“So how will this work?” I turned back to look at the table as Emma spoke again. “What are our roles?”
“Emma, since you are full time here at Carruthers, you’ll be going into Remington’s office under cover, so to speak. We’ve gotten you an administrative job there, thanks to some well-placed friends. You’ll keep your eyes open, but mainly you’re there to support Tasmyn.”
“Oh, and just what is my cover? How am I supposed to justify dropping into his office with any regularity? Am I supposed to be a campaign groupie or something more?” I knew my sarcasm was over the top, but I was tense, at the limit of what I could bear.
“You’re not totally off base. You’re going to be a volunteer. A lowly worker, and your primary job will be to be noticed by no one.”
I leaned back against the windows and smirked at Cathryn. “I can handle that.”
“And then when Tas comes in, she can listen to their minds, try to find out if Remington’s guilty.” Emma nodded. “I get it.”
“Exactly. And you, Emma, will be there as her backup. You’ll feed her any info she needs, and use your powers to nudge people into talking—and thinking—about Helene Gamble and her murder.”
I sat down again, propping up my head with one arm. “What if we don’t find anything? What if it turns out that Nick killed this girl after all, and he’s just trying to deflect the blame?”
“Then we report to the Masslers that we found no evidence implicating John Remington, and we let the police move forward with their investigation as they see fit.” She paused for a beat, as though waiting for me to protest. “Well? Any other questions?”
Zoe raised her hand. “What’s my job in this? Clearly you don’t need me on the scene.”
“No, we don’t. I brought you in, Zoe, to be Tasmyn’s sounding board, her safe place. If this assignment becomes too much, and she is at risk for exposing us, you must report that. Tasmyn, you’ll be conferring weekly with Zoe, so she can monitor your state of mind.” Cathryn was watching me closely, as though afraid I might explode at any moment.
I only nodded. “I take it Zoe will be replacing Aline, since I won’t be able to share any of this?”
“Exactly.” Cathryn didn’t need to elaborate; we understood each other perfectly. She didn’t trust me, and the feeling was mutual. She looked away from me.
“All right then. Zoe and Emma, I’ll talk to you later about the specifics of your work. I’d like to speak to Tasmyn alone for a minute. Emma, could you leave the perimeter in place until we finish?”
Emma nodded, shot me an apologetic smile and followed Zoe out the door. After it closed behind them, Cathryn leaned over and flipped the photo of Helene’s body back over.
“Tasmyn, I wanted to point out something to you that hasn’t been lost on either me or on Harley.” She traced her finger over Helene’s neck. “See this? Look at the cuts on her neck.”
I hadn’t examined the picture that closely before; I couldn’t get beyond her face. But now I followed Cathryn’s finger, and a chill ran down my spine. Before I could stop it, my hand raised to my own neck, touching the scars still there.
“Yes.” Cathryn was nearly whispering. “They are nearly identical to yours. Which concerns us...makes us think that perhaps there is more to this than even the Masslers realize.”
“Not Nell.” It wasn’t a question, because I had been to see her only the previous week. She remained unresponsive, unchanged. And even when she had been able to visit in my dreams—or during that last terrifying day with Marica—she had not been able to manipulate anything physically. The word non-corporeal sprang to my mind.
“No, that isn’t a concern. I know you’ve been visiting her, but we also checked on her this week. She hasn’t moved.” Cathryn stared down at the picture and then abruptly turned it back over. “But Nell’s mother is not comatose or vegetative. Alyse is very much awake and aware.”
“But she’s still in the hospital?” I had never met Alyse Massler, but I had heard stories.
“Yes. But...” Cathryn shrugged. “So was Nell on the day Marica Lacusta went crazy and claimed that Nell had been in her house. We’re not saying that Alyse definitely had anything to do with Helene’s murder, but it was certainly an interesting coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe in coincidence. Not since I moved to Florida.”
Keeping something from Michael was an uncomfortable proposition, and not something I wanted to do. But at the same time, I respected the need for discretion Cathryn had stressed to us. I knew Michael would never repeat anything I shared with him, but I was also aware that there were others like me out in the world who might hear things in his mind without his knowledge.
So I told him everything I could without breaking Cathryn’s confidence.
“I’ve been given a top-secret assignment.” We sat on the ground in the least crowded part of the campus green, enjoying what was left of the afternoon sun. Late autumn was my favorite season in Florida, and I closed my eyes, savoring the cool breeze that wafted over my face.
“Oh, really?” Michael was leaning back, one arm hooked around my neck as I lay my head against his shoulder.
“Yup. I can’t say anything to you about it, not specifically, but I can tell you that I’m going to be working three days a week for a little while. That’s my cover.”
He nuzzled my neck. “Nothing dangerous, right?”
I shook my head. “No, just information.” I wished I could tell him that I would be, in essence, working for Nick Massler, but that was definitely on the do-not-discuss list.
“Okay. I promise I won’t ask anything, as long as you promise to keep safe.” He moved his fingers to my chin and gently nudged it in his direction, covering my lips. I smiled against his kiss and murmured my agreement.
And so began my new double life. My cover story was as close to reality as possible, so I remained a student at Perriman, volunteering for John Remington’s fledgling senate campaign. Cathryn explained everything to me on the first day of work as she drove me to Carruthers, where we would pick up the car I’d be using for the duration of the assignment. Apparently the Mustang didn’t fit the image they wanted for me.
“It just so happens that Remington put out a call for volunteers last month. It came through the alumni office, since Remington’s campaign manager is a graduate of Perriman. You saw the flier and decided to try it.”
“Don’t you think they might be suspicious if they investigate me and find out I was Nick Massler’s daughter’s intended murder victim?” I asked, trying to keep the skepticism from my voice.
Cathryn’s responding laughter didn’t contain a hint of humor. “Tasmyn, don’t you know? There is no mention of your name anywhere in Nell’s files. There’s not even a description of what happened, just that she had a mental break and was committed to a psychiatric facility. No crime, no record.”
“The magic of King,” I muttered, and shook my head. “Does it matter that I know nothing about politics and even less than that about John Remington?”
“Don’t worry,” Cathryn said. “That’s one of the reasons Emma is on this case. When you’re at the campaign office, if you’re asked any questions that you can’t answer, Emma will send you the info. Just be listening for her. Don’t panic.”
The car I was given at Harper Creek was a non-descript white compact. I glanced over at Cathryn and smirked. “I think I’d rather have your car.”
“Anyone who could afford my car wouldn’t work for John Remington,” she answered, laughing. “He’s the champion of the underprivileged. Remember, you’re a poor college student.”
The Remington campaign center was programmed into the dashboard GPS. I followed the directions carefully, and it only took about twenty minutes before I pulled up to a tall stone building in the middle of the county seat. John ran his campaign from a storefront located on the ground floor of the law firm he had helped to establish. I parked the car at the
curb and climbed out slowly, scanning the vicinity with my ears and my mind.
The inside of the headquarters was nothing as I had pictured. I had a vague sense of these kinds of places from movies, and I had expected noise, bustling workers wearing promotional hats and stacks of posters on every flat surface.
Instead, the room was quiet. There were a few desks, manned mostly by people on computers or telephones. I spotted Emma off in a corner, but she didn’t acknowledge me aloud. Instead I heard her broadcasting a greeting into my head.
So glad you’re here. This place is dull as death.
I smothered a grin and caught the eye of the woman sitting at the desk closest to me. She looked up at me, distracted, and then smiled.
“Hello, welcome to Remington for Senate Headquarters! What can I do for you?”
I pasted on a matching smile. “I’m here to volunteer. I was sent by my college. They said you needed help?”
“Oh, Perriman? Sure, sure. Ben organized that. What’s your name?”
“Tasmyn Vaughan.” I watched her scan a list, and I crept into her head. More people to do work that isn’t even invented yet. God, Ben makes me crazy...what was her name. . oh, here.
“Okay, so cool. You’re on the list, good to go. So, come on in, I’ll show you around.” She swept a hand over the room. “Such as it is. We’re still almost a year out from election day, you know, so it’s pretty low key. Mostly doing demographic sweeps, some initial work for the primary election—not that it’s a big deal, John’s going to be uncontested except by the fringe element—but I hope you like to type and be on the computer a lot.”
“That’s fine. I can do that. I just, you know--” I flipped over a hand in my best typical college girl imitation—“wanted to get involved. Be part of the process.”
The other woman nodded, though I could hear her mental eye rolling. “Yeah, we hear that a lot. Oh, by the way, my name’s Chelle Hoffman. I’m kind of the head of the admins. Unofficially. I keep things rolling when John and Ben aren’t around.”
Ben’s the campaign manager, Emma supplied. Ben Ryan. Works in the law firm with Remington.
“I guess John and Ben are pretty busy, with the law office and all.” I had to sound as though I had some kind of clue.
“Oh, all the time. John is in DC a lot of the time, of course, and Ben keeps things running at the firm and here. He’s John’s right hand.” The note of irony that crept into Chelle’s voice was further borne out by her derisive thoughts. Clearly she was not a fan of Ben.
She walked me around the room, introducing me to the three other people sitting there. When we got to Emma, Chelle patted her shoulder.
“Emma’s our newest hire. We don’t keep many employees here on a permanent basis, but she came so highly recommended, and she’s done a great job so far. She organized our donor system, so I’m pretty much her biggest fan.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma,” I smiled.
“Hey, you, too. Let me know if you need any help.” I bit my lip to keep from giggling at the hilarious side conversation Emma was playing in her head.
“So grab a chair, and let me see what I can give you. We’ve got a mailing going out the beginning of next week. You can stuff some envelopes.”
I sat down at a table and Chelle dropped a stack of paper next to a pile of envelopes. She gave me an encouraging smile. “Go to town. Tri fold for the fliers, stuff and seal. Don’t get a paper cut, we don’t have any medical coverage.” Cracking up at her own joke, she returned to her own desk and computer.
I picked up a flier and began folding. So far, this was looking like my most boring assignment yet.
My first few days at Remington campaign central were quiet. The same people were there, doing the same things. I listened to their thoughts, and it made me want to sleep. Nobody thought about Helene Gamble or even Nick Massler. Heck, most of them didn’t even think about John Remington.
I had been there a week, volunteering Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, when Ben Ryan visited the first time. He blew through the glass front door like a hurricane, wild and dynamic. His mind was loud, and I nearly winced as he approached me.
“Hey, everyone, good to see you all working so hard! John’s going to be very pleased. I can tell you I am. Chelle here keeps me posted on everything you’re doing. You guys are gangbusters!” He beamed at us as though he expected a standing ovation. Instead, we all sat, looking at him, waiting for the next wave of energy.
He was tall, and his dark hair was buzzed short and tinged with gray. His gray suit was clearly a superior cut; he wore it well, and he knew it. There was something about his eyes that made me uneasy. The confused noise in his mind made it nearly impossible to get a good read on his thoughts.
“Chelle, you want to introduce me around? Let me meet the team?” Chelle stepped forward, her dislike hidden neatly behind a pleasant expression even as her inner monologue churned.
I watched her move through the room, leading Ben. They stopped at each desk and Ben made pleasant conversation with each person. I kept a surreptitiously close eye on them, trying to zero in on Ben’s thoughts. I picked up an image here and there, a few random opinions on the people he was meeting, but nothing concrete.
There were a few more volunteers there that day, and I was the last chair at the table. Chelle smiled tightly.
“Ben, this is Tasmyn. She’s a volunteer from your alma mater. Tas, Ben Ryan. You’ve heard enough about him, haven’t you?”
I glanced up, smiling automatically, and extended my hand. Ben hesitated only a fraction of a second before he gripped it.
“Ah, Perriman, huh? How do you like it? Great school, right? What are you, a junior?”
“Freshman, actually,” I answered, attempting to focus on his mind while our hands were still touching. It sometimes helped to have that contact, but not in this case.
“Ah, great, so you have your whole time there ahead of you! Awesome. And you’re into politics, huh? Going to help us take John to the big S?”
It took me a minute to follow his words, preoccupied as I was with his thoughts. “Oh, the Senate, yes. I just thought it would be a good way to get my feet wet, maybe get involved a little. Thanks for the opportunity.”
“Hey, no, thank you—you’re the one driving out here and giving up your free time. Not much fun right now, I understand, a lot of busy work, but you make sure you come back next year, when we’re in the thick of it. This place’ll be hopping, won’t it, Chelle?”
Startled from her own distraction, Chelle jumped a little. “Oh, yeah, totally. Crazy.”
“Okay, well, nice to meet you, and if there’s anything we can do to make things easier, any kind of referral or anything you need, you just say the word.” He moved on, leaving me behind and going into the small office in the back. He shut the door behind him without another word to Chelle or me.
She blew out a breath and ran a hand through her short blonde hair. “So that was Ben. Don’t worry, he doesn’t come down much. And he doesn’t stay long. I don’t know what John sees in him...” She let her voice trail off, remembering she was speaking to me. “Sorry. He just rubs me the wrong way sometimes. He’s good at his job, and that’s why John keeps him around.”
I smiled in acknowledgement of both her words and what I could hear behind them, even without any special abilities. “When is John coming back from DC? Does he come in often?” It seemed to me that being here was a waste of my time until the congressman was physically in the building. No one in the campaign office had anything to do with committing a murder, I was almost positive. I’d spent over a week scanning them all, and even when Emma introduced the idea of Helene Gamble into their minds, there was no reaction at all.
“Any day now. The session is over, and he was just tying up some loose ends.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” I said.
Chelle winked at me. “You’ll like him. He’s nothing like Ben.”
As Chelle walked away, I ca
st a glance over to Emma, wondering what she thought of Ben Ryan. Her face was inscrutable, and nothing was coming from her mind.
John Remington did in fact appear at campaign headquarters the following week. Unlike Ben Ryan, he slipped in unobtrusively, arriving in the midst of one of our rare busy afternoons. We were gearing up for a big phone canvassing, and all the volunteers were on hand.
I heard the door open, but engrossed in my list of telephone numbers, I didn’t even look up until I heard one of the admins exclaim in surprise.
“Congressman Remington! Oh my gosh!”
Everyone turned at once, and the man in the doorway laughed.
“I always did know how to halt all conversation in the room! Good to see you, everyone.”
Chelle bustled forward. “John! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in today?”
He chuckled and folded her into a hug. “I like to keep you guessing, you know that! Nah, actually I didn’t know I was until I got up this morning, and then I thought, why not? Mariana was coming into town to have her hair done, so I dropped her off and just stopped by.”
I watched the two of them curiously. John Remington was nothing like I had expected. He had graying dark blonde hair, warm brown eyes and an easy manner. His aura was one of ease and warmth, and I could hear his mind with relative ease.
Quiet here now, look at them all working! More people to meet. Chelle keeps things running here, she’s a gem.
Just as she had with Ben, Chelle led Congressman Remington through the room. All of the hired workers except Emma and some of the volunteers knew him already, so there was a good deal of catching up, asking about spouses and children and other news. By the time he made it to my group working at the central table, I could tell he was wearing down. Instead of greeting us individually, he smiled and gave us a group wave.
“How are y’all doing? I appreciate your hard work. Chelle tells me some of you are here from the college?” He scanned our faces expectantly.
A few of us raised our hands. Cathryn had recruited a couple of other volunteers from Perriman so that I didn’t stand out as the only one there.
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