Part 23 (1/2)

”So that's why you came back,” Sue said. ”You're here because the president is coming to San Diego. And you think Jana can help you get close to him.”

”Very good,” I said, impressed.

”She won't help you.”

I smiled rakishly. ”I can be rather persuasive when I want to be.”

She smirked. ”You're not as charming as you think you are.”

For several moments we concentrated on our pastries and coffee.

”Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” she said.

Since I knew her agenda, I decided a preemptive denial was the best approach. ”My schedule is up in the air,” I said. ”I can't promise to meet with the professor.”

Sue Ling smiled sweetly, sipped her coffee, and stared out the window. She took my statement as a challenge.

I changed the subject. ”Do you mind if I ask you something?”

She set down her coffee, folded her hands, and looked directly into my eyes, awaiting my question. Her brown eyes so mesmerized me, I almost forgot what I was going to ask her.

”You're a student of physics,” I said. ”How is it that you've hooked up with a professor of theology? The disciplines are so far apart.”

”Not as distant as you might think,” she said. ”I went to Heritage College after high school. I was a Bible studies major and the professor was one of my teachers. I eventually became his teaching fellow.

”Actually, it was Professor Forsythe who encouraged me to pursue physics. My senior year I was having a hard time finding a suitable subject for a term paper and he suggested I do a study of the spiritual side of the cosmos.”

”I've always thought the spiritual and the physical were opposites, irreconcilable, in tension with each other.”

”That's what most people think. You're wrong.”

I laughed. ”Simple as that.”

”Simple as that.”

”Unless I completely missed the boat in my college physics cla.s.ses, I could probably find a few hundred noted scientists who would take my side.”

”You could introduce me to a million scientists. It wouldn't make any difference. They're all wrong.”

I admired her confidence, even though she was academically misguided. ”It always comes back to the supernatural with you and the professor, doesn't it? Not everything is about angels.”

”More so than you think.”

I sipped my coffee. ”Don't get me wrong. I deal with intangibles all the time. Speech. Ideas. But the difference between us is that my intangibles are verifiable. I deal with facts that can be checked and corroborated, facts so powerful they can change the world. I don't have time for fairy tales and myths.”

”Then maybe it's time you double-checked your so-called facts. Real? You don't know what real is. I'll take what you so ignorantly refer to as fairy tales and myths over your biased collection of interpreted history any day, and over your political forces that you naively claim shape the world. All this . . .” She patted the table. Lifted her coffee cup. Crumpled her napkin.

I got the message. All matter.

”This is the stuff of the cosmos . . . to you it's real, only it's temporary. And the supernatural, the stuff of the spirit? It existed before the cosmos was created and will continue to exist after the cosmos is burned up and gone. It's eternal. And let me tell you something else . . .”

She was on a roll and getting animated.

”. . . all this matter? All this dirt and rock and territory and human flesh that is so important to your history? It's shaped by the supernatural more than you're aware. You want to know what's real?” Her jaw trembled. She was getting emotional.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a purse. From the purse she retrieved three photos in succession and slapped them on the table, side by side. ”This is real!” she said, tears coming now. ”This is real history shaped by real supernatural forces.”

Grant looked at the photos. The first was a studio shot of the professor, younger, though his hair was white. He smiled a carefree smile Grant had yet to see during his time with the man. A handsome woman embraced him from behind, her arms draped around his neck, clasped against his chest. Her head reclined against his. Her eyes, her smile, her demeanor, were that of a woman in love.

The two other pictures were also portraits, the kind taken once a year at school. Two girls, both strawberry blond. The older girl looked like she was a fifth- or sixth-grader. Her smile was strained because she was trying to hide the braces on her teeth. But her eyes were those of a happy girl. The younger girl, possibly third grade, was a little pixie with mischievous eyes.

”The professor's family,” I said. Something told me there was a story attached to these pictures and it wasn't a happy one.

”The professor was in his second year at Heritage,” Sue said. ”His doctoral study had been on kingdom warfare as portrayed in the New Testament, chiefly the book of Ephesians. He taught a course on kingdom warfare at the college which became quite popular. As a result, speaking invitations began to pour in and he traveled frequently, preaching on Sundays and teaching during the week.”

Sue took a ragged breath before continuing. ”He was beginning to get national attention and had just signed a contract to write a book when they visited him the first time.”

”They?”

”Beings you so easily dismiss as myths and fairy tales.”

A s.h.i.+ver that stretched all the way back to Myles Shepherd's office chilled me.

”They tried to intimidate him, scare him. Shut him up.”

”Why? If they're so threatening you'd think that they would want people to know about them.”

”Myths and fairy tales manipulating and controlling people? How ridiculous, Grant.”

I accepted her chastis.e.m.e.nt. My statement made it sound like I believed they existed. It was obvious she believed it. But I was confident the story wouldn't hold up under investigation.

”At the time,” she continued, ”the professor was serving as a volunteer chaplain for the police department. Once a week he would ride along in a squad car and basically make himself available to counsel victims. One day, while he was on duty, his unit was dispatched to an automobile accident with injuries.”

Another ragged breath. She glanced down at the pictures on the table. ”The professor didn't know it was his family until he arrived at the scene.”

Sue fished for a tissue. ”A hit-and-run. Nora had just picked up the girls from school. She was turning left with the light. A red pickup truck ran the light. Nora and Jenny were dead when he got there.”

She pushed the picture of the youngest girl closer to me. ”Terri died in her father's arms.”

From the table four smiling faces looked up at me.

”It wasn't an accident, Grant. It was a message. While the professor was holding Terri, he looked up and saw the same three EDs who had threatened him. He blinked and they were gone.” Sue reclaimed the pictures one at a time and put them back in her purse.

”EDs?”

”A term I coined for my thesis. Extradimensionals. Angels. They have the ability to move between physical dimensions.”

”The accident. How do you know-”

”That it wasn't just a common, everyday hit-and-run?”