Trouble In Mind (Interstellar Rescue Series Book 2)

by Donna S. Frelick

  Alana’s gaze narrowed. “Are you also a psychiatrist of some sort, sir?”

  “No.”

  “A hypnotherapist?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then how do you expect to be able to help?”

  He shrugged. “I have my ways. Some people would consider them somewhat . . . unconventional.”

  Her lips curved. His breath stopped.

  “Really. Okay. Maybe I should sit in on your meeting today, see for myself.”

  He almost laughed. He hadn’t planned on this, but he could see no real harm in it. He would leave her behind long before he got to the point where the chase got dangerous.

  “Why not?”

  Her smile widened, revealing white, even teeth, and she waved a hand toward the office. “After you, Mr. Cruz.”

  “Thank you, Agent Matheson. And, please, call me Gabriel.”

  “Might as well call me Lana,” she murmured as he passed her. “We’re going to be very close friends from now on.”

  The words, the breathy whisper of their delivery, her scent, caught in the air as he passed—all sent the blood rushing to Gabriel’s groin so fast his head spun. He had to force himself to keep walking against an irrepressible urge to take her in his arms, to bend his head to those lush, full lips and drink until they were both dizzy and falling down drunk. He looked at Lana in alarm, unsure of himself, unsure of her. This was not something he experienced. Ever. Interest, yes. Lust, even. But this? This was . . . God, what the hell was this?

  She was watching him again. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Gabriel admonished himself to forget about the woman for a moment and get down to business. Ethan was so clearly in need of help, and it was past time he got started. He approached the man and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “Morning, Ethan. Did you sleep?”

  Ethan shook his head. “I’ve got some pain meds. I’ll take some later.”

  Rayna, watching them from a post by the window, didn’t bother to hide her concern. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all morning. I’ll be here in case anything happens. You need to get some rest.”

  “I’ll be all right.” Ethan glanced at Gabriel and managed a brief smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t have compared this to sex. I’m feeling like a virgin, and, no offense, but I’m not sure I even like you.”

  Gabriel laughed, impressed by Ethan’s attempt at humor. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” He found a seat on the couch and gestured for Ethan to sit next to him. Then he saw the shocked look on Lana’s face and wanted to laugh again. “Are you sure you want to be a part of this?”

  She hooked a hip up on the desk, folded her arms over her chest and gave him a sultry smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  “I do love an open mind.” His own smile began to fade as he settled into himself in preparation for what he was about to do. Rayna closed the doors to the room and took a seat in the armchair next to the desk. The room was quiet, expectant, the sounds of the morning filtering in from outside like the sunshine through the windows.

  When he was ready, Gabriel laid a hand on Ethan’s forearm and closed his eyes. “What’s the first thing you remember about yesterday, Ethan?”

  There was chaos in Ethan’s mind for a moment, a riot of images, most of them passing too quickly for Gabriel to catch them. Anything that stood out was from more recently—this morning, last night, yesterday afternoon as he’d talked with the police.

  Gabriel spoke to him again, his quiet voice leading him. “Try to calm down and just think of one thing. The first thing. Waking up yesterday morning.”

  The images slowed, focused. A face—her face, so sexy and warm, just coming out of sleep. He bent to kiss her and the touch of her lips was all it took to ignite the fire in him. She breathed his name and moved to straddle him, taking him in as his body went up in flames . . .

  “Son of a bitch!” Ethan pulled his arm back like he’d been bitten and curled his fingers into a fist. Their connection broken, he sat glaring at Gabriel, his chest heaving.

  Gabriel met the man’s gaze without heat, though his own throat strangled his breath. His heart hammered, he was hard and aching, as if he had been making love to Asia Roberts that morning. He felt Ethan’s love for her; he knew the depth of their intimacy. As always, he felt like the worst kind of voyeur.

  Rayna simply waited, watching. She’d been through this with him before.

  Lana looked from Ethan to Gabriel to Rayna, seeking an explanation. “What the hell happened?”

  It was some time before Gabriel looked up to answer her. “We’re, uh, we’re making progress.”

  “Like hell we are.” Ethan moved to stand up. “We’re finished here.”

  Rayna put a hand on his shoulder. “Ethan, honey, you have to let him work.”

  “I’m sorry, Ethan.” Gabriel held his gaze. “We can’t censor what you show me. I’m either in your head or I’m not. If we want to find out what happened at the river, I’ll have to be with you.”

  The doctor made a visible effort to control his anger, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. But Gabriel could see the lingering sense of violation sparking in the man’s eyes. He would never forgive Gabriel for it, no matter what the outcome of this session.

  Gabriel held out his hand. He saw Ethan take a breath, then take the hand. The connection was immediate, and Gabriel felt Ethan’s resentment—and his determination—burning through.

  “Let’s try to go directly to the river, Ethan. Where did you go? Show me.”

  Again, there was a jumble of images, then the slow resolve to a single impression: a grove of smooth-barked trees beside a broad, shallow river, sandy soil leading down to a pebbly shoal under a bridge on the left hand, bushy undergrowth and a muddy approach on the right. A picnic table with food laid out. A blanket spread out under a big oak set back from the river. Asia laughing and splashing with Jack in the water.

  Gabriel’s heart twisted in his chest as he felt with Ethan what he’d lost that day—the joy, the love, the simple closeness. The longing he felt for it now was like a black void in his soul, a hole that devoured all light, worse than any Gabriel had seen in space. It was one thing to be lonely when you had nothing and no one. It was an entirely different thing to have everything and lose it in one moment of horror.

  Gabriel swallowed his own fear and pulled Ethan back on track. “What happened next?”

  This time as he entered Ethan’s mind he sensed a new level of intimacy, of trust. The man had decided to let him in, no matter what.

  “Mom, can I go back in the water?”

  His son’s hopeful face hung over them, blocking out the sun winking at them through the trees. His wife looked up at the boy with a drowsy smile.

  “We just ate, Jack. Give your food some time to digest. Come back in fifteen minutes.”

  “How long is that?”

  With an effort he moved to help. “Here, son. Take my watch. Be careful with it. Right now it’s exactly one o’clock—see? So when this big hand is on the three, come back and ask again.”

  “Okay!” He could hear the excitement in Jack’s voice.

  “Jack! Don’t go too far.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Ten to one the watch lands in the drink.” Asia’s murmur was sleepy and sweet.

  Ethan shifted so his body lay touching hers along one side, his arm curled across her ribs. “It’s waterproof. And shockproof. And, uh, mudproof.”

  She turned her head to smile at him. “Then you’re a genius.”

  “Finally, the recognition I deserve.” He bent his head to brush his lips across hers.

  “Just wait ’til I get you home.” She wove her fingers through his hair to pull him closer. “I’ll show you what you deserve.”

  She offered her mouth for another kiss, and he took it, deeper this time, his tongue stroking hers with velvet heat. He settled his weight over her, pressing the hot ri
dge of his erection against her thigh. She arched under him, encouraging him with a sigh.

  Eventually Jack appeared over him with an expression of glee. “The big hand is on the three!”

  Ethan groaned and sat up, reluctantly releasing his hold on Asia.

  “So it is,” Asia confirmed. They stood up, just as a white van turned from the main road onto the river access, tires squealing. Gabriel felt Ethan’s apprehension; he knew what was coming. Something was wrong about the van from the beginning. Gabriel watched the van as it came into the clearing, hoping for an identification plate, but the kidnappers had been careful. There were no plates, front or back.

  The van slid to a stop in front of their car and three men in ski masks jumped out. He grabbed the closest thing he could find—a branch he knew would do little good—and pushed Asia and Jack behind him. They backed up to the big oak and made a stand.

  Gabriel took a minute to note the three attackers’ height and approximate weight, the way they moved, their skin color where it showed between mask and shirt. He could see they’d had combat training and had worked as a team before. Professionals.

  The closest man pulled a gun from his waistband. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Roberts. The woman comes with us. You and the boy take a nap. Nice and easy.”

  Gabriel looked closely at the weapon, made certain of its shape and size and caliber so he could have Lana run it through ballistics later. Then he felt hesitation and doubt as a shadow of disbelief flitted through Ethan’s mind. He pressed on, hoping for clarity, praying for rescue.

  “He pointed the gun at you. What happened then, Ethan?”

  The gun that had been pointed in their direction twisted out of the attacker’s hand and flew into the thin stand of trees near the river. The two men, connected in mind and spirit, gasped in surprise almost as one. Gabriel imposed his will on the scene in Ethan’s mind once more, slowing the action, and replayed it, watching again as the gun was wrenched by an invisible force from the man’s hand and landed somewhere in the undergrowth near the water’s edge. He could see nothing that could have caused what Ethan remembered, but there it was. He shook his head and moved on.

  Their attackers closed in as one and made a rush for them. He swung the branch hard and took out the closest one at the knees. A second man hit him before he had a chance to pull back for another swing, slamming him so hard in the gut he thought the fist might punch through to his spine. He doubled over, losing his grip on his only weapon.

  Asia screamed his name, frightened for him, though she was the one in danger. He struggled to keep his feet, blocking the worst of his attacker’s blows, and ran in her direction. She had Jack in her arms—the little boy refused to let her go—and was running for the car. Dragging one man with him, he tackled the man pursuing her and went down with both of them in a tangle of elbows and knees. Then he became Ground Zero of a shitstorm of pain, attacks coming at him from every angle, until the back of his head exploded in agony and everything went black.

  Gabriel let go of Ethan’s hand and sat back, breathing hard. Ethan slumped against the pillows of the couch, his eyes closed, his face haggard with loss and re-emergent pain.

  “Okay, that’s it.” Rayna took immediate charge of the situation. “You’re going upstairs to bed—now!” As she slung Ethan’s arm over her shoulder and urged him to his feet, she cast a glance at Alana. “Can you handle Gabriel?”

  Lana’s brows were drawn together in confusion, but she nodded. “No problem. What about Ethan?”

  “I’ll get some of those pain pills into him and make sure he sleeps most of the day.” Rayna steered Ethan toward the stairs. “He should be a little better by this evening.”

  Gabriel let the conversation drift by him for a while, closing his eyes as the room emptied. He didn’t know how Ethan was still standing. He had taken a brutal beating, but that was the least of it. What his body was suffering was nothing to what his heart was enduring. If it was the last thing he did, Gabriel would find this man’s wife and child. He would never be able to live with himself if he failed Ethan in this and left the man alone with his guilt.

  “Hey.” He opened his eyes to see Lana’s face above his, her honey-colored hair backlit by the morning sun coming in the windows. “I brought you some coffee.”

  He sat up to take the mug from her hands.

  “Okay, that didn’t look like a whole lot of fun.” Her tone was light, but concern put two lines between her brows. “Not that I could tell what was going on. What were you doing exactly?”

  There was no use trying to gloss over what he was. He came out with it.

  “I’m a touch telepath. If I’m in physical contact with someone I can sense what’s in his mind. In cases like Ethan’s where memories might be lost, I can provide a little push to help them remember. I can read details others might miss.”

  Lana regarded him, disbelief lifting one corner of her mouth. “A telepath. Really. So you weren’t kidding when you said you had to be in his head?”

  “No. I wasn’t kidding.”

  “I take it he didn’t like it much, especially at first.”

  He gave her a tight smile. “You might say that.”

  “What was it that pissed him off?” It was obvious she didn’t believe what he’d told her; she was testing him.

  The image came to his mind again of Asia, caught in the power of that moment with Ethan—the passion, the hunger, the depth of love in her eyes for him. Gabriel suddenly wanted to see that look on Lana’s face—for him. His body flushed with heat and a desire so intense he could barely speak.

  “That’s between him and me.”

  Her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, so things can get personal, I guess.” She made a little speculative hum deep in her throat. “All right. Let’s say I believe this is something you can do. What can you tell me about the kidnapping?”

  “Let me tell you something else first.” Gabriel took a big gulp of his coffee and met her eyes. “If you have any thought that this guy is involved in his wife’s disappearance, forget it. He loves her and his son. He would do anything to get them back—including something stupid. If we have anything to watch out for with him, that would be it.”

  “If you say so.” She searched his face, her expression giving away nothing. “What else?”

  “We’re looking for a late model white van, the kind used by businesses, no windows in the back. No markings on the side. It didn’t have any plates. A . . . Ford Econo . . . something.”

  “Econoline.”

  “That’s it.”

  “You could see that?”

  He shrugged. “People retain every detail of what they see. They just can’t recall everything. When I go in, I can take my time, slow things down and look.”

  “Wow. Now that’s a talent we could really use in the Bureau.” She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “Assuming you’re not completely full of shit.”

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to believe you just pulled this out of a man’s brain like . . . like Spock on some dumb Star Trek episode?”

  “Huh?”

  “Forget it. The point is I can’t put out an APB based on your reaching inside Ethan’s head and pulling out a plum.”

  Dios, the woman made him want to laugh, though the look on her face told him that just might get him killed. “So I guess you wouldn’t be interested in a description of the kidnappers, then, either.”

  “You saw the kidnappers?” Skepticism overrode any hope in her tone.

  He shook his head. “They were wearing ski masks.” The term rolled off his tongue like he knew what it meant, but the knowledge had been freshly plucked from Ethan’s mind along with the image. “There were three of them, two white males and one black male, all six-foot or better. The black guy had to be”—he hesitated, making a quick conversion to local equivalents—“over 240 pounds, the others were medium build.”
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  Lana gaped at him, then reached in her pocket for a notebook and a pen. She wrote it all down.

  “I swear, Cruz, if you’re blowing this out your ass, I’ll have you in lockup so fast it’ll make your pretty head swim.”

  Gabriel couldn’t hold back his grin. “I’m not sure I know how to respond to that comment, Agent Matheson.”

  “Just tell me how I’m supposed to explain where I got this information.”

  “Tell the truth. Your victim remembered. He’s much clearer today than he was yesterday And it’s not just because of the knock on the back of his head. He really was drugged. You’ll get confirmation of that when the drug tests come back.

  She searched his face, her pen poised over the page in her book. “You could see that, too?”

  “No. But I could feel it in him.” He paused, wondering how much to tell her about the gun. “Can you take me to the crime scene?”

  She shut down at once, her face shuttered with suspicion. “I can’t do that, Gabriel. We’re still combing the area for evidence.”

  “Evidence is what we’re after, Lana.” He sat forward and would have reached for her until he caught himself and pulled back. “I saw something I think is important.”

  “Tell me and I’ll have the evidence team look for it.”

  “No,” he insisted. “It’ll be faster for me to look myself. I’ll recognize the location when I see it, but I won’t be able to describe it.”

  “You better damn well describe it or you’ll be withholding it.” Her green eyes flashed fire. “I can’t let you on the scene, so do you know something useful or don’t you?”

  Goddamn, pig-headed, narrow-minded, dirt-sucking locals! This was why he hated working with them. “I can’t be certain of what I saw, Agent Matheson.” He deliberately kept his voice low and even to try and balance the impatience that drove him. “Telling you would make no sense.”

  The agent got up and headed toward the door. “Well, you got that right, Mr. Cruz. None of this makes any sense. I’m heading out to the crime scene now. If I see anything unusual—white rabbits or anything—I’ll let you know. Maybe it’ll match whatever it is you caught a glimpse of while you were having your magic vision.”