I considered. “I don’t think he ever said. He was so horrified that I would think he might have done it. . .and then he started telling me about something else. Something unrelated.”
“It might be interesting to get his perspective on it.”
“Or it might make me even crazier. More going around in circles.”
“Never know if you don’t ask.”
I gritted my teeth again and hissed out a breath. “I’ll go see him now. I want to get this over with.”
“Okay. Check in when you’re done.”
I pulled off the road and flipped through my contacts. I didn’t have the congressman’s personal number, but his office number was on our roster. I tapped the number into my phone with unsteady fingers. When I heard the answering voice of his secretary, I drew a deep breath and asked to speak with her boss.
“Congressman Remington? This is Tasmyn Vaughan.”
I heard his weariness. “Hello, Tasmyn. What can I do for you?”
“I need to speak with you. It’s. . it’s about Nick Massler. I found out something, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
There was a pause. “All right. Why don’t you come to my office? I know it’s late, but there are still a few people around. Just come right up. I’ll tell my secretary to expect you.”
I drove the familiar route into town without seeing the fields as I turned over in my mind what I was about to say. I felt almost sorry for John Remington; perhaps he had gotten caught up in a situation that spiraled out of his control. After the other night, I rather thought he might be relieved to admit his guilt.
Remington’s office was on the tenth floor. I could hear minds moving around, the bits and pieces of random thoughts coming from each level as I rode the elevator up. The congressman had been honest about that, at least. I wasn’t walking into an empty building.
His secretary looked up as I approached. She smiled, but there was something just the slightest bit off about her expression—a hint of bewilderment, of confusion.
“The congressman is expecting you,” she said. “But he’s up in his garden, on the roof. He said he thought it would be better for you to talk without distraction.”
The hair prickled at the back of my neck. I wasn’t stupid, and I’d had experience with being led directly into a trap. I grimaced apologetically at the secretary.
“I have a real problem with heights,” I said. “Could you call the congressman and ask him to come back down here?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t take his phone. I know, because I just tried to call him myself to deliver a message, and I could hear it ringing in his office. Sorry.”
I shrugged and took a deep breath. If I could stay close to the doorway, prop it open, I might be able to stay close enough to be safe. Following the direction the secretary had indicated, I opened a door and climbed a set of wooden steps.
There was no door at the other end; the narrow corridor simply opened onto the roof. I could stand on the third step from the top and see almost the entire garden.
I gazed around, casting my mind to try to hear Remington before he saw me. What I heard froze my blood. It was fear, complete and utter terror. And then I spied him.
Congressman John Remington was standing on the very edge of his roof garden. His back was to me, and I pulled in my breath with a hiss as he swayed.
“Mr. Remington!” I screamed. “Don’t move—don’t do it—please, don’t jump—let me get help--”
“NO!” He didn’t turn his head, but his voice was adamant. “No one else. Just. . .you. Come up here. Sit on the bench. But don’t come any closer than that.”
A chill ran down my back, and I left my perch on the steps. Remington was steadier now, but I felt his despair.
“Why did you come here, Tasmyn?” It was the congressman speaking, but I had the oddest sensation that the words were not his. I couldn’t hear a corresponding echo in his mind; it was almost as thought he was a ventriloquist’s dummy.
“I told you. I have information about Nick Massler. I wanted to hear your. . take on it.”
“Tell me.”
I looked around cautiously, feeling a prickle on my skin, as thought someone else were near.
“I. . .Nick Massler.” I took another deep breath. “He didn’t kill Helene Gamble. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
A strangled laugh came from the man on the edge. “Of course I knew it. Nick has many faults—I can probably name every one—but murder is not one of them.”
I swallowed hard and shifted on the wooden bench. “So you admit it? You murdered Helene? Or arranged for it to be done?”
Remington gurgled and put his hands to his head. The swirl of confusion in his mind became louder and more insistent.
“No!” he screamed at last. “No. I didn’t know anything about the girl or the murder. No. . .” He choked on a sob, and turned his head just enough that I could see the tears running down his face.
His body convulsed, and once again he reminded me of a puppet, this time one whose strings had been cut. He teetered closer to the edge, and without thinking about it, I darted to the edge of the roof and grabbed at him.
I caught hold of his jacket and pulled. Remington tumbled toward me, and we landed in an undignified heap on the gravel floor of his roof garden.
Scrambling to get out from under him, I held tight to his arm, kneeling at his side. “Mr. Remington, please. Don’t move. Stay right here, please.”
“Giving orders now, Tasmyn?”
I spun on my knees, wincing at the sharp pain. Six feet away from us stood Emma, her face expressionless.
“Emma! What are you doing here? Help me, please. The congressman was about to jump.”
She raised one side of her lips. “He was supposed to jump. Do you know how hard it was for me to get him to the edge in the first place? He’s got a very strong mind and a healthy sense of self-preservation. I might have to just toss him over.” She shook her head in regret. “Loses the integrity of a real suicide when the body is tossed. But I can handle that later.”
Heart pounding, I rose to my feet. “What are you talking about, Emma?”
She leaned against one of the raised flowerbeds, smiling at me. I tried to probe her mind, concentrate on her feelings, but all I picked up was the benevolent fondness she’d always emanated toward me. No animosity. But there was a very focused concentration of power streaming from her mind.
Emma flicked her glance to Remington. “Congressman, get up and move over to this bench.”
With jerky movements, he stood and walked to the bench, his legs dragging as though reluctant. With dawning dread, I realized he was struggling against Emma’s manipulation. He sank onto the bench, his face contorted with the frustrated effort.
“That’s better.” Emma sauntered over and sat next to him still smiling at me. “Tasmyn I assume this is the point in the story where I share all the details of my dastardly plan while you figure out how to stop me.”
“Why, Emma? Who are you working for?”
She laughed. “Not Nick Massler, if that’s what you’re thinking. No, poor Nick, always the victim of circumstance. Will it make you feel better if I tell you he had nothing to do with Helene’s murder?”
I didn’t answer, and Emma shook her head. “The good congressman here didn’t know anything about it, either, but his guilt over Alyse made him an easy target. Not a leap to make you think he’d set up his buddy for a second time.”
“Was it you?” I couldn’t imagine it—couldn’t fathom Emma slaughtering poor Helene—but apparently I’d been way off base this entire time,
She met my eyes squarely. “I wasn’t in the room. My DNA isn’t there. But weak minds are incredibly powerful weapons.”
“Who did you use?”
Emma waved it away, a detail that didn’t matter. “No one you know. He’s out of the picture, so to speak.”
On the bench, Congressman Remington grunted and moved one hand in Emma�
�s direction.
“Ah-ah-ah.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and his arm flopped back to his side. “Well, Tasmyn, time’s up. John here has a date with the sidewalk, but you’re the one who’s going to take the fall.”
My heart pounding, I edged toward the steps. “You can’t manipulate me, Emma. I know how to block you.”
“You can try. And yes, you’ve been harder than the others, but I’ve gotten a few suggestions in now and then. Things you were predisposed to believe anyway. But I don’t need to manipulate you today. It’s going to be sad, especially for your boyfriend. Because you’re in the middle of a love triangle with Nick Massler and Congressman Remington. He’s going to kill you in—what do they call it? a fit of passion? And then the guilt will make him jump.”
“And you think Nick is going to back this up?” The world was spinning, but my voice sounded oddly strong.
“The Nick angle is being handled right now. You don’t have to worry about him.” Emma stood. “Tasmyn, I know about what happened with you and Nell Massler, so I’m sure you think someone is going to come blazing in to rescue you. But I’m not crazy, and I’m not acting alone. This is far bigger plan that even I understand. You’re just a little part of it, a tiny piece. What happens to you doesn’t matter.”
I raised one eyebrow. “That’s where you’re so wrong, Emma. And you might know what happened with Nell, but that was a long time ago. I’ve learned a trick or two since then.”
Without moving, I opened the floodgates on the surge of emotions that were just below the surface. The power poured into me, and I tingled from head to toe. I moved one finger—just the smallest gesture—and a gust of wind nearly knocked Emma off her feet.
She grabbed for the bench, but before she could recover, I focused on the ground around her. A ring of flames burst up as she screamed.
I was oddly detached, watching her dance within the fire. Remington leaped off the bench and ran toward me.
“We’ve got to get out of here, get downstairs, call for help--” He was babbling, grabbing me by the shoulders. I shook him off and cocked my head toward the steps.
“Get down there. Here.” I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and tossed it to him. “There’s a Cathryn Whitmore in my contacts. Call her, tell her we need help here. Do it now. Go.” Even as I kept up the fire around Emma, I gave the congressman a mental push that had him stumbling onto the landing and down the stairs.
As he disappeared, I turned my full attention back to Emma, who was glaring at me even as she hugged herself to keep out of the fire. I felt the power from her mind, trying to reach mine, but with a laugh, I batted it away.
“Emma, you have no idea what you’re dealing with.” I lowered the fire just enough that she could hear me without giving her room to move. “There’s no way you can win now. John’s calling for backup, but truthfully, I don’t need anyone else. I can take care of myself. . .” I shot a flame closer to her, threatening her face. “And I can take care of you, too.”
The power was bubbling now, set free for the first time in months. It was intoxicating, coloring everything around me. I could end this all now, get rid of Emma once and for all. No loose ends.
And as quickly as the thought ran through my head, I heard something else. A quiet but firm voice, full of love and understanding even as it stilled my hand.
This is the choice.
I almost thought it was Nell, and I glanced around. But it wasn’t. . .not really. It reminded me of Marly, but again, not quite.
I was tingling again, but this time the wave that engulfed me was so purely love that tears filled my eyes. Impressions flitted across my mind; I saw Zoe, Aline, Caroline Brooks.
I pulled the power back, and it was as effortless to rein it in as it had been to release it. As the fire lowered into a smolder ring, I called into the earth, into the potential of those tiny seeds. Vines sprang up and tangled around Emma’s arms and legs.
She struggled, but the plants didn’t yield. The magicks were strong and positive.
“Emma, I don’t want to hurt you, but if you keep trying to get into my mind, I’ll knock you out.”
“I’ll handle that for you, Tasmyn.”
Ben Ryan stepped from the other side of the garden. Emma immediately stopped moving, as her eyes trailed the man approaching us.
“Ben.” She breathed his name, half in relief and half in trepidation. “She could do things. I didn’t know.”
He stood next to her, not speaking. For several beats, none of us moved. And then Ben flicked his hand in Emma’s direction. She sagged, her head drooping. Only the vines kept her from hitting the ground. Instead, she hung there, a grotesque puppet, eyes wide and staring.
“What did you do?” My breath was gone, and the peace I’d known vanished into terror.
“I knocked her out, just as you suggested.” Ben smiled, but there was no joy, nothing but pure, chilling evil.
“Ben, how. . .?” My voice trailed into silence.
“Tasmyn, let’s not waste time. You’re not in the minor leagues any more. I’m not a little girl playing with powers or a crazy woman obsessed with you.”
I couldn’t look away from him. “You forgot the crazy minister who wanted to drown the sin out of me.”
“Ah.” Ben perched on the edge of the highest raised bed. “No, I didn’t forget. That was a different ballgame. You never gave that little episode its proper importance in your life. But we won’t go into that now.”
“Whatever this is, whatever you’ve done, it’s over. John’s calling for help, and I think you can see I’m more than capable of defending myself.”
“Of course you are. I’m not fighting you. And no one is coming, at least not right now. We’re going to chat.”
“I don’t want to talk with you. I want to leave.”
“Sorry, not up for debate. This is your moment, Tasmyn. Your time to make a decision.”
I cast one more longing glance toward the steps. I thought I might make it there without Ben catching me, but after what he’d done to Emma, I didn’t think him catching me was my biggest problem.
“What decision?”
“Which way are you going to go? What will you choose?”
“You’re a little late. I settled that question last year after I almost killed Amber.”
“That wasn’t a choice. That was desperation. You were afraid.”
“Yes, I was. I was terrified. And it let me see clearly.”
“A decision made in fear is no true choice.”
I snorted. “And you’re here in what capacity? Are you a witch? What’s your angle? Are you the one holding Emma’s strings?’ I winced as I saw her still lifeless body.
Ben tilted his head as though in acknowledgement of his accomplishments. “I made some suggestions. I recruited Emma. Set things in motion. But no, I’m not a witch. I’m just an interested party, let’s say.”
I couldn’t get a handle on his mind. As always, it was whirl of confusion, with images and words that didn’t make sense.
“This isn’t going to be a tough one, Ben. I choose good. I choose light. Decision made. Discussion over.”
“Do you really?” Ben raised a hand, and Emma was upright, gasping, eyes wide as she pulled against her vine bindings.
“Ben--” she moaned. “What did you do?”
“Shh.” Ben raised a finger to his lips and Emma’s mouth snapped shut.
“What are you doing?” I cried, the horror of her mind and her face pouring over me.
“I told you. Decision time. Make the choice. Fight me, embrace that power, and Emma just might walk out of here. Otherwise she goes back to the etherland.”
“Tasmyn! Don’t let him hurt me—please--” Her anguish sliced me, and I didn’t know what to do.
I grasped for that peace I’d felt, that assurance. It was lost in the confusion of Ben’s mind.
“It’s time. Just you and me, Tasmyn. Choose.”
I opened my mouth, not sure wha
t words would emerge. And then it was there again. The love, the peace, the light. My parents. My grandmother. Anne, Amber, Marly, Luke, Lela. The Brookes, even Rafe. And Michael. His steady shining belief and faith warmed every part of my body and soul.
“I’m sorry, Emma. I choose the good.”
Ben’s face twisted, contorted into the most terrifying mask of rage I’d ever seen. Emma screamed, her body thrashing. A wall of fire shot up, and the heat forced me backward. I used my own power to summon water from the sources at the edge of the roof, but by the time its gushing had extinguished the flames, there was almost nothing left of the garden.
Ben and Emma were gone.
“Gone?” Aline sat back in her chair, her mouth slightly agape. “Just. . .gone?”
I nodded. “I went right downstairs. . .it was pandemonium in the offices. The congressman had sounded the alarm, but no one remembered seeing Emma go up. By the time he convinced them that I was in danger, the door to the steps was locked, and no one could find the key.”
“Ben?”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure.” I was quiet for a moment. “But they didn’t find any trace of either of them up there.”
“What do you think. . .” Aline hesitated. “What was Ben? Who was he?”
I shrugged. “I’ve thought and thought. He knew things. Stuff Emma couldn’t have fed him.” I shot Aline an apologetic smile. “I was kind of hoping you could tell me who he was.”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t really have any answers for you. I guess I’ll fall back on my old standby: how do you feel about everything?”
I considered. “I feel. . .good. I mean, overall, I do. I think I helped here. Congressman Remington and Nick Massler are still alive, and neither are suspects in Helene’s murder anymore. Both the congressman and I were witnesses to Emma admitting that she had arranged for her to be killed.”
Aline pursed her lips. “Definitely good, then. What about the senate race?”
“Neither of them is running. Remington is retiring after he finishes this term, and Nick told me that he’s sticking to the philanthropy. For now, at least. Too much potential scandal for both of them, I think.”
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