The Servants of Twilight by Dean Koontz Read Free Book Online

broad shoulders and scratched at his thick neck. “The description you’ve given us is the only thing we’ve got to go on, and that’s not much. We’ll run it through the computer and try to work backward to a name. The machine’ll spit out the name of anyone who’s been in trouble with us before and who fits at least seven of the ten major points of standard physical comparison. Then we’ll pull mug shots of whatever other photos we have in the files. Maybe the computer’ll give us several names, and we’ll have photos of more than one old woman. Then we’ll bring all the pictures over here for you to study. As soon as you tell us we’ve found her . . . well, then we can go have a talk with her and find out what this is all about. You see, it really isn’t hopeless, Mrs. Scavello.”
    “What if she hasn’t been in trouble with you before and you don’t have a file on her?”
    Moving to the front door, Wilford said, “We have datasharing arrangements with every police agency in Orange, San Diego, Riverside, and Los Angeles Counties. We can reach their computers through our own. Instant access. Datalink, they call it. If she’s in any of their files, we’ll find her just as quickly as if she were in our own.”
    “Yeah, sure, but what if she’s never been in trouble anywhere ?” Christine asked anxiously.
    Opening the front door, Wilford said, “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll probably turn up something. We almost always do.”
    “That’s not good enough,” she said, and she would have said it even if she had believed him, which she didn’t. They wouldn’t turn up anything.
    “I’m sorry, Mrs. Scavello, but it’s the best we can do.”
    “Shit.”
    He scowled. “I understand your frustration, and I want to assure you we won’t file this away and forget about it. But we can’t work miracles.”
    “Shit.”
    His scowl deepened. His bushy eyebrows drew together in a single thick bar. “Lady, it’s none of my business, but I don’t think you should use words like that in front of your little boy.”
    She stared at him, astonished. Astonishment turned to anger. “Yeah? And what’re you—a born-again Christian?”
    “In fact, I am, yes. And I believe it’s extremely important for us to set good examples for our young ones, so they’ll grow up in God’s image. We’ve got to—”
    “I don’t believe this,” Christine said. “You’re telling me that I’m setting a bad example because I used a four-letter word, a harmless word—”
    “Words aren’t harmless. The devil beguiles and persuades with words. Words are the—”
    “What about the example you’re setting for my son? Huh? By your every act, you’re teaching him that the police really can’t protect anyone, that they really can’t help anyone, that they can’t do much more than come around afterward and pick up the pieces.”
    “I wish you didn’t see it that way,” Wilford said.
    “How the hell else am I supposed to see it?”
    He sighed. “We’ll call you with the case number.” Then he turned away from the door, away from her and Joey, and moved stiffly down the walkway.
    After a moment, she hurried in his wake, caught up with him, put a hand on his shoulder. “Please.”
    He stopped, turned to her. His face was hard, his eyes cold.
    She said, “I’m sorry. I really am. I’m just distraught. I don’t know what to think. All of a sudden I don’t know where to turn.”
    “I understand,” he said, as he had said a couple of times before, but there was no understanding in his granite face.
    Glancing back to make sure Joey was still in the doorway, still too far away to hear, she said, “I’m sorry I flew off the handle at you. And I guess you’re right about watching my language around Joey. Most of the time I do watch it, believe me, but today I’m not thinking straight. That crazy woman told me that my little boy had to die. That’s what she said. He’s got to die , she said. And now the dog’s dead,