Gifted Connections 04

by S M Olivier

  I gave him a look of confusion. “Ward Cleaver?”

  Lincoln laughed. “Leave it to Beaver. Old sitcom made in the late fifties early sixties,” he said expectantly.

  I shook my head. “Nope, not a clue. My dad didn’t watch much television, and my stepmother and her mom like soap operas, the trashy reality shows− not the good ones− and other shows I couldn’t get into.”

  “Now, is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” Perry asked quietly as the wife was yelling up at her husband. They were both well distracted.

  “He’s a serial killer,” Lincoln replied. “Upstairs is a woman in her early twenties tied up to a table. She looks like−” he looked over at me hesitantly. I nodded at him to continue and allowed him to put his arms around my shoulders. “He sexually violated her, and we think he was going to kill her tonight. Before you came, he was pulling out power equipment.”

  “Inside his office, he has a bookshelf,” I added. “If you pull down the red book with gold lettering, the wall slides back. He’s been stalking this girl for some time. In his locked drawer… in his office,” I swallowed past the lump that formed in my throat, remembering those photos, “…there's an album of women he killed.”

  “Redheads?” the man asked quietly.

  “Yes, how did you know?” Lincoln asked in surprise.

  “I see…spirits, ghost…you know, things that don’t exist anymore. I see them from time to time. However, I have never seen them as clear as I see you guys. Are those kids on the swings with you?” He asked. “And what exactly are you?”

  I found myself absurdly laughing. “Gifted, like you,” I explained. “My youngest brother led us here, and we followed.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked,” he muttered. “I liked it better when I thought I was the only…freak out there. You mean to tell me there are others out there like me?”

  “Maybe not just like you,” Lincoln answered with a smirk. “But you are definitely not the only freak out there.”

  Another cop car pulled up, followed by an ambulance. “Back here,” Perry called out to his back up.

  “Get out of here,” Hale yelled. “You are trespassing. You need to leave now.”

  “What’s going on Perry?” Two officers came up beside Perry.

  “I’m sorry sir, we can not do that,” Perry insisted. “I saw a rock being launched out the window. If you are here and you claim to be alone, who threw the rock?” Then he turned to the other officers. “Neighbor called in a possible break-in. The homeowner seemed reluctant to allow me to search the premises. Then a rock was launched inside the window although he claims he’s the only one here.”

  “It came from your direction,” Hale cursed.

  Perry snorted. “But we were the only ones here, sir. I didn’t do it, and you didn’t do it. Maybe someone else is here.” He then turned to look at the other two officers. “We should search the premises.”

  “I saw it,” the man from next door chimed in. “The rock shattered that window.”

  “Shut the hell up,” Hale screamed at his neighbor. “Just keep your damn dog on your side of the fence.”

  Note to self, always be kind to my neighbors when or if I lived in a neighborhood.

  The dog walker really had it out for his neighbor. There was no way he saw the rock come from above since I launched it from the ground.

  “He poisoned my dog,” the man yelled back.

  I grimaced. If the man’s dog had wandered into his yard, poisoning it was a bit excessive.

  “Hale, just let them have a look,” the wife said in irritation.

  “No,” Hale said in a voice full of panic as she tried to lunge back into the garage once more, even if the door was now about five feet from the bottom of the sill. “This is my sanctuary, and no one’s defiling it.”

  “Ma’am, is there another way into the apartment?” Perry enquired congenially.

  “Yes,” she said in exasperation as she walked over to the door to the bottom half of the garage.

  “Hannah, no!” Hale yelled.

  One of the officers laughed. “I’m going to get the fire department out here with a ladder. What happened there by the way?”

  “I don’t know,” Perry shrugged. “I was just talking to the homeowner, and the stairs gave way. Maybe the structural support gave in.”

  “Bullshit,” Hale cried out. “You did something! Hannah, call our lawyers! You will not let them in here, you bitch!”

  Hannah seemed slightly taken aback for a moment. “I’m sorry officers, I really don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s normally not like this. These stairs lead up to his apartment. He doesn’t like anyone up there. He writes jingles for commercials and likes to keep everything in its place. No one’s allowed up there or his office. They're like his mancaves. You know how that is.”

  “Brace yourself,” Lincoln told Perry grimly. “This is the stuff nightmares are made of. Think of something to warn your friends.”

  Perry looked over his shoulder before nodding and going up the stairs.

  “Bye-bye, bad man,” Harry said before he laid his head on my chest.

  “Bye-bye, bad man,” I repeated as I gently rocked him.

  Things had escalated quickly the moment the three officers entered the apartment above the garage. Several more squad cards have arrived. The firemen came and took Hale down, and he was immediately cuffed. Hannah was taken away because the cops didn’t believe she was unaware of her husband's activities. CPS came, woke three children from their slumber and took them away as well.

  My heart hurt when I realized those three innocent children lives were going to be forever flipped upside down because their father was a sick man. Their life was going to become a three-ring circus. Their whole lives were going to be splashed all over the news, and no matter how far they moved, they could never run far enough away.

  News vans had already pulled up and were setting up camp outside. More neighbors were hanging out in the park across the street as they tried to figure out what was going on.

  Lincoln and I had grabbed the children to let them see the man being hauled away. We thought they needed to get the closure.

  “Let’s go,” Lincoln murmured.

  “Wait,” we heard someone hiss from behind us.

  We turned to see Perry a few feet away from us. He looked nervously around, as if he didn’t want anyone seeing him talk to…thin air. Because no one else could see us. We had tried.

  “Who are you guys? Are you guys real? How did you know and how am I supposed to explain to the officers inside about a red book in a bookshelf?” Perry queried.

  “Yes, we’re real,” I laughed in surprise. “And it’s not important who we are, Officer Perry, but we’ll reach out to you soon. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and we’ll see if we can answer most of them. Tell them the wife told you she wasn’t allowed to enter the office. Tell them to search the bookcases and desk. We’ll talk later, Perry. You did a fine job tonight, Officer.”

  “Wait!” he called out again. “I would have left if you wouldn’t have told me to stay.” He looked ashamed. “She could have died. She would have,” he suddenly shook his head.

  “Where are you going?”

  Lincoln chuckled. “But you stayed, and we have two boys to put to bed.”

  “Wait,” Perry said again in shock as we entered the light of the porch. “Your Lincoln Hudgens!”

  Lincoln grinned and shrugged. “So I’ve been told. Alex, take us home.”

  “Okay, Linc,” Alex smiled up at him with an impish grin. “Night, Officer Perry.”

  Chapter 25

  “Blake Thomas,” Mr. Bates called me.

  I looked up from the couch I was sitting on. The beauty of our learning environment was the laid-back atmosphere. We weren’t confined to our tables or an assigned seat. Just as long as we were working, Mr. Bates didn’t care where we sat or who we sat next to. I was in the middle of writing a paper, and I did my best crea
tive writing in comfort and not sitting at a desk.

  “Yes, Mr. Bates?” I asked as I noticed a younger looking Asian man standing beside him.

  “You’re excused from class for the rest of the morning to go to your appointment with Dr. Wong,” Mr. Bates explained.

  I was confused. Dr. Wong was a shrink. I didn’t have an appointment with him. I stiffened and looked at Jaxson and Rachel who were sharing the couch with me. From their looks of confusion, I could see they were just as mystified as I was.

  “I don’t have an appointment with Dr. Wong,” I insisted.

  My eyes swung to the Asian man standing next to Mr. Bates. He didn’t look like a shrink. In fact, he looked like he was barely older than me. He also didn’t wear the stuffy suits I was accustomed to. Instead, he wore a simple button down shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of casual laced-up shoes.

  He smiled at me. “Did you read your email today?” he asked.

  Jaxson sighed beside me as he pointed to the laptop. I leaned over, and sure enough, it was an email to all the operatives in the program informing us that a mental wellness check would be commencing immediately, that if we wanted to remain eligible for active status, we were required to go to a quarterly checkup.

  “Flipping great,” I muttered. “I’m coming,” I griped.

  I was already cranky enough as it was this morning. I was tired from our trip out last night, and then my nightmares plagued me for the rest of the night. We had preemptively gone to Greg and Miranda’s last night to help Harry fall asleep again. Last night we were able to stop a mentally unstable woman from kidnapping her children from her ex-husband and his new wife. She didn’t plan on just taking them. She was determined that, if she couldn’t have them no one could.

  “Hey, hon,” Jaxson called out making me turn once more. He held out a coffee cup, and I grinned at him.

  “I love you,” I murmured as I took the cup from his hands.

  “Blake Thomas,” Dr. Wong stated as opened his door into his office. “Please, take a seat.”

  His office was located with all the other essential offices here.

  “Okay,” I said as I took a seat.

  I was immediately on the defensive as I sat down. It reminded me of every other therapist office I had been in. The room looked stuffy and overbearing. Complete with all his diplomas proudly displayed on the wall.

  He pulled a file out in front of him, and I had to refrain from sighing as he pulled out a legal pad as well. I knew the record was mine, and I was sure it was extensive. The legal pad was out to write notes on me, where all his judgemental words and observations would go down in writing. Just another paper to add to my file.

  “You don’t like me,” he said abruptly. “Even though we’ve never met.”

  He leaned forward and linked his hands before placing them on the desk in front of him. I was struck again by how young he looked. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. I also noticed he was slightly attractive.

  My eyes narrowed at him. I knew he was gifted. Every day I was learning about new gifts or variations of the same gift. He apparently was attuned to people in general. Particularly if he chose this line of work. “You’re an empath,” I countered back.

  “Guilty,” he admitted as he smiled and leaned back in his chair. “But so are you, among your other talents. I have to admit I’m fascinated by you, by your abilities. However, I never use my gift when I’m working. Not unless I’m asked to do so.”

  Somehow, I had a feeling he was speaking the truth.

  “Thank you,” I stated concisely as I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my own chair. “And you’re right, I don’t know you, so I can’t really form an opinion about you, right? So can we quickly get this over with so I can get back to class? I have a big paper due, along with a birthday party to plan, and I’m leaving for the weekend, so…” I urged him.

  “If it’s not me, the person, you don’t like then it must be my profession, so something about my profession has left a bad taste in your mouth,” he stated matter of factly.

  I sighed and took a sip of my coffee. “How does this have anything to do with my ‘mental health’?” I asked, making air quotes. “Look, Doc. I’m mentally capable of doing my job, so can you sign me off so I can go on my way?”

  “What happened the other day in the training simulation?” Dr. Wong asked as he leaned over to open the folder in front of him.

  I shrugged as I looked away. Anyone with his training would have seen the classic signs of trauma.

  “A blip. Does that handy-dandy folder tell you about the many missions I’ve been on that I didn’t have a momentary lapse of…judgement?” I asked defensively.

  “It does. You’ve accomplished a lot in your life already, but I’m really not that interested in what’s in your folder,” he explained. “I want you to tell me what’s not in this folder, after all, whatever’s written in black and white really doesn’t always define us as a person.”

  “Is that why your diplomas are all over your wall, Doc?” I asked him. “All that black and white scattered on the wall. And−” I cocked my head to the side. “From the looks of it, you’ve accomplished a lot in your life, too. Congrats.” I crossed my legs, braced my elbow on my knee, and put my chin in my hands. I knew I was antagonizing him.

  I really didn’t like being backed into a corner. I lashed out, and I didn’t care who was in the path of my rage. I hated being forced to talk about myself or my past. Particularly to strangers. I didn’t know Dr. Wong from Adam, but because of this new initiative they wanted us to be evaluated.

  He surveyed me for a few moments. “I don’t know who or what turned you against my profession but I can take a guess. You were institutionalized at the age of ten. They misdiagnosed you, and they didn’t believe you, but can you blame them? They didn’t and don’t understand our world

  “I’m not here to force you to talk, Blake, but I don’t feel comfortable clearing you for active status. It appeared that your connections were able to talk you out of it this time but what about the next time? Your momentary…lapse might affect your whole team next time. From what I know about you, you are a very selfless person. I know that you would carry the guilt with you forever if something were to happen to your connections or any person on your team if you were to have an anxiety attack and become a liability.”

  I barely contained my growl. “You know I can make you clear me,” I seethed. “It’s not fair to bench me because I don’t want to talk about my feelings. I’m needed out there. I’m needed in there. You just told me that my file doesn’t matter, yet you just used something that was in my file against me.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to use it against you. I was merely stating facts. I know you can use your gifts against me, Blake.” Dr. Wong gave me a soft smile. “But you won’t do that because you have integrity. You want to place the blame on me, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll know you need to talk about it before it catches up to you, or worse, to the people that love you.”

  “So what?” I asked with barely concealed irritation. “What do I have to do for you to clear me? Do I talk to you and you give me a big smiley face on my evaluation?”

  “If you talk to me then I can determine if you need to continue to come to see me, then I’ll clear you,” Dr. Wong replied. “As long as I know you’re working on youself, I can clear you sooner than later.”

  I stood up. “You’re kidding me right?” I clenched my fist. “Even if I start talking now, there’s no guarantee that I can even go on the next mission when it comes up! This is ridiculous. You do realize we are at war with Horatio, and you’re going to need me when he finally does come or when we launch our own attack.”

  “We do need you, Blake, but we need a healthy you. If you continue to stuff down all of your feelings or ignore them, eventually it will catch up to you.” Dr. Wong seemed unfazed by my outburst.

  “Well, Doc, you can give me a frowny face on my pape
r. I don’t know you, and I’m not ready to hold hands and sing Kumbaya yet. Bench me,” I stormed towards the door.

  “Blake,” he called to my retreating back. “Do realize you’re not only hurting yourself by doing this? It’s going to hurt your team. Mainly your connections. Are you ready to watch them go out into the field without you? And you know as much as I do, that together, you’re stronger. If they are cleared, they will retain their active status, and we will use them for our mission.”

  “Don’t try to pin this on me,” I clenched my teeth, knowing he was right. “This is all on you because you are on some power trip. If anything happens to my men, this is all on you!” I slammed the door on the way out.

  “Blake?” Will asked in confusion as he exited his office. “What’s wrong?”

  “You know very well what’s wrong,” I bit out. “I’m getting benched because I’m not ready to pour my heart out to some douchebag I just met.”

  I stormed past him.

  “Blake,” he called. “It’s not like that and you−”

  I pretended not to hear him as I left the room.

  I dropped my bag off at the room and put on a black tank top, black shorts, and tennis shoes. I needed to get rid of some of this anger or I was going to bring this whole place down. I angrily snatched my hair back into a ponytail and left my room with a slam of the door.

  I knew training room B was empty at this time of day, which was perfect since they had the indoor track in it. I passed a few people on the way there, but I averted my gaze from them. I didn’t want to talk to anyone and was thankful when I finally reached the training room. I climbed the steps to the track and did a quick warm-up of jump and jacks before I stretched.

  I put in my wireless headphones and put on my running playlist. When I finally took off for my run, Believer by Imagine Dragons filled my ears. I set off at a punishing speed. After five minutes of running, I still hadn’t expelled any of my anger. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this angry.