the…inexplicable? Project STAR?”
“Psychic phenomena,” he said, tongue in cheek. “Discontinued after your military intel community computed how little bang they were getting for the enormous number of bucks they were shoving down a rat hole?”
Renee took another deep breath and tried again. “No, it’s ongoing. They turned it over to…another agency that had fewer constraints and better funding.” She added a smile. “I was…am one of their subjects.”
He brushed a hand over his lower face and shook his head. “You’re telling me that you’re psychic.”
“Not precisely. I’m an RV.”
“Ah. A recreational vehicle. This gets better and better. Makes me want to kick your bloody tires.”
Renee laughed. “No, a remote viewer. I…see things. Places. People.”
He waved a hand at the sketchbook lying on the floor. “John Trip.”
“That’s really him? I thought it might be. He’s at Deborah’s apartment this morning.”
“Really. You’ve been wafting through the ether. What a convenient trick that must be.”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Look, I know this must be hard for you to believe, but…”
“I want an address,” he stated. “A real address where I can find him, Leblanc. And cut the bull.”
Renee bit her lip and got up off the edge of the bed. She was getting a crick in her neck from looking up at him. Also, she didn’t want to feel as open to attack when she answered. “Look, I’m sorry, I can’t give you the address. Not yet anyway. I don’t know where she lives.”
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