Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set (45 page)

Oh, Blondie. I’d almost forgotten about her.

“I’m relieved you’re home.” With his arm around me, he guided me over to the sofa. “How’d it go?”

Sitting down, with my dad’s arm around me, the reality of the day hit me even harder—emotions began pegging me from all sides. “It was scary, Dad. The scumbag was so gross and I had to touch him and his hand was so dry and creepy and all I wanted was to go home, but we had to find her and—”

“Slow down, kiddo. Take deep breaths.” His voice was warm and soothing, always able to chill me out. “The mind reading was successful then?”

I nodded and wiped the tears from my cheeks. “We found her.”

“You did?” He closed his eyes as if he didn’t want to ask the next question. “Is she all right?”

“She was unconscious when we found her. Just lying there in her bright pink jacket, hurt, in the middle of the Sierras. She might’ve died if we hadn’t found her when we did.”

Dad’s face paled. He looked shocked—even more upset than me and he was the calm one.

“Don’t worry, the paramedics told us she should recover soon, and the ambulance took her to Marmaduke Medical Center downtown.” I watched as his face grew whiter by the second. “Dad? She’ll be okay. Those exact words came out of the paramedic’s mouth.”

His mouth moved several times without words coming out. “Were. You.
There?
When they found her?”

Uh-oh. He did not sound happy. “Um, yes?”

The color rushed back into his face immediately, his bony cheeks turning bright red. “They took you with them?”

I gave a helpless gesture. “Well, technically, only Detective Williams took me. Blondie—I mean, Officer Collins got hung up at the station.”

“She WHAT?” He stormed across the room now, his face beet red. “She was supposed to stay with you the entire time!”

I cringed. He’d never yelled like that in all my sixteen years.

“She promised me.” His fists balled and he actually growled. “Escort you to the station. You find out what the guy knows. Then she’d bring you straight home. That was the deal.”

Boy, was he pissed off. No way was I gonna tell him I’d begged to go.

He began pacing in rhythm to his rant. “And for her to leave you alone? Let you go off with some detective I’ve never met? A detective who’d take my sixteen-year-old daughter into the middle of danger?”

Gosh, when he put it like that, the detective did sound pretty irresponsible. I shrank into the couch and tried to appear invisible.

But I wasn’t, because he turned in my direction and his nostrils flared. I honestly didn’t know nostrils could expand that far.

He stormed my way, barreling across the room, then he . . . passed right by me. I waited several seconds before I dared to peer over the back of the sofa.

In the kitchen now, he picked up the phone, and punched the keypad with so much force I thought the numbers would pop in. Natalie? It’s me.”

Natalie? Who was Natalie?

“Call me immediately when you get this. You have some serious explaining to do.”

Was he talking to Blondie? I mean, Officer Collins?

Then, he gripped the phone hard against his ear, leaned on his elbows, and dropped his head. “She’s my daughter, Nat. I can’t believe you’d let her out of your sight for one minute after what I told you. But to send her to a crime scene? What were you thinking? How am I supposed to trust you after this?”

Huh? What’s with the trust issue? Not like we’d see the cops again. He’d promised me once and that was way more than enough for me.

He hung up the phone, then started his deep breathing.

Questions plagued me. What was that phone call all about? Why’d he send me to find that little girl? Did he know that she looked like me? For about two seconds, I debated asking him.

Then, my 4.0 rational brain reminded me this was not the time. Was I really up to his red-faced wrath? Not even a little bit.

As much as I needed answers, they’d have to wait. So, I slipped down the hall, shut myself in my room, and decided to do homework. Faking sick to ditch school hadn’t been all it was cracked up to be. It just put all those problems off for a day. And come tomorrow morning, I’d have to face them.

Chapter Five

When I woke the next morning, I found a note from my dad saying he had to get to work early and he’d talk to me tonight. The coward. So, after a morning ignoring the strange looks from my peers, I settled into my usual seat in Trig class next to Julie.

She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and raised her brows. “Scream at anyone this morning?”

“Ha-ha.” And no, thank goodness.

“We’ll be having a short quiz.” Mr. McKay lifted his pudgy face proudly, gloating that he’d caught us off guard once again. “It will count as ten percent of your final grade.”

“Proud moment for Mr. McKay. He totally gets off on this.” I kept my voice low, leaning over Julie’s desk. I’d fallen asleep last night before I’d finished reading the chapter. What can I say? Saving a girl’s life wiped me out.

But, Mr. McKay didn’t know about my reason for not reading the chapter. Not that he’d care. He didn’t have an understanding bone in his barrel-like body. It figures he’d pull a pop quiz on me today of all days. “This totally sucks.”

Julie nodded. “Any decent teacher would prefer we study for a test. You know, actually learn something. The man needs to get laid.”

I laughed even though I’d never been laid and didn’t get what that’d do for the GPA.

“Is there a problem in the back?” Mr. McKay frowned, the wrinkles in his forehead creating deep crevices.

“No.” Julie sat upright, her expression shifting from annoyed to solemn in one swift movement. What an actress. “No problems at all, sir.”

“Then cut the noise.” Mr. McKay passed a handful of green papers to the students in the front row.

My nerves were raw from the last couple days and Mr. McKay’s controlling attitude pushed me over the edge. Enough of pop quizzes. Catching me off guard with a test was bogus. If he wasn’t going to play by the rules, no reason why I shouldn’t use my new ability to take a peek at that answer key. Right?

I stood, strode to the front of the classroom, and stopped in front of Mr. McKay’s doughboy body. “Actually, sir, Julie and I were just discussing how lucky we are to have such an awesome Trig teacher.”

He raised a skeptical brow.

“I mean it.” I extended my arm, holding my hand out to him. “You really know your stuff. Thanks for being such a killer educator.”

He gave a heavy sigh. Although I was his best student and had a great reputation with the faculty, he looked bored by my compliment. After several awkward seconds, he accepted my outstretched hand. “Thank you, Miss Bates. Now please be seated.”

I gripped his sweaty palm as buzzing coursed up my arm and neck, clear images dancing in my brain. A woman. Long hair, lying in a hospital bed. Then, a casket. A sea of people dressed in black. A soaked handkerchief. A bottle of Jack Daniels. A math test, complete with answer key.

“I said, please be seated, Miss Bates.”

I released his hand and stared at him, his deep frown furrowing those bushy brows. For the first time, I noticed his pea-colored eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red. I glanced down at his left hand where a gold band wrapped around his thick finger. His wife. Oh, crap.

“Do I have to ask you again? With your permission, we’d like to start the quiz.”

“Sorry.” I meant it in more ways than one, hanging my head as I stumbled back to my desk. I hunched over in remorse, and accepted the green paper from the guy in front of me.

“What was that about?” Julie’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, unable to look at her. I’d stooped too low.

She raised her eyebrows and waved a hand in the air. “You’re losing it.”

Julie was closer to the truth than she knew.

****

“I’m so hungry I could eat carbs.” Julie slammed her locker shut, spun the dial, and then we trailed behind the last lingering students who were heading for lunch. We stepped into the courtyard that separated the main building, gym, and cafeteria.

I lowered my head. “Sorry for making you wait.”

“Well, you should be. I mean, what is up with cleaning Mr. McKay’s whiteboards? Is this Kiss Butt Day and I didn’t get the memo?”

“Just trying to be nice.” That, and trying to make-up for invading McKay’s privacy. That was so much worse than giving a pop quiz.

“What-evs,” she said, and then let out a high-pitched squeal when a guy dressed all in black suddenly blocked our path.

He flipped his head, moving his brown hair out of his bright green eyes, and then gave me an intense look. “I need to talk to you.”

My heart thumped, clearly startled, as I stared into Car Wash Guy’s eyes. He looked different with his shirt on, but just as hot. “Trip, right?”

“Yeah.” He seemed surprised I knew his name, but recovered quickly. “It’s top secret.” He glanced at Julie. “No civilians.”

“Maybe some other time.” I moved to my right.

Trip sidestepped me with ease. “Come on, don’t mess around. This is important police business.”

Julie eyed Trip up and down, then put on her best smile. “Do you know this guy, Kylie?”

“Not really.” Hey, it wasn’t like we’d been formally introduced. “Can you get out of my way?”

I fake-lunged to my left, then went right.

Trip blocked me without breaking a sweat.

I threw my hands in the air. “Do you mind? We’re trying to get some lunch.”

“Yeah.” Julie put a hand on her waist, jutted her hip out, and batted her eyes. “And why would we care about police stuff? We’re not taking political science this semester.”

“Five minutes. That’s all I ask.” He raised his palms, and then glanced at Julie. “In private.”

Julie raised her eyebrows, clearly annoyed that Trip hadn’t responded to her flirtation attempt.

I sighed, knowing I’d never get past this gung-ho wanna-be-cop. “Fine, Trip. Two minutes.” I checked my watch. “Starting now.”

Julie shot me a look of annoyance. “I’ll be in the caf. Meet me there when you’re done with your
private
moment.”

I turned to Trip once Julie was out of earshot. “One-minute forty-five seconds.”

He hooked his thumbs on the belt loops of his pants, and his green-eyed gaze cut through me. “They’re letting Bishop go.”

I crossed my arms. “Is it a problem if the bishop goes?” I tilted my head, wondering what the heck we were talking about. “Do you mean chess or religion?”

“Not
a
bishop. Aaron Bishop. The man you . . . talked to yesterday.”

A bomb dropped in my stomach. “How do you know about that?”

Trip’s eyes brightened. “I cracked Sam’s computer code and broke into his personal police notes. I know you’re a mind reader.”

My blood ran cold as I blinked. “You . . . do?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

I don’t know what I’d expected Trip to say, but that wasn’t it. “You know I’m a mind reader and you’re not, um, weirded out by that or anything?”

“Of course not.” Trip looked offended. “It’s completely professional. Lots of stations use psychics to help with tricky cases—”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m
psychic
.”

“—they just keep it under the radar.”

“Huh.” I stared at him. I’d spooked Blondie and Sam, so either Trip was very open-minded or he was a great bluffer. Either way, it was refreshing to have someone talk about it like I was normal. “So, they’re releasing the guy? Bishop? Wait a minute. What if he finds out what I did?”

He held his pinky finger in the air. “One, who’d believe you could read minds through a simple handshake?”

He had a point.

“And two,” his ring finger popped up, “Sam made sure that nobody besides him and Officer Collins knew about your involvement. According to his notes, your dad insisted on that.”

I crossed my arms. “Well, for it being so private,
you
seem to know an awful lot.”

His face lit up. “Thanks. It goes with the territory.”

“That makes me feel better.”

He leaned down, scratched his ankle under his sock, and his black button-up shirt fell open a couple inches. For a split second, I saw his bare chest. A flash of him shirtless, washing Sam’s car, popped into my mind.

My cheeks went hot. “Who’s protecting the little girl we found? Isn’t she in the hospital still?”

He stood up and pulled a small memo pad out of his back pocket, flipping to a middle page. “Amanda? Yep, she’s at Marmaduke Medical Center. I’m sure they have some kind of security there.”

“Amanda.” Finally, the name of the girl who looked like me. Trip may be keeping me from lunch, but at least he was giving me some information, unlike Sam and Blondie. “If Amanda’s at Marmaduke, they probably have her on some patient list to direct phone calls. Anyone could easily find her that way.”

“Have some faith in the Sac P.D. We’re a professional organization. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Laughter erupted across the courtyard as a small group of noisy jocks headed from the gym to the cafeteria where everyone else seemed to be on this chilly Friday afternoon.

My stomach rumbled. Guess eating any time soon wasn’t going to happen. Skipping breakfast turned out to be a big mistake. I turned back to Trip. “Why are you the one talking to me instead of Sam?”

He looked embarrassed. “Sam’s kinda pissed at me right now. For breaking into his notes.”

“No kidding.”

“And he said you’re to stay out of the case from now on.” He kicked the asphalt. “Your dad made Collins promise that before he offered to let you help. Guess he didn’t want to put you in danger.”

“And so you’re talking to me now because . . . ?”

Trip threw his hands in the air. “The girl’s mother said Bishop was an old acquaintance and had threatened her daughter before she disappeared. But it turns out the girl, Amanda, couldn’t ID Bishop in a line-up. He’s gonna get away with kidnapping and attempted murder unless . . . well, I doubt it’d hold up in court, but I’m wondering if you actually saw him when you, you know.”

“Read his mind?” I blinked at him several times as if this were a perfectly normal trait to possess.