Dr. Earley directed us to a restaurant off of Stillwater Avenue not far from campus near the Stillwater River to meet at. Jessie had managed to calm down and return back to a stable state. Thankfully, she was only wearing her favorite "cool red" lipstick; otherwise, she would have mascara all over my pressed white shirt. We pulled into the restaurant's parking lot and found a suitable space facing the entrance.
"Do you know what he's driving?" Jessie asked.
I retrieved my cellphone from the dash and dropped it into an inner pocket of my black dress coat.
"No," I said. "I don't have enough information on the man to pull his DMV records. I would assume it would be something fancy, though."
Sure enough, five minutes later, a brand new champagne-colored Buick LaCrosse pulled into the parking lot. We watched with great intent as the car pulled into a parking space near the entrance. The driver side door opened and a man matching the description of Thomas Earley emerged, beard and all, dressed in a gray business suit with red and white plaid tie.
Then the passenger door opened.
Jessie gasped and looked at me: "Jonny… is that your father?"
I didn't stay in the car long enough to give her a response. I was immediately out of the car and quickly approaching the pair. When I was within hearing range, my dad turned around, resting on his wooden cane to take pressure off of his hip.
"What are you doing here, Dad?" I asked tersely. As much as I wanted to throw in some swear words for added flavor, I knew that it was imperative that I remain professional in public.
Dad's once dark auburn hair was now silver. His face was tired and worn. Wearing a white polo shirt—similar in design to what Hadji wore the previous night—and black dress pants, it was painfully obvious my father thought enough of this to pull himself away from his duties at Quest Enterprises. Dad gave a sad smile as he said, "Hi, Jonny."
Dr. Earley walked around the back of the car and approached me.
"Detective Quest: I'm Thomas Earley," he said as we shook hands. I looked into his deep brown eyes and expected to feel a chill crawl down my spine; instead, what I felt from him was empathy and a desire to help. He turned to Jessie who walked up beside me, asking, "And who is this lovely young lady?"
"Thom, this is Staff Sergeant Jessica Bannon of the Marines," Dad said as Jessie and Dr. Earley exchanged handshakes. "She's the daughter I've always wanted, so I have her on loan from her father."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Earley," Jessie said after they finished shaking hands.
Dr. Earley gave a small nod, saying, "As to you, my dear; and I am forever indebted to you for serving our country."
He turned to me: "I'm sure you have many questions, Detective Quest. Why don't we go inside and get acquainted?"
We entered the restaurant and were seated by a young hostess in a large corner booth. After ordering our drinks from a middle-aged waitress, Dr. Earley turned to me and said, "Before we begin, I would like to clear up a few things to help correct any presumptions you may have."
"I'm listening," I said.
"First, your father and I have known each other for a long time—not only am I honored to call him a respected colleague, but also as a former professor of psychosomatic anthropology. He came here today by his own volition because of his concern for what is going on."
"Then how did he know I was coming today?" I asked.
Dad accepted his coffee from the waitress, took a sip, and said, "If you weren't coming, Son, I would've asked you to. Or, alternatively, we would've come to you."
The waitress finished laying out our drink orders. After making our selections, she gathered our menus and departed for the kitchen in the back. The restaurant reminded me of a popular country establishment we often frequented when traveling called Shoney's.
"Fair enough, I suppose," I said, taking a gulp of Pepsi. "Next question: just who in the hell are you and what was your relation to Garry Barber and whoever else is tangled up in this bullshit?"
Dr. Earley's gaze lowered to the table as he clasped his hands together in front of him.
"You know my name already, Detective Quest," he said somberly. "Who I am… I'm not sure you're ready for the whole answer as of yet. Let's just say that I've helped your father stay alive in ways that Miss Bannon's father wouldn't be able to. My relationship with Garry was that of a close friend and confidant. Unfortunately, Garry couldn't keep his dick in his pants to save his life…"
Dr. Earley turned to Jessie and apologized for his mannerism. Jessie waved it off and reminded him that crude remarks to phalluses and vaginas was part of the common dialogue heard in the Marine Corps. He turned back to me and continued: "As such, Garry exited this planet in a rather embarrassing fashion. I couldn't get there fast enough to stop it…"
"I'm assuming you saw his body," I said.
Dr. Earley nodded, saying, "Yes, and I tried to open the girl."
"What do you mean 'open?'"
"Since it's a long story, I'll give you the short version: there are people in Maine and throughout the United States—even the whole damn world—that can be controlled via use of sounds, visual cues, phrases, or even frequencies. I'm sure you've heard of the MKULTRA project?"
"Yeah, I know about that. Let me guess: you worked on it?"
Dr. Earley tried not to laugh as he asked, "Do you really think I'm that old? I was only seven years old when the project was even proposed."
"A yes or no would've been suitable," I said firmly.
"My apologies: no, I did not work on MKULTRA. What I've been working on for the past thirty years is privately funded, researched, and 'under the radar,' so to speak."
"Does it have a name?" Jessie asked.
"Not as much as it has a number," Dr. Earley replied. "My role is that of, more or less, a project manager."
"According to one of your volunteers, you're not being a very good one," I mumbled.
"Jonny," Dad said in his fatherly voice. "Thom is trying to help to the best of his abilities; at least give him the benefit of the doubt."
I looked at my father with pure awe and nearly shouted, "Benefit of the doubt?! I've uncovered two dead bodies and made the third one myself when it blew up its goddamn house, and you want me to give this guy the benefit of the doubt so he can treat me like some sort of fucking moron?!"
Jessie put her hand on my arm. I took a few deep breaths and sunk back into the booth.
Dr. Earley looked at me with concern and said, "I'm not going to point out the obvious here, Detective Quest, so I'll be frank: there has been an incident and it has gotten the unwanted attention of someone within my troupe that gets a raging hard-on at the idea of making me look bad. Unfortunately, for all of us, they aren't going to let something as simple as human life stand in the way of what they desire. So far, they've already used you to take out Perry Bostic and… wait, did you say three bodies?"
"Yeah," I said. "Why?"
"Where's Aimee?"
"Somewhere safe until I can nail down what the fuck is going on."
"Thank God," Dr. Earley said with a deep sigh of relief.
"You know, if I were anyone else, I would dismiss all of this as one big conspiracy theory and say that you're full of shit."
"Do you think this is a conspiracy theory? That this is all some sort of elaborate scheme to cover up a double homicide and officer-assisted suicide?"
I looked away and glanced at Jessie. She was staring at me with fear in her eyes. I turned back to Dr. Earley and Dad, saying, "A part of me thinks you are full of shit. Reality, on the other hand, seems to be pointing the other direction."
"How else would you explain it?" Dr. Earley said. "How did you explain your first encounter with Patricia that night?"
I didn't say anything.
"More so, how can you explain entire dossiers on you and your family? It doesn't make any logical sense, does it? And I will admit, to me it does sound farfetched and I'm one of the people running the damn show."
Jessie spoke up, asking, "I have a question… why? If there is an extensive network of individuals that can control particular people, why do they do it in the first place? Is it power?"
Dr. Earley took another sip of his coffee and replied: "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Jessica. You have to understand that the world is a violent and scary place, bursting at the seams with people anxious to do harm to others. At the local level, you control them through the use of laws, law enforcement, and personal safety. At the international level… things get a bit tricky. What if you woke up tomorrow and there was a riot in Rockport? Would the National Guard be deployed against its own citizens? What if the welfare system that the United States implemented shuts off—no more EBT, no more welfare checks—for even a mere twenty-four hours?"
"You don't need to tell me that my vote at the national level doesn't matter: I was already well aware of that," I said. "So you guys masquerade around as a force for good like some sort of cult-inducing Justice League?"
"I never said we were good," Dr. Earley said. "Nor did I say we were evil. We're… balanced."
"Then tell me," I said as I reached into my inner coat pocket. I pulled out a folded up piece of paper and tossed it across the table to Dad and Dr. Earley. "Tell me what this is about."
Dr. Earley looked at me cautiously before looking down at the printout and opening it up. Dad leaned over to look and nearly choked on his coffee. Dr. Earley was stoic.
Dad managed to choke out, "Jonny, where did you find this?"
"Garry's safe room," I said.
Dr. Earley put the printout of my mother with the note "Judith Waterston" attached to it and remained silent for a few moments.
"They want you for some reason," he finally said. "I imagine the computer was missing as well?"
"Yes."
"That book that you found with the girl," he continued. "It's a clue…"
"No shit; it said I was the 'key' to this whole ordeal."
Dad buried his weathered face in his hands and shook his head.
"This is bad, Thom," he said. "This is really, really bad."
"I'll help the best I can, Benton," Dr. Earley said quietly. "I know you want to help Jonathan…"
"You're goddamn right I want to help my son, Thom!" Dad blurted out before slamming both of his fists on the table, rattling our glasses and silverware. A few restaurant patrons looked our way.
Calmer, Dad continued, "I… I do want to help my son… I just don't know how. I didn't know then and I don't know now."
I looked at Jessie once more who placed her hand on top of mine and gave a small squeeze.
"Let's move the dinner to tomorrow night," I said. "We can discuss this… this problem, then."
Dad nodded slightly.
"Jonny," Dr. Earley said. "I want you to know that, regardless of what you think, I will help you the best I can. You should also be aware of an associate of mine that was responsible for moving the family that owns the bookstore there in Rockland."
"Is he the one that went and claimed the bodies of Garry and his escort?" I asked.
"Probably so; his alias is Steve Rude."
"How cute, he's a comic book guy."
"Believe me, Detective Quest," Dr. Earley said. "He's a lot more than that…"