The Bad Place by Dean R. Koontz

in danger, so he’d have nothing to worry about except poached eggs,

which wouldn’t be much of a worry at all, since he sort of liked poached

eggs.

WHEN Clint Karaghiosis arrived at Dakota & Dakota shortly before nine

o’clock, Bobby took him by the shoulder, turned him around, and went

back to the elevator with him.

“You drive, and I’ll fill you in on what’s happened during the night. I

know you’ve got other cases to tend to, the Pollard thing is getting

hotter by the minute.”

“Where’re we going?”

“First, Palomar Labs. They called. Test results are in.”

a few clouds remained in the sky, and they were far off toward the

mountains, moving away like the billow sails of great galleons on an

eastward journey. It was a quintessential southern California day:

blue, pleasantly warm, everything green and fresh, and rush-hour traffic

so hideously snarled that it could transform an ordinary citizen into a

foaming-at-the-mouth sociopath with a yearning to pull a trigger of a

semiautomatic weapon.

Clint avoided freeways, but even surface streets were clogged. By the

time Bobby recounted everything that transpired since they had seen each

other yesterday afternoon they were still ten minutes from Palomar in

spite of the questions occasionally asked by Clint’s amazement-subdued

like a o reactions, but amazement none the less at the discovery that

Frank was evidently able to teleport himself.

Finally Bobby changed the subject because talking too Clint about

psychic phenomena to a phlegmatic guy like Clint made him feel like an

airhead, as if he had lost his grip on reality. While they inched along

Bristol Avenue, he said,

“I can remember when you could go anywhere in Orange County and never

get caught in traffic.”

“Not so long ago.”

“I remember when you didn’t have to sign a developer’s waiting list to

buy a house. Demand wasn’t five times the supply.”

“Yeah.”

“And I remember when orange groves were all over Orange County.”

“Me too.”

Bobby sighed. “Hell, listen to me, like an old geezer, babbling about

the good old days. Pretty soon, I’ll be talking about how nice it was

when there were still dinosaurs around.”

“Dreams,” Clint said. “Everyone’s got a dream, and the one more people

have than any other is the California dream, so they never stop coming,

even though so many have come now that the dream isn’t really quite

attainable any more, not the original dream that started it all. Of

course, maybe a dream should be unattainable, or at least at the outer

limits of your reach. If it’s too easy, it’s meaningless.”

Bobby was surprised by the long burst of words from Clint, but more

surprised to hear the man talking about something as intangible as

dreams.

“You’re already a Californian, so what’s your dream?” After a brief

hesitation, Clint said,

“That Felina will be able to hear someday. There’re so many medical

advancements these days, new discoveries and treatments and techniques

all the time.”

As Clint turned left off Bristol, onto the side street where Palomar

Laboratories stood, Bobby decided that was a good dream, a damned fine

dream, maybe even better than his and Julie’s dream about buying time

and getting a chance to bring Thomas out of Cielo Vista and into a

remade family.

They parked in the lot beside the huge concrete-block building in which

Palomar Laboratories was housed. As they were walking toward the front

door, Clint said, “Oh, by the way, the receptionist here thinks I’m gay,

which is fine with me.”

“What?”

Clint went inside without saying more, and Bobby followed him to the

reception window. An attractive blonde sat at the counter.

“Hi, Lisa,” Clint said.

“Hi!” She punctuated her response by cracking her chewing gum.

“Dakota and Dakota.”

“I remember,” she said.

“Your stuff’s ready. I’ll get it.” She glanced at Bobby and smiled, and

he smiled, too, although her expression seemed a little peculiar to him.

When she returned with two large, sealed manila envelopes-one labeled

SAMPLES, the other ANALYSES-she handed the second one to Bobby. They

stepped to one side of the lounge, away from the counter.

Bobby tore open the envelope and skimmed the document inside.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202

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