Lost Souls (Cainsville 3.6)

"Don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Lambert. I'm not a reporter. I'm a servant of the law"--roughly speaking--"trying to uncover the truth with no interest in embarrassing anyone. You claim to have seen a ghost. I am not disputing that claim. I simply wish to establish facts, and lying to me will not help your case."

"Case?"

A rap at the door. A portly, graying man stuck his head in. "Everything all right, Robert?"

"Yes," Gabriel said. "I'm here to discuss the woman Mr. Lambert encountered Monday evening. The one who went missing. We may have a lead on her, and I thought he should know."

"A lead? Excellent. Sorry to have interrupted, then."

The door closed, and Lambert exhaled. "Thank you."

"No need. As I said, I'm not interested in exposing you to ridicule. Now, let's back up. Why did you report this to the police?"

"I-I don't know."

Gabriel eyed the man. Noted the widening of his eyes. The tremble in his jowl. The jaw working until he blurted, "I honestly don't know. I just called. I told my story, and it wasn't until hours later that I realized how ridiculous it sounded. It just--it made sense at the time. Like reporting that I'd been mugged. Why wouldn't I?" A sharp laugh. "Because I claimed to have seen a ghost? Claimed not to know how I ended up hundreds of feet off the road? Said I'd experienced some sci-fi time lapse? I know how crazy all that sounds now, but at the time, it made perfect sense."

Lambert took quick, short breaths, leaning against his desk, shuddering with the relief of his confession.

"Maybe I do need a psych eval," he said finally.

"I believe a more thorough drug test might have been more useful."

Lambert looked up. "If you're implying--"

"It would seem clear to me that you were suffering from the effects of a drug you didn't realize you'd ingested. That this girl injected you with something."

Lambert collapsed back into his chair. "Yes, that's it. That must be it."

While this was one possible explanation, the police would have been looking for signs of drug consumption. So why offer Lambert a rational explanation? Because it was easily done. Lambert's state of mind was not Gabriel's concern, but there wasn't any reason not to offer an explanation that would put the architect at ease.

Olivia would be pleased.

That was what Gabriel thought. Not that he was glad he could ease Lambert's mind, but that it would please Olivia.

See, I am capable of considering others.

Just as long as it's not terribly inconvenient to do so.

Gabriel motioned at the laptop. "I presume those are vacation plans for you and your wife?"

Again, Lambert could say it was none of Gabriel's business, but that peck of altruism had bought a bushel of goodwill, and Gabriel could see that in Lambert's face, as open and relaxed as if he'd downed three shots of Scotch.

Lambert nodded. "I have to fix this."

"Fix the situation with your wife."

Lambert's hands started to tremble again, that panicked look returning as he said, "I'm running out of time."

"Time?"

"Forty-eight hours," Lambert murmured. "I only have forty-eight hours."

"Until what?"

Lambert's head jerked up. "Hmm?"

"You said you only had forty-eight hours. Until what?"