my friends at the sci-fi convention."