by Kylie Brant
Chapter 2
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The plane's landing was a little better than its takeoff, but only barely. Jaida had, however, managed to control her stomach's inclination to rebel. Trey eyed her white face and unsteady composure as they disembarked and headed toward the LAX luggage-claim area.
"You never did eat anything," he observed. "Are you sure you're not hungry?" She looked as though she could collapse at any minute. And though he was impatient at the thought of further delay, he didn't want to deal with a fainting female, either. Especially this female.
"Make a note, Garrison," Jaida muttered. Her eyes met his. "The only places on the face of this earth that I'm not hungry are airports and planes."
Trey dismissed the unnecessary information. Her obvious discomfort on the plane almost made up for the times today that she had really annoyed him. But his use for her would soon be over. Then she'd be free to choose any mode of transportation she wished to return to Arkansas.
Their rapid pace through the airport was halted by the crowd gathered around the luggage belt. Jaida eyed the mob of people and swallowed. "I'll wait back here," she murmured to Trey, and he nodded.
Now that he was so close to home, to Lauren, impatience was eating at him. From his brief conversation with Mac earlier he'd learned that his sister was still confined to bed. In light of the damage that damn drug had done to her system, she was lucky to have been sent home so soon. She'd lain in a coma for the first two days, and when she'd awakened he'd been faced with telling her of Benjy's kidnapping.
He still wasn't convinced that her wild idea to consult Jaida West wasn't the result of remnants of that drug in her bloodstream. He'd tried to gently dissuade her from the idea, and then, confronted by her stubbornness, had been less than gentle. His efforts hadn't altered the outcome in their contest of wills. He'd spent years in military intelligence, had faced down terrorists bent on destroying entire cities. But he'd never mastered the art of denying Lauren something she wanted.
Trey picked out their baggage and strode over to Jaida. There was something almost forlorn about the picture she made, sitting well away from any other people, her purse clutched on her lap. He pushed away the unwilling tinge of sympathy. He should reserve the feeling for the gullible people she preyed on.
"Let's go," he said brusquely.
She rose. "I'll carry my suitcase."
He shot her an impatient look. "Don't be ridiculous."
Her chin jutted mulishly. Her face was finally beginning to regain its former color. "I can pull my own weight."
When her hand reached for the bag, he felt that unfamiliar electricity again as their fingers barely touched. He watched her snatch her hand away, as she had earlier that day. "I'll get it," he said tersely. "From the looks of you, just not fainting will be enough of a chore."
His long legs ate up the distance to the parking lot, leaving Jaida to trail after him. The thought came to him then that if he ever needed to curb this woman's unfortunate stubborn streak, all he had to do was touch her. That seemed to have the effect of scaring her off. For some reason, the knowledge was inexplicably annoying.
* * *
The drive to Lauren's helped restore Jaida's equilibrium. And when they turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway
, she was completely enchanted. She rolled her window down and inclined her head to catch the balmy ocean breeze.
Trey cast her a glance. For once she'd fallen silent. She'd bombarded him with questions about his nephew and his sister, none of which he'd had the slightest intention of answering. Now she seemed content to feel the wind in her face. Her eyes were closed and a half smile tilted her lips. A strand of her pale-blond hair drifted across her shapely lips, and he was disconcerted by the impulse to brush it away for her.
His fingers tightened on the wheel, and he returned his gaze to his driving. Just another hour or two, he promised himself grimly. And then he'd send this woman back to the Arkansas hills where he'd found her.
Jaida opened her eyes when she felt the car slow down. They were pulling up to an ornate wrought-iron fence. Trey stopped the car and got out. Approaching the gate, he flipped open a box mounted on the side of one of the concrete pillars and punched in several numbers. Red lights winked from the box, and he punched in another series of numbers. He repeated the process once more before the gates swung open. He closed the lid of the box and got back into the car.
"'Open sesame' would be a lot easier," she quipped. After they drove through the opening, Jaida turned in her seat to observe the gates closing silently behind them. "Do you install operations like that?"
Trey's gaze never moved from the private drive he was maneuvering. "We installed that one, yes."
"Pretty fancy. But I can't imagine people wanting to live this way. It would make me feel like a prisoner, like I was the one locked in."
"It usually works the other way," he responded dryly. "With the owners of the property feeling more secure."
Jaida's eyes widened when she saw the large beachfront home they were approaching. A thought struck her then and she winced. "This isn't … I mean, you don't live here, do you?"
The private drive forked then, and Trey turned away from the house. She didn't sound impressed, he reflected. Her tone was almost horrified. "No, I don't live here. Why does the thought of that bother you?"
Jaida was craning her neck to get a better look at their destination. "I just don't like the thought of you inside here, I guess," she replied absently. "You're already locked up too tightly as it is."
He glanced at her sharply. But her attention was reserved for the guest house they were approaching.
"Oh, this view is marvelous! And this little house is cute, isn't it?"
"Lauren's employer owns the property. This is where Lauren and Benjy live."
"Trey…" Jaida hesitated as the ordeal ahead of her loomed abruptly. She shot him a tentative look. Then, shoring up her nerve, she continued, knowing it had to be said, "You've mentioned that your sister isn't very strong right now. Is she going to be strong enough to hear the truth?"
His eyes met hers then, and they were so cold she could feel an icy shiver skate down her spine, despite the balmy California air.
"And what truth might that be?"
"Sometimes what I 'see' isn't what people want to hear. Is your sister going to be able to accept it if I have to tell her that Benjy—" Her voice caught, before she forced herself to go on. "That he may not be … alive?"
Pure, deadly rage crossed his countenance. In the next instant he deliberately blanked his expression again. She didn't know which made her more wary—his first evidence of fiery emotion or his iron control over it. The command he spoke next was cloaked in velvet.
"Under no circumstances … will you tell her that."
"False hope is cruel, Trey."
Her words so accurately described his feeling about her presence here that he could feel his jaw clench. "At least we agree on something. But you aren't getting out of this car before promising me that you won't say anything to upset her."
Their gazes clashed, battling silently. Finally, she nodded. She knew from experience that just being the bearer of such bad news would be excruciating. She didn't want to be responsible for the impact such information would have on Lauren's already precarious health. "You can be the one to decide how much to tell her," she said.
He stared hard at her, but she seemed to be sincere. Nodding, he got out of the car and left her to follow him up to the small house. He wasn't trusting enough to take her at her word. He'd be watching very carefully to ensure that Jaida had no opportunity to further upset his sister.
Mac met them at the door. "We didn't expect you for a while yet."
"The plane was actually early for once," Trey replied. He let Jaida precede him into the house. Then he inquired in a low voice, "Did you have time to do as I asked?"
His partner nodded. "All the pictures of Benjy have been removed. And I made the purchase
you requested."
"Thanks." He noticed that Jaida had turned to eye them quizzically. He raised his voice. "Jaida West, this is Mac O'Neill, my partner."
"My wife, Raine, and I have been taking care of things on this end while Trey tracked you down, Miss West."
"Mr. O'Neill," she acknowledged faintly. She didn't particularly care for his choice of words. The idea of being tracked down by Trey Garrison made her feel a bit like prey. She studied the man. He was at least as tall as his partner, and his shoulders had almost filled the doorway he'd walked through. His blue eyes were as hard as twin chips of ice. She sighed inwardly. Apparently Mac shared something with his partner. Neither of them had trusting natures.
"Well, Lauren is still asleep. I guess that's the best thing—" The woman who'd entered the living room stopped in midsentence. "Hi, Trey. Glad you're back. And you must be Jaida. We're so excited you're here."
Mac walked across the room and slipped his arm around the newcomer. "This is my wife, Raine," he said.
"It's nice to meet you," Jaida said sincerely. Raine's was the first genuine welcome she'd received since arriving, and she couldn't help responding to it.
Mac's massive arm looked heavy around his tiny wife's shoulders. But somehow, when he was standing next to Raine, one noticed his size less than the expression he regarded her with. He was a man clearly entranced by his wife.
Raine's smile lit up her wide, golden eyes. "Can I get you anything? Airline food can be pretty unappetizing, I know. Or maybe you'd like something to drink?"
"No need," Trey said dismissively. She won't be here that long, he thought. At that moment, Jaida's gaze met his and held it. When she looked away, he was left with the uncanny notion that she knew exactly what he'd been thinking.
"How's Lauren doing?" Trey asked Raine once they'd all sat down.
"She's getting stronger. She seems to think she should be getting out of bed and on her feet, but so far I've managed to dissuade her of that idea."
"Thank God," Trey muttered.
"She should be awake shortly, if you're ready—that is, if Jaida wants to begin."
Trey flicked a look at Mac and then shook his head. "I don't see any need to wait for Lauren to wake up. And I'm sure Jaida wants to get on with this. Don't you, Jaida?"
Jaida returned his gaze equably, wondering if she was the only one to hear the challenge in his voice. "I'm willing to try, yes. I'll need one of Benjy's belongings to focus on, preferably something he kept with him often. A favorite toy or book, perhaps."
"I'll get it," Mac offered, disappearing from the room. He reappeared a moment later, carrying a stuffed bear.
Raine frowned. "Mac…"
"Hush," he said, effectively silencing her. "Let Jaida concentrate."
The bear was soft in Jaida's hands, its plush fur showing no signs of wear. In another year or so, the rigorous life of being loved by a toddler would be apparent, but right now the bow on its neck was still saucy, its fur as yet unmatted. Jaida let her eyes close. She had to fight the familiar instinct that would have her shoring up barriers against the accompanying emotional onslaught. She needed all her defenses lowered, her senses completely open. Only then would she feel the full force of the psychic sensations.
But the familiar sensory overload was different this time. It was present, but the elements were muted, and jumbled badly. Jaida frowned unconsciously, clutching the bear more tightly. Try as she might, she was unable to pick through the fragmented scenes for one clue of Lauren's missing son.
Long minutes later, admitting defeat, she slowly opened her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said almost inaudibly. "I didn't see anything."
Her sense of failure grew as the silence in the room stretched. "I'm sorry," Jaida said again. This had happened before. Not often, but when it did it never failed to make her feel helpless. "I'm willing to try again. Maybe there's something else of Benjy's I could use … an article of clothing, perhaps?"
"I don't know which of you two I want to kick harder." Raine addressed both men scathingly. "Sometimes you're both as dense as granite."
Jaida stared at Raine in surprise, and then comprehension began to dawn. She looked down at the toy in her hand again, reassessing its condition. No wonder it had seemed so fresh … so new. Anger bloomed within her. She rose from the couch and stalked toward Trey. He hadn't moved, and he was still watching her with that shuttered, assessing look that told her exactly who was behind this charade. She shoved the soft bear hard at his chest. His hands came up to take it from her. "I assume that you were behind that little test," she said.
"Test? Your psychic powers seem to have escaped you, Ms. West. Maybe you need a new spell."
"If I had one," she informed him. "I'd use it to turn you into a human being."
"Trey, what have you done?" All heads turned in the direction of the softly worded question. There was no doubt about the identity of the woman standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Her pretty face was a softer, more feminine version of Trey's, minus a cleft in her chin. Her eyes were the same dark-green hue, her hair just as dark. Right now a mask of weariness and worry marred her attractiveness. As she began to make her halting way toward the group in the living room, Trey sprang to his feet.
"Lauren, you're not supposed to be out of bed." Upon reaching her, he took her by the elbow and led her gently to the love seat, where she sat down next to Raine.
"Don't fuss at me, Trey," she responded a little breathlessly. It was clear that the short walk had winded her. "And don't change the subject. From what I overheard you've offended our guest. That isn't like you." Her attention switched to Jaida then, and she offered a shy smile. "You must be Jaida. You don't know how much I appreciate your coming like this. I know it's a terrible imposition."
"I'd like to try to help, if I can," Jaida returned. "I am a little curious, though, about how you heard of me."
"You helped a relative of a friend of mine several years ago. I believe it was in New York City. Do you remember Shannon Davis?"
Jaida nodded. "Her teenage daughter had run away," she replied quietly. "We found her after she'd been missing for three months."
Nodding, Lauren said, "I worked with Shannon's sister after college. She told me the whole story. After I…" She swallowed, then continued with difficulty. "After I regained consciousness … Trey told me what happened to Benjy." Her eyes closed tightly for an instant, as she visibly strove for control. "I was dazed at first. I couldn't believe this had happened. In the days that have passed, every lead the police have followed has gone nowhere. And then one night I thought of Shannon. I remembered you and the part I heard you'd played in her daughter's return." Her gaze met her brother's. "I badgered Trey unmercifully until he promised to go and find you. I have a great deal of faith in his word, you see."
Jaida was fascinated by the trace of visible discomfort that crossed Trey's face. Obviously the man did have a conscience, though he kept it deeply hidden.
"I apologize for the inconvenience you've undergone on our behalf," Lauren went on, addressing Jaida. "But I can't honestly say I'm not excited about your being here. We've tried more conventional means for locating my son. You might be our best hope of getting him back." Her voice faltered a little. "You might be our only hope."
"I want to try. I was just telling … your brother … when you came in that I would need something of Benjy's to focus on."
The smile Lauren turned on her then was tremulous and full of expectancy. "Of course. Trey can—" She broke off, frowning a little when she spotted the stuffed bear that had fallen, forgotten, to the floor. "What's that?"
The room grew unnaturally still in the wake of her question. Mac finally answered in a strangled voice, "It's just something I bought. For Trey. I mean … for Benjy." He crossed the room rapidly and scooped it up. "I'll put it away." He hurried out of the room.
Lauren studied the expressions on the faces of the room's occupants, but said nothing. Mac returned, carrying a toy.
"I thought we could use this," he said, holding it up for Lauren's approval.
She swallowed and clasped her hands together, before nodding jerkily. "That's Benjy's favorite," Lauren said huskily. "Trey brought it to the hospital the day he was born. Remember, Trey? You swore he smiled at you for the first time. I tried to tell you that wasn't possible but you insisted…"
"I remember," Trey said gently.
"He slept with it every night," Lauren whispered. "Every night until—" Her voice broke.
Trey crossed swiftly to his sister and sank down in front of her, taking her hands in his. "And he will again," he told her firmly. "I need you to believe that. We both have to believe it. Lauren?"
She raised her eyes slowly to meet his gaze, and her fingers tightened in his.
The look the pair exchanged was so anguished that Jaida shifted her gaze, shaken by the raw emotion. Whatever else she thought of Trey Garrison, she couldn't deny the evidence of his love for his family. She focused on the toy. It was a stuffed elephant, a whimsical creature wearing a pair of red corduroy overalls. It was not adorned with buttons or small items that a baby might swallow, but its cloth trunk looked as though it had endured several vigorous chewings from a small mouth.
"Mac?"
Jaida's voice had all eyes turning in her direction. She reached for the toy, and Mac glanced at Trey. The other man nodded almost imperceptibly.
As she took the toy, Jaida was immediately rocked by the sensations she'd expected the last time. Reality receded, and her inner world seemed to stop for a moment, before speeding up to surreal rapidity. Images flooded her mind, snippets of visions that made a brilliant collage. Then the mental barrage slowed, and she was able to view the images more as she would a movie being played inside her head.
A dark-haired toddler was huddled in the middle of a bed that seemed much too large for his small shape. A neon light flickered outside the window. The light fascinated the boy, drew him closer and closer to the edge of the bed, as he craned his neck to look at it. Then a woman walked before him, blocking his view as she gazed out the window. The little boy crawled down from the bed, making his way over to where the bright colors lit the night so invitingly. A large hand yanked the boy backward. The toddler jutted out his bottom lip mulishly, his chin quivering.