Athena's Secrets

by Donna Del Oro

  But they really considered her a freak, once they realized she knew things about them no one else did. Their innermost secret thoughts and desires were accessible to her. And they shocked her. When she naively let it slip that she knew their secrets, they recoiled. What did she expect? They’d be impressed by her gift, her powers? They were shocked down to their teenaged sneakers she knew things somehow. She had invaded their minds. The word had spread like a virus! Athena Butler was a freak! No one ever asked her out.

  She’d had no date for the junior prom or senior ball. No dates at all, her last two years of high school. A social pariah.

  What a fool she’d been. Now, at least, she could control her invasions into other people’s minds. It was difficult, but she knew the price she’d have to pay if she didn’t.

  Athena swallowed back a swelling of pain and downed the rest of her sparkling wine in one long swallow. If she didn’t control this…this curse of hers, she’d end up a dried-up old maid, an old lady spinster. She just knew it!

  “Father, I think I’ve finally got it under control. My clairvoyance, I mean.”

  “Good to hear, my darling girl. Men don’t like to share their private thoughts. Not even your dear old dad.” He took another sip, leaned his head back. “Let me know when dinner’s ready. I fancy a cat nap.”

  She stood and placed her wine glass on the credenza’s marble top. “Okay. I’ll see if Mum and Tilly need help.”

  On impulse, she leaned over him, stroked his lanky forelock—how gray it was getting—and planted a light kiss on his forehead. Again, images and thoughts flooded her mind. Too bad, Father. I want to know why you’re so tired all the time.

  What she saw gave her a jolt.

  Chapter Five

  In the kitchen, Tilly, a stocky, middle-aged black woman, was blending together the ingredients for a fruit torte while her mother tossed a green salad. The look on Athena’s face must’ve raised an alarm, for her mother’s hands stopped in mid-air.

  “Dio mio, ’Thena, what happened?”

  “Father,” she murmured miserably, “he’s getting death threats? The ambassador, too, and the PM.”

  Her mother shot her a quelling look but continued tossing the leaves after sprinkling some dressing into the wooden bowl.

  “You shouldn’t have looked, ’Thena. You know how your father feels about that.” Tilly was the only one besides Detective Palomino and his team who knew about their clairvoyance and she, too, was sworn to secrecy. In return, her mother gave the woman readings, so it wasn’t surprising when her mother spoke so offhandedly about their abilities in front of the woman.

  Athena stared at her mother, scowling, until Anna put down the salad utensils and threw up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “This is part of the work. British diplomats, and I daresay diplomats all over the world, receive letters, phone calls and emails all the time from angry subjects. Or others. People who have been denied travel or work visas, people who face deportations, people who oppose the political party in power, Islamic terrorists, too. You’ve seen the Embassy on Embassy Row, ’Thena. It’s like a fortress and it’s well guarded. You’ve been there.”

  Indeed, Athena had visited the Embassy several times. Located at the northern end of Embassy Row, the British Embassy looked like a country estate surrounded by acreage, but with a tall iron fence, security patrols, surveillance cameras, and watchdogs. The airspace was monitored by the American military. The car her father traveled in to and from the Embassy was bulletproof, and his driver was former British Special Forces. Security details were assigned to all of the diplomats.

  “I know all this, Mum. This time it’s different. It has to do with the Prime Minister’s visit here in January, doesn’t it?”

  Her mother glanced over at Tilly. “Add some mandarins and water chestnuts to this salad, Tilly. I must speak with my daughter in private.”

  At her mother’s gesture, Athena followed her into her father’s downstairs study after her mom passed the entrance to the living room and looked in on her napping husband. Anna closed the door behind her daughter and took a seat on one of the club chairs. Alerted by her mother’s need for a confidential talk, Athena did the same, her eyes never leaving her mother’s face.

  “You’re scaring me, Mum.”

  “Don’t be silly, ’Thena. I just don’t want Tilly to hear this. She doesn’t need the worry. Yes, this is different from the death threats your father and the others at the Embassy usually receive. MI-6 has picked up some chatter that concerns them. Some kind of plot by an Islamic group associated with the Chechen rebels in Dagestan. The warnings have come from, of all places, Russian intelligence agents who have informants within that group. Interpol agents have also confirmed this threat. Something about East European mercenaries working for this Islamist group and possibly carrying out the deed. You know that when we were stationed in Lyon, France, your father developed relationships with agents at Interpol Headquarters there. One of his assignments is to liaise with Interpol wherever we are stationed. He has absolute confidence in these people, and they have confirmed a plot to disrupt the PM’s visit is definitely in the making. They’ve followed a money trail and now they believe these mercenaries have accepted a contract to carry out something horrible. The Embassy doesn’t know exactly what or when or where. Everyone is on alert.”

  “But the PM’s visit isn’t until January. What can they do before then?”

  “Carry out their preparations. Gather intelligence on all Embassy personnel and their families. Thus, we must all be vigilant. This is one reason why your father is relieved that we’ll be in California while he’s away in London. Interpol suspects this team of mercenaries is already in the U.S. and making preparations. Even here in D.C.”

  Athena felt her insides grow cold with dread. “Already in the U.S.? How can the State Department allow these people in?”

  Her mother gave her an exaggerated Italian shrug. “Who knows why? The Americans let anybody in, it seems. They give out visas like balloons at a carnival. Besides, we don’t know exactly who these people are. They’re traveling under aliases. False identities. False passports. Interpol suspects that these mercenaries were denied British visas, so they are coming here to target the PM. So, whomever the prime minister sees when he comes here, is also at risk. That includes your father and the rest of the Embassy staff.”

  Realization hit, making Athena’s mouth gape open. “The diplomats and their families? And the American president?”

  “I’m afraid so. There are no details as yet, so we can only be extra cautious. Tell us, for example, if you sense someone means you harm. Use your clairvoyance if you sense something’s not quite right with somebody. Be careful when you take the subway. Let your father know if you think anything is amiss. In fact, when we return from California, your father wants me to drive you to work in the morning and pick you up after your classes. Chris’ boarding school is fenced, and there will be security details assigned to us and to the other families of Embassy diplomats. We won’t know who they are, however, or what they look like. They’ll look like everybody else and they will blend into the background. For this weekend, while you’re alone, I would like you to stay home. Don’t go out by yourself. Just stay in, ’Thena.”

  Athena groaned. “Mum, I have a date tomorrow night. I won’t break it. You know I rarely have dates—”

  Anna patted her daughter’s knee, her dark brown eyebrows furrowed in thought.

  “No, of course, we can’t stop living, can we? I’ll have your father assign you a security detail, just until you and Chris get on that plane for California Monday morning. By the way, the plane tickets are on your dresser. It’s a seven a.m. flight, so it’s up to you to get Chris there on time. One of the Skoroses will meet you both at the airport. Maybe I’ll be there, too. It’ll be an adventure.”

  Athena wasn’t listening. Her thoughts swirled around the change in plans for her weekend of pleasure. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so lust-driven.
The least she could do was have the foursome come back to the condo after dinner and clubbing. Maybe have a late-night snack and let Mikayla and her boyfriend slip out at some point. Tony had made it clear that he wanted to spend the night with her. She was determined to make it happen, especially since she might not get another chance for months.

  Was it so awful to want to be like other young women and have a sex life?

  Her mother looked down at her hands and nervously twisted her wedding ring around. Oh God, there’s more?

  “’Thena, there’s something else. I’m expecting a call from Detective Palomino.”

  Oh crap, Mum’s at it again. Getting obsessed with some creepy criminal.

  “He’s been following up on some leads I gave him this afternoon. I saw one of the signs on the black van, some kind of plumbing service, which he claims does not exist. I couldn’t see the van’s license number, more’s the pity.” Anna’s hands fisted in her lap as she shook her head with exasperation. “I wish I could have seen more, because I’m so afraid that man will strike again. Anyway, if the detective calls, tell him I’ll be back on November twenty-ninth. Perhaps by then, he’ll have caught the bastardo.” Her mother’s eyes widened, and she made a hurried sign-of-the-cross.

  Her mother was so old-fashioned in some ways—she still felt guilty swearing in front of her children.

  Athena smiled wryly as she shook her head. “S’okay, Mum. I swear all the time. So you see, that’s one sterling example of yours that I can’t possibly follow. I guess I’m bound for Hell—” She broke off when her mother scowled. Athena sobered and dropped her smile. “Okay, I’ll tell Detective Palomino if he calls. Do you think he’s getting closer to finding that sick asshole?”

  Her mother rolled her eyes, then nodded. “Yes, he’s getting closer, but the sooner, the better. The killer’s evil, he has a choice, but he has no conscience, no empathy for those poor little girls. He must be caught and put away for good.” Her voice catching, Anna put a hand to her flushed face, as if to remind herself that a semblance of their normal life beckoned her. “Now, let’s put dinner on the table. Your father and I have an early night tonight. Our flight’s at eight, tomorrow morning. Thank God it’s a private charter, otherwise we’d have to be in the security line at six. Horrors!”

  They stood up together and as they did, her mother touched her arm. “Whatever you have planned, cancel it. You must stay in this weekend. Alone.”

  Athena pulled her arm away and changed the subject. “You’re taking the painting I did of Lorena’s son? That Kas chap?”

  Her mother brightened. “Oh yes, she’s going to love it! You will love them, ’Thena. The Skoros family is, well, unique. Smart, successful people with a strong love of family. You will like Kyriakos and his three brothers. They’re all tall, dark and handsome.”

  Dutifully, Athena nodded and moved to set the table.

  Don’t push it, Mum.

  Bet he’s not as tall, dark and handsome as Tony.

  Chapter Six

  No sooner had Athena begun her morning shift than her cell phone vibrated. She noted the caller and when she got her break, went into the back room and returned the call. Detective Palomino answered on the first ring and Athena identified herself.

  “My mother wanted you to know that she’ll be out of town until November twenty-ninth,” she dutifully explained. “She left this morning and won’t be able to help you out for the next week or so.”

  There was a pause before he spoke. “That’s unfortunate. I’ve set up a lineup of possible persons of interest in this case. A result of your mother’s excellent leads. I was hoping she’d come down and maybe give us a hint or some direction. We have so little physical evidence to go on.”

  “A lineup? You mean, where suspects line up against the wall and a witness identifies the criminal through a one-way window?”

  “Yeah, something like that, Miss Butler. We have a neighbor of the latest murdered child, who recalls seeing the driver of the black van.”

  “Then why do you need my mother’s help, if you have an eyewitness?”

  She heard the detective clear his throat and lower his voice. “Our witness is not the most reliable. He’s the drug addict neighbor who was supposed to be watching the child after school while the mother was at work.”

  That gave her pause. “I’m sorry. My mother told me the little girl was taken from a poor black neighborhood.”

  “Yes, that’s right. Your mother told you about this case?”

  Athena’s first reaction was to blurt out the truth, but she demurred. Would her mother get in trouble if she said yes? Still, what was the harm? Compared to a child being abducted and murdered simply because she had the bad luck to be raised by a poor woman who couldn’t afford proper child care? What unspeakable suffering had that child endured—and all the others the sick bastard had tortured and killed?

  “Yes, she did. Everything, in fact. Uh, Detective Palomino, my mother told you about me, didn’t she? That I’m clairvoyant, too?”

  “Yes, she did.” There seemed to be tense silence on his end.

  An idea struck Athena. Once, during a workshop at the Claremont Institute of Psychic Research in nearby MacLean, she, her mother and other clairvoyants participated in an experiment. The results had amazed even her as she and the others handled objects each one had brought in.

  Well, why not?

  “Detective, do you know what psychometry is?” When the man replied with a hesitant no, she went on, “It’s when a clairvoyant can touch or handle an object that belongs to someone and receive information about that person. Y’know, insights, facts, images. What I’m thinking is that I can maybe help you today, if you allow me to touch something that belongs to the men in the lineup. Do you think it’s worth a try?”

  “Hmm.”

  Athena wondered if the man thought she was a veritable fruit loop. When Fergy entered the room to rummage through a box of frozen breakfast wraps, she stood, ready to return to the brew bar. Tony was fielding the orders at the espresso machine while she was on break.

  Finally, Palomino came back on the line. “Sure, let’s give it a try. The lineup’s set for noon. I’ll have one of my detectives pick you up at eleven-thirty. Where are you right now?”

  She gave him the store’s address and hung up while flagging down Fergy on his way back to the front of the store.

  “I’m so sorry, Fergy, but I’ve got to leave today at eleven-thirty.”

  “What? And miss the lunchtime crowd?” Fergy looked fit to be tied.

  “I know.” She started practically wringing her hands. “But it’s police business. I have to go.”

  “What’ve you done now, Athena? Parked in a handicapped zone?” He disappeared around the corner, obviously not wanting to deal with her request at the moment. His avoidance of “No” was, she knew, his tacit approval despite his annoyance. Poor Fergy. He was too kind and understanding, but she knew also that there was a list of on-call part-timers who could come in at a moment’s notice.

  As she walked back to her post behind the left-hand espresso machine, Tony threw her a quizzical look.

  “What’s this? You’re leaving early? Fergy wants me to call a replacement.”

  Instantly, she made the decision to, well, not exactly lie but embroider the truth a bit. Tony didn’t need to know, not yet anyway, about her clairvoyance.

  “It’s a police matter involving my brother, Chris. I’ve got to go.”

  “We’re still on for tonight?” Tony darted her an anxious look as he steamed a pot of milk.

  Her thoughts lingered on the phone call and what she was hoping to accomplish, but she managed a halfheartedly enthusiastic, “Oh yes!”

  For the next hour or so, she wondered uneasily why she had volunteered to help Palomino and his team of homicide detectives. Getting involved in this case was possibly not one of her better ideas.

  Well, stupid, let’s hope you don’t live to regret it.

  ***
*

  Detective Juan-Pablo Ochoa turned out to be much younger than she expected. She’d thought he would be a middle-aged cop but after meeting him, guessed he was in his late twenties. However, when they shook hands, after he showed her his badge and ID, she realized he was older, maybe in his late thirties.

  “You have a young face for someone with three children,” she said as they walked to his unmarked Crown Victoria that was parked at the curb.

  He flashed her a smile before he stowed her art supplies in his backseat. Settled in the driver’s seat, Ochoa looked over at her buckling up in the passenger seat. Dressed in a turtleneck, slacks and sports jacket, he was good-looking with dark, wavy hair and a deep olive complexion.

  “Your mother told you?”

  Surprised that he would doubt her, since her mother had been working with Palomino’s team for over a year, Athena gently placed her hand on his forearm. He stared down at her hand, then raised his dark eyes to look her in the face.

  Athena smiled. “No, and she didn’t tell me that your eldest daughter plays piano very well. Or that your middle child, a boy, has a complete set of Star Wars figures on his shelf. Your youngest son is hyperactive but then,”—she shrugged—“he’s only two. He loves those Ninja turtles.”

  He shot her a grudging nod of respect and pulled out into traffic. “Y’know, I told Palomino this was going to be an exercise in futility, but maybe I was wrong.”

  Athena darted a look at him. “Your very religious mother named you after Pope John-Paul, didn’t she?”

  “You picked that up, too?” He took a right turn toward the freeway ramp.

  “No, I guessed. Hispanic, Juan-Pablo.” When he barked a short laugh, she began to relax a little.

  “You speak Spanish?”

  “A little. We lived in Madrid for two years, after France. My father’s been posted all over.”

  “Sounds like a great job. Your mother says you and your brother are worldly for your ages.” He laughed. “I should consider diplomatic work. My wife would never go for it, though. She likes the good ol’ USA. Her family left Cuba years ago, and here is where she wants to stay.”