'For what I'm paying her, she'd better find the mother lode of dirt on this bastard.... I'm sick of being his lackey.'
I shook his thoughts out of my head and left the room.
Tommy squealed and threw himself into my arms. "Sam, Daddy's home. And guess what? He's taking us all to the fair! Isn't that great?"
'This is going to be the best day ever.... Maybe Sam can live with us forever and be my big sister.... I can't wait to eat cotton candy.... Daddy's the best.'
My heart cracked. I gave serious thought to dropping this whole thing and telling Higgins I couldn't get anything from the target. Then, I wouldn't have to destroy Tommy's life, and the guilt that ate me alive would go away.
But I would have to stay at least two weeks before pulling an assignment. Rules. If I did that, I'd miss my interview and my contest, and when they released me from Rent-A-Kid in three months I'd have nothing.
How could I seriously consider destroying Tommy's life so I could get into a decent college? His brown eyes and innocent thoughts crashed into me. With a sinking in my gut, I knew what I had to do—blow the assignment, regardless of the cost to me.
I mentally waved farewell to all of my dreams as I took Tommy's hand and helped him get ready for the fair.
***
Utah millionaires weren't uncommon, it appeared, but it didn't change the charm of small town fairs. In a large field, a spectacle of lights and sounds had been erected to entertain the populace. Colorful booths attracted kids of all ages to win cheap toys and stuffed animals by throwing balls in cups or shooting down fake bunny targets. A large carrousel stood in the center of the fair, an iconic symbol of the American heartland.
Tommy only cared about one thing: cotton candy. He darted through throngs of people to snag his place in a long line of sugar-craving children.
Mrs. Beaumont hadn't joined us, as she was attending some event or another for her social club. Mr. Dollinger had begged out by claiming work duties, then eyed me with a look that meant I'd better come home with something good to tell him.
I had no intention of doing any such thing, but his absence did make for an awkward dynamic with the three of us, plus my Gar shadow, who just stood and watched and never said a word. While Tommy's dad presented a respectable and attractive front, something about him made my skin crawl. Yet he'd been incredibly generous, hospitable and kind since my arrival—at least when he was actually present.
Though I had decided not to pursue the assignment, I couldn't help dipping into his thoughts from time to time. Money and work consumed his mental focus. He didn't give much airtime to family or anything else, really, which sucked for Tommy but wasn't a crime. It did strike me as odd that he'd taken us all to the fair today, though. He wasn't the kind of man who enjoyed spending the day with his son, while they ate sugary treats together.
We inched up in line, and Mr. Beaumont pulled out $200 and handed it to me. "Sam, would you mind taking care of Tommy for a bit? I need to find a bathroom and make a call. Just get him whatever he wants and take him on some rides."
Tommy's face fell when he realized his dad planned to ditch us.
I covered my anger with a smile and took the money. "Sure. Will you be joining us later?"
His eyes glazed over and he didn't make eye contact, distracted by something else. "I'll catch up with you two in a bit."
And in that moment, I became the world's most expensive babysitter... on his partner's dime. Rent-A-Kid charged at least $150,000 a day for my time. That worked out to $6,250 per hour if you count sleep. I didn't see all that money, obviously, but still... I had to laugh at the absurdity of it. I would've felt worse for Mr. Dollinger if he weren't such a jerk. The only person I cared about in all of this was Tommy, and so I would do my best to protect him.
To that end, I slipped into his father's mind as I paid for Tommy's pink- and blue-swirled sugar high.
'Too bad Tommy's a boy... girl would have been better... easier to... ah yes... nice fresh meat... mustn't touch... just look... until later... later I can touch that innocent flesh... when no one is around... tomorrow night... they promised me a young one, I can't wait to—'
Enough! My stomach clenched and bile rose in my throat. The air around me thickened until it became hard to breathe. My world narrowed to a pinpoint, as though I would pass out at any moment. I couldn't just hear his thoughts; I could see the images playing around in his mind. In that moment I wanted to gouge out my third eye.
Large hands held me upright and tiny hands tugged at my sweater. "Sam! Sam! Are you okay? What's wrong, Sam?"
My vision focused on Tommy's big eyes widened in fear. Gar stood behind me to keep me from falling.
I composed myself and found the ground under my feet. "I'm okay. I just got dizzy for a second. Probably just need to eat something."
Tommy nodded as if all of life's problems could be solved with food. He pulled me toward the food court. "Come on, we'll get you a hotdog. They are the best ever!"
Gar stood just inches from me with a look that I could have mistaken as concern, if I thought he cared at all. "Are you okay? Did you get something on the father?"
I didn't try to hide my surprise. He hadn't expressed any interest in my assignment until that moment, but it helped to have him on my side.
I nodded. "It's bad. Can I use your phone?"
He narrowed his eyes but pulled it out of his jacket pocket. "Who are you calling?"
"Dollinger."
I dialed the number from memory and tapped my foot as it rang. "Keep an eye on Tommy, okay?"
Gar's face squished together as though I'd asked him to change a dirty diaper, but he moved his eyes to Tommy, who was busy eating his treat—at least that part of it not smeared across his face.
My client's voice came on the line. "This is Sam. I have what you need to take down Beaumont." I told him what I'd overheard in the man's mind.
I hated to hurt Tommy this way, but leaving him in the care of that monster would have been worse.
Once I filled Dollinger in on the details, I expected him to say that I had done my job and was free to go.
"That's not enough. We need hard proof. Keep digging."
"What? You need to stop him before tomorrow night. Before he...." I couldn't even bring myself to finish the sentence.
"This isn't about stopping him. It's about catching him red-handed so he can't weasel out of this with his fancy lawyers and destroy everything I've worked for."
I couldn't decide who was the bigger monster, but in that moment I wanted them both to pay.
I handed the phone back to Gar, and forced myself to keep up with Tommy the rest of the day.
After several rides and more junk food, I just couldn't focus.
Tommy could tell that my mind was elsewhere. "Sam, what's wrong? Are you still sick? Do you want a nap?"
"I'm okay, but it's probably time we find your dad and head home. Your mom will want to hear about the exciting day you've had."
His blue, candy-covered lips frowned, but he didn't argue.
I pretended to look for Mr. Beaumont, even though I knew exactly where he was.
We found him by the merry-go-round, which Tommy insisted on riding.
Mr. Beaumont stood a little too close to me as we watched his son balance on the horse. His dark blue three-piece suit, nice tan, and fit physique hid the monster lurking beneath the pretty veneer. From his perfectly highlighted caramel hair to his glow-in-the-dark teeth, he screamed "fake." I imagined his skin peeling off to reveal a slimy troll, complete with red beady eyes and swollen pink lips oozing something green.
What did the little girls see when he first walked in to greet them? Did they see a respectable man in his early 40s, someone safe and nice? Or could they sense the impending danger?
He smiled at me as if he knew what I was thinking. "Sam, have you enjoyed the fair?"
"Yes, but I'm not feeling well. I think I ate something that didn't agree with me."
He checked his phone. "We'll
be leaving after this ride. I have to get to work."
The whole ride home, I fought an internal war. Should I listen to his thoughts or not? I couldn't stomach hearing more of his vile intentions, but if Dollinger wasn't satisfied, more information would help.
I slipped back in, but he had put aside his perversions for worry over work.
I would have to find another way to catch this bastard.
Chapter 7 – Sam
For a man who'd hardly been home the last two days, Mr. Beaumont sure broke his pattern that afternoon. He locked himself in his home office, the one place I needed to be to get Dollinger what he wanted.
Nothing revolted me more than spending time in his mind, but I had to maintain mental contact to complete this mission.
After a long evening and a sleepless night tossing and turning in the guest room, I finally got my chance to snoop the next morning when my target left for work.
While Tommy spent some time with his mother, I snuck into Mr. Beaumont's office and locked it behind me. Gar joined me, as I didn't want him standing guard outside—might as well put up flashing neon lights announcing my intentions, in that case.
Gar stood by the door and watched as I turned on Mr. Beaumont's desktop computer. I'd seen him use his phone and iPad to check appointments, and he probably had a backup calendar on his computer. I'd already captured his password from my long—and torturous—evening of mental spying.
Lucy could have just hacked into his system without the mind probes, but I had to rely on old-fashioned methods.
A few clicks of the keys and up popped his calendar.
My heart raced as I scanned his daily appointments, looking for anything that might incriminate him, while simultaneously scanning the house mentally to make sure I wouldn't get caught.
Work. Work. Business appointment. Work.
Nothing jumped out at me. I looked for anything that evening, as his thoughts had indicated some kind of rendezvous with a young girl.
He'd listed a phone number next to 7 p.m. I jotted it down in a notebook, then pulled open his browser history and looked through his desktop files. I'd need more than a random number to get him.
My hands shook and my stomach heaved at the images I found. The idiot had even photographed himself with young girls. I copied it all onto my USB drive and shut down the computer as quickly as possible. I needed to get out of this house and back to school.
My sweaty palm slipped on the doorknob just as my mind latched onto Mr. Beaumont's. He was home and heading my way. Panic scissored through me. I hid the USB and looked to Gar for guidance, but what could he do? I'd gotten us into this and I'd have to get us out.
Mr. Beaumont would see me leaving his office, but I had to risk it. With a fake smile so big it hurt my cheeks, I walked out and ran straight into his chest. My skin crawled at the contact with this psycho.
"Sam, what are you doing in my office?"
"Looking for you, of course. But you weren't there. I was wondering if you wanted to try another afternoon at the fair? I'm feeling better and thought it might be fun."
Please say no. Please say no.
"I'm sorry, Sam, but I've got some work to do, and I'll be gone this evening for meetings." He pulled out another $300 from his wallet. "If you want to take Tommy, you two have fun. It's on me."
I pocketed the money and slunk away, fighting the vomit that rose in my throat.
I walked into the family room and found Tommy, wearing pressed jeans and a salmon-colored polo shirt, playing on the floor with his yellow truck.
"Vroom, vroom. Watch this, Sam." He crashed the truck into the leg of a handmade rosewood table. Probably not something Tommy should bang against. The whole room could have been modeled after a magazine spread. Not exactly kid friendly with the $3,000 knickknacks. Who spent that much on a decorative egg?
The clicking of high heels—Manolo Blahnik, naturally, because Prada was so last season—approached from behind. Mrs. Beaumont pranced in, tall, blonde and elegant, with big brown eyes like Tommy, draped in a cream cashmere dress that hugged her curves. My jeans and t-shirt just couldn't compete.
"Tommy dear, no slamming toys into the furniture. Why don't you go in your room and play?"
"But Sam is here. I want to play with Sam."
"Actually," I said, "I'm looking for Mr. Dollinger. Have either of you seen him?"
According to her husband's thoughts, she was a dead fish in bed and therefore the cause of his perversions. Yeah, right.
She looked relieved that my presence would no longer be an argument point for the boy. "Yes, he's on his cell phone by the pool. At least he was a moment ago."
I thanked her, gave Tommy a quick hug, and excused myself to the backyard. Gar trailed behind me.
***
This level of wealth didn't impress me the way it might some. We lived well at Rent-A-Kid, with the best of everything—I'd endured so many formal dinners, etiquette training, and socialization classes. At least we enjoyed everything money could buy. After all, we had to impress and fit in with some of the wealthiest people in the world.
Still, their custom pool looked more fitting for a resort than a backyard, with slides in different sizes and shapes, and rock formations and plant life strategically placed to give the whole space a tropical feel. A few fruity drinks with umbrellas, and you'd never know you were in Utah.
Under a transplanted palm tree, my client engaged in an urgent conversation with someone in hushed tones. His pressed pinstripe suit hardly fit the pool setting.
Hmmm... wonder what has money bags so riled?
When he saw me, he ended the conversation and slipped his iPhone into his pocket.
"What is it, Sam?" 'I really hope she's not reading my mind right now... how can I get her to stop?... lalalala... I hope this plan works and I get rid of this ass... does my wife know about Lisa?... it only happened once... no need to tell her... am I getting fat?... maybe I should hit the gym harder when this is all over... Sam is hot... I wonder... such long silky brown hair... clear skin... bright blue eyes... no... she's just a kid... shit... is she listening to me?'
"He has kiddie porn on his computer." I handed him a slip of paper. "Here's a number for his mystery meeting tonight at 7 p.m. You should have everything you need to put him away for good and take over his business."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His smiles never did. "This is great news. Thanks, I'll call and let them know you did well."
I turned to walk away.
His thoughts stopped me. 'How best to play this... what should I do...? could use this information to my advantage.'
Did I really want to get involved? I'd completed my job. Time to return to Rent-A-Kid. Just walk away. The aftereffects of my work were irrelevant. Not my problem.
I couldn't move. My traitorous body refused to follow my mental commands to keep walking. My heart beat so rapidly I thought it would leap right out of my chest.
I turned to face him, questioning my own sanity even as I did. "You are going to stop him from hurting that girl, aren't you?"
"Yes, of course, I'm as outraged as you. Honestly, I had no idea he had this kind of secret. I assumed we'd catch him at something more benign, like money laundering or tax evasion." 'Disgusting bastard... no idea he was so foul... still... if I get video and pictures... catch him red-handed... I can blackmail him forever... better than just getting him arrested... right?... more money and control for me... could hire someone....'
"No!" My outburst surprised even me. "You can't let him hurt that girl and get away to do it again to someone else. You have to stop him."
"Look, kid, you stay out of my head. I didn't pay you to spy on my thoughts, you hear me?"
The threat of danger bit at me, warning me. Years of unquestioning obedience transformed into a new, entirely unexpected rebellion.
I recalled Beaumont's thoughts. His plans. His past deeds. "I really don't care about your money. I do care about that little girl and all the o
ther little girls he might hurt. So you are going to make sure he is arrested and found guilty, or your wife will get a mysterious note exposing your secret with Lisa."
I reflected on my perfect track record, my future at Sarah Lawrence College, the art contest, the consequences to those who had broken the rules. Would I be fined? Forced to clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush? I weighed all this in my mind, knowing the answer instantly. I knew too much, had seen and heard too much.
No matter. I no longer cared what happened to me.
His face turned bright red, hands balled into fists, jaw grinding.
Might as well add some fuel to the growing fire. "And you should definitely consider hitting the gym. You're getting love handles, and your wife isn't finding them too sexy."
His hand flew at me, and the pain exploded in my cheek as I crashed into the pool. Darkness drew me close, surrounding me in a watery cocoon. Awareness flittered into oblivion. The pain receded into a dull background noise easily tuned out. I barely felt the strong arms pull me out and lay me unceremoniously on the warm tile.
Gar helped me to stand. Dizziness sent me into the arms of my silent sentry.
He held onto me as I regained my balance, then turned to Dollinger with a fierce expression on his face. "That was a mistake." Gar lifted our client by the collar. "Apologize."
I tried to focus my sights on our client, but something blocked my vision. I swiped at my face, and flinched. It felt like a giant golf ball had taken up residence in my eye socket. "Gar, it's okay. Put him down."
Gar paused for a moment, and just when I thought he would beat the man bloody, he dropped him onto the cement.
I did my best to lock eyes with Dollinger. I'd never been physically abused before, and my whole body shook from the pain, adrenaline, and fear. "You will never touch me again. And you will make sure this pervert is put away for good. If you don't, I'll make your life hell. I can reach you anywhere, find out anything about you, and destroy you. Are we clear?"
He glared at me, then at my muscleman, and nodded.
I walked back to the house with the help of my guard.
***
"Oh my dear, what happened? Are you okay?" Mrs. Beaumont rushed to me, her concern masked by too many Botox injections.
The Forbidden Trilogy Page 5
