Caleb 10 - At the Mall

"I need to talk to Mary-Beth," I said. "Right now, she is confused and frightened. It's not fair keeping her like that."

Debs nodded. "I can't leave you alone with her, no matter your credentials. She is still a minor and you are a male. Your girlfriends don't count as chaperones. I'll stay by the door and talk to them, and if you talk quietly, I won't hear anything I shouldn't."

We all looked at Steve.

He sighed. "I guess I'll go outside and wait for the agents." He seemed resigned, but also a little put-out. He left the office.

Debs moved to the door, as did Jules and Mary. Amanda and I sat on the couch, one of us on either side of Mary-Beth.

"Hi," I said, "my name is Caleb, and this is Amanda."

She looked at me, her eyes still wet. She was trembling a little, and I caught fleeting thoughts of her being in trouble - memories, but called up to the surface and actively played out. She had received a beating from her father for previous thefts that she had been forced to perform, and her mother had threatened to throw her out if there was any more trouble.

"I promise I'll make it right," I said. "Whether we're allowed to tell them everything or not isn't up to me, but we are going to help you."

"You can't," she said sullenly. "If you don't tell them, then nothing will change. If you do, they won't believe you. They didn't believe me, and I'm their daughter. For fuck's sake, he does it to them too, at home, and they still don't believe it."

"We can be very persuasive," I sent to her.

Her eyes widened and she let out a little scream, her hand covering her mouth. I saw Debs shoot a glance over in our direction, wondering what I had said or done to the girl. I felt Amanda's power flow over Mary-Beth, reassuring and soothing her. I also felt Mary doing the same to the officer, who relaxed her stance.

"I'm going to help you, and help Davey," I said. "In order to do that, I am going to need you to trust me a little bit. Do you think that you will be able to do that?"

She looked at me, her eyes still full of tears. Another wave of reassurance, overlaid with a feeling of safety, security and trust rolled over the girl. She nodded, although I was starting to get a little uncomfortable at Amanda's manipulation. I hadn't really considered how Empathy could be used in that way, but under the right circumstances it could be as powerful as Compulsion.

"I'm going to talk to talk to you directly again," I said. "Would that be alright?" I knew that Debs, even if she heard me, would have no idea what I meant, but I figured better safe than sorry.

Mary-Beth nodded.

"Hi again," I sent, "in here, just think what you want to say, and I will be able to hear it, okay?"

"He has nice eyes," I heard her think, then, "Oh no! did he hear that?" She blushed.

I smiled at her gently. "Don't worry, and thank you, it's always nice to get a compliment. Earlier this morning my girlfriend called me a name, so being told I have nice eyes is a pleasant change."

She smiled shyly at that.

"How old are you, Mary-Beth?" I sent to her.

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in three months."

"And how long has Davey been making you do things?"

"I don't know exactly," she thought. "I guess I realized it was him doing it about six months ago, the first time I stole something. Before that I did stuff, I guess, but just didn't think anything of it."

"Do you think you could show me?" I sent. "If you think of all the times he has made you do something, I'll be able to see them. Depending on how word comes down, I might be allowed to show your parents too."

She nodded, and I got a cascade of images from her: film clips of the times she had been compelled to do something by her little brother. She had stolen several items, most of the time without getting caught. I saw a clip of the last time the fat security guard had caught her, and I delved into that deeper. He had taken her into the manager's office and told her that he was going to call the police unless she agreed to give him oral sex. He was just approaching her when the manager entered the office and took over, telling the guard that since she was a minor, he would give her a warning that time. The manager, a middle-aged man, had given her a severe warning about stealing from his store again before telling the guard to escort her off the premises.

She also showed me her parents: her mother screaming at her when she had been called to another store after she'd been caught stealing from them; then her father, using his belt on her behind, for getting caught again at the same store. He had had to pay them compensation to stop them from calling the police, and she'd been banned from the premises.

"It's all over now," I sent. "I will straighten it out with your parents, and make sure Davey can never do that to you again."

She looked at me wide-eyed again, and then threw her arms around me, sobbing into my chest with relief.

Debs cleared her throat meaningfully, and I looked at her, shrugging with my arms spread, showing who was hugging whom.

Amanda gently disengaged the teen from me, pulling her instead into her embrace while she calmed, which Debs didn't seem to have a problem with. Like that's not sexist.

There was a knock on the office door, and Steve stuck his head in. "The agents are here."

I stood up, leaving Mary-Beth with Amanda on the couch.

"Special Agent David Spencer, Special Agent Andrew Garraway." The other agent showed his credentials. "We're with the Extended Specialist Profiling Division. Mr. Stott here is a consultant working with us."

"Officers Davis and Maine," replied Steve, indicating first Debs and then himself.

David looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I show you?" I sent. I figured that if he had worked with Dianna he would be used to mental communication. I didn't sense any powers in either of them.

"Show us both," he thought, and I sent them my memories from the time I had first become aware of the compulsion.

He nodded, and then turned to the officers.

"Officers," he said, "do you think we could impose and borrow your office for a short while?"

The officers looked at each other. Once again, they weren't obliged to obey him. He was not in their chain of command, but FBI was FBI.

"Sure," said Debs. "We're due a meal break anyhow. How long do you need?"

"Half an hour should be plenty," he said.

"No problem," she said. "Come on Steve, you're buying."

They left the office.

"Caleb," David said, "As you no doubt detected, Andrew and I are both Norms. These two young ladies I recognize as Dianna's granddaughters, but this young lady?" he asked, indicating Jules.

"That's Jules," Mary said, "our girlfriend. She is fully read in."

David shook his head ruefully. "Some things I'm not sure I'll ever get used to. I'm pleased to meet you all."

David sat down in front of Mary-Beth.

"Hi," he said kindly, "my name is David, I'm with the FBI." He showed her his badge.

Mary-Beth trembled, looking scared again. Amanda once again soothed her.

"Caleb has already explained to me what happened," he said. "I promise you are not in any trouble, and we are going to straighten all this out with your parents, okay?"

Mary-Beth nodded hesitantly.

"Where do you live Mary-Beth?"

"One-hundred fourteen Pine, near Henderson." she answered.

"Where are your parents?"

"Working. Mom works at the hospital and Dad works for the city. He drives maintenance trucks."

"What time are they due home?"

"Dad will be home now; he's going to be mad because I should be home already. Mom will be home soon, maybe another half hour."

David looked at me.

"Sorry to ask you Caleb, but Dianna is away on a call just now, and we have no other users in the area. Would you come with us to help explain?"

I nodded.

I heard Mary think, "Amanda should come with you, too. She will be useful. I'll take Jules home."

"Amanda too," I said. "She is far better with Empathy than me."

Davey nodded and looked at Amanda. "Would you mind?"

"That's fine," she said, fishing out her car keys and handing them to Mary.

"We'll see you guys later," Mary said. I got hugs from them both, and they left.

"How did you get here, Mary-Beth?" asked David. "Did you drive or take a bus?"

"I walked," she said quietly.

"It's a long walk," David said.

"Davey likes the walk," she said, her voice low, "so I walk."

"Okay," said David. "We'll take you home now and speak with your parents, but before we go, I think we need to do something about that security guard."

"What can you do?" I asked. "The only proof is what I lifted from his memory. Is that enough to prosecute?"

"Not on its own, but Mary-Beth's statement is enough for an arrest and search warrant. We should get plenty of evidence, judging by what you saw."

Mary-Beth's eyes went wide again. For the first time, she didn't seem scared. She still didn't really accept how quickly her fortunes had changed, but I figured a lack of fear was progress.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Debs poked her head in.

"Do you need more time?" she asked.

"Actually, officer..."

"Davis," I supplied. "Debs to her friends. She lets me call her Officer Davis."

She grinned at me. "Maybe one day," she said.

David smiled. "Perhaps you could do us another small favour."

"Sure," she said.

"Go arrest that security guard for assault, extortion, and propositioning a minor. We may even go for statutory rape. Seize his cell phone."

Debs whistled. "Boy," she said to me, "I guess I'd better let you call me Debs. I don't want to get on your bad side."

"I don't have a bad side," I said. "I'm wonderful from every direction."

Debs laughed. "And modest too. C'mon Steve, before I get roped into being girlfriend number four."

"She's pretty," I got from Amanda.

"Not too old?" I asked.

I got a memory of me, writing the twins name on Dianna's clit with my tongue. It was the thought I had sent them while I was 'sharing' with Dianna.

I blushed, but I supposed she was right. Dianna was sixty-seven, even if she only looked to be in her thirties. I put Debs around twenty-five or twenty-six.

Amanda had soothed Mary-Beth so much that she was actually dozing in the older girls' arms with her head resting on her shoulder.

David nodded for me to follow him outside, which I did.

"I'm going to ask the officers to get the guard transported to holding at the main precinct. They can't interrogate him here."

I saw the officers returning with the guard, his hands cuffed behind him. Steve had the guard's phone in his hand.

"His phone is locked," Debs said. "Eight-digit passcode."

"May I?" I asked and she handed it to me, with a look at her partner.

"May I look at your phone please?" I asked the guard. I couldn't help sounding a bit smarmy. He deserved worse.

"Fuck you," he growled. Steve opened his mouth, but I beat him to it.

"Thank you for your cooperation," I said. "Oh, it appears to be locked. Can you tell me the passcode please?"

"Fuck you twice," the guard snarled again.

I looked intently at his face. "The first number is..." I started counting. "One, two, three, four, five, six... ah, six."

I went through that same charade until I had 'discovered' all eight numbers and unlocked his phone. I hoped it would look like I had seen some reaction when I had said the correct number; I remembered something like that in an episode of The Mentalist I had watched.

"So," I summarised, "six one seven nine three five six five? Great, thanks."

The guards' eyes were like saucers as I unlocked his phone and handed it back to Debs.

"See? You just needed to ask him nicely." I smiled.

Debs started to look through his image files. Her face took on a sick expression as she lifted her radio.

"Central, I need a transport for one under for statutory rape."

She went to turn away.

"Debs?" I said. "You got a pen and paper handy?"

She handed me her notebook and pen.

I scribbled down a couple of numbers.

"What are those?" she asked.

"Top one is the passcode to his phone in case it times out again on you," I said. "From his reaction, that number is important to him, so if you find anything in his house that requires a combination, it will probably be the same number, or perhaps the first or last four digits of it."

I stared at the guard again. "He is the type to have a... wall safe, floor safe - ah! A floor safe! - in his kitchen, den, dining room, garage, bedroom, attic - okay, bedroom then - a floor safe in his bedroom, somewhere, I think."

The guard went grey. Debs look both amused and impressed. I thanked my lucky stars for the abundance of crime procedurals on television - and, I supposed, that the FBI itself was considered quasi-magical by local law enforcement.

"And the bottom one?" she asked.

"That's my cell," I said with a grin.

She laughed.

Steve shook his head. "Kid, you've got game!" he said ruefully.

They walked the guard out to meet the transport at the main entrance.

"Nicely done," David said. "A little 'Patrick Jane,' but it got the info across, and didn't reveal you as anything more than a cocky guy with a bit of a gift for reading people."

I grinned at him knowingly. Even the FBI knew about the power of television. I supposed that Patrick Jane, The Mentalist himself, would probably use that same type of cultural conditioning to help crack a suspect. It was quite poetic, really.

We roused the dozing Mary-Beth, and, with the still-sleeping Davey in his stroller, we all walked out to the agents' SUV.

After about a twenty-minute drive, we arrived at a small house. There was a truck in the drive and a car parked on the street outside. Andrew, who had driven the SUV, parked across the drive, and we all got out of the car.

The door opened as we approached. David was in front with me following him. Mary-Beth was carrying the still-sleeping Davey, and Amanda and Andrew brought up the rear. Amanda had her hand on Mary-Beth's shoulder, still soothing her. I had felt her fear climbing as we had gotten closer to her home.

I wouldn't have said that Mary-Beth's mother looked much like her. She was a short, Rubenesque woman with dark hair and an angry expression. The man that stepped up behind her was taller, and I could see some resemblance. He had fair hair and a pleasant face, and I saw worry in his expression. I immediately caught his thoughts, and read that he had not wanted to use his belt on Mary-Beth, but had done so to placate his wife and stop her from throwing the girl out on the street. He felt massive guilt that he had not stood up to his wife, and he wondered how he was going to protect his daughter this time.

My feelings toward him, which up to then had been extremely uncharitable, started to thaw a bit - at the cost of my feelings toward his wife.

"Mr. and Mrs. Vardy?" David asked as he approached.

They nodded. "Now what?" the woman asked. "What has that stupid little bitch done this time?"

"Becky," Mr. Vardy said, "you don't know that she did anything yet. Give the girl a chance for once."

"I'm Special Agent David Spencer with the FBI," he said, flashing his badge. "This is Caleb Stott." I showed them my ID, thinking to myself I needed a wallet I could just flop open to show it in a cool way. "That's Agent Andrew Garraway, and Amanda Everson." Amanda smiled at them both. "May we come in?"

They looked at each other and then backed away from the door, indicating for us to enter. Becky led the way into their living room, where two other children were sitting watching television. One, a girl, was about twelve, and she looked up when we entered. The other, a boy, looked to be about six, and his attention remained firmly fixed on the program he was watching. I checked them both swiftly and could detect no powers on any of them. Likewise, the parents looked to be 'Norms.'

Mr. Vardy followed us into the room, and, picking up the remote control, turned the television off, which sparked protests from the younger boy. The older girl was much more interested in finding out what was going on.

Neither of them was particularly happy to be told to go to their rooms. It took a glare from their mother to silence their protests, and then they slunk out. I got the sense that the girl would try and eavesdrop. She seemed to like the thought of her older sister being in trouble again.

"What's she done this time?" Becky asked again once the children had left, and the door was closed.

"Actually," said David, "we're not here to talk about Mary-Beth. We need to talk to you about your son, Davey."

"Davey?" they echoed in unison, surprise in their tones.

"What has she done to Davey?" asked Becky. "Did she hurt him? I knew she was getting wild, but I never thought..."

"Mary-Beth did nothing wrong," I said loudly, stopping them in their tracks. I was getting annoyed with the litany, and I could feel Mary-Beth's fear building again. Amanda was right on top of it, as usual, but that wasn't any kind of a long-term solution.

"If you would let me explain," David said to them, giving me a slightly irritated glance.

"Sorry," I sent to him, and I saw the corner of his mouth quirk up.

"Perhaps we might sit?" he asked.

Mr. Vardy pulled some chairs over from the dining table so there were enough for everyone Mary-Beth, Amanda and I settled on the sofa, recently vacated by the children who'd been watching television. The two agents took the dining room chairs. Becky and Mr. Vardy, sat on a couple of easy chairs facing the couch.

I paid close attention. I figured I could learn a lot about proper procedure, if nothing else. I had a feeling the discussion was going to begin poorly; I also figured that that was a fairly normal occurrence - as far as anything was normal in the situation.

"Mrs. Vardy," David began, "would it be okay if I called you Becky?" She nodded. "Thank you, and?" He looked at her husband

"Gary," he replied.

David nodded. "Thank you. Becky, Gary. It is possible that you might already have noticed this, but Davey is not quite like other children his age."

"What are you saying," asked Becky harshly. "that our son is retarded? Nobody has ever found anything wrong with him before."

"Not exactly," said David. "In fact, quite the opposite. Davey is actually gifted, but it's a gift that he doesn't know how to use responsibly yet, and he has been using it on Mary-Beth, and probably others as well."

"A gift?" asked Gary. "What kind of gift?"

"A very small number of people," David continued, "are born with abilities that are beyond what are normally available to the rest of us. Davey is one of these. He was born with the ability to use his mind to compel someone to do his bidding. Simply put, he can force them to do things, even if they don't want to do them."

I waited for the reaction. I wondered how I would react if I were in their shoes. I had only recently realized that such powers existed, and I'd had the benefit of discovering that I was the one who had them. I'd never had to be on the 'Norm' side of things.

Gary and Becky looked at each other.

"I..." said Gary.

"It's not..." said Becky.

I knew then that, deep down, they'd known. The denial was probably so strong as to be violent and overwhelming - probably only cowed slightly at the moment by the presence of the federal government in their house - but they knew that something strange had been going on.

"I know it's a lot to take in," said David. "Not only that such power exists, but that your son can wield it. I can give you proof in both cases - or rather, my young friend here can." He indicated me.