Why Me?

by Treva Harte

  His mother had tried to tell him to be careful how he used his gift. But that had been so long ago that sometimes he got confused or didn't remember everything. He'd blanked out so much after she left. What he remembered he'd tried to live up to. Mostly. As soon as he understood what she meant. But he'd never thought of this.

  He was an idiot. And more like his Da than he should be.

  "No. It's all right, Wynn."

  Cassie was looking at him and he remembered again that she could hear his thoughts.

  He couldn't remember when he'd last felt quite so awkward.

  *Really, Wynn. I'm getting pretty good at this. And now it's sort of fun.*

  She touched his cheek. He almost flinched. People usually didn't touch him at all except for a handshake or maybe a slap on the back.

  "Are you all right?" Cassie looked concerned.

  "Yeah."

  He wished her touch hadn't been meant casually. He hadn't been with anyone for a long time. But, no, that wasn't what he wanted exactly. He didn't need just anyone's touch. He wanted to be with a particular someone right now. He wanted Cassie and no one else. Strange. He couldn't remember ever feeling that way before.

  Wynn closed off the thought. No. He didn't have time for a need like that now.

  "You had a phone call." Wynn finally remembered why he'd shown up in her bedroom in the first place. "Emma? No, an Emily called."

  "Really?" Cassie bounded off the bed so fast that she got a little dizzy when she stood up. "She's waiting to talk to me?"

  "She left a number." Wynn shoved the paper with a number at her and watched while Cassie ran for the telephone.

  "Emily?"

  "Cass? I've been working but then you didn't call and I figured I better check on you!"

  "I'm glad you did." Cassie hesitated. How do you ask someone for advice about a person who is standing in front of you? "How are you?"

  Fortunately Wynn wasn't Ned. He began to back out of the room but he mouthed, "You need to get ready."

  * * * * *

  Cassie didn't look like she was paying attention. She looked engrossed in conversation with this Emily. Wynn scowled. Cassie never did look like she paid attention.

  He hoped she would. He hoped she would manage to look all right. They needed to pull this off. And then, for all kinds of reasons, he needed to get out her life.

  "Don't push me." Cassie covered the telephone as she spoke to him. "I've already gone through a lot for this."

  "Right."

  "I had to contact my stepmother for the second time in a week for help! Believe me, that's a lot!"

  Cassie's headache throbbed again as she remembered.

  "You want me to contact someone so that you can see Senator Hornsby?" Natasha's eyebrows raised slightly. She did the eyebrow thing really well.

  "You and Dad are the only ones I know who could get me access to the Senator on short notice." Cassie spaced her words evenly.

  "And why do you need to see him on short notice?"

  "There's—there's this guy I met who works for the Senator." Cassie had really had to think about this one. Everyone in her family knew how little she cared about politics.

  "Yes?"

  "He told me about what a huge supporter Sen. Hornsby is for the environment. And—well, I just won a little money from the lottery and thought I could donate some."

  "Cassie, darling! You don't still play the lottery, do you?"

  "Well, just sometimes."

  "This is so typical. You finally win a little money back from all you waste and then you go and fling it upon some ridiculous liberal political hack! I suppose I should be grateful you don't donate to some Third World organization."

  "Well, that was my second choice." Cassie couldn't help it. Tash always pushed her buttons. "If you can't help me with this, I probably will."

  Her stepmother sighed. But Cassie could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. A donation to a political figure had to be more useful in her scheme of things than a donation to some poor country.

  "I'll see what I can do." Tash then looked at her. "And how did the visit go?"

  "Huh?"

  "The visit with the psychiatrist."

  "Oh. Oh. Um. OK. I guess." Cassie's brain scrambled for a minute. "No one will tell me, of course. That's between the doctor and patient."

  "Yes. Yes, of course. Cassie—"

  "What?"

  "Never mind. I'll see what I can do." But Tash didn't sound happy about things.

  Cassie turned her back on Wynn as she began to concentrate on this new, hopefully more enjoyable phone conversation. She barely heard the click as he shut the bedroom door.

  "What's going on, Cassie? Have you heard anything I've said for the past two minutes or so?"

  "Not exactly. Listen, Em. The situation has changed. The good news is that I'm not crazy. No more than usual. But now let me tell you the bad news. Well, as much as I can safely tell you. Oh yeah. I also need some more advice on how to dress."

  * * * * *

  "Do I look all right?" Cassie bit her lower lip.

  Wynn studied her carefully. She straightened her posture and tried to look assertive. She used to be good at that, back a million years ago. Wearing her best old power suit was reminding her of then.

  She didn't like remembering what she was like then.

  "You look—" he bit off the word he wanted to use and blocked his mind.

  She looked endearing. She looked like a kitten trying to be a tiger. She looked like easy prey if anyone wanted to pounce.

  "You look fine." He finished the sentence.

  She did look fine. She was dressed perfectly correctly, just the way a visitor to a presidential candidate should look.

  But she also looked vulnerable with her eyes fixed anxiously on him, waiting for him to pronounce judgment on how she was dressed. Why was she worried about his opinion? She shouldn't have to worry.

  He held her by the elbow, escorting her, as they got in the car.

  "Maybe I should do this." Wynn said the words before he could think too much about why he was changing his mind.

  Cassie stared at Wynn.

  Cassie couldn't tell Emily everything, of course, but what she had said had been more than enough. Emily had told her not to get involved in any man's problems. Of course Emily had her own reasons to say that. No one would feel too good about men if you had four little kids and no husband around.

  Now Wynn was telling her the same thing. She probably ought to take their advice.

  Cassie was bad at taking advice she didn't want to hear.

  "Wait a minute. You're the one who got me into this because you absolutely can't be seen walking into Senator Hornsby's office any more. You know you'll be spied on, or stopped before you get to him and then followed and taken away. These guys tried to get you at your house already, right? You know that if Emmanuel ever sees who you are he'll get the word to Art that you're a telepath and you'll be thrown out. That's what you've told me. You've spent hours convincing me that I'm needed to thwart the bad guys. Now you say you should do this?"

  "I could disguise myself."

  "Like the Secret Service or Art's guards couldn't spot you? Don't start with me, Wynn. I didn't dress up like Little Ms. Executive to be told you think I can't do the job. Listen, it was hard enough to come up with a reason for an appointment with the senator. Don't change the plan on me now."

  "Yes, but—" Wynn didn't like this feeling. Maybe that was why he never liked working with other people. He never knew how to handle them. He'd been feeling very confused ever since this morning.

  Cassie looked like she was going to yell at him but then she stopped and suddenly smiled at him. He liked her smile.

  "Hey, wait a minute. You're worried, aren't you? About me. That's—that's sweet, Wynn."

  "Bloody hell." He wasn't sweet and he was never worried about other people. Let them take care of themselves.

  "Thanks. I should be insulted, but—thanks." Cassi
e suddenly gave him a hug.

  For just a second Wynn was tempted to hang onto her. He let the feeling pass. Almost. He could still feel a little itch of temptation to show her what a real, serious bit of physical contact was all about. Instead he grunted and started the BMW.

  He was crazy. This whole thing was getting to him. Or maybe the prospect of danger was getting him horny. Maybe that was what was bothering him so much about Cassie. Of course. Sometimes adrenaline did that to him.

  Wynn thought it over and decided he might do something about that itch. After all, Cassie was attractive, especially when she cleaned up. She could grow on a man. Maybe he wouldn't leave immediately. He might just explore some possibilities. Later. When they were safe.

  Or maybe he wouldn't. He might not even get the chance to try. He knew how women acted around him once they got to know him better. And he had said he was going to get out of her life as soon as possible.

  "There won't be any place to park anywhere near but I'll circle the Capitol. I won't be more than ten minutes away, I swear."

  "OK." Cassie's smile was still sweet and focused on him. Then she straightened up and stopped smiling. "Well, let's get this over with."

  "All right. Let's." Wynn shoved aside the stupid last minute urge to keep Cassie far away from this mess and concentrated on getting out of the driveway. They had to do this.

  * * * * *

  "Thanks for letting me see you, Senator." Cassie kept herself from wiping her hands on her skirt. She stopped herself from fiddling with the pearls. She stared hard at her folded hands.

  "Anyone who is interested in my contributions to the environment is more than welcome to my time, Ms...."

  "Majors. Cassidy Majors." Wynn had wanted her to have an alias, but Cassie couldn't come up with any plausible reason to tell Tasha to do that for her. Besides, once again, using the Cassidy name meant something. Tash had gotten her an appointment in just a few days.

  Cassie wondered if there had been the slightest emphasis on the word contribution when Art—the Senator—spoke to her. If so it was hard to tell. He was being pretty subtle about why he had agreed to see her. Oh God. Maybe he wasn't interested. What had Tash said to him? Or had she even spoke to the senator? Maybe the secretary had mangled the message when she delivered it to him.

  Cassie fought panic. His interest or lack of interest didn't matter. He had agreed to talk to her for some reason. Money was one very good reason why the Cassidy name got people access to places. That had to be why she had made it here. Art didn't know that she didn't have any of that Cassidy money.

  Besides, all he needed to do was be just interested enough to listen for a few more moments.

  "Yes. My friend, Horace Jones, told me what a strong supporter you are." That was the name that Wynn had told her was their code.

  Art Hornsby's face didn't change. But he did lean back to study her a little more carefully.

  "Yes. Horace. I haven't heard from him for a while."

  "He's wanted to contact you. But he's been prevented. So he told me to be sure to mention his name to you. He hasn't forgotten you at all, believe me." Cassie felt like someone in a bad spy movie. "Anyhow. I would like to just write down how much I would like to contribute to your campaign. Tell me if this would be helpful."

  She quickly wrote: WATCH OUT FOR LIDA. HORACE WILL BE IN TOUCH BY E-MAIL. USUAL TIME. DELETE EVERYTHING. DANGER.

  "That would be generous, Ms. Majors." The Senator casually picked up the paper and crumpled it up before he put it in his pocket.

  "I know how busy you are, sir. I won't take up much more of your time. But I hope we can see each other again and talk over our mutual concerns." Cassie hoped that sounded like what a real contributor might say.

  "I'd be happy to invite you to some of our functions, Ms. Majors. And thank you."

  "You're very welcome."

  Cassie stood up, smiled as nicely as she could—thinking of professional shrink smiles compared to professional politician smiles and how hers compared to them both—and left.

  * * * * *

  Art Hornsby stared for a long moment at the door after the woman left. Then he made his decision and picked up the telephone.

  "Hey, Jock. I had a potential security risk in here. Tail her."

  He settled back in the chair. He knew he didn't need to say any more. Jock was a damned good security officer and had been taking care of him for years. He trusted Jock more than the Secret Service detail that had recently been given to him. Jock would be quiet if he asked him to be.

  Something fishy was going on. Who was that woman? And where the hell was Wynn anyhow? That fellow was too damn elusive for Art's taste.

  Then the pain that he had carefully contained burst. He sat down, heavily, in the chair. Lida. His perfect woman. What was wrong with Lida? Did he have to question her, too? Or was something going to happen to her? Had he put her in danger somehow? Either possibility hurt.

  His face hardened. There was at least one or two other possibilities to consider. Was this message the truth? Was someone using Wynn? Or was Wynn using him? He'd known Harmon for a far shorter period of time than he had Lida. Whatever the hell was going on, Jock better find that woman and get some more answers than he had now.

  * * * * *

  "I think it went OK." Cassie wanted to giggle as she hopped into the car. She would have wondered how Wynn had known to drive up just when she needed him except that she had signaled for him. This mind reading stuff could be awfully useful. Too bad cab drivers didn't respond to telepathy. "I know he paid attention."

  "God, I hope he understood." Wynn concentrated on the traffic before pulling back out. "He isn't a stupid man but this situation is a little...unusual."

  "I think I made it clear enough."

  Maybe it was because she was so busy congratulating herself on a job well-done that his next move stunned her. He suddenly pulled her hard against him.

  Before she could react, he gave her a very warm kiss. His mouth was just the way she'd imagined. Tasty. Exciting. She had wondered if she'd like kissing him. She did. Yes, indeed she did. Once she got over her amazement, Cassie tried to deepen that kiss. Mmm. Tasty, exciting and—over. Just as abruptly as when he had pulled her against him, he pushed himself away.

  What happened? Cassie stared, trying to recover.

  "I'm very glad you got out of there." Wynn didn't say any more as he pulled the car smoothly away from the curb.

  Cassie thought about that. He'd given her a great kiss because he was relieved? Naw. He had to have some other reason besides that.

  Cassie opened her mouth to say something, anything, but then realized something else. "Hey! You missed our exit."

  "No, I didn't."

  "We take 66 out of here—hey! Wynn! I thought you knew this area."

  "Like the back of my hand. And so does the driver following us."

  "Oh, man." Cassie shut up. Sort of. How had Wynn managed to give kisses and keep an eye out for someone tailing them?

  *Where're we going?*

  *Not to your house, that's for damned sure. At least not now.*

  Cassie hugged her knees. Weaving through Dumont Circle and heading for Georgetown didn't seem like a smart idea. Then Wynn doubled back. They were somewhere near Foggy Bottom—she thought, though she wasn't sure herself now—when Wynn suddenly made a sharp turn into an underground parking garage.

  He hastily gave the keys to the attendant and almost pulled her out of the BMW.

  "I think we've lost them for a bit." He fastened his sunglasses on his face and walked them out fast.

  "Now what?" Cassie's legs began to ache from trying to keep stride.

  "Now this." Wynn made another quick turn and then they were hurrying down the Metro escalator. "If we've lost them for just long enough, they won't be able to follow this."

  "But—"

  "I hope you weren't too attached to that car, Cassie."

  Cassie thought about all the money and time and effort it
had taken to get and keep her precious car. She damn well was attached to that car.

  "Maybe we can pick it up from whatever impound lot they tow it to. In a few weeks. If all this is over." Wynn glanced her way and then shoved his newly bought Metro ticket into the turnstile. "I'm sorry, Cass."

  Cassie swallowed and followed him into the city subway system. There had to be some way out of this. Wynn had to be wrong.

  Gone. Her precious car.

  *Bloody hell, that's better than your life! We can't go back. They'll be looking for us. You'd better hope they don't find the damned car and trace it back to you.*

  "But you switched the numbers on the license plate," Cassie reminded him.

  "I know. But if they look that hard they'll know some of the numbers were tampered with. They'll be able to figure out what it said originally. Bloody hell. We should get out of the area for a while. That was too close."

  She slumped into the seat, too dispirited to do more.

  She could see Wynn, for all his relaxed slouch in the Metro seat, was keeping an eye out for who entered the car. Fine. Let him keep watch. He was the one who had gotten her into this.

  Suddenly she wanted to make him as unhappy as she was.

  "You run away really well, Harmon. Running doesn't seem to bother you. Some of us like to stick around for our jobs and our houses and things like that."

  Cassie didn't even try to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  "You've lost a car. For a while. Do you want to lose more important things?" Wynn kept his voice low and not too unpleasant. Still, Cassie shivered. The anger was oozing out of her, leaving just the unhappiness. "I've run most of my life, yes. And I've stayed whole and alive. You'd do well to follow my example."

  *I spent a lot of time running in the past, too, Wynn. I like it better when I can stay somewhere for awhile.*