Mind Waves
Page 13
The clock ticked the seconds away endlessly but did not disturb the woman on the couch, who might have slept the day away if not for the pretty gray bird in the gold cage. “Out, out, out.”
Harvey’s screeching finally broke into Grace’s dream, and she awoke disoriented. She spent some minutes trying to figure out what she was doing on the couch in her clothes. For the life of her, she could not remember how she got there. She must have slept well because she felt rested. Harvey continued squawking in his cage. “Romeo, Romeo.”
“I wish.” Grace sighed. “No Romeo here. Just little old Juliet.”
She yawned and stretched, arching her back like a cat after a good nap. She looked at the clock. Noon! She counted the hours on her fingers until she reached fifteen. Could she have slept that long? By the rumblings in her belly, she must have. Grace was hungry.
She went to the fridge, but all she could find was a left-over container of pot roast. She took it out and sniffed it over. It looked okay, but since Grace couldn’t recall where it came from or how long it had been sitting around, she pitched it. The only other option was a carton of yogurt or a ham sandwich, neither of which sounded filling. She needed much heartier fare. Grace would go to Coffersations. They offered egg and cheese bagel, plus she could get good coffee to clear the cobwebs in her brain.
“Hello, David.” Harvey called as she passed by his cage. Grace gave him a puzzled look. When she thought she’d heard them all, Harvey demonstrated that his vocabulary was boundless. An old boyfriend of Claire’s?
As she grabbed her jacket to head out, she noticed the pile of bills on the kitchen table. She needed to get cracking on her next job, or she was not going to make her condo payment. The usual anxiety kicked in as she worried over how to make ends meet. She took her notebook with her. That’s where she recorded all her ideas and possible clients.
Yesterday, her mother’s neighbor, Nancy Gordon, expressed an interest in having Grace design a small mosaic piece for her patio. Nancy was eighty-five and still kicking. She was a sweet lady but talked a lot and was opinionated. It was hard to get a word in edgewise. Grace did not relish having to listen to all her stories and hints on how to design the piece. But unless she could find a better offer, she was going to have to work with Nancy. She was paying Grace three hundred dollars in advance to do the job and another eight hundred when it was completed.
When she left her condo, it was raining. It was a light mist, and she had her umbrella, so she decided to walk the short block to the coffee shop. The bell on the door rang its familiar greeting as Grace entered, causing déjà vu and an adrenaline rush. Of course, she came to the coffee shop a lot, so the déjà vu part wasn’t surprising. But why the excitement? She shrugged off the strange feeling.
Grace made her way to the counter and ordered brunch. The shop was not crowded, so she was able to get her food quickly. She took it to a corner table and tried hard not to ravish it. For a few minutes, she enjoyed her meal in silence, but soon enough, she opened her notebook and considered her options. Grace was contemplating getting in touch with a college friend who was a marketing manager for a local steel company, when a dark shadow fell across her notebook.
“Hello Grace.” Without waiting for her to respond, the man pulled the chair out across from her and sat. “How’ve you been?”
“Greg! What…how…what are you doing here?”
“Would you believe me if I said I happened to be in the neighborhood?”
“No.” What the hell? Grace studied him. His face looked flushed. Whatever Greg was here to tell her, she wasn’t going to like it. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. This is about you. Brice told me you contacted him to make a pitch.”
“Yes, I did. But he wasn’t interested.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“No.”
“You don’t need to look so suspicious. He had a good reason. He has another project he thinks you will like better. It’s great. You’ll be working with one of his best customers.”
“So why not tell me himself? Why send my cheating ex-husband to tell me?”
“He didn’t send me. He has no idea I’m even here. Look, he mentioned you’d been in to see him. He was in a pickle. He needs an artist right away to consult with one of his top clients. I suggested you might be perfect for this new assignment. I know you’re hurting for cash. It’s the least I can do.”
“And how would you know I’m hurting for cash. I haven’t talked to you since you told me about the first assignment.” She watched him closely. He looked at his hands, a clear sign there was something he didn’t want her to know. “You’ve talked to Claire, haven’t you?”
“Well, I was concerned about you.” His tone was defensive. “And I knew you wouldn’t talk to me. It was the only way I knew to find out how you were and what you were up to.”
“Claire should not have talked to you. My finances are none of your business anymore.”
“Look, regardless of what you think of me, do you want the job or not? I talked to Brice, and he’s willing to commission you.”
Grace wanted so badly to tell him where to go. But she kept thinking about the pile of bills at home and her empty bank account. “When would I start?” she asked reluctantly.
He smiled. “I knew you’d come around. You can start Monday. They’re having a meeting with the client. Brice said if you wanted the job you’re to meet them at the office at 8:30 a.m. sharp. I’ll let them know that you’ll be there.”
“Wait a minute. What are they willing to pay?”
“That’s the great part—this client is loaded. He’ll meet your hourly rate for consultation as long as the project takes. I took the liberty of telling him you charge seventy-five dollars an hour.”
It did not sit well with her to feel beholden to Greg. And she didn’t trust him. There must be something more than an appeased conscience in this for him. But for the life of her, she couldn’t think what. Grace forced herself to say the right thing. She pushed the words through her clenched mouth. “Greg, thank you for suggesting me. I do need the work.”
He reached across the table and tried to grab her hand, but she snatched it away. “I’m appreciative,” she said. “But don’t touch me.”
“Fine, fine.” He shrugged, rose, and pushed his chair in. He leaned, placing his hands on the table. “Grace, I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but I want you to know I’m sorry. Really.” He turned his back, and she watched him walk out of the coffee shop.
The whole conversation made her skin crawl. The slime had neatly turned the tables. Not only was she beholden to him for a job, but she was also the unforgiving and resentful one. How did he always do that to her? Heʼd cheated on her. With a coworker! One he was no doubt still with! Grace had a right to be angry.
She stood, grabbed her notebook, and left the shop, stewing on Greg’s audacity all the while. It didn’t matter how many jobs he got her, Grace would never forget his treachery. She had given him her heart and rather than cherish it, he had stepped on it. She pictured it in her chest, bruised and bleeding. Seeing Greg made her realize it still hurt.
Thankfully, it had stopped raining, so she pulled out her phone to call Claire. Her sister answered on the first ring and was talking before Grace could say hello. “So you know how you’ve been having all those weird dreams lately? You must have rubbed off on me because I had a weird one last night, too.”
“What weird dreams?” Grace asked.
“Don’t act all mysterious. You know those weird dreams where a handsome man makes you do things. Well, I had one last night. I dreamt I was in our old house—the one in Parma. At first I was complaining to Burt and in walks this gorgeous guy. He tells Burt to get lost and he looks at me.”
“And?”
“And he tells me to do something, but I don’t remember what it was. I don’t remember anything else. The dream kind of ended. Now I wish he would have at least kissed me or something. We could have had kinky dream sex.�
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“Oh, Lord. Speaking of weird, I had the strangest thing happen. I saw Greg, and he offered me a job.”
“Really? That’s fabulous. When do you start?”
“Don’t you ‘oh really’ me. You knew I would run into him, didn’t you? You told him I was broke!”
“I’ll kill him! Greg wasn’t supposed to say anything! Grace, I’m sorry. Truly. He promised me he only wanted to do you a good turn. He feels guilty and wanted to make it up to you. I knew you were short on cash so I kind of hinted getting you a job might be a way to ask forgiveness.”
“I admit I do need the work. But I’m not happy he knows about my financial picture. You shouldn’t have told him that. And you shouldn’t have told him where to find me. I would prefer you gave him my email. He caught me so off-guard.”
“But I didn’t tell him where to find you. All I told him was you needed a job. I swear.” Claire’s tone had a note of sincerity in it.
“Yeah…well…I still don’t like that he knows my financial situation. And now I feel like I owe him. Which I hate.” She spat the last word into the phone.
“I’m sorry. I knew you were bummed about not getting the Gallant job. And I knew you would never ask Greg yourself. I thought it was a little thing I could do for you.”
“Please tell me you did not call him!”
“It was a quick call. I asked him if he knew you had interviewed with Gallant. He had. I asked him if he could influence Brice, and he said he would. That’s it. I swear.”
Grace sighed. Getting mad at Claire wouldn’t change a thing. And she knew her heart was in the right place. But it galled her to know Claire and Greg had been talking about her behind her back. Greg had cheated on her for crying out loud. Her family should be angry on her behalf, not consorting with the enemy.
“So are you mad at me?”
“Yes! I don’t like you talking to Greg about me. Oh, I’ll get over it, I’m sure. I do need the money. But don’t call him again, okay? I don’t want to owe him any more favors.”
“Of course. I won’t. I promise. Cross my heart. Grace, I have to go. Tom’s sister is calling. She’s driving me nuts. I’ll see you Friday at the airport.”
“Wait…what did you mean about me having weird dreams? Oh, never mind. I know you have to run. See you Friday.”
Grace disconnected, slightly less annoyed than before the call. It was nice she and her sister had the kind of relationship where they could clear the air right away. It was hard to stay mad at Claire for long. Her ex-husband—now that was a different story. She could cheerfully wring his neck and Brittany’s, too.
Grace let herself into her condo. The first thing she needed to do was to call the bank and see what she could do about her mortgage payment. She was hoping they would give her a slight extension, although she guessed it might cost her, since this was not the first time she hadn’t made a payment on time.
She rang the branch and asked to speak to the manager. They put her through. “Hello, Mel? It’s me, Grace Woznisky.” They had been on a first-name basis since the last time she couldn’t meet her mortgage payment. Grace hoped Mel would be as understanding.
“Well, hello, Grace. How are you today?”
“Fine. Well, not really. The reason for my call is I’m afraid I’m going to be late on my October mortgage payment. I was wondering if there was anything you could do to help me out again. Business has not been good lately, although I did land a new opportunity that is expected to pay well. I start Monday, and I’m going to ask for an advance so I’m fairly sure I should be able to make payment relatively quickly after the first of the month.”
“Let me look up your account. What was that number?”
Grace gave it to him.
“Let’s see now. Hmmm. Well, now. You say you won’t be able to make payment because of lack of funds in your account?”
“Yes, that’s right. I won’t have enough funds to cover that payment along with all my other expenses this month.”
“Strange. Your account indicates you have a current balance of eleven thousand two hundred thirty three dollars and twenty-nine cents.”
“I…What!? That can’t be right. Of course, I wish it was right. But there must have been some mistake.”
“Ummm…hmmm. Well, I see there was a deposit into your account on August 18 of ten thousand dollars.”
“There was? How can that be? I mean…I haven’t had work for several weeks now. Where did the funds come from? Much as I’d love to claim the money, I’m pretty sure it’s not mine.”
“It looks like you received a wire from a credit union. It appears to be a legitimate deposit. You don’t know why someone would have deposited this money into your account?”
“I wish I did. But honestly, I don’t think that’s my money.”
“Well, I’ll certainly check into this for you. Let me do that, and I’ll call you back.”
They hung up. Grace couldn’t believe it. It had to be a mistake. Some poor old lady was scratching her head trying to figure out where her retirement income had gone. Grace had done the honest thing in letting them know it wasn’t hers.
Her cell phone rang. The bank. She answered.
“Hello, Grace?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Mel. Everything appears to be right and tight. That money was wired from a source that prefers to remain anonymous. They refuse to be identified but have confirmed you’re entitled to the cash. It’s yours free and clear.”
Grace nearly dropped the phone. She was lucky there was a couch behind her because her legs collapsed from under her, and she practically fell onto it. “Grace, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m having a hard time believing this isn’t a dream.”
“It’s not a dream I can assure you. Looks like you don’t have to worry about your mortgage payment or any other bills this month. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Thank you for all your help. But why would someone donate ten thousand dollars to me? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I assure you the donor is legitimate. The funds are yours free and clear.”
“Okay, well, thank you. Thank you so much.”
“You’re quite welcome. Anything else I can do for you?”
“No, that is all I needed. Thanks again, Mel. Goodbye.”
Grace flung her phone aside a bit breathlessly. Ten thousand dollars. In my checking account. That was enough to pay all her bills this month and some. For the life of her, Grace could not imagine who her anonymous donor was and how she could have possibly deserved it. Claire and her mom did not have this kind of money. Greg did, but she had seen the way he had been during the divorce. She had had to fight him for half of what they owned, which was hard because at the time, she had been so angry she didn’t want anything from him except her dignity. But she’d needed the money to afford a place to live. She thought hard. There was no one else that might know her financial situation that would care enough to try and gift her with cash. She was stumped.
Chapter Twenty
Back to Business
David was getting closer. The rogue hacker was starting to get nervous. He could tell because for the first time David had found a trace of his presence in a mind that wasn’t Grace’s. Unfortunately, the mind happened to be her sister’s. The hacker must have been in a hurry because he had left behind a telltale wisp of energy—not enough for David to track to its source but an important clue as to his state of mind. The hacker was having trouble containing all of his energy during his mind probes. Controlling energy was a vital part of the job. A hacker that could not control every energy wave put themselves and all who depended on them in jeopardy. David imprinted the foreign energy on his mind.
He had spent the afternoon doing what was necessary to ensure Grace’s safety and that meant removing her mother and sister’s memories of him. The hacker would not find any reason to harm Grace when he returned tonight as David was sure he would do. And when he returned, Davi
d would be ready for him.
*****
Two thousand miles away, the hacker smiled ruthlessly. He knew he was smarter and stronger than all the rest. He was in control of his destiny, no one else. He frowned. It had not always been this way. A long time ago, they had tried to break him. It still made him angry when he recalled the names they used to label him. A little boy who had lost his mother.
I showed them all, didn’t I? He was so much smarter and stronger than any of them realized. Not one of them had made it out of the slums, where they had all got their start. He and Kaitlyn had seen to that.
And women loved him. He read it in their minds. They thought he was so handsome. Dazzled by his dimples. He liked the alliteration. They could not respond fast enough to his requests. He let out a deep chuckle. The irony was not lost on him. He had come a long way from the slums of Detroit. He had indeed shown them all.
He frowned. Except Grace. She was not dazzled like the others. Jenkinsʼs fault. Grace had fallen for the weakling. Allowed him to place a portal in her mind. Well, they would all be jumping to his tune in the end. Especially Jenkins. When this game was done, Jenkins would be a puppet on a string, and he would hold the string. The thought made him gleeful. He would never be made to feel worthless again. He would call all the shots. With some effort, he reined in his emotions. The closer he came to success, the harder they became to contain.
Grace was meant to be the mother of his children. Her genes would effectively carry his talent to the next generation. He had stolen a few memories to keep Jenkins off the scent, and it had worked. But those memories were mostly useless to him. What he needed was all of Grace.
She was the key to cracking Jenkins’s mind. Once he had Grace under his belt (he smiled at the analogy), Jenkins would be like a docile kitten. The first step was accomplished. Jenkins had removed Grace’s memories. But he needed to find a way to eliminate Jenkins’s portal.
He puzzled over that for a while. He could hire a hit man. But with his high profile, if anyone got suspicious, he and Kaitlyn would have their hands full trying to cover their tracks. They had been successful this long because they worked alone. He did not relish bringing someone else into the fold. No, the easiest solution was Grace herself. He needed to convince her mind Jenkins was not safe. To do that, she would need to believe he was her protector.