Page 83 of The Forest of Lost Souls

Regis thinks,“Songbird” equals Vida.

“What if we underestimated the bird again?” Boschvark worries. “Maybe what we have here is less a songbird than a bird of prey. Maybe our bird laid the four eggs and flew away, while the hawks are still there but, you know, all of them with broken wings.”

In frustration, Regis dares to say, “Can we stop with the birds and eggs, and just talk straight?”

“No. The thing is—maybe the bird is coming back to the nest. If so, you need to be ready to cage her.”

“All those hawks have broken wings, and I’m supposed to cage the songbird that broke them? I’m grateful for the job you’ve given me, everything you’ve done for me, but bird caging isn’t in my skill set.”

“My apologies for being so blunt, Mr. Poe, but your skill set is whatever I say it is. Considering how agreeable our relationship has always been and the fatherly affection I feel for you, I hopeyou will hold no animus against me for reminding you of the breadth of your responsibilities.”

If Regis is going to change his wicked ways for Wendy (which he is), if he’s going to terminate his long association with Boschvark (which he must), if he is going to be required to testify against his employer (which seems inevitable), he must never forget that he knows too much. His life won’t be worth spit the moment that the billionaire has any doubt about his loyalty. Given Boschvark’s deep and mutually beneficial ties to the shadow state, elements within the FBI and the CIA and the ISA and the NSA and the EPA and the National Endowment for the Arts (for starters) will engage in a bidding war for the right to contract a hit on Regis and win the undying gratitude of the man who is at the moment posing as H. G. Wells.

Consequently, Regis says, “No animus. In fact, Mr. Wells, I’m grateful that you have clarified my thinking in such a graceful but impactful way. If the songbird does return to its nest, you can count on me to cage it harder than any bird has ever been caged.”

“I’m delighted to hear that.”

“I’m pleased that you’re delighted.”

“Now I’ll order those bees to launch from their hive,” says Boschvark, and he terminates the call.

Wendy says, “I assume you just lied to him.”

“Sorry you had to hear it. But, yeah, the only bird I’m ever going to cage is him, when eventually I testify in court.”

If this were a séance, no spirit would be needed to levitate the table. The power of Wendy’s smile alone would do the job.

Regis drinks the remainder of his spiked coffee in two long swallows and rises from his chair. “The boss is sending drones to see what’s happened to the search party.”

“Sounds like what happened is what should have happened.”

“Considering the fleet of drones he controls, the skies around here will soon be busy. Better leave before his people ID your SUV.”

Getting to her feet, she says, “Meet me at my place.”

“I’m going with you now. I don’t dare take my Lexus. It’s a company car, and they can track it wherever it goes.”

Her SUV is of a humble make that Regis can’t identify, but it isn’t as poky as it appears to be. By the time Wendy speeds out to the county road and turns toward Kettleton, no drone has yet snarled into sight.

“I might have to hide out for a while,” he says.

“Seems as if my wicked brothers won’t be coming home.”

“Seems so. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, like I said, I’m done with those bad boys. They exhausted my grief for them a long while ago. You’ll be safe at my place until all this is settled.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have your own bedroom. I hope that doesn’t disappoint.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to be any other way.”

“Separate rooms won’t be a permanent arrangement,” she says, and Regis could glide forever on the promise of her smile.

67

DOGS AND DRONES

---