by Brant, Kylie
“I expect so,” Jaida said, standing aside in silent invitation for him to enter. “She’ll want to get a look at your chin.”
Trey paused. “My chin?”
“Voices and chins,” Jaida informed him mischievously. “Granny can tell a lot about a person’s character from them. She’ll have a time with that one of yours, too. It looks like you slept on a button.”
He stared hard at her, then continued through the door.
A little smile played across her lips as she closed the door after him. Trey Garrison was a bit disconcerted, and something told her that was rare indeed. It was only fair. Her world had been set atumble at his appearance.
“Well, no need to keep the man standing in the doorway, Jaida.”
Granny’s voice snapped her from her reverie.
“Have him come in and sit down.”
Trey sank gingerly into the cane rocker Jaida indicated, surprised when it held his weight. He relaxed a little and examined the cabin’s interior. It was larger than it appeared from the outside. The room he was sitting in had a kitchen at one end, equipped with modern appliances, a wooden table and chairs. A stone fireplace was on the opposite wall. A few chairs and lamps were grouped around it. The furniture bespoke craftsmanship and gleamed with polish. There was nothing overstuffed in the entire room. He noted three doors leading away from this room. All of them were closed.
Jaida’s grandmother placed a towel over the dough she’d been working with. She walked to the sink and washed her hands thoroughly. Then she made her way to where Trey was sitting. He watched her careful approach. It was difficult to guess her age, but he’d estimate it upwards of seventy. She walked with the slightest hint of a limp, her left leg dragging a fraction. A stroke, he concluded immediately, looking at her face. It had left its ravages there, as well. He noted a plain stout cane leaning against one wall, but the woman didn’t go toward it.
His eyes went to Jaida. She didn’t hover, but neither did she seat herself until her grandmother had sunk into a rocker. Then she sat on a straight-back chair next to her.
Transferring his attention back to the older woman, he found himself subjected to an intent regard. He sat silently, allowing her the time to measure him. When she spoke it was with the accent of the Southern hills. But her voice was strong, unwavering. “Well, Mr. Garrison, exactly what is it you’re wantin’ with my girl?”
“My nephew is missing, Mrs. Logan. My sister has heard of Jaida and asked me to come and see if she could help.”
The old woman nodded, as if having strange men come here making such requests was not at all unusual. Age had dimmed eyes that surely had once been the same color as her granddaughter’s, but a keen intelligence radiated from them.
“What is it you do, Mr. Garrison?”
“My partner, Mac O’Neill and I run a security firm, ma’am.”
“Security.” The old woman snorted. “You mean alarms and bells and all that nonsense you need to keep people out because y’all build too close to each other?”
Real amusement touched Trey’s eyes. “Something like that.”
“And your sister sent you here?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she come herself?”
He hesitated a few moments. Then he finally said, “Lauren was strolling Benjy in a park on the day he was kidnapped. Someone came up behind her and jabbed a needle in her arm. The drug she was injected with was probably intended to render her temporarily unconscious. The dosage was so high it almost killed her.”
Jaida’s gasp was audible.
“She was just released from the hospital yesterday. Her physician wouldn’t hear of her traveling. I agreed to come in her place.” His gaze moved to Jaida. “You’ve heard the whole story now. Will you help?”
Jaida and her grandmother exchanged a long look. “It’s your choice, child,” the old woman said in a quiet voice.
Her choice. Jaida considered the words wistfully. There had never been any choice involved with this strange paranormal knowledge she’d been born with. It couldn’t be controlled or ignored. It had always been there, setting her apart from others, making it impossible to lead a normal life. The knowing was always lurking, dormant at times, but ready to spring out. It could be elicited by the most innocent human touch. And it could leave her devastated for hours.
Her grandmother had been referring to her decision about whether to help find Benjy, she knew. But that, too, had ceased to be a choice. She’d stopped resisting her fate long ago. She would never be normal. And if she refused to help Trey, his life and Lauren’s might never return to normal, either. The decision, if one could call it that, had been made the moment Lauren had sent her brother here.
“Yes,” she answered quietly. “I’ll help.”
His eyes gleamed at her acquiescence, but he only inclined his head slightly.
“I’ll need something of Benjy’s to hold,” she went on, mentally preparing herself for the ordeal ahead. “Did you bring anything with you?”
“What for?”
“Because that’s the way I work,” she explained patiently. “I have to hold one of his belongings, one that he kept with him much of the time. Then I may be able to sense something about Benjy that can help you find him, or at least give you a clue to his whereabouts.”
“I didn’t bring anything of his,” he responded slowly. His eyes were trained unblinkingly on her face. “I thought I could tell you about what happened and you would—” He stopped abruptly. Actually, he’d figured she’d pretend to go into a trance, then give him some information that would be so vague and open to interpretation as to be totally worthless.
“What exactly were you expecting?”
He shrugged. Although tempted, now was not the time to truthfully answer that particular question. He mentally examined his options. He had deliberately chosen to arrive here without a preliminary phone call because he hadn’t wanted to give Jaida West time to prepare a flamboyant psychic pretense for him. He was perfectly willing to scrap this visit for the waste of time he’d known it would be, but his accounting of these events would never satisfy Lauren. She’d insist he return to Arkansas, this time bringing something of Benjy’s with him. Even then, he wondered just what it would take to convince his sister that Jaida was a fake.
Unless Lauren herself saw Jaida in action.
He considered the possibility, rapidly reformulating his original strategy. It would be several days, perhaps longer, before his sister would be able to travel. But that didn’t preclude taking the so-called psychic to her. Lauren was obstinate, but she was no fool. Once she witnessed the sideshow Jaida would put on for their benefit, surely she would lose that stubborn hope that Jaida, or someone like her, could help find Benjy.
He studied Jaida thoughtfully. His only problem lay in persuading her to accompany him home.
“I’m afraid I’ve wasted a lot of valuable time,” he said, sounding chagrined. “By the time I fly home and back with something of my nephew’s . . . I don’t like to think of how much farther away he could be by then.”
Jaida looked at him helplessly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Garrison. I wish there were something else I could do.”
“Perhaps there is.” His answer came quickly. Maybe too quickly. “You could come back with me to Benjy’s home. You could talk to Lauren. And then you could try your . . .”
She wondered if she imagined the slight hesitation she heard before his next words.
“Ability, with one of his belongings.”
Jaida was surprised into silence by his suggestion. She glanced at Granny for help, but her grandmother was studying Trey, a serene look on her face. “I don’t think that would be possible,” she said faintly. She’d gone before to victims’ homes, but only when she’d known them. A few times when she’d helped the local sheriff, she’d even traveled to crime scenes. But this man was a stranger. And one whom she was loath to spend any more time with than necessary.
“I understand y
our reluctance, but I have to remind you of what my family has riding on this, Jaida.” His voice was persuasive, his face intent. “My sister’s health is extremely precarious. Her mental state isn’t much better. You might be our only hope. Can you really turn your back on us, not knowing if you could have helped?”
She stared at him, something about his manner disturbing her, but she was distracted by the truth of his words. She had no trouble imagining the picture he’d painted. Her gift had always been a liability for her. The only thing that made living with it bearable was the occasional chance to use it to help others. She didn’t know if she could forgive herself if she refused even to try. On the other hand, something about Trey’s still air, his shrewd assessing gaze made her every sense scream caution.
Granny took her hand then, and at once the woman’s blend of wisdom and strength flowed to Jaida, calming her, providing comfort.
“You’ll be all right, child,” Granny whispered in a low voice. “You do the right thing now.”
Jaida looked into her grandmother’s eyes for a moment, and what she saw there reassured her. Turning back to Trey, she said, in an almost inaudible voice, “All right, I’ll go.”
“Great.”
A wealth of satisfaction was contained in that one word, and Jaida shivered suddenly.
“Please excuse me.” He withdrew a cell from his suit jacket pocket. “I’ll make our travel arrangements.”
Granny nodded, never moving her gaze from his face. After several moments, she rose from her chair. “Come, Jaida, I’ll help you pack. Mr. Garrison will be wantin’ to get back to California soon’s possible.”
“California?” Jaida echoed. She looked at Trey. His expression was arrested. “Yes, California. That’s where I live. That’s where Lauren is.”
Granny walked slowly past Jaida toward the bedroom, Troubled, Jaida followed her without another word.
After a call to information, Trey was connected to the Little Rock airport. Quiet triumph filled him. Jaida was accompanying him home. Once there he would have very little further use for her. He’d quickly prove to Lauren that the woman was a fake, and she’d give up the idea of enlisting the aid of Jaida West or someone else like her. Chasing these wild ideas took valuable time away from the investigation for Benjy. His biggest concern was the emotional toll the disappointment would have on Lauren once she realized she’d pinned her hopes on a fraud.
He spoke to the airline desk and was able to get an extra seat on his flight for Jaida. He hadn’t expected any difficulty. He was traveling first-class and the section was rarely full. Then he made a second call to Lauren’s home and gave a brief explanation of the change of plans to Mac. He and his wife, Raine, had been staying with Lauren in Trey’s absence. He was the one man in the world Trey could entrust Lauren’s safety to. Mac was also the only one in Trey’s acquaintance who would agree to follow without question the instructions Trey proceeded to give him.
A slight frown marred his brow as he looked in the direction of the bedroom the women had disappeared into. He’d expected Jaida to ask their destination, but how the hell had her grandmother known? Obviously there was something about him that had given away the state he’d called home in recent years, but he was at a loss to explain what that might be.
“Granny, don’t lift that thing. Let me do it.” Jaida hurried into her bedroom. Granny had dragged the big suitcase from her closet and was preparing to lift it onto the bed.
“You’ll do no such thing,” the old woman said tartly. “I’ve told you before, Jaida, I’m no invalid. Now, get your clothes out and fill this bag up. That Mr. Garrison don’t strike me as the patient sort.”
Jaida made no move to obey her grandmother. “Just how did he strike you, Granny?” Despite her faith in the older woman’s visions, something about Trey bothered her. A lot.
“He has a strong chin,” she muttered. And then in a louder tone she added, “He’s a determined one. That’s a fella who gets what he wants. But you’ll be safe with him. I seen enough to know that.”
“But he doesn’t really believe in my ability, Granny. Didn’t you read that from him?”
Granny turned to face her only grandchild. “No, he’s here for his own reasons—that’s a fact,” she agreed. “But them reasons can’t stop you from finding the boy, now, can they?” Not waiting for her granddaughter to reply, she continued, “And whether that man knows it or not, he needs you. He’s got a powerful big void inside him that’s eating him alive, but he’s a stubborn one. You’ll have your work cut out for you this time.”
She moved to the closet again, and Jaida rose to help her. Certainly she’d help Benjy in any way that she could. Now that she’d met his uncle and heard of the little boy’s plight, her conscience wouldn’t let her do otherwise. But she was troubled by what else her grandmother was intimating. If there was an emptiness in Trey Garrison, it was hidden far deeper than she could see. And what could that possibly have to do with her, in any case? Her gift sometimes enabled her to help find missing persons, but it didn’t extend to helping people find pieces missing from themselves.
“I don’t understand,” she finally murmured. “What else can I possibly help Trey Garrison with?”
Granny Logan carefully placed a homemade sachet in the suitcase, between the neatly folded clothes. It was filled with bits of dried flowers and herbs, and its aroma would be a lingering reminder of the hills of home. Jaida went to the drawer of the small table next to the bed and took out a bottle of pills. Exchanging a glance with her grandmother, she dropped the bottle into her purse.
“Trust me, child. That man needs you, in more ways than one. Jist . . .” The old woman hesitated, peering at her granddaughter. “Jist you be careful, girl.”
Jaida gave a quick laugh. “Granny, don’t be silly. Trey might be maddening, but I’ve dealt with ignorance and disbelief before. I can handle it.”
Her grandmother gave her a sad smile. Her precious child, so full of talent and energy, was much too innocent. Life had hammered her once before, sent her running back to this safe valley, but the girl couldn’t hide here forever, no matter what she thought. She followed Jaida out the bedroom door and joined the man in the living room.
Granny walked up to Trey, who was standing at the window. He turned at her approach. Standing very near him, she surveyed his chin again. Whatever she saw didn’t disappoint her. This might be a hard man and a stubborn one, but he wasn’t evil; he still had a soul. He just needed a little help remembering that.
“You take care of my girl, Mr. Garrison.”
The woman’s tone was fierce, and Trey felt a hint of respect. Whatever shortcomings Jaida West might have, her grandmother’s love was apparent. He gave her a short nod and reached to take the suitcase from Jaida. His fingers collided with hers, and again he felt a strange spark at the touch. She snatched her hand away from his as though she had been scorched.
Turning away from the electric contact, Jaida embraced her grandmother. “I’ll call you as soon as I reach California,” she promised.
Granny Logan snorted. “I don’t need no checking up on, young lady. I’ve been doin’ for myself since long before you was born.”
Jaida rolled her eyes. “So you’ve said. Take care, then, Granny. I’ll be back soon.”
The old woman stood in the doorway, watching them leave. They were halfway down the drive when she called, “Garrison.”
Trey turned inquiringly.
Granny pointed an arthritic finger at him. “You hurt my girl and you answer to me. Understand that?”
Jaida watched the two stare at each other, their gazes clashing. Then Trey turned away without answering and continued toward the Jeep. Jaida blew her grandmother a fond kiss and joined him.
The Jeep was long out of sight before Granny Logan closed the door of the cabin. Despite her faith in her sight, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just thrown her lamb to a very hungry lion.
Jaida pushed her heavy sheaf o
f straight hair away from her face, reached forward and turned the air conditioner on. “The Jeep was a good choice,” she told the man driving silently beside her. “How’d you know that a car wasn’t going to be much use where I lived?”
“I’m always prepared,” he told her shortly.
She’d bet he was. He looked like someone who would plan for every eventuality. He was, as her granny had said, a man used to getting what he wanted.
Those had been the first words he’d spoken since they’d left the cabin. Jaida had pointed out landmarks in the town they passed through, Dixon Falls. The small school building, lone bar and two stores hadn’t elicited a comment from him. Nor had the gorgeous countryside they’d passed through for the next hour and a half.
Now, as she recognized the city limits of Little Rock, trepidation filled her. The turnoff for the airport was nearing. “Why don’t we stop and get something to eat?” she suggested hopefully, delaying the inevitable. “I didn’t have lunch.”
“You can eat on the plane,” he answered.
“I don’t think so,” she mumbled. She knew from experience that all traces of her usually healthy appetite would disappear at first sight of the airport. “I don’t suppose you ever use the train?”
Trey looked at her oddly. “Do you have a problem with planes?”
Only while they’re in the air, she replied silently.
They turned the vehicle in at the rental agency at the airport and checked their bags. “Come on,” he said, reaching for her elbow. “Our plane is loading now.”
Jaida took a step backward, avoiding his touch. “Wait a minute,” she said, stalling. “Let’s talk about this.”
“On the plane,” he said firmly. “Hurry up or it will leave without us.”
“We should be so lucky,” she muttered. She took a deep breath and reluctantly followed him through the airport, onto the plane and into a seat. She immediately put on her seat belt, rechecking it for secureness several times. The luxury of the first-class cabin was lost on her. As the plane taxied up the runway, her fingers clenched the armrests.