Special Agent Noah Bishop shook his head once. "The official federal conclusion is that there's been no federal crime. No evidence of kidnapping-or anything else that would involve the Bureau. And we weren't asked to officially participate in the investigation." His voice was cool, like his pale gray sentry eyes. He wore a half smile, but the vivid scar twisting down his left cheek made the expression more dangerous than pleasant.

"Then what are you doing here?" the same weary detective asked mildly.

"He's interested in Jordan," Theo Woods said. "That's it, isn't it, Bishop? You came to see the so-called psychic's little dog-and-pony show." The detective was hostile, and it showed, though it was difficult to tell which he despised more-supposed psychics or federal agents.

Matter-of-fact, the agent replied, "I came because there was the possibility of a kidnapping."

"And I guess it's just a coincidence that you've been watching Jordan like a hawk."

With a soft laugh that held no amusement, Bishop said, "There's no such thing as coincidence."

"Then you are interested in him."

"Yes."

"Because he claims to be psychic?"

"Because he is psychic."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Woods said. "If he really was psychic, we would have found that girl by now."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Oh, right, I forgot. Can't just flip a switch and get all the answers."

"No. Unfortunately, not even a genuine and gifted psychic can do that."

"And you'd know."

"Yes. I'd know."

Edgerton, aware both of the simmering frustration in the room and the resentment at least a few of his detectives felt toward the Bureau and its agents, intervened to say calmly, "It's a moot point, at least as far as we're concerned. Like I said, the Gilbert investigation is cold. We move on."

Judy kept her gaze on Bishop. "What about you? Do you move on as well? Go back to Quantico?"