by Marilyn Kaye
But the next piece of information was something Tracey never expected to see neatly typed in black and white on an official-looking document.
Gift: Ability to transfer consciousness into another body.
Characteristics: Subject must experience a sensation of pity for the person in the body prior to transfer. Subject is without personal consciousness, but remains physically unchanged, with all natural abilities intact. Subject appears to be operating through a remote memory of typical behaviour patterns. All consciousness of the subject is in the new body. Consciousness of person who normally inhabits body appears to be in a sleeping state.
Limitations: Subject exhibits some control in taking over a body, but has not yet achieved the ability to release body at will.
Project potential: Could replace heads of state and others in a position of decision-making in order to establish an environment suitable for project.
Tracey turned the page. The next document was devoted to Martin. There was all the basic information, but Tracey ignored that.
Gift: Ability to develop super strength.
Limitations: Subject must feel ridiculed for strength to emerge.
Project potential: Battle.
She read Jenna’s page next.
Gift: Ability to read thoughts of other human beings.
Characteristics: Subject must want to read the thoughts and must be able to concentrate. Object of mind-reading will not be aware of the process.
Limitations: Subject appears to be able to employ gift at will. Object who is aware of subject’s gift may be able to mentally block the process.
Project potential: Ability to determine loyalties and emotional states. Revelation of confidential information. Verification of intent.
Verification of intent . . . Tracey assumed that was just a fancy way of saying Jenna would know if someone was telling the truth.
The document devoted to Sarah was particularly intriguing. Under limitations, it stated: Subject has personal reasons for not wishing to exercise her gift. Must ascertain the nature of the reasons and resolve her reluctance so that gift may be exploited. And under Project potential, there was only one word: Unlimited.
There was a knock on the door. Hastily, she closed the folder and shoved it back in the file. She barely got the drawer closed before Clare entered the room and went to the door.
Serena-the-student-teacher-alias-Cassandra-the-medium was at the door, along with the man Tracey knew as Stuart Kelley.
‘What’s so important that we had to come rushing over here?’ Serena demanded to know.
‘It’s the Kelley girl. She left Harmony House this morning.’
Stuart’s eyebrows shot up. ‘She escaped?’
‘No, she was released early.’
‘Why?’ the man asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Clare replied. ‘The investigator just knew she’d left. I’m hoping the kid knows something.’
‘How could he know anything already?’ Serena asked. ‘It’s Saturday – there’s no school.’
Clare ignored her. ‘Here they come now.’
Mr Jackson and Carter arrived and within seconds they were all at the dining-room table. Jackson looked tense. Carter had no expression at all. Tracey took out her mobile phone and began moving around the table, snapping photos.
‘I can’t have her back at the school,’ Mr Jackson said flatly. ‘She’s too dangerous. I can’t be constantly thinking about what I’m thinking about.’
‘But you can block her,’ Clare pointed out.
‘Not if I don’t see her,’ he said. ‘She’s got a way of sneaking around. I’ve got over three hundred students at the school, I’ve got people running in and out of my office all day. I can’t know where she is every minute.’
‘I don’t understand why you’re so anxious about her,’ Serena said. ‘You don’t even know for sure if she’s interested in reading your mind.’
‘I didn’t like the way she was looking at me in the office the other day,’ Jackson grumbled.
‘You’re the principal – it’s natural for her to hate you,’ Stuart said. ‘A kid like her, she hates any kind of authority. Look, I know her better than the rest of you. I was almost her father. Just because she gives you dirty looks doesn’t mean she knows anything about you.’
‘These kids aren’t idiots,’ Jackson declared. ‘They’re going to put two and two together. They know you were a fraud. They know Clare’s out to get them, they’re suspicious of Serena . . . They’re going to start connecting the dots.’
Clare interrupted. ‘But they don’t know about you. They have no idea you’re involved.’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Jackson muttered. ‘The Beeson girl – she’s working in my office. She could be snooping around.’
Serena frowned. ‘Which one is she?’
‘The body snatcher,’ Clare told her.
Serena’s face cleared. ‘Oh, right. She came to one of my seances with Ken.’
Clare’s eyebrows went up. ‘You didn’t tell us that.’
Serena shrugged. ‘It was only the one time – she never showed up again.’
But Clare still looked disturbed. She turned to Carter, who hadn’t said a word. ‘Did Amanda say anything about the seance in class?’
In Tracey’s view, Carter looked exactly the way he would look if someone at school asked him a direct question. He just stared into space, not even acknowledging that he’d been addressed.
Clare appeared irritated. ‘Haven’t you brought him out yet?’ she asked Serena.
‘You haven’t given me a chance, have you?’ Serena snapped. She pulled her chair around so she could face Carter directly. She stared at him, so hard that Tracey could actually see her pupils enlarge. She didn’t blink at all. Then she began murmuring softly. Tracey couldn’t make out the words.
She spoke directly into the boy’s ear, her voice soft and rhythmic. Tracey moved closer, but even when she was practically on top of them, she couldn’t understand what Serena was saying. It was like gibberish, the same nonsense words over and over in a monotonous tone.
It was a good thing nobody here could hear her, because her gasp would have been audible. The change in Carter’s expression was dramatic. It was like a curtain had been lifted from his eyes. She hadn’t been able to see this when she watched through the window last night, so she was completely startled.
‘We want to ask you about Amanda,’ Serena said to him. ‘She came to one of the seances. Did she say anything about it in class?’
For the first time, Tracey heard Carter’s voice. It was slightly high-pitched, which made him sound very young. But other than that, it was normal.
‘Not just one seance,’ he said. ‘She went to all of them. Amanda was Margaret.’
Serena drew in her breath sharply. ‘Amanda took over Margaret’s body?’
‘Yes,’ Carter replied. ‘She felt sorry for her. She didn’t want to be Margaret, but it happened.’
‘Margaret . . .’ Jackson repeated, and frowned. Serena turned to him.
‘My friend, who was helping me out. She pretended to have just lost her mother. She came to a meeting – you met her. She was freaked out, she couldn’t handle that stay in jail. She was a nervous wreck, remember?’
‘Whatever happened to her?’ Stuart asked.
‘She had some sort of breakdown and she’s living with her parents in Florida.’ Suddenly, Serena gasped. ‘Ohmigod, it’s all starting to make sense! Her behaviour at the seance . . .’
It dawned on Tracey that she should be recording this conversation. Hurriedly, she fumbled with her mobile phone, looking for the little icon that would turn the phone into a recorder . . .
And it slipped out of her hand.
‘What’s that?’ Clare asked.
They were all staring at a mobile phone, which had suddenly appeared on the floor. Serena reached down and picked it up.
‘It’s not mine,’ she said.
Tracey tried
not to panic. OK, they had her phone. They’d see the pictures she’d taken. They might even be able to figure out that the phone belonged to her. But it wasn’t like they could do anything to her – they couldn’t even see her . . .
Then her stomach turned over. Because they weren’t looking at the phone any more. They were looking right at her. And they could see her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JENNA’S MOTHER WAS TRYING very hard to grasp the situation. ‘But why would the principal want to get rid of you, Jenna? You haven’t been in any trouble since you started at Meadowbrook.’
‘He’s afraid of me, Mom,’ Jenna explained. ‘Because I can read minds. I don’t know what he’s thinking about that’s so bad, but he doesn’t want me to find out.’
‘Why don’t you just tell him you won’t read his mind?’ Mrs Kelley suggested.
‘I don’t think he’d believe me,’ Jenna said.
‘Oh, dear,’ her mother sighed. ‘Jenna, couldn’t you just stop reading minds? It’s not really a very nice habit, is it?’
Jenna smiled. Her mother meant well, but she was no Dr Paley. She’d never be able to understand.
The doorbell rang. ‘That must be Emily,’ Mrs Kelley said. ‘She called earlier and I told her you were coming home.’
But it was a different classmate who stood in the doorway.
‘Ken!’
‘Emily called and told me you were home,’ he said. ‘I have to talk to you about something.’
‘Come on in. Mom, this is Ken Preston, from my class at Meadowbrook.’
‘Hello, Ken,’ her mother said brightly. ‘Would you kids like something to eat? There are cookies . . .’
‘No, thank you, Mrs Kelley,’ Ken said politely. ‘I just need to talk to Jenna about something. I won’t stay long.’
‘I’ll give you two some privacy,’ Mrs Kelley said, and disappeared into the kitchen.
‘She’s nice,’ Ken said.
Jenna nodded. She could remember a time when she would never have willingly allowed a classmate to meet her mother. She could also remember a time when the mere notion of Ken Preston showing up on her doorstep would have boggled her mind.
Now she wasn’t boggled, but she was puzzled. ‘What’s up?’
‘Tracey’s been invisible for a while,’ he began.
Jenna nodded. ‘I know. She came to see me at Harmony House.’
‘Well, she came to see me this morning. And she says . . .’ He frowned. ‘This is going to sound crazy. She claims she spied on a meeting. That Clare woman, Serena, the guy who said he was your father . . . and Mr Jackson!’
Slowly, Jenna nodded. ‘That doesn’t sound so crazy to me.’
‘But you haven’t heard the rest of it. She says Carter’s the spy, not Amanda. She says she actually saw him talking at this meeting.’
‘Wow!’ Jenna breathed. ‘I wouldn’t have guessed that.’
‘You believe her?’ Ken asked.
‘Tracey doesn’t lie, Ken.’
Ken frowned. ‘She said I should talk to Amanda. And to ask Amanda to tell me what she told her. Does that make sense to you?’
‘Yeah.’
Ken pulled out his mobile and just looked at it for a moment. ‘She’s gotta hate me. I mean, I haven’t exactly been very nice to her.’ Then, with a less-than-enthusiastic expression, he hit a number.
Jenna grinned. ‘You got her on speed-dial, huh?’
‘Forgot to take her off,’ he mumbled. ‘Hello, Amanda? This is Ken. Yeah. Um . . . are you busy? I mean, like, could I come by and talk to you about something? OK.’
He put the phone back in his pocket. ‘I’m going over there now.’
Jenna grabbed her jacket. ‘I’m going with you.’
He didn’t protest. In fact, Jenna could have sworn she saw relief in his eyes. She couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t want to face an irate Amanda alone either.
And she was glad Ken was by her side when Amanda opened the door. The look Amanda gave Jenna was a lot scarier than the one she gave Ken.
‘What’s she doing here?’ Amanda wanted to know.
‘Don’t worry, Amanda, I’m not armed,’ Jenna said.
Amanda sniffed, but she stepped aside and let them both in. Before Ken could say anything, she made a statement.
‘I am not the spy.’
‘I know, I know,’ Ken said. ‘Tracey told me.’
That didn’t seem to make Amanda any happier. ‘Oh, so you believe Tracey but you wouldn’t believe me.’
‘I want to believe you, Amanda!’ Ken exclaimed. ‘It’s just that, I don’t know, you get me all mixed up!’ Suddenly, his face was red. Jenna had the feeling he’d just admitted something he didn’t want to say.
And Amanda went pink. ‘You mix me up too!’ she blurted out. ‘I mean . . . Oh, never mind, just forget it.’
Ken looked like he was about to smile, but then thought better of it. ‘Well, for cryin’ out loud, Amanda, what was I supposed to think? I find out you were at that seance all the time, knowing full well that it was a scam, but you let me go on and make a fool of myself believing that woman was a real medium. I was pretty pissed off at you!’
‘Aw, you can’t blame her, Ken,’ Jenna broke in. ‘She got to be a twenty-five-year-old woman for a weekend. It opened up new shopping opportunities.’
Amanda glared at her, and Jenna actually backed down.
‘Sorry. I’m sure you had other reasons.’
‘No kidding. Look, I know what you guys think of me. You think my gift is worthless and I only think about myself. I wanted to show you that maybe I had something to offer. Like, I could find out more about these people who are out to get us. And I did.’
‘What did you find out?’ Ken asked.
Amanda smirked. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’
‘Oh, go ahead and tell him, Amanda,’ Jenna said.
Amanda narrowed her eyes. ‘Did Tracey tell you? She promised to keep it a secret.’
‘She didn’t have to tell me. I read her mind.’
‘She wouldn’t tell me either,’ Ken said. ‘Tracey told me to ask you to tell me what you told her.’ He grimaced. ‘Did that make sense?’
‘I guess so,’ Amanda replied with clear reluctance. She paused dramatically. Jenna had an enormous urge to scream, ‘Spill the beans, Amanda,’ but she managed to keep her mouth shut. She knew the girl would want to make the most of this moment.
First, they had to hear the tale of her two hours in jail as Margaret, her desperate attempts to get back into her own body, her fear of never seeing the light of day again, blah, blah, blah. Someone bailed both her and Serena/Cassandra out of jail, and they went immediately to a meeting in a nondescript suburban house on an ordinary tree-lined street.
‘And there they were at the dining table, the conspirators,’ Amanda said. ‘Clare, the kidnapper. Stuart Kelley. And . . .’ she paused dramatically.
Jenna couldn’t stand it any longer. ‘Mr Jackson.’
Amanda’s eyes shot daggers at her, but she was distracted and rewarded with Ken’s wide-eyed reaction.
‘So it is true?’
Amanda nodded solemnly. ‘He’s one of them, Ken. The second I saw him, the shock sent me right back into myself. But I decided I was going to find out more about this. That’s why I took the job in his office, so I could spy on him. On Mr Jackson, Ken. Not you guys.’
Ken offered a weak smile. ‘OK, I was wrong about you. I’m sorry.’
Amanda affected the look of a martyr. ‘I just wanted to prove to you all that I could do something to help us.’
‘Did it ever occur to you that we could have all worked together and accomplished more?’ Jenna asked.
Amanda made a face at her. ‘Look who’s talking. Miss Sociability. Since when have you been into teamwork?’
‘Since I came to grips with reality,’ Jenna shot back. ‘You should give it a try sometime.’ She turned to Ken.
‘Can I use your phone? I want to make some cal
ls.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HOW LONG HAD SHE been here? Lying on a bed, Tracey stared at the ceiling and realized that she’d completely lost track of time. She had a vague memory of being brought into this bedroom, but when? She felt dizzy and disoriented. Had they given her some kind of drug? Or was she just suffering from the shock of suddenly finding herself made of flesh and blood and bones again?
The clouds in her head began to float away and she started thinking more clearly. Serena had probably hypnotized her, and she was just now coming out of it.
She was quite a hypnotist, that Serena. Tracey always thought hypnosis could only happen if the subject cooperated, if the subject was willing to be put under. Tracey certainly hadn’t given permission.
And what kind of hypnosis had she been using on Carter? From what she’d observed, it was like he was in a constant state of hypnosis, and she brought him out of it only when they wanted information.
But all these questions could be put on hold. Right now she had to concentrate on getting out of there.
She got off the bed and grabbed on to a bedpost as a fresh wave of dizziness swept over her. Her legs were trembling too. But the sensations passed, and she made her way to the door. She wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Of course, she was being held prisoner. And even if she went invisible, she couldn’t get through a locked door.
But they’d come in here sooner or later, she assumed, and if she was invisible, she could slip out while the door was open. She tried to concentrate, to pull up the feelings that could make her disappear.
You’re worthless, you’re alone, nobody sees you, nobody cares about you, you’re depressed . . .
It wasn’t working – she was still all there. Maybe Serena had given her some post-hypnotic suggestion . . .
There were windows in the bedroom. She went over to them and examined the latches.
With the sound of a lock turning, she faced the door. Clare stood there. ‘What are you doing?’
What could Tracey say – ‘Admiring the view?’ It was a stupid question.
‘I’m trying to get out,’ she replied.
‘Well, you can’t,’ Clare said. ‘Come with me.’
