The man looked just the way Brian had described him: black suit, bald head, intense dark eyes, right down to the big red stone, surely a ruby, in his earlobe.
“Then there’s no problem with having Nurse Guyer accompany me?” Brian’s dark brows were drawn together, and his lips formed a tight, thin line.
“No, of course not. We have a full complement of medical personnel here to assist you, but I understand she is your…companion, as well as your nurse.”
Robin’s face warmed with a blush. How on earth did Phelps know that? Or was it just a guess? She straightened her shoulders and stared at the man. How dare he judge her? She would not let some snooty English guy make her feel bad for what she did. She and Brian had an…arrangement.
“Yes, she is,” Brian said. “So, Phelps, now that we’re here, what’s next?”
“We’ll start tomorrow morning. First, a few medical tests.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. His fingernails were polished. “Then a slight modification. A tiny transistor will be placed in your brain.”
Robin stiffened. “Is that necessary? Poking around in Br—Mr. Wakefield’s brain. Isn’t that dangerous?”
Wakefield gave a dry chuckle. “Not at all, my dear. We’ve done it many times. Everything will be explained as we go along. A bit of training, test your powers, then off you’ll go.”
“Go?” Brian asked, “Where?”
“Europe. But all will be explained later.”
“I don’t have a passport.” The words exploded out of Robin’s mouth before she had a chance to think. Heck, maybe she wasn’t even supposed to go with Brian, maybe they’d send her back to California. That thought made her sad.
“Not a problem, Ms. Guyer. I’ll take care of that in the morning.” He shot the cuff of his black sleeve and glanced at a massive watch on his wrist. “It’s seven-fifteen now. Dinner is at eight, so why don’t you let Wells show you to your rooms so you can freshen up? When you’re ready, come here and we’ll have a glass of sherry before dinner.”
“Ma’am, sir, if you’ll come with me.”
Robin almost jumped out of her skin. Wells stood at her elbow, so close she could smell the faint odor of his cologne. Had he been there all along? Creepy.
Brian nodded, so she followed Wells down the hallway then to a smaller one until he came to an open door.
“Mr. Wakefield, this is your suite. Ms. Guyer, you’re right next door.”
Robin didn’t want to be alone but figured she’d just scoot into Brian’s room at bedtime.
“I trust you can find your way back to the library?”
“Yes, we’re fine,” Brian said.
Wells gave a slight bow and silently glided away.
“Go check out your room, Robin.” He gave her a quick pat on her butt as she walked by.
The bedroom, done in shades of yellow and blue, looked like something out of a decorating magazine. All ruffles and flowery materials, it was not to her taste, but for a temporary place to sleep it was fine. She preferred more modern décor, but was delighted to find a large claw-footed tub in the attached bathroom. She would definitely have a long soak in the tube before bed.
Her suitcase had been unpacked and everything hung or put in drawers. She could get used to service like this, and the view out the picture window nearly took her breath. She stood overlooking a garden and Olympic-sized pool. Damn, she hadn’t brought a bathing suit.
“How do you like your room?”
Brian’s voice startled her. He’d entered through the door connecting their rooms.
“It’s a little chintzy for me, but clean, and I won’t be here that long.” I hope. “How are you feeling? Want a backrub before dinner?”
“I’d love one.” He tilted his head from side to side. “My neck’s stiff from the long plane ride, but we don’t have time.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Later, though, I’ll expect the full body massage.” He reached out and brushed a bit of errant hair off her forehead. “You ready to go to dinner?”
“Give me five minutes. I’ll meet you in the hallway, okay?”
“Just come into my room. I’ll wait for you here.”
When she entered his room after she’d washed her face and freshened up as best she could, she wasn’t surprised to find it much larger than her own. The furnishings were more masculine and all in shades of mauve, gold, and black. A basket of fresh fruit sat on top of the nightstand. Clearly, she was perceived as hired help.
Brian stood outside the open French doors looking out over the same view as she had from her room. The delicious scent of roses permeated the room.
“All set?” he asked, turning when he obviously sensed her presence. He started to take her arm but stopped short. She couldn’t wait until he was able to control his gift. She liked having him touch her—all over.
They found the library with no trouble. All they had to do was follow the sound of voices. Inside the room, at least twenty people stood around in groups, holding glasses of sherry, and chatting.
All conversation stopped when they entered. Robin glanced around and wanted to die. The men all wore suits, the women dresses, and here she stood in her travel-weary nurse’s uniform.
“Ah, there you are. Come in, come in and meet everyone.” Phelps walked over to Brian and steered him to the first group of people. Robin tagged along, feeling a lot like an unwanted puppy.
Names and faces went by in a blur, though she did take notice that no one tried to shake hands with Brian—they must have been warned. Wells stood in the corner by a tray filled with glasses and bottles. He poured amber liquid into two glasses, came over, and handed one to each of them. Robin grabbed hers and gulped down half the contents to calm her nerves.
Conversation swirled around them. Everyone in the room wanted to talk to Brian, and did. She stood by his shoulder, largely ignored. Relief flowed through her when Wells announced dinner. She’d managed to finish her sherry, so she set the empty glass on a table and followed Brian and the crowd toward the dining room.
A long, rosewood table with matching chairs took up most of the space in the room. The cream-colored lace cloth had been set with fine bone china and sterling silver.
She shoved her shaking hands in the pockets of her skirt, wondering how she’d figure out which fork to use, since there were more than two at each place setting. Red flocked paper covered all four walls, and the sparkling chandelier looked like something one would find in a castle. Since everyone else took their seats first, she and Brain seated themselves in the only two empty chairs. Phelps sat at the head of the table.
Servers brought out platters of food, and a woman wearing a grey dress with a white apron poured wine. What food she managed to put into her increasingly nervous stomach was delicious. After the second glass of wine, she stopped drinking because she started feeling a little woozy.
Brian conversed with a woman seated on the other side of him and a man across the table, but turned to check on her frequently. She was happy to see he only drank water. Wine on top of pain pills would not be a good combination. Before she knew it, a dish of chocolate mousse had been placed in front of her. Her stomach felt full, but she didn’t remember eating much. She dipped her spoon into the brown swirl and then…nothing.
Chapter Fourteen
Brian tried to keep his eye on Robin because she appeared ill at ease, but he found himself fascinated by Rosalie Stein, the woman seated next to him. She was at the institute studying psychometrics, while Max Fielding across the table seemed to be a world authority on poltergeist activity.
By the time desert arrived, he noticed Robin’s eyes were glazed, and she appeared ready to slide off her chair and onto the floor. He didn’t think she’d had that much to drink, but he couldn’t be sure.
When Phelps suggested coffee in the library, Brian excused the two of them with the excuse of travel fatigue.
“Of course, of course.” Phelps rose and everyone followed. “I’ll meet you here in the di
ning room at eight in the morning. Right after breakfast, we’ll go to the lab and start your tests. Sleep well.” He barely glanced at Robin.
Brian gritted his teeth and helped Robin out of her chair. He didn’t get a single flash of anything and was as surprised as he was grateful. Robin didn’t say a word on the way to her bedroom. He almost put her into his bed but thought better of it and took her to the yellow and blue room. Once in the bedroom, she flopped on the bed and closed her eyes, all without uttering a word. He took off her shoes and covered her with part of the bedspread, puzzled as to what made her so lethargic. Perhaps she was one of the people unused to alcohol who got drunk fast. Still, it bothered him a bit.
After he shut off her light and went into his room, he got ready for bed, set his alarm, and took a pain pill. A cool breeze wafted in through the open French doors and within seconds, he fell asleep.
He awoke five minutes before the alarm was set to go off, shivering in the cold morning air. He jumped out of bed and hurried over to close the doors. Before showering, he went to check on Robin. She had curled up on her side and drawn the spread around her body. He tiptoed over to wake her but decided to let her sleep. There was no sense in having her sit around and watch the doctors do tests on him. He went to the desk against one wall and found some paper and a pen to jot a quick note telling her to come find him in the lab where they’d be doing tests, or take the morning off and they’d meet up later. He anchored the paper with the soap dish on the sink in her bathroom where she’d be sure to see it.
He found Phelps seated at the end of the table in the dining room, wearing his usual dark suit/white shirt combo.
“Good morning, Brian. Ready for the big day?”
“Yes, I’ll be happy when I can touch people again without knowing their entire history.”
Phelps chuckled.
Brian went to the sideboard for coffee then decided to eat while he could and filled a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit. He sat next to Phelps and dug in.
“You mentioned last night an assignment for me in Europe,” he said between bites. “What exactly am I supposed to do?”
“It’s simple, really. There’s a man, a duke actually, who we think is trying to broker an arms deal with some very nasty people. He’s having a ball on Saturday, and I managed to get you invited.
“That doesn’t give me much time.”
“Oh, we’ll get you up to speed very quickly. You’ll see.”
He wasn’t too sure of that. “What am I to do?”
“All you have to do is meet the duke, shake his hand, and read as much of him as you can.” Phelps lips turned upward in a stiff smile. “I will give you a special cell phone. Anytime you get information you feel will be of interest, call the pre-programmed number. No one will answer, you’ll simply hear a beep, and you leave a message. Give as many details as you can. Everything will help.”
Brian got up to refill his coffee cup and give himself time to process the information. When he sat back down, he asked, “What has any of this to do with the institute?”
“We contract out with our government occasionally, with several governments actually, but none who are enemies of the United States. Those fees along with private funding keep the institute in business.” Phelps stood and buttoned his suit coat. “Ready to get started?”
He nodded, got up, and followed Phelps down the hallway to a small elevator that was barely big enough for the two of them. It creaked slowly downward then jerked to a stop.
When the doors opened, Brian found himself in a laboratory. There were separate rooms off toward the sides, and several people wearing white lab coats working in the various spaces.
“Interesting, no?” Phelps walked alongside Brian and pointed to a glass door. “Right through here.”
Brian recognized people he’d met the night before, some bent over tables, others busy working on computers. “Very interesting.”
“Someday in the future, when we have time, I’ll give you a full tour. Right now it is imperative that we get your visions under control so you can go off and do that little chore for us.”
A short man with wild, fuzzy gray hair and thick, horn-rimmed glasses scurried over. With a big smile on his weathered face, he said, “Hello, hello and welcome. You must be Mr. Wakefield. I am Dr. Gossling.” He whipped a pair of leather gloves out of his pocket, pulled them on, and held out his right hand.
When Brian hesitated, Gossling said, “Not to worry, dear boy, these are lead-lined gloves.” He peeled the edge of his left glove back but all Brian could see was some grayish material.
He was here to learn, though, so he decided to take a chance. He shook the doctor’s hand but received no messages.
“Wonderful, yes? My own invention.” Doctor Gossling’s sherry-colored eyes sparkled with good humor behind the thick glasses. “Sit, sit. Let us begin.”
Brian glanced around as he sat up on the examination table, but Phelps was nowhere to be seen.
Without another word, the doctor did the usual doctor thing; listened to his heart, took his temperature, blood pressure, and pulse.
“Fine, fine. You are in excellent condition. Well, other than that little hearing peoples thoughts thing.”
Brian couldn’t help but smile at the man’s humor.
“Now then, let me get my assistant to take a small amount of your blood, and we’ll begin to map your brain to see where all this funny business is coming from.” Gossling moved to the door and yelled at the top of his voice, “Igor! I need you!”
“You have a lab assistant name Igor?”
Gossling laughed. “No, of course not. A little joke. Where I worked before, they referred to me as Dr. Frankenstein.” He pulled at his fuzzy hair.
“Where was that?”
“Another place. Anyhow, because of my work and appearance, they called me Frankenstein behind my back, but I knew. I knew. So when I came here, I decided I needed a lab assistant named Igor. Ah, here he is now.”
A muscular young blond guy came through the door. He had a basket filled with empty glass tubes. Brian hoped to hell he didn’t intend to fill them all.
“Igor, I need the usual amount for a workup, and please be speedy.” Gossling spun around and went to fiddle in a storage cabinet.
“Sorry about that,” the young assistant said. “He’s a little nutty, but harmless. Actually, my name is Jack.” He slipped on a pair of gloves similar to the doctor’s, tied a piece of rubber around Brian’s upper arm, and just before he inserted the need, Brian looked away. He’d always hated needles.
Had he? He frowned as he stared at the wall. Another feeling, like the one about dehydration and flying.
“Okay, all done.” Jack slapped a small bandage on the injection site, picked up his basket, and left. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, Doctor.”
“Yes, yes, fine.” Gossling walked over to Brian holding what looked like a shower cap with a bunch of wired attached. “So, if you will please follow me?”
The two men walked into a small office. There was a chair in the middle and a massive bank of machines along one wall. Brian’s heart rate increased, and his palms sweated.
“What is all this, Doctor?”
“Ah, here is where we hook you up to map out the funny business in your brain. If nothing comes out, we’ll have to throw you in a hole and bury you.” His eyes twinkled with merriment.
Brian sat in the chair, and the doctor carefully placed the cap on his head. He whistled a tuneless melody until Jake walked in pulling on his lead-lined gloves.
“Relax, my friend,” Gossling said. “We’ve only lost one customer so far this week.”
“Oh, what did you do with the body?”
“It’s buried in the woods, like all the others. Okay, now you’ll have to sit still and be quiet for a bit. I’ll let you know when it’s permissible to talk again.”
Brian sat upright in the chair, tense and waiting for pain. Finally, he managed to relax an
d rest his head against the back of the padded chair. He heard the murmur of the two men talking behind him but couldn’t make out the words. He was almost asleep when he felt a sharp prick in his scalp.
“Ouch! What the hell was that?”
“Ah ha!” Gossling carefully lifted the helmet off Brian’s scalp. “That, I hope, was a probe into the seat of your psychic abilities. We will see. Igor, the ring please.”
Jack stood in front of Brian, shaking his head. “Okay, here’s how this works. I hope you don’t mind, but we borrowed your opal ring and made a few adjustments.”
Brian didn’t have time to be angry that someone had come into his room and taken his property because Jack just plowed ahead.
“It’s a bit technical, and you really don’t need to know it works, but basically, if you turn the opal one click to the right, you’ll block any messages into your brain. Here, try it.”
He took Brian’s left hand and slipped the ring on his finger. It felt the same, maybe a little heavier.
“Go ahead, turn the stone.”
Brian turned it to the left and felt a soft click as it slipped into place.
“Can you see that little red spot on the stone? Whenever that’s pointing to the left, you won’t get messages. Point the red dot ahead, and you’ll be like a big receiver.” Jack stepped back, ginning. “Want to give it a try?”
“Okay.” He licked his lips and turned the stone. Jack put his hand out, and Brian grasped it. Thoughts and visions flew through his head along with an instant, fierce headache.
He snatched his hand back.
“Jesus, did you really have sex with two women last night?”
“Igor!” Gossling scuttled around to look up at his assistant. His eyes were huge behind his thick glasses.
“Wow, I thought maybe you’d be able to tell me what I ate for breakfast or what color jockey shorts I’m wearing.” Jack ran the back of his hand across his forehead to mop away the sweat gathered there.
“You wear underwear? Who cares! I want to hear about the women.” Gossling practically frothed at the mouth.
Mysterious Gift Page 6
