Endless (22 page)

My first few days at Remington campaign
central were quiet. The same people were there, doing the same
things. I listened to their thoughts, and it made me want to sleep.
Nobody thought about Helene Gamble or even Nick Massler. Heck, most
of them didn’t even think about John Remington.

I had been there a week, volunteering
Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, when Ben Ryan visited the first
time. He blew through the glass front door like a hurricane, wild
and dynamic. His mind was loud, and I nearly winced as he
approached me.

“Hey, everyone, good to see you all working
so hard! John’s going to be very pleased. I can tell you I am.
Chelle here keeps me posted on everything you’re doing. You guys
are gangbusters!” He beamed at us as though he expected a standing
ovation. Instead, we all sat, looking at him, waiting for the next
wave of energy.

He was tall, and his dark hair was buzzed
short and tinged with gray. His gray suit was clearly a superior
cut; he wore it well, and he knew it. There was something about his
eyes that made me uneasy. The confused noise in his mind made it
nearly impossible to get a good read on his thoughts.

“Chelle, you want to introduce me around? Let
me meet the team?” Chelle stepped forward, her dislike hidden
neatly behind a pleasant expression even as her inner monologue
churned.

I watched her move through the room, leading
Ben. They stopped at each desk and Ben made pleasant conversation
with each person. I kept a surreptitiously close eye on them,
trying to zero in on Ben’s thoughts. I picked up an image here and
there, a few random opinions on the people he was meeting, but
nothing concrete.

There were a few more volunteers there that
day, and I was the last chair at the table. Chelle smiled
tightly.

“Ben, this is Tasmyn. She’s a volunteer from
your alma mater. Tas, Ben Ryan. You’ve heard enough about him,
haven’t you?”

I glanced up, smiling automatically, and
extended my hand. Ben hesitated only a fraction of a second before
he gripped it.

“Ah, Perriman, huh? How do you like it? Great
school, right? What are you, a junior?”

“Freshman, actually,” I answered, attempting
to focus on his mind while our hands were still touching. It
sometimes helped to have that contact, but not in this case.

“Ah, great, so you have your whole time there
ahead of you! Awesome. And you’re into politics, huh? Going to help
us take John to the big S?”

It took me a minute to follow his words,
preoccupied as I was with his thoughts. “Oh, the Senate, yes. I
just thought it would be a good way to get my feet wet, maybe get
involved a little. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“Hey, no, thank
you
—you’re the one
driving out here and giving up your free time. Not much fun right
now, I understand, a lot of busy work, but you make sure you come
back next year, when we’re in the thick of it. This place’ll be
hopping, won’t it, Chelle?”

Startled from her own distraction, Chelle
jumped a little. “Oh, yeah, totally. Crazy.”

“Okay, well, nice to meet you, and if there’s
anything we can do to make things easier, any kind of referral or
anything you need, you just say the word.” He moved on, leaving me
behind and going into the small office in the back. He shut the
door behind him without another word to Chelle or me.

She blew out a breath and ran a hand through
her short blonde hair. “So that was Ben. Don’t worry, he doesn’t
come down much. And he doesn’t stay long. I don’t know what John
sees in him. . .” She let her voice trail off, remembering she was
speaking to me. “Sorry. He just rubs me the wrong way sometimes.
He’s good at his job, and that’s why John keeps him around.”

I smiled in acknowledgement of both her words
and what I could hear behind them, even without any special
abilities. “When is John coming back from DC? Does he come in
often?” It seemed to me that being here was a waste of my time
until the congressman was physically in the building. No one in the
campaign office had anything to do with committing a murder, I was
almost positive. I’d spent over a week scanning them all, and even
when Emma introduced the idea of Helene Gamble into their minds,
there was no reaction at all.

“Any day now. The session is over, and he was
just tying up some loose ends.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” I
said.

Chelle winked at me. “You’ll like him. He’s
nothing like Ben.”

As Chelle walked away, I cast a glance over
to Emma, wondering what she thought of Ben Ryan. Her face was
inscrutable, and nothing was coming from her mind.

John Remington did in fact appear at campaign
headquarters the following week. Unlike Ben Ryan, he slipped in
unobtrusively, arriving in the midst of one of our rare busy
afternoons. We were gearing up for a big phone canvassing, and all
the volunteers were on hand.

I heard the door open, but engrossed in my
list of telephone numbers, I didn’t even look up until I heard one
of the admins exclaim in surprise.

“Congressman Remington! Oh my gosh!”

Everyone turned at once, and the man in the
doorway laughed.

“I always did know how to halt all
conversation in the room! Good to see you, everyone.”

Chelle bustled forward. “John! Why didn’t you
tell me you were coming in today?”

He chuckled and folded her into a hug. “I
like to keep you guessing, you know that! Nah, actually I didn’t
know I was until I got up this morning, and then I thought, why
not? Mariana was coming into town to have her hair done, so I
dropped her off and just stopped by.”

I watched the two of them curiously. John
Remington was nothing like I had expected. He had graying dark
blonde hair, warm brown eyes and an easy manner. His aura was one
of ease and warmth, and I could hear his mind with relative
ease.

Quiet here now, look at them all working!
More people to meet. Chelle keeps things running here, she’s a
gem.

Just as she had with Ben, Chelle led
Congressman Remington through the room. All of the hired workers
except Emma and some of the volunteers knew him already, so there
was a good deal of catching up, asking about spouses and children
and other news. By the time he made it to my group working at the
central table, I could tell he was wearing down. Instead of
greeting us individually, he smiled and gave us a group wave.

“How are y’all doing? I appreciate your hard
work. Chelle tells me some of you are here from the college?” He
scanned our faces expectantly.

A few of us raised our hands. Cathryn had
recruited a couple of other volunteers from Perriman so that I
didn’t stand out as the only one there.

“Well, that’s fine.” Rubbing his hands
together, Congressman Remington beamed. “I think I’ll just sit down
and join you here for a minute, if you don’t mind.” He sank into a
chair, and I heard his sigh of relief.

He struck up small talk with the others
around us, and I used the opportunity to sink deeper into his mind.
It was calm and quiet place, and he was easy to read.

Good kids. . .God, am I tired. . .keep the
eyes open, be interested, listen to them, hear them. Conference
call at six. . meet with Ben at dinner. . .pay attention. Engage
them. . .

“So where are you all from? Right around
here?” He fastened those brown eyes on me. “You’ve been quiet down
there, Miss. . .I’m sorry, what was your name? I’m so dang tired,
I’m forgetting everything.”

“It’s Tasmyn Vaughan,” I said. “That’s okay,
I can’t believe you can remember all the names you do.”

He laughed. “Politics, you know. You
practically have to be a mind reader!”

I forced an answering smile, but my stomach
lurched. It was just a chance comment; he couldn’t know anything.
“I guess so.”

“Where did you say you were from, Miss
Vaughan?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but I wasn’t
sure what I should say. Given John Remington’s history with Nick
Massler, my hometown would not be unfamiliar to him. But I couldn’t
very well lie. I’d already told others where I lived. And it didn’t
escape me that this might be just the push the good congressman
needed to think about his former friend. . .and maybe even
murder.

“I moved around quite a bit growing up, but
my family settled in King a few years ago. That’s home now.”

And there it was. That flash, that
recognition and a flare of uneasiness. It showed on his face as
only the slightest twitch near his eye, but the peace of his
thoughts was shattered.

King, that damned place. Why is she here?
What does it mean? Nick. . .no connection. Coincidence.

“King. . .really. Well, I haven’t been down
that way in years. I had a friend who lived there for a time.” All
the while that he spoke, the smile stayed firmly in place.

“It’s a fascinating place,” I answered. Our
eyes held level, and to his credit, Remington didn’t look away.

“That it is,” he agreed. “Quite a history.”
He finally glanced back at Chelle. “Have you been there?”

She shook her head, looking slightly
mystified at the conversation’s turn. Remington nodded. Standing,
he clapped her on the shoulder.

“You should try to go down there one day,
check it out. Intriguing town.” He stifled a yawn and checked his
watch. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a
tiring few days, and I have full evening ahead. I’m going to pick
up the wife and head home.”

There was a buzz in the office for an hour
after the Congressman left. The other volunteers were almost giddy
in their admiration. I forced a smile and played along. As much as
I liked him, I couldn’t help but think the Honorable John Remington
was hiding something. I hoped it wasn’t murder.

The biggest issue I faced in the first few
weeks of working at the Remington campaign headquarters was
boredom. The only minds I heard were Chelle’s and the other
workers, occasional volunteers and sometimes, Ben Ryan. I didn’t
like it when he came in; whether it was a component of his thought
process or his personality, the confusion and noise gave me a
headache.

The congressman popped his head now and then,
but I noticed he gave me a wide berth. I reminded him of King, and
of Nick Massler, and the association was not pleasant.

I dashed into the headquarters on one rainy
Wednesday afternoon, shaking drops off the hood of my jacket. As
soon as I set foot inside, I heard both Ben and the congressman.
They were back in the office, so I couldn’t see them, but they were
having an intense discussion that was broadcasting loudly.

Emma caught my eye as I hung up my slicker.
Good, I thought you’d never get here,
she messaged me
mentally.
Remington and Ryan both on the premises. Might be a
good time to hear something.

I nodded slightly and sat down at my normal
spot. Chelle was on the computer, but I could tell from her
thoughts that she was distracted too, worried about what was going
on in the office. I smiled as I called over to her.

“Anything particular you have for me today,
Chelle?”

She glanced at me, frowning, as though she
couldn’t quite place me. “Oh, Tasmyn. Um, just keep working on that
email database, okay? Confirm addresses, make sure you’re linking
the phone numbers. Thanks.”

I turned on the computer and began the
mindless task. It was perfect work for keeping my ear on the
conversation in the other room.

If Nick gets into the race, I’m screwed. Got
to keep him out of it. What I did. . .do I owe it to him. . .

That was the congressman; I recognized the
calm that was his mind. My eyes glued unseeing to the screen in
front of me, I probed deeper into that calm so that I could hear
both sides of the conversation.

John, you got to be ruthless. If Nick
Massler runs for senate, you’re going to have an uphill battle.
That was Ben.

But his past. . .won’t that be enough to
keep him down?

Not anymore. It’s far enough behind him that
now he has the sympathy vote. People will only remember he raised
his daughter on his own, when his wife got sick. They won’t
remember any of the gory details.

A mix of angst and guilt sputtered through
Remington’s mind. I focused more. . .was I about to hear a
confession?

You leave it me, John. I can take care of
things with Massler. You keep your nose clean.

Remington didn’t answer, but I heard him
thinking.
Too late for that. What I did to Nick. . .it’s too
late to be clean. I’m guilty. . .more than you know, Ben.

My heart pounded. Those were damning words. I
glanced up at Emma, who raised a questioning eyebrow.
Did you
hear something?

I closed my eyes slowly, one verifying blink.
Emma sucked in a breath and nodded so slightly that it was the
merest of head bobs.