by Doug Welch
Alex drummed her fingers on the desk top and rubbed her chin with her other hand. “Are you sure this isn’t some weird reaction associated with your pregnancy?”
Elizabeth huffed. “Huh! I’m a doctor, Alex. It’s the first thing I thought of.” She paused a moment and shrugged. “It’s possible. Some women have developed unusual psychosis during pregnancy,” she leveled her gaze at Alex, “but I don’t think that this is the case.”
Alex looked worried. “So...you admit it could be something to do with being pregnant. Maybe that’s all it is, Beth. You’re always saying a doctor shouldn’t diagnose herself. Before you start a panic why don’t you visit your OB?”
Elizabeth bit off a reply. The urge to scream out the truth, ‘no, Alex, I can see mind glow and this man has the glow of a stranger’, was strong. Even if she revealed her ability to The Family, how could they believe her? Not having had the experience, they wouldn’t know if she was telling the truth or not. How could she convince them?
She took a deep breath and let it out. “Alex, just do me a favor. Visit him and if you observe something unusual, let me know, okay?”
To end Alex’s questioning, Elizabeth turned the conversation to less controversial topics. “Have you heard from Edward and Dorri?”
Alex nodded. “I got an email just yesterday. You should check your computer. Your mother probably emailed you as well.”
“I suppose I should pay more attention to my emails,” Elizabeth mumbled.
“Whatever,” Alex replied, dismissing her comment with a wave of her hand. “Anyway they bought a condo in Miami with The Family’s money. Dorri’s writing again and it looks as though she might be syndicated by one of the major online news services. They’re both trying to make up for the thirty years they lost. With the exception of Caesar and me, or you and Paris, I’ve never seen two people more in love.”
“I thought my father was going to take up golf,” Elizabeth said.
Alex chuckled, “That didn’t last very long. He has the writing bug. Dorri says he’s writing about his experiences in Iran. We’ll see what comes from that. Apparently his new heart’s working well. Dorri says he’s very active.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t kept abreast of things,” Elizabeth said, “I’ve been concentrating on the clinic and the baby. I’ve been distracted.”
“Hell, Beth I understand,” Alex commiserated. “You’ve been biting your nails waiting for Paris to come home and now that he’s here you’re having doubts? Maybe we should concentrate on putting this one to bed and get on with our lives. If you need my help, I’m willing but I think we should approach this with caution —”
They were interrupted by the study door opening. Caesar stood framed in the door way. “Are you ready to leave, sweetheart?”
Alex nodded. “Help me out of this chair and I’m all yours. You can take me home and give me a back rub.”
Caesar’s eyes twinkled. “It would be my pleasure.” Turning his attention to Elizabeth, he asked. “I didn’t see Paris. Is he here?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. Cecil says he’s at the Center. You might catch him there.”
Elizabeth watched as both of them left. Alone in the study, her mind dissected the unusual way in which her life had changed since meeting Paris. Calling it weird would be a study in understatement. It had been both weird and life-changing, feeling almost alien to where she was a little over a year ago. Meeting Paris and falling in love had been among the high points. The lows had occasionally been terrifying.
Discovering that Shadows, a subculture of people who could disappear in plain sight, were real and sometimes dangerous, had been hard to assimilate, but becoming their captive during a power struggle had been worse.
Just as things had returned to a strange kind of normal, she’d become pregnant with Paris’ baby and they’d flown to Las Vegas to be married. What had started out to be one of the most intensely romantic moments of her life had degenerated into mind-numbing terror as she tried to flee kidnappers in the flood-control tunnels under Las Vegas. In the aftermath of her rescue by Paris, she’d learned that her life had been a lie fabricated by her father to protect both her and Caesar.
But all the turmoil had brought some good things too. Cecil had protected her in the dangerous tunnels, and they’d assimilated him into the Family. Paris had returned Dorri, her true birthmother, to her and her father, Edward.
In addition the Family had acquired a new Adept member, Paris’ and Alex’s half-sister, Kitty Trudeau. Although a self-confessed thief, Kitty currently worked as a new FBI agent. Elizabeth now knew that Caesar was her cousin, and she and her mother were part Shadows just as Paris and Alex were.
Her baby kicked in her womb, bringing her out of her thoughts, and her hands automatically strayed to her abdomen. Stroking her belly, she quieted the restless stirring.
I’ve got to calm down. This can’t be good for the baby.
The downside had been that Paris had been co-opted by the Shadow Council, the governing body of the Shadow People. He’d been sent out on several missions to settle problems they were to cowardly to accomplish themselves. He’d left for one such mission a week ago, but she was firmly of the mind that the man who’d returned wasn’t her husband.
She couldn’t reveal the true reason for her convictions to Alex because if she did it would lead to more questions, dangerous ones, like how had she learned to read mind-glow? So long as she kept the knowledge a secret, her evidence was flimsy.
Could she convince the Family that the man was an imposter?
If she planned to prevent a potential disaster, she needed allies and it couldn’t be Alex or Caesar. If Alex learned Elizabeth could sense the baby in her womb she’d be sure to attempt it and the effort could kill her.
With difficulty, Elizabeth lifted her swollen body from the chair and went to find Cecil.
Chapter 10
Cecil-Kentucky
As he drove, Caesar looked over at his wife. She stared at the floor of the truck rubbing her belly and not saying anything. “That’s my job, wench.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
He pointed to her belly. “Rubbing your stomach. I’m the only one allowed to do that.”
A corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “It’s my belly. I’ll rub it when I damn well want to.”
He shook his head “Not when I’m around you won’t. If necessary, I’ll tie your hands to the bed.”
Her smile finally materialized. “Ooh, kinky. When do we start?”
Caesar laughed. “Seriously, I saw you were brooding, so I thought I’d snap you out of it. Worried about the baby?”
Her smile disappeared. “No, it was something Elizabeth said.”
Caesar waited for her to continue.
She seemed about to say what was on her mind, but then shook her head. “No. You’ll think it’s crazy. Forget I said anything. It’s likely the baby and the strain of waiting.”
He laughed. “Come on, Alex. Out with it. You know I’ll pry it out of you sooner or later, so you may as well tell me now and avoid all the pesky questions. What did Elizabeth say?”
Alex bit her lip. “She says Paris is not...ah, Paris. I told her to see her OB about preggers-induced hallucinations.”
Since Iran, Caesar took accusations as to Paris’ identity seriously, but he didn’t want to alarm Alex. At Audrey’s request, he and Paris had never told any of the Family about her child, although they’d informed everyone that they had a new potential Family member. The news had shocked them all. Alex had ranted about it for a week. Elizabeth had snapped ‘impossible’, and then described in detail the medical and genetic reasons it couldn’t happen.
Still Alex could be right. Perhaps it was the mysterious changes that occurred in pregnant women, especially ones about to give birth. But it wouldn’t hurt to check.
“Where is Paris? Did you see him?” Caesar asked.
“No,” she replied.
Caesar slowed
the truck to a stop and waited for the oncoming traffic to clear before turning down the road to home. “I think after I take you home, I’ll drive over to see for myself.”
Alex took her eyes from the road, looking at him with surprise. “Why? Do you think she’s right?”
Caesar patted her knee. “You may be correct and it’s something to do with being pregnant. Still, it won’t hurt to verify that it’s Paris, if only to reassure Elizabeth.”
* * *
Not finding Cecil in the house, Elizabeth ventured outdoors. Gingerly negotiating the steps on the back porch, she headed to what Cecil called his truck garden. He’d planted it to provide vegetables for the farm, ignoring the adjacent large fields of crops that Caesar tended.
She had to admit that Cecil’s traditional organic methods of growing food were a lot tastier than the mass produced stuff. In addition, he’d canned a lot of the surplus to have over the coming fall and winter months.
Searching the garden plot, she spied him walking down a row of corn with a basket hung on his arm.
She walked past early summer peas and beans, ripe for picking. They’d soon wind up in the kitchen where she’d spend quiet hours with Cecil, snapping beans and shelling peas to prepare them for canning and freezing.
Coming to the end of the bean plants, she entered the tall stalks of corn. Green and healthy, they rustled in the wind, still holding dozens of ripe ears, some of which nestled in Cecil’s basket.
He’d stopped to wait for her, carefully noticing her feet as she walked down the row toward him. “You shouldn’t be out here, Beth. You could fall and hurt yourself.”
Elizabeth smiled. “And you should be retired with your feet up in front of a fireplace old man, but here you are working, same as always.”
Cecil’s lips drew back revealing his blinding white smile. He laughed. “There’s something soothin’ about planting a seed and tendin’ it as it grows. It’s better than any durned fireplace.”
Elizabeth looked around at the green plants growing strong and healthy in the rich Kentucky soil and agreed with him. Returning her focus to his eyes, she said, “I came out here to talk to you about what happened this morning.”
Cecil’s smile disappeared. “I told you I must have misunderstood him. They’s nothin’ to talk about.”
Elizabeth kept her gazed locked to his. “I think there is, Cecil. I think there’s a lot to talk about and it’s got nothing to do with anything he said.”
Looking puzzled, Cecil replied, “We talk about lots of things, Beth. What’re you tryin’ to say?”
Frustrated, Elizabeth thought of the best way get to the point without sounding like a madwoman.
“Cecil, I’m fairly sure you’ve come to know the Family enough to understand we aren’t exactly normal.”
He hooded his eyes and didn’t reply.
Elizabeth took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “In fact, at times it’s completely bizarre.” She paused and looked away at the green stalks of corn waving gently in the breeze. “Cecil, we’re a Shadow People Family, but we’re not like the ones who forced you to live in the Las Vegas tunnels, we’re the good guys. In fact, Paris stopped all that. Stopped them from hurting you.”
Cecil nodded. “I suspected as much, since you seemed to know lots about ‘em, but why are you tellin’ me this?”
Elizabeth struggled to put the words together. She needed his help but how much should she reveal? Refocusing her attention on him, she said, “Really powerful Shadows like Paris can sense what’s in people’s minds and sometimes they can change them.”
“You mean like mind readin’?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Paris calls it a mind-glow. It’s indescribably beautiful, like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
Cecil’s brow crept up to his forehead. “You talkin’ like you’ve seen it afore.”
“Cecil, I’m going to tell you something. You can’t repeat it to anyone else unless I say you can.”
“You know you can trust me, Beth. I knows how to keep a secret.”
“I can sense it, I can see mind-glow, Paris taught me how –but I can only do it with certain people,” she hastily added, “like Paris or Alex, not you. I don’t pry into other people’s minds.”
She looked for disbelief or condemnation in Cecil’s eyes, but they remained steady and appraising.
She took a deep breath. “I saw the mind-glow of the man you think is Paris, the man you talked to this morning, and I’m firmly convinced he’s not Paris, he’s an imposter.”
Cecil’s only reaction to her words was a brief blink of his eyes, and then he opened them wide. “It takes a powerful imagining to believe what you say, Beth. If I hadn’t heard him this mornin’, I don’t think I coulda done it. Now, I ain’t so sure.” Laying the basket on the ground he put his hands on the small of his back and massaged it. “Supposin’ he ain’t Paris. What can we do ‘bout it?”
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. “Just watch him Cecil. See where he goes. I need Family members who believe me to monitor him. If he tries to leave the county, we need to stop him. He’s the only link to Paris’ whereabouts.”
“Do you think he means harm to you or the baby?” Cecil asked.
Once again, Elizabeth marveled at the change in Cecil’s idiomatic speech patterns. When he felt relaxed and at peace with the world, he lapsed into lazy, southern speech inflections, but at the hint of action, he was the decisive ex-army sergeant and his accent disappeared.
She shook her head. “No, if I did, I’d have you do more than follow him.”
Cecil’s eyes narrowed. “You realize that if you’re correct, then sooner or later, he’ll have to be imprisoned.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, but not now. We need to understand why he’s here. If someone went to all the trouble to impersonate Paris, there’s got to be a reason behind it.”
Cecil’s eyes focused elsewhere as if in thought. Then they returned to Elizabeth. “Why not call Kitty? She works for the FBI and I know she’s a Shadow.”
Momentarily startled, Elizabeth suspected that Cecil knew more about the Family than she’d realized. “I never thought about that, but you’re right, Cecil. She’s almost as good as Paris at reading mind-glow. She’d be able to verify I’m right.”
Cecil’s face looked grim. His hands bunched into fists. “Do it. Call Kitty. And Beth, if he does anything to threaten you or the baby, I won’t just follow him, I’ll hurt him.”
Chapter 11
Kitty-Michigan
“Agent Trudeau. We’re in position.” Kitty released the key on the communicator and crouched down beside the back porch of the house, out of direct sight from the back door.
Holding her weapon at the ready, she scanned the yard, taking note of the two tense SWAT team members who waited with her. The summer heat and humidity bore down and she sweated under the chest armor.
Tugging at the ballistic fabric with the yellow FBI logo, she shifted it to relieve the pressure on her uncomfortably confined breasts. She’d worn body armor at Quantico during training but never in a tense field action. They ought a make these things for broads with boobs. But then I’ll look like Wonder Woman and the guys will be sure to hassle me.
Smiling at the thought, she waited for the command to enter.
At the front of the house they negotiated for the release of the hostages. The perp was a wanted domestic terrorist she and her partner had tracked down. As standard procedure, they’d called in the local police, but the cops had bungled the operation, letting the suspect escape to this house and take hostages.
Therefore the Agency was calling the shots on this one. Since it was now an FBI operation, she was in nominal command of the two local SWAT team members that accompanied her.
Her ear piece crackled. “How you doing back there, rookie?” The voice was Agent Rodger Pell, her partner. He never tired of reminding her she was still a probationary agent, even though she’d been involved in some high
profile cases that she’d solved with the aid of her Adept talents. She knew she was a shoe-in to attain permanent agent status but Pell still ragged her.
She keyed her radio and whispered. “Just waiting for you jocks to decide, so we can take the perp down.”
“Just make sure you don’t screw up, rookie. This guy’s dangerous,” Pell responded.
She whispered again, “We’ll take care of our end. Hurry it up. It’s hot back here. Trudeau out.”
As the minutes ticked by, she wondered what was taking so long. Either the guy would cave in, or at the first sign of threat to the hostages, they’d storm the house. It was a no-brainer. During the time she’d crouched at the back door, she’d heard a loud but muffled voice as the terrorist talked to the negotiators. As long as the talking continued she didn’t worry. It was when the voice became silent that she’d become concerned.
The FBI Hostage Rescue Team was still three hours away and she feared they wouldn’t get there in time. So it was up to her, her partner and the local SWAT officers.
But this seemed to be dragging on forever. She could use her Shadow abilities to short circuit the whole operation and take the perp by herself, but with so many eye witnesses she’d spend the rest of her career squelching rumors. No, she needed the involvement of more than one person to make the bust clean. The question was how to do it?
Using her Shadow Adept talents and expanding her mind, she probed the terrorist’s mind-glow to assess his intentions. Feeling a little dirty from his thoughts, she sensed deliberate intent, as though he stalled the negotiations waiting for something, something he’d planned at a given time.
Keying her radio again, she whispered into the microphone. “This guy is fucking with us, Pell. He’s got something planned. I think we should go.”
She heard the crackle in her ear. “Hold, rookie. Wait until we give the order.”
