by Treva Harte
"So. What do you want to do?" Wynn prodded.
"Tell Security. Let them do their job."
"Not Jock."
"Jock disappeared a few days ago. He hasn't come back. You know something about that?" Art looked at him.
"Maybe. Don't let him back."
Art's frown was real, for just a moment, then slid away into the bland expression he had before.
"Too bad. I liked the man."
What was wrong with Art?
There was an easy answer to that one. Emmanuel was what was wrong. What else could it be? Wynn thought about his own incredible lack of concern not too long ago in the face of danger.
Well, that wasn't good. Wynn hadn't been able to link with Art, but that didn't mean no one could. Emmanuel had a powerful gift.
If Emmanuel could slide into his mind without Wynn being aware of the entrance, then perhaps Emmanuel could enter the mind of someone Wynn couldn't.
Wynn swallowed.
He'd wondered which of them was more powerful. Now he wasn't sure he liked the answer. Hell, maybe Cassie was more powerful than he was, too. After all, she could figure out what had happened to Wynn when he couldn't. Funny how quickly someone could go from feeling proud of themselves to feeling like dirt within minutes.
He didn't like the scared feeling he was getting, either. How was he supposed to cope with this?
"I'll head out then, Art." Wynn figured he sounded casual, unconcerned. "You take care of yourself."
"Of course. Who else will?"
That same friendly smile flashed out. Wynn didn't feel warmed and included this time. Not too long ago he'd felt afraid, annoyed, worried. Now he felt sad.
Art needed to put on his politician act for him now. Art had never felt that need with Wynn before. He shouldn't have to feel that way about Wynn.
Wynn gripped the other man's hand in a quick, impersonal good-bye handshake. Obviously Art knew how to shake hands and move on quickly. Another trick he'd picked up from his job.
Inwardly Wynn mouthed his father's favorite Welsh curses. Why had he let his ambition get him into this? Why had he been kidding himself all these years? You couldn't depend on people but they got dependent on you. That was the biggest flaw with getting close to people in the first place. Not long ago he had been a man on his own, looking after himself, and now suddenly he was saddled with people. Worse, all of these people had problems that Wynn wanted to solve.
Who in their right mind wanted to do that? Why bother? He'd known how he felt about other people and their problems even when he'd been a little gutter rat running from trouble with his Da. You shouldn't care about people because you couldn't depend on them. Those were the words he'd recited like a mantra since he first saw Da creating messes and leaving others with the cleanup.
Obeying those old feelings, he accepted Art's dismissal for what it was, nodded, and started walking away. Walking away was easy.
He could feel the Secret Service agents staring at him as he went. They probably had him marked down as some mysterious threat. That was fine. Let them sniff out threats to Art.
If only he could believe they would figure out where the real threat was coming from and take care of the situation. Bloody hell, he'd love to wash his hands of all this and really take off.
But he couldn't. What sane Secret Service agent would ever believe in the danger Wynn knew existed? And even if some insane one was willing to entertain the idea all this might be true, what would that agent be able to do about it? What could anyone do?
Cassie.
Wynn felt a wash of relief. Maybe he couldn't beat Emmanuel on his own. But he wasn't alone, even though he might prefer things that way. He and Cassie were a team. Together they could at least match if not check Emmanuel.
He hoped.
He needed to talk to Cassie. He was out of ideas but that didn't mean they weren't going to be able to come up with some way to get all of them out of this mess.
He thought about Cassie, about watching her scowl thoughtfully as she concentrated on coming up with a plan. Just the thought of that scowl felt comforting. He needed Cassie right now. She might come up with some off the wall idea, but she'd come up with something. Cassie always did—or she helped him figure out what to do. She wouldn't leave him on his own in this. He could count on that.
Realization hit. Oh God. Cassie was the person he depended on.
He'd told her he loved her, but he hadn't thought enough about what that meant. What was he supposed to do about her? Whatever it was, he knew he could never just walk away from her. He knew he didn't even want to do that. He depended on her and he cared too much.
Bloody, bloody hell. Everything he thought he'd known about himself was changing because of her. What did you do with all these feelings?
He didn't know what to do about Art and that bothered him. Needing Cassie's help for Art didn't bother him nearly as much as it should. But who could help him with Cassie?
No one. And that answer terrified him.
Chapter Sixteen
"Emily?"
"Cassie! Thank God!" Cassie was a little stunned when her normally unflappable girlfriend ran to her to give her a hug.
"Hey! It's not like I was gone that long!" Cassie protested.
"You idiot! I find Ned being beaten up by thugs in your house, you've disappeared and don't return any calls and then Ned tells me something about you being with this new guy who is bad news. If Ned thinks someone is bad news, I can't imagine how awful he is. What is going on?" Emily's hold on Cassie was changing from a hug to a shake.
"Unhand me and I'll tell you. Just calm down, will you?" Cassie took a step back.
Then she looked at the kitchen that she'd just entered.
Cassie vaguely remembered the large, pristine living room Emily had presided over during her marriage. Good food and drink combined with smart conversation. Cassie had always felt intimidated.
This was different.
"Your kitchen is a wreck!" Cassie said.
"You came here to give me household hints? I know it's a wreck. The oldest is down with the flu, the twins have been fighting and getting into things and I've been lucky to just manage to find time to cook food this weekend. Forget about cleaning up." Emily paused, took a deep breath and then said, "But enough about me. Tell me about your week, dear. Right now, damn it!"
Emily pointed to the one kitchen chair that didn't have something piled up in it. Cassie sat down.
"Actually I can't tell you everything," Cassie started, cautiously. "It's sort of complicated."
"And dangerous." Emily looked grim.
"Dangerous, yeah. I guess you could say it's dangerous."
"And how much of that is this new guy's fault?"
"Well, it's not exactly his fault. Not really."
Emily shut the kitchen door, locked it, and then stood in front of the door, arms crossed.
"I have time. The kids are asleep now. It's either clean up the kitchen or listen to you. So why don't you explain some more?"
Cassie realized her need to reassure her friend and get some reassurance was backfiring. She hadn't thought about what she could and couldn't say before now.
"Wynn isn't bad news, Em. He's a wonderful guy. Ned may not like him because Wynn is competition but Wynn is smart and—and he says he loves me."
"Somehow this doesn't reassure me. Maybe it was looking at those goons' faces when they were with Ned. Try telling me more."
"Um. Well, Wynn works for Senator Hornsby and he's—he's discovered something serious in the course of his job. Really serious." Cassie looked at Emily. "I don't know how much I can tell you, Em! It could be dangerous for you and, well, I don't know how much Wynn would want others to know."
Emily opened her mouth when a large thud came from outside. The two of them turned as another thud hit the door.
"I'm calling the police," Emily said.
She stopped in the middle of the kitchen.
"Damn it, where is the cell
phone in here?" Emily snarled. "I can't find anything in this mess!"
Both Emily and Cassie began to pull things off the table and counters, trying to locate the phone. The thuds continued.
Emily held up the phone from under a mound of what looked like children's finger-painting just as the man burst through the door.
"What the hell is going on?" He roared.
"Wynn?" Cassie gasped. "Emily, it's Wynn!"
"Fine. Shall I call the police?" Emily didn't loose her grip on the phone.
"No, he's just upset for some reason. He isn't homicidal or anything, really!" Cassie gasped.
"I am bloody homicidal. I came back and you weren't there. I told myself you were off doing your job. So I waited. Woman, do you know what time it is? It's dark out! I thought for sure Emmanuel had taken you!" Wynn was shouting.
Wynn never shouted.
"I got done and I thought I should stop by Emily's and just tell her I'm all right." Cassie spoke as soothingly as she knew how. "Oh, Emily, this is Wynn. Wynn, Emily."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Emily murmured.
"I'm sorry about the door," Wynn didn't look too sorry. "I'll get it replaced, of course. Lucky for me it was one of those newer, flimsy models. Otherwise I might've broken my foot kicking it in."
"Lucky indeed." Emily stared pensively at the door.
"How did you find me?" Cassie asked.
Wynn looked at Emily and then back at her.
"I could tell when you got here," he told her.
*I picked up on your thoughts. What do you think? We need to get out of here so we can talk.*
"I'm going to check and make sure the kids didn't wake up after all that noise. I intend to be back in ten minutes or so. Make sure you tell me what is going on. And get your stories straight, will you?" Emily glared at both Cassie and Wynn. "Cassie, I assume you know this guy well enough to know whether he's dangerous. But, mister, if I hear anything going on that sounds like my friend is getting hurt—I mean, anything—I'm calling the police."
"And so you should." Wynn didn't look happy when he told her that. "But I'd never do anything like that to Cassie."
Emily narrowed her eyes, carefully studied Wynn, and then she walked out, still clutching the cell phone.
Wynn let out a long sigh that seemed to let out some of the uncharacteristic temper he'd displayed.
"I probably didn't make the best impression on your girlfriend," Wynn finally said. "But I was worried about you, you know. And I've been feeling a bit unsettled all day. Not having you where I thought you'd be was the last straw."
"That's OK. Emily pretty much has decided my taste in men will always be bad," Cassie told him.
Wynn winced a little. He knew he deserved more than that, though he didn't want to talk about his stupidity at the moment.
"Can we go home to finish this conversation? Your friend will be back in a few minutes. I doubt she really wants to see more of me." Wynn glanced over at the splintered lock on the door he'd kicked down.
"You have a point. I'll just tell her we're going or she'll call the police."
Wynn sighed again.
* * * * *
"So? What's up? You sounded like you needed to talk," Cassie sounded remarkably calm under the circumstances. Wynn had to give her credit for that.
Perversely, he wondered if he could shake her up with his news. He snapped out what had happened and what he thought might have happened without preliminaries. When he was over, he waited for her reaction.
She said nothing for a moment.
Then Cassie shrugged.
"Now what?" she asked.
"I was hoping you'd know."
His dependable Cassie. Wynn felt his mouth curving up, even as Cassie kept looking at him as if she had no clue.
"This is out of my league," Cassie told him. "Jesus, Wynn, almost everything you tell me is out of my league. How am I supposed to know how to save Art?"
"Because you're smart. Because your gift may even be more powerful than mine—after all, Emmanuel got to me, not you. Because you just will."
"Please. Emmanuel didn't even think I had a—a gift. He never tried to do anything to me. I can't blame him for not knowing. Shoot, I never even had a gift as far as I knew until you showed up. And what does all that have to do with me dealing with a presidential candidate's assassination anyhow?"
"I don't know. You're the college grad, not me." Wynn enjoyed the look on her face immensely.
"Yeah. I can see you need some education in logic anyhow." Exasperated, she slung the bucket and mop she had brought in the door close to his head. "I'm taking this to the kitchen. You can bring in the vacuum. That would at least be a sensible plan. I haven't gotten much sense from you so far."
Wynn trailed meekly behind her, still unreasonably—Cassie would say illogically—amused. For some reason being with her could both amuse and calm him. Even when she was being no help to him at all.
"All right then." Cassie put her equipment away and sat down at the table. "Let's strategize."
"Yes, ma'am." He folded his hands meekly on the table as he sat across from her. Pandora came from out of nowhere to leap into his lap. Absently he began to stroke the soft fur.
"You're telling me we have to save Art from Emmanuel and Art isn't going to help. Right?"
"Right."
"Who will?"
"I don't know." Wynn shrugged. "We know everyone around Art that he trusts is Emmanuel's. Or if they aren't, we still can't be sure of them."
"That bites." Cassie scowled and then stood up again.
She saw Wynn smile at her frown and she scowled harder. That didn't seem to stop his stupid grinning at all. The man could be very annoying. Rather than snap at him, she began to make coffee.
"Well, then. If we trust what I saw, then whatever happens will be in a big crowd. A friendly crowd."
"Indeed."
"Before he has nominated whoever it is he's picked."
"That should be really soon."
"Well, can't we go be part of a crowd? I guess we're the ones going to have to keep our eyes open. And our minds."
"We're going to go to every campaign rally Art is going to in the next few days? Have mercy!"
"It's not like I'm excited about doing this." Cassie looked exasperated again. "Do you have a better idea?"
No. He didn't. Damn it.
Cassie went back to scowling again.
"What if Emmanuel hasn't taken over Art's mind? What if you just think he has?"
"What does that mean? You think Art is just so distracted by the campaign—"
"—or maybe by realizing Lida and all his friends are betraying him—"
*That he doesn't care any more? Art had to know how strange things can get by the end of a campaign. He's done a million of them.*
*That doesn't mean he can't get hurt, Wynn! Besides, this is the biggest campaign of his life.*
"Or do you mean something else?" Wynn scowled now. "Cassie, honestly here. Tell me."
"What?"
"You think Emmanuel is messing with me again?"
"Oh God. You think Emmanuel has taken over Art's head because he's really taken over your head and made you think Art is the problem." Cassie gripped the coffee mug she had just taken out. "Ouch. Now my head hurts."
"We know he can place ideas in my mind. We don't know what, if anything, he can do with Art. It's just Art seemed so—so different. But maybe he only seemed different to me."
"Ouch! Ouch!" Cassie held up a hand. "Stop!"
She was playing the flake for him this time. And she was stalling for time. Wynn was getting too good at figuring her out, with or without telepathy.
"It's possible, isn't it." Wynn knew what she didn't want to say.
"I haven't seen anything unusual about you lately. I knew last time. Eventually."
"But it's possible."
"Yeah."
"Then hanging around Art is the last thing I should do. I may be a danger to him."
&n
bsp; "Well no one is going to believe me if I go alone and point out a problem!" Cassie yelped. "I'm not Art's advisor! All he knows about me is that I was your messenger girl once. And I bet I wouldn't even get close enough to talk to him anyhow. You're our passport to Art. Damn Emmanuel. Now he's got you second guessing yourself and he probably hasn't done anything to you. He doesn't need to."
They were both quiet but Wynn could almost hear the frustration humming between the two of them.
"Back to the original plan. We go together. We both watch out for Art but you also watch for me," Wynn growled. "You're going to bring something along to stop me if you need to."
"What?"
"Surprise me. You're good at that."
And then she did.
In a small voice, Cassie said, "Wynn. Maybe I'm not much of a help to you. What if my gift isn't all that powerful? Hey, what if I'm thinking will happen is entirely wrong?"
"Huh?"
"I'm not sure I can link up with anyone but you. I could get Emmanuel's thoughts, but only through your mind. Maybe you're the only one I can do this with. After all, I've never done this with anyone but you. Well, I did think once maybe Emmanuel made me call Ned but then I figured I was wrong. I think it's just you."
"I—don't know." Wynn thought about that. "You know we haven't been around many other people in the last few days. Those people we've been with are ones you had to block your gift from. Otherwise it's been just you and me. You haven't had much of a chance to try your gift."
That idea made him uncomfortable. He could be on his own for days without thinking much about it but being with just one other person and not feeling trapped—that was different. That was intimate.
Oh bloody hell. Was he actually going to have to acknowledge that being with Cassie was different than with other people?
"Anyhow, what difference does that make now? For our current purposes, being able to talk to only me does just fine. Your main job is to be around to keep me in line, right?" Wynn dismissed the uncomfortable ideas Cassie was trying to introduce. "And if what you thought about Art being shot is wrong—well, good. We'll go to hear a few speeches for no particular reason. How can that manage to hurt us?"
Cassie didn't look like she wanted to forget the idea but before she could vent whatever was making her scowl, she relaxed.
