Invasion

"He's talking with Art Talbot," Nancy said. She glanced at her watch. The minute was up. She beeped the horn.

Thankfully Eugene appeared at the door, which he turned to and locked. He ran to the car and jumped in the backseat. Nancy quickly backed out into the street and accelerated toward their first stop: Jonathan's school.

"Sorry to keep everybody waiting," Eugene said after they'd driven a short distance in silence. "There was a curious phenomenon last night. Seems that a lot of TVs, radios, and even garage door openers suffered damage in the area around the university. Tell me, Jonathan. Were you and Tim listening to the radio or watching TV around ten-fifteen? As I recall the Appletons live over in that general area."

"Who, me?" Jonathan questioned too quickly. "No, no. We were ... reading. Yeah, we were reading."

Nancy glanced at her son out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't help but wonder what he really had been doing.

"Whoa!" Jesse Kemper said. He managed to keep a steaming cup of Starbucks coffee from splashing into his lap as his partner, Vince Garbon, bottomed out their cruiser on the lip of the driveway going into Pierson's Electrical Supply. It was located a few blocks away from Costa's Diner.

Jesse was in his middle fifties and was still athletic. Most people thought he was no more than forty. He was also an imposing man with a bushy mustache to offset the thinning hair on the dome of his large head.

Jesse was a detective lieutenant for the city police and was well liked by his colleagues. He'd been only the fifth African-American on the force, but encouraged by his record, the city had commenced a serious recruiting effort toward African-Americans to the point that the department now racially mirrored the community.

Vince pulled the unmarked sedan around the side of the building and stopped outside an open garage door next to a city squad car.

"This I got to see," Jesse said, alighting from the passenger seat.

Coming back from a coffee run, he and Vince had heard on the radio that a repeat, small-time crook by the name of Eddie Howard had been found after having been cornered all night by a watchdog. Eddie was so well known at the police station that he was almost a friend.

Allowing their eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dim interior, Jesse and Vince could hear voices off to the right, behind a bank of massive floor-to-ceiling shelving. When they walked back there they found two uniformed policemen lounging as if on a cigarette break. Plastered to a corner was Eddie Howard. In front of him was a large black-and-white pit bull who stood like a statue. The animal's unblinking eyes were glued to Eddie like two black marbles.

"Kemper, thank God," Eddie said, holding himself rigid while he spoke. "Get this animal away from me!"

Jesse looked at the two uniformed cops.

"We called and the owner's on his way in," one of them said. "Normally they don't get here until nine."

Jesse nodded and turned back to Eddie. "How long have you been in here?"

"All freakin' night," Eddie said. "Pressed up against this wall."

"How'd you get in?" Jesse asked.

"Just walked in," Eddie said. "I was just hanging out in the neighborhood and suddenly the garage door back there opened by itself, like magic. So I came in to make sure everything was okay. You know, to help out."

Jesse gave a short derisive laugh. "I guess Fido here thought you had something else in mind."

"Come on, Kemper," Eddie moaned. "Get this beast away from me."

"In due time," Jesse said with a chuckle. "In due time." Then he turned back to the uniformed officers. "Did you check the garage door?"

"Sure did," the second officer replied.

"Any sign of forced entry?" Jesse asked.

"I think Eddie was telling the truth about that," the officer said.

Jesse shook his head. "More weird stuff happened last night than you can shake a stick at."

"But mostly in this part of the city," Vince added.

Sheila Miller parked her red BMW convertible in her reserved spot near the emergency-room entrance. Flipping the front seat forward, she eyed her stricken VCR. She tried to mink of a way of getting it, her briefcase, and a separate stack of folders into her office in one trip. It seemed doubtful until she saw a black Toyota utility vehicle pull up to the unloading bay and discharge a passenger.

"Excuse me, Mr. Henderson," Sheila called out when she recognized Pitt. She made it a point to know everyone by name who worked in her department, whether clerk or surgeon. "Could I see you a moment?"

Although obviously in a hurry, Pitt turned when he heard his name. Instantly he recognized Dr. Miller. Sheepishly he reversed directions, descended the steps from the loading dock, and came over to her car.

"I know I'm a tad late," Pitt said nervously. Dr. Miller had a reputation of being a no-nonsense administrator. Her nickname was "Dragon Lady" among the lower-echelon staff, particularly the first-year residents. "It won't happen again," Pitt added.