Sitting in a cold interrogation room of an Elizabethtown police station was not where Mackland anticipated spending his evening after rescuing a child. It was frustrating, as they had left him to 'stew' for the last two hours in a white-walled room with what he imagined was a two-way mirror on one wall. There was a metal bar-enclosed wall clock that clicked so loudly that he was tempted to use his gifts to crush it if only to make it stop.

The police officers and FBI agents, upon receiving a call from Pastor James Murphy had descended on the hospital in force. The first thing they had done was to separate them. Jim had gone without a complaint, while Mac was left with two agents glaring at him in the middle of the hospital waiting room. They asked him to come with them. Ashamedly, he had to tell them that he needed a wheelchair, unable to stand after the hectic day. He must have twisted his back while pulling up Luiz, unused to the extra weight while he was in recovery.

The agents stoically asked a nurse for a wheelchair, then radioed for a transport van to meet them at the hospital for a ride. Soon, the wheelchair was brought over. Blanching, Mac shifted into the chair with Agent Dina Thomas's helping hand. Her partner, Agent Reed Ward scoffed, muttering under his breath that he was 'playing it up'. They did not bother to wait until the van arrived, pushing the wheelchair into an unused cubicle to start their questioning.

Agent Ward started, "Dr. Ames, could you explain exactly how you managed to find Luiz Hernandez?"

Mac sat back in the wheelchair, his head throbbing. He tried to relax his shoulders, lessen the tension, but the stress of being interrogated counteracted his attempts. "I was in a motor vehicle accident about ten months ago. I had been in a coma for three months. After relearning verbal, visual, gross, and fine motor skills due to brain damage, we discovered that I gained a new talent in psychometry, among other abilities. When I touch an object that is deeply cared for, I get visions of the person to whom it belonged. Pastor James Murphy and I were on a mission of mercy when we visited the Hernandez family. You can question Sheriff Aaron Hoffman, who had asked the pastor to counsel the family in their time of need. Since I am a doctor, I volunteered to help. I got a spike – as if it were a tracking beacon in my mind of where Luiz was after I touched a doll that his sister Julia handed me. Jim had wanted to call the police, but since it was just a feeling – not a sure thing, I did not want to pull them off their search for a possible false positive. The closer we got to the storm shelter, the stronger the feeling. We spotted his backpack near the hatch – and I believe you have the details of our arrival from the hospital staff."

Mac knew from the look on the agent's faces that they did not believe him. He repeated the story another three times to various law enforcement agents, officers, and lawyers once they had transported him to the police station. They wheeled him from one room to another, each one had fewer windows as it went on and the more forceful the questions became. One of the officers was inches away from his face, the halitosis combined with Mac's headache nearly made him vomit. It was at that point where he had nearly contacted the family law firm and paid them to go on the defensive on his behalf. Instead of lawyers, he considered convincing the FBI that his abilities were real. It would open the door to interesting possibilities on both sides of the coin. Of the two FBI agents, the one Mac needed to convince was Ward.

After hours, threw him in an empty room where the damn fluorescent lights were burning his retinas. He decided that he had plenty of time to close his eyes. If they were going to leave him alone, well then, he was going to take a nap. Wrapping his arms around his waist, he slouched in the wheelchair and let his head fall back.

It did not take another fucking 30 seconds for an officer and agent to arrive in the room, as if they had been watching him, waiting until he was relaxed to enter. Mac imagined it might be some type of strategy they used to 'crack the bad guys', but it was upsetting to be treated with such disrespect.

"Dr. Ames, we wanted to thank you for your patience. Could we offer you some refreshment?" A female officer named Delacy asked politely.

Mac was gritting his teeth, but responded in kind, "No, thank you. I would like to make sure that I've adequately answered your questions before I leave. Was there anything else that you needed to know?"

Agent Thomas sat across from him, unsmiling and serious. "Would you be willing to take a polygraph, just to set all of our minds at ease?"

"Agent Thomas, before agreeing, I would like to set expectations. If I take the polygraph and it shows that I am telling the truth, what would be the next steps?" Mac wanted to be sure if he wasted another hour or two of his life that he would be cleared of suspicion for once and all.

As the woman spoke, Mackland reached out with his mind, the slightest brush to judge truthfulness. "If you pass the lie detector test, we'll let you go home." Mac rubbed the skin between his eyes, closing his eyes for a few seconds.

"Are you alright, Dr. Ames? You've gone pale." Delacy asked in concern.

Prying his eyes open, the doctor told her that he would be alright.

"So, you agree?"

"Agent Thomas, I'll only agree if Agent Ward is in the room with us and ask questions. I would like him to also participate so that the test puts his mind at ease. Would that be acceptable?" Mac was hard in this request.

"Yes, we'll agree to your terms. Thank you for your assistance in this matter. I'm sure I speak for both the PD and the FBI that we would like to close the book on you so that we can investigate other suspects in Luiz's imprisonment." Thomas iterated genially.