The Diamond Bearer's Secret

by Lorena Angell

  I look into Anika’s mind and find she’s handling her parents’ deaths quite well, all things considered. Her faith and belief that she’ll see them again have made it possible for her to skip several important grieving steps. That can’t be entirely good.

  I say aloud, “I’m able to read Anika’s mind.”

  “Great,” Brand shouts, pumping his fist in the air.

  I focus on Anika and try to make her walk to the other side of the room. She doesn’t move. I say aloud, “Walk to the window.” She does, but not without freaking out about having her body controlled.

  “This is wrong! I can’t stop! Make me stop!”

  Brand and Beth are literally laughing on the floor.

  I release my hold on Anika and become visible again. “I couldn’t make you move without speaking. I’ve noticed Maetha spoke out loud whenever she used the power too. At least to my recollection, anyway.”

  “Don’t ever do that again,” Anika shrieks.

  “You told her to,” Brand reminds her as he reigns in his laughter and gets up off the floor.

  “That was before I knew what it would feel like.”

  Beth stands and says, “Let’s go find out who owns the mailbox.”

  I say, “Hang on a second. Are there any extra topazes here? I need a couple.”

  “There’s a couple more in the other room.”

  Beth helps me attach two topaz to my chest. I plan on charging one with thought-projection and the other with mind-reading. Hopefully, I won’t need to use either right away.

  I use my Blue shard to appear invisible before leaving the house, just in case Agent Whitman is watching the premises. We get into the car Chris turned over to the Diamond Bearers for this very use. Beth volunteers to drive, Anika sits up front with her, and Brand sits in the back with me. I ponder as we drive through the city of Denver what life would be like if General Harding hadn’t been shot by Deus—if he’d been able to become a Diamond Bearer.

  Crimson’s voice enters my mind. I wouldn’t have let it happen. However, I’m relieved I didn’t need to act, and that Deus took care of the situation.

  Anika asks. “What’s the plan?”

  Brand clears his throat and says, “I’m going to ask to set up a mailbox and see what happens from there. Calli can use her bag of tricks to help. Together, we’ll walk out of there with a name.”

  “Confident much?” Beth teases as she turns the car into the parking lot of the shipping store.

  Brand gets out of the back seat and holds the door open for me to climb out. Anika and Beth remain in the car. I use my telepathy to speak to Brand’s mind instead of verbally communicating as people are nearby.

  A customer exits the building and Brand grabs the door and holds it open for me to go inside.

  I’m in, I tell him. Together we wait in line. I notice a sign on the wall stating the requirements of setting up a mailbox account. Applicants need to provide photo ID and proof of address. This gives me hope we’ll be successful.

  “Can I help you?” a young female employee named Janette asks.

  Brand dives right in. “How do I find out who owns mailbox number thirty-seven?”

  “I can’t give that information.”

  The ground spins wildly and we come back to Janette asking how she can help Brand.

  “How do I set up a mailbox?” Brand asks.

  Janette runs down a list of items needed to begin the application. Brand doesn’t have everything needed to set one up.

  Brand repeats back with me and says to Janette, “Can I pick up an application for setting up a mailbox? I don’t have time to fill it out here.”

  “Sure.” She turns around and opens a stuffed file cabinet drawer. I notice the files are in numerical order, making me think those numbers might correspond with the mailbox numbers. She pushes hard against the mass of files to get into one of the forward files. “Oh, sorry, looks like I need to print off more applications. It will only take a minute or so.” Janette pushes the drawer almost closed, but not quite. She hurries away.

  I’m going to try to see who is in file thirty-seven, I tell Brand. I’m about to hurry around the counter when the ground whirls around once again.

  “Could I get an application to set up a mailbox, please?”

  “Sure.”

  “Go now, Calli,” Brand whispers.

  I move quickly and get positioned by the drawer. Janette realizes she’ll need to print more applications and leaves. I slide the drawer open slowly, trying not to draw attention from the other employees. The file I need is visible. I slide my hand into the file to try to get a look at a name and address. The first paper doesn’t have the information I’m after, so I thumb over the edges of the other papers until I find the right one. Before I can get a look, the room zooms in a sickening circle and I’m back to where I started from.

  “Go now, Calli,” Brand whispers.

  How does Brand do this? I’m going crazy trying to keep up. At least I know exactly what I’m going after this time. I don’t waste a moment thumbing through the papers. Instead, I go right for the goal. The registered name reads: Dorothy Ruby. I don’t recognize the name. I memorize the address and move out of the way just as Janette comes back with the papers. She bumps into the drawer and realizes it’s opened more than when she left it. I read her mind and find she dismisses the issue, figuring one of her co-workers opened the drawer. She scratches the top of her head.

  “Here you go. I included a list of the required documents you need to provide when you return.”

  “Thanks Janette.” Brand dishes out a big dose of charm and leaves the building.

  Piling into the car, I give Beth the address I retrieved from the file.

  Beth says, “Is it okay to use my phone to look up the address?”

  “No, probably not. Are there any maps in the glove box?”

  Brand opens the center console and pulls out a GPS device and cord. “Use this, Beth.”

  “Does that even work?”

  Brand nods his head.

  While Beth plugs in and turns on the GPS, Brand says, “Wasn’t that fun, Calli? I told you we’d leave with a name. Oh, and look,” he points to the GPS screen. “The address isn’t far away. We’re gonna catch a blogger today, folks.”

  Enthusiasm is high in the car, until we arrive at the address and find a large, sprawling, single-level building with well-manicured lawns and flower beds. The large framed sign over the front doors says East Side Assisted Living.

  “What do you make of this, Brand?” I ask.

  “Must be a resident who set up the mailbox.”

  “Or a dead end,” Beth states. She parks the car and turns it off.

  Brand says in a rather defeated tone, “We’re not getting anywhere. There’s no one by that name here. No employee, either.”

  “You repeated?” Anika asks.

  “Yeah.”

  Anika grunts at his response, which draws my attention. She says, “They’re not going to just tell you information like that, Brand.” She unhooks her seatbelt and turns to Brand. “I want to try something. Come in with me, Brand.”

  I speak up. “I’m coming too.”

  Anika, Brand, and I get out of the car and walk inside the foyer. Anika says to Brand, “Wait here.”

  The front door opens and a lady hurries inside the building, almost running right into me. I jump out of the way, barely missing having my invisible-self exposed.

  Anika says, “I’m from Denver Radiology here to pick up Dorothy Ruby’s records.”

  The receptionist reaches for the stack of files. “What was the patient’s name again?”

  “Last name Ruby, first Dorothy.”

  “We don’t have any residents by that name. Are you sure you have the name right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me make a call. Perhaps she’s a new resident.” The receptionist picks up the phone. I take the opportunity to read her mind. She doesn’t know anyone by that name. “Denv
er Radiology is here to pick up a chart for Dorothy Ruby . . . okay, I thought I better double-check.” She hangs up the phone and says to Anika, “Sorry, we don’t have a patient here by that name.”

  “Okay. I’ll call my office and figure out what to do. Thank you.”

  Anika walks to Brand and they push open the door. I keep my eyes on the receptionist and notice a man comes to the desk asking for details about Anika’s request. His eyes follow Brand and Anika. I hurry out the door before it closes.

  We all sit quietly in the car for a moment. Dead end is right.

  Beth is the first to speak up. “Well, what do we know? Someone set up a mailbox with a fake name and address. That someone has to show up to the shipping store eventually to get their mail, right?”

  “Are you going to perform a stake-out, Beth?” I ask.

  “Yes. Why not? We have pictures of everyone from the compound. Besides, this is the only solid lead we have.”

  “There’s got to be a better way.”

  Beth starts the car and backs up. “I’m returning to the mailbox store. Maybe there’s some other information in the file like a phone number or other address.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I say. “What do you think, Brand?”

  “It’s too far out to tell. Keep driving.”

  We’re about five minutes away from the mailbox store. I realize Brand must be bothered by only being able to repeat two minutes. At this moment, he seems agitated and restless. I think he doesn’t like time to play out naturally. I choose not to read his mind, even though I could.

  I say, “When we get there, I’ll go inside and check to see if there’s any mail in box thirty-seven.”

  “How? You don’t have a key,” says Anika.

  “The boxes are accessible from the backside.”

  Beth adds, “While we’re waiting, we can go over the compound’s files in search of Dorothy Ruby.”

  We arrive back where we started from. As we pull into the parking lot, Brand says, “There’s mail. Calli just checked.” Then he turns to Beth. “Park over by that light pole. We’ll be out of the main traffic area, but still in position to see inside the building.”

  “Okay,” Beth says, and moves the car.

  I ask, “Brand, did I look in the file cabinet when I was in there?” It’s so weird asking him about what I just did when I can’t remember myself.

  “No, we’re waiting here till someone opens . . . okay, in two minutes the drawer will be opened. Go inside and get in position. I’ll repeat if you get caught.”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “No, Janette will recognize me and ask questions.”

  “Who’s Janette?” Beth asks, her expression pinched.

  Brand doesn’t answer, instead opens the car door to let me out. We have to keep up appearances. If the car door opened on its own, someone might take notice. If this was a van with an automatic opening door, that would be a different thing. I’m able to get inside the building without a fuss. The frequency of customers entering and exiting is convenient for what I need. Moving around the people within the small building is another story.

  Janette opens the drawer again and pulls out a file for a customer.

  Now’s my chance, I think. I hurry around the counter and carefully slide my hand into file thirty-seven. I try to imagine what it must look like to anyone paying attention to the files. They’d look like they were parting by themselves.

  A loud commotion comes from the direction of the front door. I look, along with everyone else in the store, to see Brand half-buried under the toppled stack of display boxes by the door. He catches my eye and says, “Yank the whole file when I knock the boxes over.” Then the room whips around me in nauseating fashion to where I haven’t gone around the counter yet. Janette opens the drawer and I move around the counter. I slip my fingers on either side of the correct file and wait to remove it until the signal.

  A thought comes to my mind. Will this file become invisible to everyone like I am? How will I know if other people can see it? I figure Brand will repeat if we run into a problem. Wait, Brand has already repeated. This must mean I need some extra cover.

  The tumbling boxes by the door pulls everyone’s attention away from the file that’s seemingly rising out of the drawer. I wrap my arms around it.

  “Hide!” Brand shouts.

  Hide? I act quickly, slipping around the corner into the back room, figuring the file didn’t turn invisible and Brand is trying to help out.

  Brand continues talking loud, “Hide-ee-oh, so sorry about that. I’m so clumsy. Here let me pick these up.”

  I stand with my back against a bulletin board. In front of me, to the left, is the back side of the mailboxes. Beyond them is the rear exit. The room hasn’t spun around yet, so I make the decision to run out the back door. But before I can take a step, the unmistakable rushing sensation of my powers fleeing my body causes me to reappear. I instantly access my charged topaz and reinstate my invisibility. Someone has a large piece of obsidian, but who? Luckily, no one is in the back room with me. I move into position and pause. I send my thoughts to Brand. I’m going out the back door.

  Pushing the door open, I’m shocked to find Beth. She has moved the car to the rear parking area, with the back door open. I jump in the car without hesitation. She drives away faster than normal.

  “What’s happening?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. As soon as you went in the building, he jumped out and told me to go wait for you in the back, and then to drive back to the house right away.”

  “What about him?”

  Anika says, “He can take care of himself.”

  “What, and I can’t?”

  Beth adds, “I’m sorry Calli, I’m just doing as he says.”

  I mentally stop using the topaz and focus on refilling it.

  Chapter 10 – Trevor and Bob

  We arrive at the house without Brand. I can’t help but feel he’s in danger and needs my help. But like Crimson said, I must be careful. I maintain my invisibility and the three of us go inside the house.

  Beth paces in front of the living room window with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Anika is in the kitchen, chopping and dicing something, who knows what.

  I open the folder I’ve just stolen and spread the papers out on the table.

  “Beth, where’s the list of names of people you haven’t been able to find?”

  She brings the paper to me and returns to her pacing. I compare the names listed on the mailbox registration form under “people with permission to pick up mail” to the names on Beth’s paper.

  “I found a match!”

  Beth is by my side in an instant. I guess I forgot she is a Runner. I point to the two names and say, “Robert McKinney, Trevor Floyd.”

  “They put their real names on the form? Absolutely, positively stupid!”

  I chuckle at Beth’s reaction, then say, “Well, look at these applications. Setting up a box isn’t an easy thing to do. Dorothy Ruby is probably a real person they know. She was probably with them when the mailbox was set up. Looking at this photocopy of the license, I think Robert and Trevor might have faked Dorothy’s driver’s license to reflect the nursing home’s address. The font type looks different.” I study the paper intently, then hand it to Beth. “When we were at the nursing home, I read the mind of the woman at the front desk. She was telling the truth when she said they didn’t have any residents there by that name. I think either Robert or Trevor works there, and they used that address for the required forms instead of their home address. Adding their names to the authorized list takes Dorothy out of the picture.”

  Beth says, “So, Dorothy is the face, the nursing home is the identifying address, and Robert and Trevor are authorized to pick up the mail and take it wherever they want.”

  “Looks that way to me.”

  I search through the personnel files from General Harding’s compound for Robert’s and Trevor’s files. Once I find t
hem, I remove the photographs paper-clipped inside. Their names are listed on the backside. Robert’s photo also includes his nickname: Bob. Trevor and Bob. Those were the names of the guards with the vests, according to Chris.

  The front door opens and Beth leaves my side so fast the papers in front of me fly up from her air displacement. Brand has returned.

  “Don’t ever do that again!” She points a finger in his face and then assaults him with kisses.

  I give them a second, then approach him and ask, “What happened?”

  “Well, a man walked in wearing one of the military vests that have obsidian and green crystals. So, I repeated to warn you.”

  I show Brand two pictures from General Harding’s files and he identifies Trevor Floyd. “Yep, that’s him,” he says. “The obsidian on his vest caused you to reappear. I still had the power to repeat, because of the quartz, but I didn’t, because I wanted to follow the guy. Trevor collected his mail, then went outside and made a phone call. He told whoever was on the other end that he raced to the mailbox store to grab the mail after someone came to the nursing home asking for Dorothy.” Brand looks at me with a big grin. “See, we did find the guy and his name after all.”

  “Why would he wear a vest out in public?” Beth asks.

  “Probably for protection,” I say. “Think about it. How would anyone find out who the mailbox was registered to? And who would take the time to investigate? Someone with powers. He didn’t want to take a chance.”

  “Well, this is quite exciting. Now we know who’s working the blog and where the missing vests are. We’ll have this wrapped up quickly.” Brand sits on the couch and stretches his arms over his head.

  Beth holds up a paper. “Except that these two are on the list of unknowns. We couldn’t find them because we didn’t have an address. We still don’t know where they live.”

  “At least we know Trevor is in the area. Robert probably is too,” I say.

  “Time for another stake out?” Brand asks.

  “Tomorrow.”

  I try to communicate with Chris. He speaks to my mind, letting me know he can’t talk right now. I can’t help but feel a little let down, but I know his work is important. I decide to try bi-locating to Jonas.