by Treva Harte
Cassie knew he was right. She'd been avoiding thinking about the whole situation-up to the point of accepting Wynn as an uninvited guest for the past few hours rather than probing for why he was here.
The frightening thing was that he seemed to be avoiding things, too. He had stepped into her house as easily as he had stepped into her mind and somehow he made everything seem right. But what was he going to tell her at last?
She looked at him as he brushed wisps of hair from his shoulders. She had a sudden urge to help him with his cleanup. Touching him for his haircut had started up all kinds of urges. Cassie kept her hands close to herself. But she wanted to touch him. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry from less-than-pure lust.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, girl.
He was way out of her league. He was too handsome, too smart, just too much altogether. She'd have to remember that, even if he seemed more approachable suddenly.
His transformation came from more than a haircut. At some point—well, she knew the point had been when they both had suddenly realized she could enter his head too—he had changed.
Maybe it was hard to keep aloof and mysterious when you could mind-talk with someone. But, whatever the reason, she had the feeling Wynn had decided she was all right and he could show his real self. Wynn had a very nice real self that he kept hidden away for special people. That self had turned agreeable and open and rather charming.
Unless he was just acting, trying to make her trust him and go along with whatever it was he had planned. How could she tell? This mind-talking formed a bond, all right, but that didn't mean the person you had a bond with was trustworthy.
She didn't know this guy at all. She just gave him buzz cuts to disguise him from mystery bad guys, chatted to him via telepathy and apparently was going to have him as a houseguest for an indefinite period.
Maybe she really was crazy after all.
*Will you stop that? You aren't crazy. You have a gift. You just don't know how to use it properly yet. I'll help you. I have to. It's an obligation. Besides, I need you to learn. You have to help me.*
"I wish you'd stop walking into my mind unannounced," Cassie told Wynn. "It's like someone stepping into your bathroom while you're in there naked."
This time his grin was slow and wicked.
"Sorry." He said aloud.
*I'm just not used to people noticing that I can do it.*
*That's a terrible excuse, Wynn.*
"If you want to teach me how to use this—this ability, you can start now. How do I stop people like you from doing that to me?" Cassie asked.
"From getting into your mind?"
"Yes."
"Well—"
"Oh no, Wynn. Don't try to make something up. You're the one who said I have to help you on this stupid mission of yours. If I have to help, I have to know what to do. I have to know how to do everything."
"I liked you better when I thought you were just a flake. Now you're getting logical on me."
"I never liked you. But since you're starting to pretend to be a human being, I guess I can pretend to be logical. And, let me tell you, until I can work this voice thing, I'd appreciate it if we communicate like two ordinary human beings."
"We are ordinary human beings. We happen to have an unusual talent, but everyone has a talent in this life. The use we make of our talent is what makes any human being extraordinary."
"Nice speech, Wynn. You give it often?"
"My mother gave the speech to me when she prepared me for what I could do a long time ago. I was impressed. I see that you aren't."
"Maybe it's all in the delivery. Or maybe your mother wasn't planning to use you on some dangerous escapade where she refuses to tell you much of anything that's going on." Cassie crossed her arms and glared.
"She wouldn't. Now Da would've had no problem with doing that to me if he thought he could've gotten away with it." Wynn didn't glare back. Instead he looked more and more cheerful and pleased. "Very well. What do you want first? To have your gift explained or to have the reason I'm here explained?"
"Whichever is the more urgent."
"Y' know, Cassie for someone who looks like such a flake-"
"Careful, Wynn."
"For someone who seems as-as unconcerned with appearances as you, you often sound remarkably well-educated."
"For a cleaning person, you mean?"
"For any person."
"Summa cum laude from Williams. How about you?"
"Never went to a school in my life."
"You're kidding, right?" Cassie pushed back a laugh. "I mean, the way you talk and your house looks and-well, it seems so incredibly-conventional."
"If I have to stop name-calling, you do, too. No, my childhood was not conventional. We lived like gypsies when I was young. Da saw no reason to put me in school. We were never around anywhere long enough for me to go anyhow. Da taught me—well, he taught me everything I needed to know."
"I never would have guessed it."
"Appearances can be deceiving. I would never have guessed your educational background, either. Not, of course, that I would try to say anything disparaging about your appearance or your education."
"Of course not, Mr. Harmon. As interesting as I'm sure it would be for us to talk about our pasts—" Cassie deliberately refused to think about a certain part of her past right then in case someone chose to pry "—I'm not as concerned about that right now as I am about our immediate future."
Wynn, who had been thinking about a man who had appeared god-like to his small son and about the near-escapes they'd had together both from the law and from those on the opposite side of the law, reluctantly pulled himself away from his memories.
Da had taught Wynn everything Da thought important. How to dress well and talk well. How to size up a situation and use it to advantage. How to use his gift to make people do what Wynn needed them to do. Maybe that wasn't really everything, but it'd done fine for Wynn so far. After all, Da hadn't been all bad—at least not at first—and he'd never been stupid.
Despite everything, he missed his father. Sometimes.
He looked over the small woman in front of him. She wouldn't understand his past or what was going on with him now, but, by God, she was going to be shaping the future for them both. So it was time to explain what that meant.
He didn't want to.
Something had changed. She wasn't just some nutty free spirit who had managed to pick up on his mental signals. He didn't know her as well as he intended to, but there was intelligence there and humor.
Bloody hell. He was starting to worry about her. He didn't want to feel that way.
Of course even if she did agree, there was no danger for her. That was the whole point. She would simply slip in and out and no one would be able to figure who she was or why she was there because there was no logical reason for her to be part of this. No one would look for her afterward.
Even if they did, they'd never know where to look. It was that simple.
Despite those assurances to himself, Wynn knew things had changed. He had just wanted to get the job over with. Now he was afraid to start.
* * * * *
"Well, where is he?" Emmanuel Rauss looked at the two in front of him.
They looked at each other. They looked at the floor. They didn't look at him. Emmanuel took that as a very bad sign.
"We lost him for a minute. Sir."
Carter looked almost as miserable as he should about making such an admission.
But not quite miserable enough.
"If you lost him briefly then you must have found him again?"
There was another long silence.
"Not yet." This came from Ullmann.
"Then he's gone. And you have no idea where he is."
"Well, we're looking. We have someone looking at his computer files. And, after all, we have all the contents of his house to find clues in."
"And you think Harmon is a careless man? After all, we are talking of someone
who managed to escape you quite easily."
"There must be some clues somewhere. He left everything behind. He was in a hurry."
"Or he planned this very expertly. I may have underestimated this Harmon. I still don't understand his connection with the Senator so I couldn't use him properly. What have you found out about him so far?"
The two other men looked at each other again. Emmanuel began to think he was dealing with complete incompetence. He hated that. He could feel some anger beginning to bubble and strove to be polite. Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions. He would give them another chance to explain.
Still, his fingers began to drum, just slightly, on the chair. He was being patient, very patient, but he wanted something besides foolish looks. He dealt with intelligent people whenever possible. Stupidity was a waste of his valuable time. That was why he had long ago chosen to only be with a select few who understood what he needed.
These people were failing him.
"Well?"
"There isn't much." Ullmann looked even gloomier when he had to say that. "He doesn't seem to be the sort of fellow you can track easily. No school records, no steady girlfriend—or boyfriend—no insurance, no known living family—"
"The Senator must speak to him regularly for a reason. We know he can get in touch with Harmon night and day from our surveillance equipment. At least he used to be. Of course we had to take that equipment out once the Senator announced his candidacy since too many people are now checking for bugs. So. What is Harmon's area of expertise?" Emmanuel smiled encouragingly, but wondered if they even knew that much.
"Well we think...As far as we can tell, he's something of a mind-reader."
"What?"
"There are stories about him. Nothing we can pin down. Politics is new for him. What he usually does is a little mysterious. Wealthy people employ him to find things when they seem gone forever. Jewels, people..." Ullmann swallowed. "Naturally people in power don't like to talk about hiring someone like that. One woman said he found her kidnapped granddaughter when the police weren't able to. We don't know how he does it, but there are rumors of some kind of E.S.P. Everything has been kept very quiet and confidential, though."
"E.S.P. Mind reader. Oh God. A clever charlatan? I thought better of the Senator." Emmanuel frowned as he pondered the problem. "Maybe there's something more to this. Something you haven't found out yet. And, of course, why is the Senator talking to someone like this at all? What has he lost?"
Whatever Art Hornsby wanted must be important if he was willing to risk using someone with Wynn Harmon's reputation. Emmanuel knew of nothing in the senator's background that would make him willing to risk ridicule for psychic aid.
That alone was worth some consideration.
"Perhaps your contact could find out," Carter hesitantly said.
He immediately stopped when Emmanuel looked at him.
"My contact with the Senator is already working on the problem. She's getting very little help from my people outside, though." Emmanuel frowned, almost impersonally, at the two men.
They both shifted their feet.
"He has very little of a personal nature in the house and no correspondence. He didn't use much e-mail, either, for example. Not that we could find."
"Hmmm. I find that difficult to believe. When people watched him they saw him on the computer for long periods of time."
"We're looking."
Either his men were stupider than he had originally judged or Harmon was far, far more than Emmanuel had anticipated. Emmanuel hated to believe he had misjudged his people although they were giving many indications of their stupidity at the moment.
On the other hand, Harmon might be an even more complicated problem than he had originally believed.
"Look harder." His voice became even softer. Perhaps he would have to start looking for himself.
He didn't mind eliminating complicated problems.
Chapter Six
"Art contacted me about a year ago. Very privately, you understand." Wynn leaned forward as he spoke, hoping Cassie realized what this meant to them both.
"I had no idea who he was then or what he had planned. Art wasn't saying much. He knew that as soon as people heard that he wanted to run for president, things wouldn't be the same for him. And if they ever heard why he contacted me, he'd be laughed out of office."
"You don't have to look at me. No one would ever think to ask me, even if I wanted to tell." Cassie shrugged.
She didn't like the questioning she saw in Wynn's eyes. He shouldn't have to wonder about her.
"Maybe not," Wynn answered.
He moved back and away from her as his mind closed.
"He wants to be president. That isn't news now that he's announced. But Arthur Hornsby is a cautious man. He wanted to see what some of his potential advisors and confidantes really thought of him and his campaign before he committed himself to anything. He wanted to discover his potential opponents' weaknesses. And, somehow, he heard of me."
"And he believed in your abilities?" Cassie wasn't sure if she should be impressed or appalled.
"He doesn't know everything about me, of course. I never tell people everything. He just knows what most people do. I can find things out about people. Art doesn't ask how. I usually choose to work for people like that. If they don't know how I get my information then they don't question its validity."
"So, even though he doesn't know how you do this, you became his little mind tapper?"
"To some extent. He didn't know how useful I could be. I wasn't sure how useful I could be myself at first. I can't see into everyone's thoughts. Some people I can find no link with. Others have a weak connection with me. With some I can have very clear pictures for limited amounts of time. And it's always been harder for me to project my thoughts into others' brains. I've never had anyone hear me thinking before you. But then my gift can't always be commanded or forced."
"In other words it isn't controlled?" Cassie asked, sweetly.
Wynn shrugged.
"So what do you do for the Senator? Go to cocktail parties and hang out, listening?"
"Sometimes. I'm not very good at cocktail parties, I admit. Usually I find out other ways. I'm known to be flexible and resourceful on assignments. Art has been pretty pleased with what I've been able to come up with for him, especially when everything always checked out. Gradually what I've been doing, well—it's become pretty big-time. In fact, lately I've started having some delusions about becoming part of his staff somehow." Wynn swallowed. "That's a step up from what I usually do."
Cassie looked at Wynn. He seemed to be telling the truth, but he didn't look as pleased as most people in the D.C. area would be to make that announcement.
"Part of the president's staff? That sounds impressive. But? I can tell there is a 'But' coming."
"Very perceptive of you. I ran into something I didn't expect. You see, I began to get flashes of one mind that was intent on more than campaign finance or policy or cutting some political enemy's throat. I began to realize that someone was out to seriously use Art."
"Lida."
"Lida. She wants him to be elected president and she wants to be his running mate." Wynn stopped, abruptly.
"So she's ambitious." Cassie shrugged, too. "That's pretty common in politicians."
"She's evil. I don't say that lightly."
The old, spooky Wynn was back. The one who frightened her. She couldn't read his thoughts at all and his face had become a blank mask. He looked at her with his intent stare as if he knew all the evil mysteries of the universe and intended to tell her just enough about them to scare her.
And he was.
"How is she evil?"
"She's twisted and she has a—a group of allies who are evil. They know that they could never get themselves into power directly but Arthur Hornsby is a chance for them to get what they want indirectly. You see, he loves her. Or at least he loves the Lida he thinks he knows. And he respects her enough that he m
ight just consider making her his vice president."
"Oh, man." Cassie rubbed her neck. "Well, there are a bunch of problems here. First, it doesn't say much for Art's-uh, Senator Hornsby's-judgment. Second of all he's married and third, if Lida is so evil, why is he involved with her at all? I mean, when you say he loves her I figure you don't mean he loves her from afar."
"No, not from afar. That isn't general knowledge of course. And as to the rest, well, it's not easy to find Lida out. But for my gift, I'm not sure I could see what she wants. All her life she's learned to conceal emotions and show what people want to see. You see, not only is she a politician but her family has been involved in politics for years—her father is one of Art's oldest friends. In fact he was his first campaign manager."
"There's more to this, of course, or you wouldn't be so worried. What does she want, exactly? Other than to sleep with Art and be vice president?"
"I'm not sure how much is safe to tell you. And I see this through her mind—sometimes—so what I understand may not be all accurate."
"How much danger will I be in if I go to warn Art?"
"Enough. I don't want there to be any but that is a possibility."
"Then tell me everything. I'm not risking my life on just you saying that there's a problem. Besides, what can I tell the Senator to convince him if I don't know anything?"
"I do hate it when you become logical."
Cassie waited.
"I think that Lida has more in mind than being a mere vice president. I just recently figured out that she's meeting with someone dangerous. She may have hired him to work for her, just like Art hired me. But he does other things for her."
"Things like—?"
"She ran for president and couldn't make it on her own. She may have decided she doesn't want to wait another four years to try again and possibly fail."
"I don't think I like the way I see this is going."
"Well, she was widowed and became a representative because of that death. I can't believe the idea hasn't occurred to her that Art could die in office." Wynn's voice was calm, but she saw him tighten one hand into a fist. "I can tell she wants to be president. And once I realized Emmanuel was involved..."