Free Yesterday's Thief: An Eric Beckman Paranormal Sci-Fi Thriller by Al Macy

the way I do. Is hard work to talk better. This is more fun. Maybe I am pulling on your legs.” She reached down and pinched my thigh. Whoa!
    A nurse walked by making notes on a tablet. Viviana seemed fascinated.
    “Viviana, when Craig mentioned the year—”
    “Upp! No! No investigating, just promenade, remember? Maybe your memory is a little fluffy, too. So many nurses and doctors. Hospital is so much bigger than in my country. Is that a locker room for workers? And they use cards, plastic cards, instead of keys?”
    “Now who’s investigating?”
    She smiled and pulled on my ID, which was on a lanyard around my neck. “It says here, consultant. You are not doctor here?”
    I shrugged. Both shoulders were working now. “It’s a little complicated. I used to be a scientist, not a medical doctor. I studied the brain.”
    “And what do you do now, meestair used-to-be-a-scientist?”
    “I’m a private investigator.”
    “Ha! I knew.” “In my country, when tire gets worn out, sometimes put new rubber on it. Maybe that’s you. What is word? Reface? In Romanian, is ‘re-fa-chay.’”
    “Retread?”
    She nodded and switched to her Texas accent. “Better hope y’all don’t deee-laminate, yes? Is right word, pardner?”
    We came to a window at the end of the hall and looked at the blinking red lights atop the towers of the distant Golden Gate Bridge. As we watched, lights blinked out in a large section of the Richmond district.
    Viviana pointed. “Look, power went out. What is happening?”
    “You have no idea?”
    “Memory is fluffy, remember? Please tell.” She hugged my arm tighter.
    I pictured taking her in my arms. Concentrate. “You don’t know anything about the oil infection or the new electric cars?”
    “Am all ears.”
    “Okay, I’m going to pretend you have been asleep for the last forty years.” I examined her face out of the corner of my eye.
    She didn’t react, but in her mind:
    Right? “Okay, here’s what’s going on. A one-two punch caused an energy catastrophe for the world. Years ago, scientists developed an oil-eating organism to clean up oil spills. It worked great, but then the organism infected oil wells, and the infection spread. Oil production dropped and prices skyrocketed. With me so far?”
    “Am foreigner, not idiot.”
    I chuckled. “Fair enough. The second punch was the development of a new battery. After years of minimal breakthroughs, a small company came up with a new, miracle battery. It could store surprising amounts of energy, resulting in much improved ranges for cars. This battery could be produced quickly and cheaply and was plug-and-play with existing electric cars.”
    “What is ‘plug-and-play’?”
    “Sorry, it means you could just replace existing batteries with the new ones with few modifications necessary.”
    “The new battery sounds like good thing. Not punch.”
    “Right. You’d think so. Except that this battery requires more energy to charge. Much more. And because of the high price of gas, everyone wanted a car that used one. Not only did car companies ramp up production of electric cars, but every neighborhood had someone who would convert your gasoline car to run on batteries.”
    “So, power plants in trouble, yes?” She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn.
    “Exactly. And the result …” I gestured toward the dark area of San Francisco.
    Viviana the wonder woman was finally running low on power herself, so I escorted her back to her room and said good night. She pecked me on the cheek, and I turned before she could see me blushing.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    After a few hours of sleep in the doctors’ lounge, I took a bus to police headquarters. Stan’s secretary, a white-haired sweetheart, gave me a peck on the cheek and let me wait in his office. I didn’t blush this time.
    I collapsed into one of his mismatched visitor chairs. Here was the office of an experienced investigator. Binders