“Great. It’s good to see you, Tasmyn.” Those brown eyes bore into mine, but I felt no animosity, only kindness and a sort of peace.
“Yeah, you too, Mr. Philips.”
He laughed. “Hey, please. Call me Seth. Mr. Philips is like my father or better yet, my grandfather.” He rolled his eyes and I couldn’t help smiling.
“Okay, Seth. Are you doing your Bible study out here today?”
He looked around as though I had reminded him. “Yeah, in about an hour. I just came out to scope out a spot.” He returned his eyes to mine. “But how are you, Tasmyn? You look a little unhappy. Worried, maybe.”
I smiled again. “Does having a shrink for a girlfriend give you intuition by proxy?”
He laughed, that same joy-filled sound, and I was glad I hadn’t offended him. “Nah, and Aline is really tight-lipped anyway. Neither of us talks much about our work. You don’t have to be a professional to sense when someone’s struggling with something. And you don’t have to be a shrink to lend an ear. So. . .you want to talk?”
I was about to say no when instead, I heard different words coming out of my mouth.
“Do you believe in fate? I mean, are there things that are destined to be a certain way, and no matter what happens, no one can change them?”
Seth leaned back on the grass, forehead wrinkled in thought. “That’s a tough one. Well, I guess, no, I don’t think any of us are locked into anything. You know? We have free will. We can choose a path, and then if we start to realize we’re going down the wrong one, we can turn back. Start over. Right?” He looked deep into my eyes again, as though he could see my soul. I was mesmerized and only nodded.
“So I think people always have a choice. And that’s what it comes down to. When you get the information, when it’s front of you, choose dark, choose light, what are you going to do?”
I cocked my head. “Isn’t that a little simplistic? Choose right or wrong?”
Seth shook his head emphatically. “No. Not usually. If it were, don’t you think a lot more people would be deciding to do the right thing? Nah, there’s usually a bunch of confusing things wrapped up in it. Like consequence. What if I think that choosing light might be harder in the short term? There could be fallout. That’s what keeps more people from making the right decision. Very few people choose darkness for its own sake.”
I pondered that. “But what if someone’s actions end up hurting a lot of other people who were completely innocent? What if they’re the ones who get the fallout?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that sucks. Happens a lot. But it still comes down to that c-word, Tas—choice. Someone might have a crappy childhood, have every right to be bitter, but she still can choose to embrace the light. Plenty of people do. People are deciding for the good every day, you know. Sometimes the ones who go the other way are just louder.”
I snorted. “People are making momentous decisions like that and no one notices? I don’t think so. You’d hear more about it.”
“Not all the choices are momentous ones. Sometimes it’s the smallest ones that matter the most. A life is made up of those small decisions for good.”
I closed my eyes, loving the sun on my face. Sitting next to Seth felt peaceful and right; not in any way that threatened my love for Michael, but in a completely different sort of love. His mind was calm and easy.
I had never been comfortable with religious people, particularly preachers or ministers. I heard too much hypocrisy in their minds to trust them. And then of course Reverence Pryce hadn’t done much to change my mind, what with trying to drown me.
But Seth was different. He wasn’t preaching at me, yet his words struck a chord and gave me more answers than I had ever really had.
“Seth,” I ventured, keeping my eyes closed, “what do you think about gifts? I mean, does God give people special talents? Or is that all. . .evil? From the dark?”
I felt and heard him chuckling. “You ask some really awesome questions, Tas. Sure you don’t want to join my Bible study?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on. “It comes down to the same thing. Let’s say God gives someone an ability. A special ability. And then that person uses the gift in a bad way. They’ve made their decision. But then again, if you use that talent in an amazing way that helps other people. . .how can anyone say it’s evil?”
Tears filled my still-closed eyes and trickled down my cheeks. It was a tremendous relief to hear Seth answer this question.
We sat there for another few moments. The silence wasn’t awkward, not even when I sniffled loudly and wiped the tears off my face. Seth’s mind almost reminded me of a meditation tape, so deliciously relaxing.
I heard him stretch and rise, and a moment later, I felt Michael nearby. Seth was waving to him.
“Hey, Michael! I’m Seth Philips. I’m a friends of Aline’s, and I’ve gotten to know Tasmyn a little through her.” He nodded down at me. “Great girl you have here. We’ve been having an interesting discussion.” He reached down to squeeze my shoulder before he straightened and offered his hand to Michael.
“Good to meet you, man. Blessings on both of you.” He beamed down at me, across at Michael and then loped down the green, seeking his Bible study, I imagined.
“Wow.” Michael dropped next to me. “What a cool guy.”
“You got that from just a handshake?”
Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re rubbing off on me, and I’m getting that intuition thing.”
I reached on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Well, you nailed this one. Seth is pretty cool.” I snagged his hand and tugged at it.
“Where are we going?”
“To the grocery store. I’m going to make dinner for you and Charlie tonight, and while we shop, I’ll tell you about my talk with Seth.”
“Cathryn, I don’t understand. I heard what we needed to hear. I finished the mission. Congressman Remington did not kill Helene Gamble. Why do I have to go back there?”
We were standing out in the middle of a field on the grounds of Harper Creek. Emma hadn’t been around to make sure we weren’t overheard, so Cathryn had steered me beyond the gardens, down a small path through the woods and out into this open area, shielded between two small hills.
“Tasmyn, you don’t determine when the mission is over. We do. The client does. And Nick Massler is not satisfied that your job is done. He wants you to continue.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sitting in this campaign headquarters three days a week, pretending to have some sort of passion for getting Remington elected to the Senate. I haven’t heard anything that makes me think he had anything to do with the murder. He flat out said he didn’t, and Cathryn, you know I would have heard it in his head. Some kind of echo of guilt.”
“Probably. But what if it wasn’t the congressman who did it? Plenty of other people invested in his election who would have seen the advantage to knocking Nick out of the race before he even got into it.”
“If that’s the case, they’re not thinking about it while I’m there. Emma has even nudged a few of them to think about Helene. Mostly they sit there wondering why she popped into their minds. No, there’s no guilt there.”
“It’s still the most likely scenario. Nick believes that.”
I threw up my hands. “Yes, Nick would say that. Did you ever think that maybe he has us on this wild goose chase to keep us from picking up on his guilt? Remington could be a beautiful red herring, taking the heat off Nick.”
“It’s not our job to determine who killed Helene Gamble, unless that person works in the Remington organization. We are not the police.” Cathryn crossed her arms across her chest.
“He still looks like suspect number one to me.”
“You don’t think I considered that right away?” Cathryn shot back. “I asked him at our first meeting. And I listened very carefully. Remember, Tasmyn, you’re not the only one who can hear thoughts.”
“Then maybe it was just a random killing. A robbery that she inter
rupted. Just a tragic mistake.”
“No, the police believe she was killed by someone she knew. It was too intimate a killing to be that random. And the apartment where she was killed—Nick owned it. They met there sometimes, but neither of them lived there. He has no idea why she would have been at the apartment that night, unless someone lured her there.”
I shook my head. “Nick still seems like the most likely person to have done that.”
Cathryn sighed, ran a hand over her hair and looked away from me for a moment. When she turned back, she said, “A compromise, Tasmyn. Give it one more week—that’s three days at the campaign headquarters. If nothing is resolved by then—or if, on the other hand, it’s all taken care of—you can consider your assignment finished. Does that sound reasonable?”
I rolled my eyes and swallowed hard. “I don’t know about reasonable, but I’ll do it. And the next time Nick Massler retains the services of Carruthers, count me out, got it?”
I stalked back to the house but decided not to go inside. I had blown off my Tuesday afternoon classes to confront Cathryn, and now all I wanted to do was get back to campus and spend some time with Michael. As I rounded the corner on my way to the car, I nearly ran headlong into Emma.
“Hey!” She caught my arm and grinned. “Where’s the fire?”
I made a face. “Anywhere but here today. What are you doing here? Are you off assignment?”
“No, I’m still working at Remington central. I read your report. You’re really sure the congressman is innocent?”
I began walking to the car, and Emma trailed along. “I don’t know about innocent, but I’m sure he didn’t kill Helene.”
“You could tell that by listening to him?”
I opened the car door. “I could tell that by asking him and listening to his mind. Even the most experienced liar has a hard time covering up his deepest thoughts. I’m as certain as I can be that Remington didn’t have anything to do with the murder. Now I just have to go finish my time at the headquarters and then I’m done.” I dropped into the driver’s seat, hoping Emma would get the hint and let me leave.
But instead she held onto the top of the door, gazing down at me, her face inscrutable. “Why is Cathryn keeping you there if you’re already convinced Remington didn’t do it?”
“Emma, all I know is that Massler doesn’t want to pull me out yet. He thinks I might hear something else. Cathryn thinks it could be someone else who works for the congressman.” I sighed. “I guess I’ll start listening to Ben and Chelle a little more closely. Think you could nudge them a little for me?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever you say. I just don’t think it’s very likely. If you haven’t heard anything by now, you probably won’t pick up anything else from them. But hey, it’s why we make the big bucks, right?” She tossed me one more bright smile and then turned to go into the house.
I drove back to campus, lost in thought.
By the time I arrived, it was nearly dinnertime. I called Michael to see if he was ready to eat. When he suggested that we forego the dining hall and drive into town, I readily agreed.
“So,” he said, as we slid into the booth at a tiny diner, way off the main drag. “How goes the classified mission?”
I shook my head. “I really hate it, Michael. As much as I liked all the assignments Carruthers gave me before—this one is not why I signed up to work for them.”
He tightened his arm around my shoulders. “Can you drop it? Beg out?”
“Not yet. It’s almost over, and once it is, I don’t care what Cathryn says—I’m going to tell you all about it. You won’t believe who the client is.”
Michael raised one brow. “Now I’m curious.”
“I bet. Hey, you know, life is never boring with me, right?”
Leaning back, he nodded. “Yeah, true.” He began ticking off on his fingers. “Witches, preachers, fires. . .dull is one thing you’re not.”
I sighed, snuggling close beneath his arm. “Do you ever wish you had held out for a nice normal girlfriend?”
“Never.” He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “You’re my danger-prone, insanity-attracting, smoking hot one true love. No regrets.”
“Oh, Tasmyn,” Chelle greeted me the next day. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I could tell immediately why she was glad; the rest of the office was virtually deserted, and she was in some sort of pain.
“Everyone else is working at a rally in Gainesville. Ben thought the congressman should have a presence there.” She shrugged, and I felt her irritation. She didn’t care for Ben, and she didn’t think much of his leadership skills.
“I have an emergency appointment at the dentist.” She winced as she patted her jaw. “I’ve just been waiting for you to get here to hold down the fort.”
“By myself?” I was surprised; I hadn’t been part of the team that long, and this felt like a big responsibility.
“Don’t panic,” Chelle said. “You know how often people come in on a Wednesday. Almost never. Just keep working on your email database, and man the phones. I’m going to lock the door behind me, just in case. Don’t let in anyone you don’t know or who doesn’t have ID. Got it?”
“Sure,” I said. “Good luck at the dentist.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, I’m going to need it. Thanks.”
I watched her leave, twisting the lock and hurrying off to her car. The office was silent and a little eerie.
I hunkered down to the dreaded email database, something that was guaranteed to make even the most caffeinated person doze. The phone was quiet, and the sun that poured through the uncovered front windows was warm. I began to yawn and then to nod. . .
A rattle at the door made me jump as my heart skittered. Ben Ryan stood outside, motioning for me to open up for him. Another man stood with him, looking at me with amused interest.
I unlocked the door and held it open for both of them.
“Tasmyn, what’s going on? Where is everyone? Why isn’t Chelle here?” I focused on blocking the frenetic activity that was Ben’s mind and concentrated instead of his friend, who I perceived was a journalist.
“Everyone is at that rally in Gainesville, I guess,” I answered. “And Chelle had to run to the dentist. She had an emergency.”
Ben muttered something under his breath, and I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know it wasn’t complimentary to Chelle.
“Tasmyn, this is Joe Coffrey. He’s doing a story on Congressman Remington for the Time-Leader, and I’m giving him an interview today. He may want to talk to the rest of the staff and the volunteers, but not today, obviously.”
“Chelle told me no one was coming in,” I explained. “I didn’t expect you. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve had this interview on the schedule for a week,” Ben groused. “Well, doesn’t matter. We’ll go into the back office. Try to keep your eyes open, kid, okay?”
I gritted my teeth and nodded. The two men disappeared behind the closed door, but I could still hear Ben’s booming voice. I put my hands over my ears and tried to concentrate on the stupid database again.
“No, I don’t think the congressman is afraid of Nick Massler.” The loud pronouncement grabbed my attention; I tilted my head in the direction of the office and tuned my inner ear to listen to the men’s conversation.
But it’s a poorly kept secret in political circles that Massler plans to run for the same senate seat Congressman Remington is planning to seek. The newspaper man was looking for a reaction.
Ben laughed in that maddening, condescending way he had. Bring him on. The congressman welcomes a worthy opponent.
Coffrey joined in with a subdued, polite chuckle. Yes, but this worthy opponent comes with a lot of history. They were pretty close friends, I hear. The congressman was best man at Nick Massler’s wedding.
Ben’s voice tightened. That was a long time ago. A very long time ago.
Maybe so. The journalist paused, and I realized he was about
to aim for the jugular. Well, would you or the congressman like to comment on something more recent then? Like the murder of Helene Gamble?
I nearly jumped to my feet in excitement. I wanted to go hug Joe Coffrey and thank him for the absolutely perfect set up he’d just given me.
Ben’s tension was so palpable that even sitting in the outer room, I could feel it as an ache. What would you like to hear? The congressman did not know Ms. Gamble, but we’ve heard about her death. It’s a tragedy, and all of our thoughts and prayers go out to her family.
Coffrey’s voice intensified. But there are rumors that the police like Nick Massler for her murder. How would that impact the senate race?
Ben laughed again, but this time it was ugly. If Massler offed the girl, he’s not going to be free to dabble in politics anymore. He’ll be more occupied with saving his own—uhh—skin.
Coffrey was taken aback. I felt his surprise and near-revulsion. So, Mr. Ryan. . .do you think Massler did it?
What I heard next didn’t come from Ben Ryan’s lips, but instead from a deep interior thought, one he might not even have been aware that he was thinking.
I don’t think it, I know. Didn’t I set them up together? And didn’t I have Helene Gamble on a short leash? So excited that night. . .telling me Massler wanted her to meet him at his private apartment, a candlelit dinner. . .all dressed up she went, thinking he was going to propose. Yeah, right. She didn’t check in and I found her. . .bloody and eyes staring and a mess. Called it in. . anonymously. . .now just waiting. Just waiting to see he’s idiot enough to throw his hat in the ring. He does, the gloves come off. He won’t be the suspect anymore, he’ll be the perp.
I felt dizzy, even sitting still in the chair. I almost missed the words Ben spoke aloud.
Nick Massler has a strange history, Joe. Have you checked it out? Know where he stashed the wife and then later the daughter? Guy like that will do anything to anyone who stands in his way.
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