His mouth twitched. “I can’t do that. This is a private message.” He stepped closer to me, forcing me further into the room.
I calculated the number of steps to the door, then studied his face again. He was definitely familiar. Then I remembered. The dinner. After Dad’s speech. Outside, as I had waited for the car. He’d bumped into me. Coincidence? “I saw you at the dinner.”
He cocked his head again. “Your father and I go way back.”
Gram was asleep in her bed. The hallway buzzed with activity. What could he possibly do to me here in this nursing home? There were probably five nurses at the station around the corner. “I could scream.”
“You could. But there’s no need. I mean you no harm.”
Tell that to the organ about to leap from my chest.
He took another step and reached for the door behind him.
No, don’t close it. My heart sprinted. I held a hand out in front of me. “Just stop right there. Don’t come closer or I will yell my freaking head off.” I glanced around the room for a weapon. “How do you know my father?” I asked, present tense, as if he wasn’t blown to bits earlier today.
“Your father knew my sister.” He inched closer. “I’m sorry about his death.”
“His death? You mean his murder?”
“Yes. It’s all over the news.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m just someone who wants the truth exposed.”
“The truth? And what truth would that be?”
“The truth of who… what you are.”
I heard Jack’s voice in the hallway, apparently speaking to one of the nurses.
“Jack,” I yelled, but more softly than I intended. I darted forward, knocking into the wall of a man blocking the doorway.
He grabbed me and turned me around. My back pushed up against his chest. He held me there. “Listen to me, little girl,” he whispered. “I am not going to hurt you. But you have no idea what or who you’re dealing with. I didn’t kill your father. I’m sorry he’s dead, actually. But I will make your life a living hell if you don’t find his journals.”
“I don’t have the journals.”
“You’ll find them. And they’ll answer all of your wildest questions.” He squeezed me tighter. “Oh, and one more thing,” he whispered. “Be careful who you trust. Jack DeWeese isn’t being… What’s the word? Forthcoming. If he found you, who’s to say someone else won’t?”
I clawed and pushed at his arm. Finally, he shoved me forward. By the time I regained my footing, he was gone.
Chapter Ten
Shit!
I slid my satchel over my shoulder and ran from the room. There was no sign of Wolfman in the hallway. Only Jack, waiting by the exit.
I massaged my chest over my wildly-thumping heart. Who was that? It didn’t take a nuclear engineer to know that Jack wasn’t telling me everything. That wasn’t news.
I sauntered toward him. Giving me a smile of pity, he lifted my bag off my shoulder. He pushed the door open and led me to his car—not the motorcycle, thankfully—waiting out front.
He glanced toward my profile as he drove in silence. I assumed we were headed in the direction of school until I was sure we weren’t.
Wolfman’s words scrolled through my head. I wanted to tell Jack about the man at the nursing home, but something stopped me.
I probably should have been nervous to be alone with Jack, but what did I care? I had no one. No one who cared about me. No one to answer to. As far as one of life’s low-points, this was it.
He and his father had been notified of my father’s death before I was. I was definitely curious about that.
“Thanks for the flowers,” I said, breaking the thirty-minute silence. “That meant a lot. My Gram loves lilies and roses.”
Jack pulled the car up to a large iron gate. Where was he taking me? He reached up and pushed a button on his visor. The gate opened. We wove along a tree-lined drive. A horse farm, by the looks of it. I barely made out a couple of horses in the dark behind a black plank fence.
We pulled up in front of a large brick house. No, not large. Enormous. Path lights glowed along a walkway leading to the front door and another leading around to the side of the house. Though summer was practically over, flowers still decorated window boxes and flanked either side of the grand, wooden doorway under a small covered entrance.
“Where are we?”
“Home.”
“Your house?”
He nodded.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“You need some sleep. We thought you would rest better away from school.” There was that authoritative tone again.
“We?”
“Mom, Dad and me.”
“I’m guessing someone from school must be looking for me.” At least part of me hoped so.
“They know you’re here.”
I met his gaze. “I don’t understand.”
The whites of his eyes glowed in the dark. He reached a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. “You’re safe here. Father says that the police and FBI are working on who wanted your father dead.”
Jack helped me out of the car and led the way to the front door.
Once inside, he lit a gas fireplace. “How about some hot tea?”
“Okay.” I watched him leave the room. He seemed nervous. Quiet. Distant.
Lately, every time someone claimed they meant me no harm, or that I was safe, my bubble of security seemed to deflate slightly.
I ran my hand along the straight line of the white sofa. Glanced at pictures as I circled the room until I landed on one picture in particular.
“Father told me that was taken a year before I was born.”
I traced the outline of my dad’s shape. He stood next to Dr. DeWeese, who had a full head of wheat-colored hair at the time. “You look so much like him in this picture,” I observed.
Jack took the picture from my hand and replaced it with a cup of hot tea.
I took a sip. Soothing chamomile. The hot flavor of honey slid down my throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anita helped me with it.” He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “She also prepared a room for you.”
“Anita?”
“Housekeeper. And my nanny of sorts.” Something akin to sadness flashed in his eyes.
“Ahhh.” I swallowed another sip, pondering the questions ping-ponging through my head.
A door closing echoed in the foyer just beyond the living room. We both turned toward the sound. Dr. DeWeese and a woman entered the room.
“Oh, you poor dear. John and I have been so worried about you.” The woman glided toward us. She was dressed in an expensive-looking suit of reds and oranges. Bleached-blond hair rested perfectly on her shoulders. Chunky gold jewelry decorated her neck and ears. She stuck her lip out in a strange pout before her arms stretched wide and pulled me into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry. Peter was a brilliant man. We loved him dearly.” She pushed me back, holding me at arms’ length. “How are you holding up?”
The way-too-long hug and hairspray that would kill fleas suffocated me. Without answering, I backed away.
“Mom,” Jack said, moving closer and shaking his head. “Lexi, this is Cathy DeWeese. My mother.” Jack rolled his eyes and shrugged at the same time, making me feel less guilty about the first-impression I was forming of the woman who gave him life.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” My voice was suddenly shy.
“None of this ‘ma’am’ stuff. We are going to be great friends. Call me Cathy.”
“How are you, Lexi?” Dr. DeWeese asked. A look of pity dragged his lips downward.
“Confused. Sad. Pissed off.” Yeah, that about summed it up.
“We are too,” he said. “You can stay here as long as you need. And come back as often as you like.”
I furrowed my brow and looked from Dr. DeWeese to Jack. “I really appreciate that, Dr. DeWeese, but…”
Mrs.
DeWeese eyed her husband. “Ahh, honey, she doesn’t know—”
“Mom.” Jack shook his head, stopping whatever she was about to say.
“I don’t know what?” I asked.
Silence. The three of them traded glances with enough pity to swallow me whole.
It was Dr. DeWeese who stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on my elbow. “Let’s sit, Lexi.”
I obeyed, although I was pretty sure I would erupt in a childish fit any second if these people didn’t stop tip-toeing around my feelings.
“Your father visited me a week ago.”
“Yes.” I already knew that.
“He was afraid something might happen to him. He left instructions in case anything did.”
“What do you mean by instructions?” Had he thought someone would try to kill him?
“Where you are concerned. He wanted to make sure someone looked after your interests.”
My interests? John, Jack and Cathy all stared at me. I stretched and recurled my fingers into fists, rubbing them back and forth along my thighs.
“Your father didn’t want to leave you abandoned,” Dr. DeWeese continued.
Yeah, well, that’s how it goes sometimes. The threat of tears stung. “I’m not abandoned. I have my grandmother. And I’m practically eighteen.”
Dr. DeWeese cleared his throat. “He left clear written documentation of what to do with you if he were to…”
“Die,” I finished for him. “What to do with me, you say. You mean where to stick me? Where to tuck away the orphan child?”
“Oh, dear, what he’s trying to say is…” Cathy took a step closer.
I leapt to my feet and backed away from all three of them.
“Just spit it out, will you? Who’s in charge of me now?”
Dr. DeWeese stood. Looked me straight in the eye. “I am. It’s only to help you finish your last year of school, get into The Program, and then college. I only want to help you, Lexi, to reach your dreams the way your father would want.”
I nodded, pursing my lips. School. The Program. College. With Dad gone, who now decided what I would study?
“You’ll be a part of our family,” Cathy said as if I’d just won the lottery.
I angled my head toward her. Then to Jack, who stood motionless and silent. His eyes locked with mine.
“I’d like to go to bed now,” I whispered. It was all I could manage at this point.
~~~~
I woke in a dark room. My body was tangled in a sheet and drenched in sweat. I pulled free from the covers, sat straight up in bed, and clutched my chest.
An image from my dream of Jack and me running down a long, white hallway, holding hands, was vivid. I could still feel the tightness of his fingers around my right hand and the fear of whatever it was we ran from. The glimmer in his eye when he looked at me in the dream tugged on my heart, leaving me short of breath.
“What the hell was that?” I whispered in the still of night. And where am I?
After inspecting the entire room with my eyes, I remembered I was in one of the DeWeese’s guest rooms. Then the full weight of reality sliced through my chest.
Dad was dead.
Dr. DeWeese was my new legal guardian.
Jack was in the next room over.
I buried my head in my hands. I had so many questions, and no one to trust with them.
What did it all mean? I massaged my forehead with the heel of my palm, trying to wipe away the images of Jack from my dreams.
Deciding I was wide-awake and starving, I pulled my sweatpants on to accompany the cami I had been sleeping in—the same clothes I had arrived in, minus the sweatshirt—and went in search of a kitchen. That couldn’t be too hard to find, could it?
I padded lightly down the stairs. My hand grazed the banister as I stepped.
Moonlight shone through large windows along the backside of the house. The DeWeeses lived on a horse farm, from what I could tell when I arrived, and behind the house was nothing but darkness this time of night.
I skirted around some chairs in what appeared to be a sitting area of some sort. The house was eerily quiet. When I arrived at another open doorway, I had found the kitchen, lit only by a small dome light over the stove.
As I entered, the kitchen tile felt cold on my feet. The large windows continued in the kitchen. Next to them, a door. To the back patio, maybe? Craving fresh air, I walked to it.
My fingers wrapped around the doorknob.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I whipped around. My hand flew to my chest. “Shit, Jack. You scared me,” I spit through clenched teeth. How did I not see him when I entered the kitchen? Why does he always seem to be sneaking up on me?
“I wasn’t the one sneaking around in the middle of the night.” He sat on top of the kitchen island on the other side of the room. His legs dangled off the edge. A smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You making a break for it? You might want to rethink leaving through that door.” He sounded like he was kidding, but it had to look like I was sneaking out, for sure.
I stood there a few seconds analyzing him and his words. I’d had enough of others deciding what was best for me. I turned, grabbed hold of the doorknob, and yanked.
Suddenly, a deafening whirring noise sounded. I pressed my hands to both ears. Crap. Of course the DeWeeses had an alarm.
Jack pushed off the counter and jogged to the panel beside the door so he could shut off the stupid alarm. He then stepped past me, raising a single finger to his lips, and backed out of the room.
He crossed the sitting area in record speed. Quick footsteps thumped overhead.
When he got to the stairwell, he said, “Dad?”
“What set off the alarm?” Dr. DeWeese asked from upstairs.
“It was just me. Sorry. I was trying to set a spider free and forgot about the alarm.”
I heard some huffs and puffs, followed by heavy footsteps and the closing of a door.
Jack returned. “I told you not to open it.” He chastised me with humor in his eyes.
“You could have said why.” I crossed my arms, realizing only then that I was wearing a skimpy cami and sweat pants. It wasn’t like I had a chance to pack a bag for this unplanned sleepover.
Jack’s face softened. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I shook my head. Jack’s eyes shimmered in the dim light. I turned and walked toward the back windows again. “Did you shut off the alarm? Can I go outside?”
“Yeah, but it’s pretty cool out tonight. Here.”
Jack lifted his sweatshirt over his head. Thankfully, he had a t-shirt on underneath.
“Thanks.” I slipped it on. As I did, Jack’s familiar scent wrapped around me as the fabric brushed against my face.
“Do you want to be alone?” Jack asked. “I could come with you.”
Part of me wanted to run away from this house, from the DeWeeses. From Jack. But another part of me, and maybe an even bigger part, wanted to know Jack better—to let him in.
Dad had obviously shut Dr. DeWeese out of his life all those years ago for a reason. Now, I would never know his reason for getting back in touch.
Anyway, why would that preclude me from allowing Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome into my lonely life? He raised an eyebrow while I deliberated. Confusion balled up in my stomach. I barely distinguished between it and hunger.
“I appreciate that…” The sleeves of the sweatshirt fell past my hands. I looked up into Jack’s dark, serious eyes. “I think I’d like to be alone if that’s okay.”
He nodded. Some level of understanding registered on his face. “How about I find some turkey for a sandwich while you’re out?”
I nodded. He seemed to know exactly what I needed at the time I needed it. “I would really like that.”
Outside, I walked along a plank fence separating me from horse pastures. My eyes adjusted to the light of the moon, and I could see outlines and shadows of trees and the plank fence in the distance
.
The last few conversations Dad and I shared replayed over and over in my head. They were the last words he would ever say to me.
Why would someone kill him? Did it have something to do with his recent research?
A strange clicking sound disturbed my thoughts. I searched through two rows of fences where I could just make out a dark figure that appeared very much like a human form. An orange light around the figure’s head burned brighter. A cigarette.
I inched up to the fence line and tried to focus through the planks. Was this figure watching me? Or was it a stranger out for a midnight stroll, like me? Did someone live close to the DeWeeses? Or on their farm?
I stepped further along the fence line. When I looked toward the figure, he walked in the same direction as I, a field apart. I sped up.
The figure stopped. A small light of fire fell to the ground in an arch. Then he appeared to get taller as he climbed the fence and leapt to the ground on the other side and ran toward me.
I gasped and turned toward the house. I was much further away than I’d realized. I could only make out a small patio light in the distance. I glanced over my shoulder. The figure gained on me. I sped up.
When I reached the end of the fence line, I cut hard to the left toward the house and hit a wall. I looked up into Jack’s face. “Someone’s chasing me.” I spoke through heavy pants.
His head jerked up, looking in the direction I had just come from. “What? Who?” He pushed me to the side and stood in front of me.
“Do you really think I know who?” I stood behind Jack and peered over his shoulder. Nothing. “I swear he was right behind me!”
“He?”
“He. She. I don’t know. It ran like a damn gazelle.”
He grabbed both sides of my cheeks. His palms lit my face on fire. “Tell me exactly what you saw.”
“I don’t know. I was just walking along the fence, when I heard a clicking sound, a lighter, I think. Across the field, someone stood there, smoking and watching me. When I started to move away, he moved toward me. When I ran, he ran.”
Jack dropped his hands. He looked again in the direction from where I had come. I had no idea if he thought I was insane or if he thought like I did—someone was watching me.
Chapter Eleven
Dr. and Mrs. DeWeese worked the crowd. I sipped my punch while trying to be one with the floor-to-ceiling draperies at the back windows.
Mindspeak Page 9
