Chapter Forty-One
Kayci tried every second not to think of Jordan, but every second was a wasted one without him. It was killing her to be away from him, but she kept telling herself it was for the best. It was too easy for Nathan to find them while they were together. That had to be how he’d known they were there in Costa Rica.
The car stopped and the agent in the driver seat said, “You’re in room three-fifteen. You’ll be contacted in a few hours.”
Kayci exited the vehicle and walked into the Marriot. She didn’t even glance over at the congestion of Times Square. This was the most populated spot in the city, the easiest place for Nathan to find her. She didn’t really like the idea of being a piece of bait, but it was the best way possible to draw him out and into the FBI net. With all these people, her frequency would be at the highest possible point on the plane, and even an amateur psychic would spot her modulation line.
She slid her keycard into the door and went into the room. Not surprisingly, a classic NSA spy suitcase sat on the bed.
When she’d told Jordan it was time to set this straight, she meant it. The only way to do that was to keep him out of it. If the NSA really knew how much of an asset he could be, they’d exploit him in a second. That was exactly what Nathan warned about, and she knew damn well if he ended up in custody, he’d spill that nugget just to bargain. She had no choice but to kill Nathan. Turning him over to the FBI was not an option.
If she were successful, killing Nathan would virtually kill her powers. It would almost certainly cause a break in her mind that could never be repaired. At the very least, it would take years to get back on par with the average carnival psychic.
Perhaps it was the universe’s way of keeping things in check, but when one opened that intimate network link between two psychics, it couldn’t be broken in any way by the other person. That is why she couldn’t kill Nathan, and he couldn’t kill her. But she had no choice. To protect Jordan, she had to do it.
She flopped onto the bed and bore her stare into the smooth white ceiling. Without thinking about it, her mind faded into the frequency plane, where she searched for Jordan among the thousands of modulation lines, shuffling them at blurring speed. When she found him, she only monitored, but didn’t dare to connect. If Nathan were monitoring he would know in a second where Jordan was. He would see the spark of their connection.
She focused back on the room. This was a place she could get used to. The dark blue carpeting and off-white walls were soothing though contrasting. The furniture was all high-end and the large queen bed very plush.
She stripped out of her beach-stained clothes, went into the bathroom, turned on the single-knob shower, and climbed into the stream of hot water. It was a welcome cleanse.
Chapter Forty-Two
Caden Taylor closed his eyes. He wasn’t surprised to discover Kayci was in New York alone. He expected it. It was all part of the FBI playbook to draw Nathan into a trap.
He shifted his attention to Nathan’s frequency, and as usual, he was blocking, so he picked up his cell phone and tabbed the contact. Nathan answered on the first ring.
“She’s here in New York,” Caden said.
“Send me the details,” Nathan replied.
“I tried. You’re blocking and I don’t feel like wasting the energy to take down the wall.”
“Fine, I’ll open a path for you.”
Caden sent the data fast as lightning. They didn’t call him The Link for nothing, he was the best on the planet, and everyone knew it. He manipulated the fools at the NSA to do what he wanted, and they couldn’t stop him.
“That’s Times Square,” Nathan stated. “Why would she do that?”
Caden shook his head. “Because, you idiot, that’s the way I wanted it. The FBI thinks you’re going to fall into their trap.”
“She’s expecting me.”
“But she’s not expecting us.”
“No, Caden, that’s not wise.”
Caden laughed. “This is the end game, Nathan. There’s nothing to hide anymore. We follow the plan, we kill her, and then we’re done, out of the game forever.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t matter. I’ve been presumed dead almost two decades already. I just want the money. That’s all I’ve wanted since I started this. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Jordan was happy to say goodbye to Syracuse, to head south out of the cold winters. The lush mountains and rolling hills of New York were beautiful during the green months, but he needed to get back to his roots for a while. He needed to be near the ocean again.
The cool thing about growing up where he did in New Jersey was that in ten minutes, you could be at the beach, and in thirty minutes, New York City. It was a paradise for a normal kid. Of course, he was never quite normal, not since he was thirteen.
He decided he would visit Teresa, his mother. She had him young, and was blessed with drop-dead gorgeous looks that had not waned yet. She was five-foot-ten and usually passed for his older sister most of his life.
His father, Jason Callahan, joined the Marines when he was eighteen, leaving his pregnant wife to make a better life for them. He died during basic training in a freak accident when the Jeep he was riding in crashed off the road and hit a tree. Jason had taken his helmet off because of the heat and suffered a brain injury from which he never woke up.
He picked up his cell and dialed his mother.
“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”
“Hey, baby, where are you?” Teresa had a hard Brooklyn-slash-New Jersey accent.
“I was thinking about coming by for a visit, just a few days until I figure out where I’m going. Is that cool?”
“Of course, kiddo. You know you’re always welcome.”
“How’re you doing, Mom?”
“I’m good, I’m good…just been working. You know, those bastards are never going to promote me to upper management. I don’t know why I bother busting my ass around there.”
“How’s Claire?” Claire was his mother’s best friend since high school.
“Oh, you know Claire. She’s living here now, gettin’ a divorce from that dipshit Marty finally. She found out he was cheating on her with the neighbor down on River Road. You know that guy, the one that runs the Seagate Marina?”
“Yeah.”
“That guy’s wife has been screwing Marty. But Claire is having the last laugh. Since she’s been living with me she’s lost eighty pounds. She looks amazing. I finally got her to stop eating all that fast food garbage. You’re not eating that crap, are you?”
“No, Mom.” Jordan rolled his eyes. He wasn’t lying. He never ate the stuff. He would not dare tell her about the greasy burger from the diner.
“Good, that shit’ll kill you.”
“So, Mom, I’ll probably be there in a couple hours.”
“No problem, honey. Claire is in your old room, but the basement still has the fold-out. You’ll be comfortable down there.”
“That’s fine.”
“You still got that cat?”
“Yeah.”
“Well you better have a litter pan ‘cuz I don’t have any pets in here.”
“We’re covered.”
“Okay, kiddo, we’ll see you. I ove ya.”
“Love you too.”
He ended the call. He did love his mother, but she was exhausting. She was always so full of energy and happiness it was a lot to take. Jordan always thought it was overcompensation when he was younger, and that inside she was feeling horrible or something. But the older he got, the more he understood that’s just the way she was. Her sadness might be inside somewhere, but it didn’t drag her down. To Teresa life was a party, and she was not wasting a single second of it.
Jordan always felt his condition would’ve been so much worse had his mother not been so upbeat about it. She chalked everything he’d seen up to karma, insisting he was not living a clean life, eating junk food or
drinking booze, perhaps. He always insisted that was not the case, but she would turn a cynical smile and say the same thing: “Someday you’ll understand.”
***
The basement was exactly as it had been since Jordan was a kid. He looked around the yellow walls of the finished basement. New York Mets posters were still prominent on one side, and the other side had a New York Rangers poster and hockey cards stuck to the walls. Most of the time playing with his friends or watching television was spent in this basement. The bedroom upstairs was only for sleeping.
He heard the familiar sound of the door at the top of the stairs creek open. It was amazing that after all these years those hinges still sounded the same.
“Well, hello, handsome.”
Jordan turned his head to see Claire. She had always been heavy since he’d known her. “Claire.” He gave her a long hug. “You look great.”
She stepped back from their embrace and gave Jordan the once over. “Look at you. You’re face is all chiseled now and you’ve got muscles.”
“You look…wow…Mom wasn’t kidding.”
“I dropped a few pounds, dyed my hair red, no big deal. What’s it been, like ten years since I saw you?” Claire crossed her arms.
“Yeah, give or take.”
“So,” her tone changed, “how’ve you been doing, you know, with…” She was someone Jordan always confided in as he might an older sister. She’d often kept on eye on Jordan when his mother traveled for work.
“Well, let’s just say a lot has changed recently. It’s actually different now. Things are good.”
Claire raised her brow. “Really, no kidding?”
“No kidding.”
“You’re mother won’t say it, but she worries about you, worries that seeing all those bad things was going to ruin you.”
Jordan nodded. “Well, honestly, things were getting bad until just a couple weeks ago. But it’s better. I can’t really go into it, but trust me.”
Claire turned an inverted smile and gave him another hug. “Well, it’s good to see you. Your Mom is thrilled you’re here. So, how long are you staying?”
“Dunno yet. I don’t have a timeline right now, maybe a while longer than usual.”
“I hope you don’t mind staying down here.”
“You kidding? I love this basement. It’s got a bathroom, a microwave, toaster oven, a fold out couch. This is as nice as any apartment I’ve had the last decade.”
“Your mother should be home later. She’s been doing prep work for a conference this week and is pulling late nights. She may not want to wake you when she comes in, so we’ll see you in the morning.” Claire headed back to the heavy wooden steps.
Claire was a good person. No. She was a great person. He never felt bad about leaving his mother alone as long as Claire was still just down the street a few doors away. Now she was getting away from that husband, she was much better off.
He pulled out the sleeper sofa and flopped on his back. Being home again was exactly what he needed. It made the pain of missing Kayci easier to take. He did miss her.
Kicking off his sneakers felt good. Stuffing the pillow under his head felt better. The rest was so welcome. Stormy jumped up on the bed as usual and snuggled up next to him.
Sleep came quickly.
Chapter Forty-Four
It was two o’clock in the morning when Jordan woke with an unnatural fear gripping him. He knew right away. Kayci was in trouble. He didn’t know exactly how he knew or what kind of trouble she was in, but there was no doubt something was wrong.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and slipped on his Nikes. Eyes closed he looked on the frequency plane for a brief second, trying to lock in on Kayci’s signature. The connection was there, but he was unable to force his will and open the link.
Looking around, he found his keys, but his phone was not where he’d left it. He quickly spotted it on the other side of the room, plugged in. He let out a small huff of recognition when he realized his mother must have come in while he was sleeping and plugged it in. The power bar was full so he unplugged the device and headed up the stairs.
As he got to the door that led outside, he paused just an inch from the doorknob. Something about this was all wrong. He briefly thought it was all in his head, just a big nothing.
He took out his phone and tried to call Kayci, but realized he did not have her number. He’d picked up this new phone at the airport, but Kayci didn’t send him any number to reach her.
He stuffed the cell in his pocket and headed outside. Creeping slowly by the windows, he was making every effort not to wake his mother. Her bedroom was just above his head.
As he shuffled along the sidewalk between the low green bushes, a voice stopped him.
“Hey.”
Jordan sighed. “Hi, Mom.”
“Where’re you going?”
“I have to meet a friend.”
“A friend, huh”
“I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“Trouble?” she asked.
Jordan hesitated for a slight second too long.
“You’re in some kind of trouble.”
“No, Mom, don’t worry. I’ll explain everything when I get back.”
Jordan did not wait around for a lecture. He trotted off to the black SUV and drove away. He hated lying to his mother. And she could always tell when he was full of it. She was a complex individual. For as happy as she could be, she was also a pit bull when it came to protecting her son.
Jordan jumped on Route-Nine and headed north. At first, he didn’t know exactly where he was going, but then it slowly started to come to him. He was heading to Hoboken, near the river.
Traffic was light at this time of night, and he was able to make excellent time. The blazing lights of New York City lit up the sky like a forest fire, and he was driving right into the embers.
He eased off the highway and onto the tiny surface streets of Hoboken. He headed down to the end of Washington Street, pulled into the parking lot at the end, and killed the engine.
The instant vacuum of silence cleared his mind. He reached out to Kayci, but she was already reaching out to him. He got out of the Explorer and headed over to the docks. Without considering the consequences of theft, he grabbed a small aluminum rowboat and launched it off the concrete pier.
He picked up the long paddles and started driving the oars into the water, heading toward a large fifty-foot cruising vessel bobbing about five hundred feet offshore. It was not quite a yacht, but it wasn’t far off.
There was almost no doubt in his head this was where he needed to go, and that scared him. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing, but he felt compelled to do it. He just knew Kayci needed him, and there was no time to debate it.
Reaching the boat, he pulled up close and hooked the oar into one of the side anchors. He leveraged himself close enough to reach up and take hold of the deck rail and pulled himself up and onto the boat.
He was quiet, listening, but no one was stirring. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull was the only sound. The nearly full moon was at his shoulder looming over the scene.
A part of him said to get the hell out of here, to get back on the rowboat and paddle his ass back to the pier. He looked over the side and considered it, but the rowboat had already drifted fifty feet away in the swift. He could swim to the shore, he did choose the waterproof phone, but the surface was choppy tonight, and that would be risky.
He decided to press on, heading around toward the front of the boat. About midway down the starboard side, a door stood open to the cabin.
Jordan walked into the cabin. A strange man was sitting there, eyes closed, in some meditation trance, hands palm-up on his knees, long slender nose in the air. He was tall and lean, fair-haired and, oddly, dressed exactly like Jordan was in a black T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. He had blond hair and small wire-rimmed glasses. He knew this man, the man he saw in his head watching them at the diner.
The man snapped his eyes open, his thin lips spreading into a joker’s smile. “Hello, Jordan.” Jordan knew at once he’d made a horrible mistake. He’d been fooled, his mind hacked.
He turned to run, but another man appeared in the doorway, holding a large silver pistol. It was Nathan Pratt.
Nathan smiled. “We meet again.”
Jordan turned back to the other man, who was still sitting on one of the benches that lined two walls of the well-lit cabin.
“Please, have a seat,” the man invited.
“I’d rather stand,” Jordan replied.
“I’d rather you sit.”
Jordan took a deep breath and blew it out. There was no hand to play here, so he sat.
“My name is Caden Taylor. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m surprised you came so easily. I was worried we’d overestimated your feelings for her.” Caden stood and crossed the cabin, took hold of a bottle of red wine, and pulled out a shelf that stowed into the wall. “Would you like a glass?” he asked of Jordan.
“No, thank you.”
Caden poured a single glass and walked back to his seat. “You must care for her a great deal.”
Jordan didn’t reply.
“Well, no need to answer, obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be here. I knew I couldn’t compel her. But it occurred to me that perhaps your weak mind would be ripe for the picking. We just have to hope that she cares enough for you to come to us.”
“She won’t,” Jordan offered.
Caden sipped the wine and admired the liquid in the bright florescent lights. “I’m betting she will. In fact, I’m betting about fifty million dollars she does.”
Jordan couldn’t believe his mind had betrayed him, manipulated by this man, whoever he was. A rage grew inside him. He wanted to do something, but his mind felt like it was in restraints. With concerted effort, Jordan broke the mental chains and lashed out.
In a flash, he moved on Nathan, going for the gun, trying to wrest it away. Jordan turned his body into Nathan’s to get behind the gun and drove his elbow hard into his ribs. Then he unleashed a hard left elbow into his Nathan’s face.
Savior Frequency (Frequency Series Book 1) Page 19
