Listen (Muted Trilogy Book 2) (21 page)

The walk to the bus stop was easy, flat. Jemma got a couple things out to clean up her elbow while they waited, and Jack pulled the phone back out from his pocket. “Jill got home safely last night. She texted.”

“Is it safe to check that from the phone?” Jemma tossed the disinfecting wipe in the trash can next to the bench.

“Neither is linked to us, so it should be okay the once. I’m not sure about as a regular thing. Never really did do any questionable activities using phones.” He was smiling at her again, and Jemma felt her own lips twitch in response.

“Thank you for letting me know she made it home all right,” she sent, finishing the minor first aid on her arm just as the bus pulled up to the stop.

TWENTY-TWO

Meeting

Jemma pulled the cord to indicate it was their stop, holding tight to the pole next to her as the bus came to a halt. Once outside with Jack beside her, she oriented herself as the bus pulled away. “We should be just two blocks from where we need to go. That way.” It wasn’t the tallest building around, but it was still easy to spot from the bus stop, whether by chance or by design. She pointed. “I think it’s that tall, grayish building.”

“Got it.” They reached the front of the building, imposing and very political, and Jemma paused.

“We didn’t really discuss whether we were going to try to go in or whether we’re waiting for him to come out. I mean, it isn’t like there’s only one entrance.” She rubbed her arm until Jack took her hand.

“We can go in and see whether he’ll talk to us. If we give just enough of a hint about why we’re here, maybe he will.” He rubbed his thumb along hers, and Jemma wasn’t sure whether he was broadcasting relaxation or whether she was adjusting to his touch enough to start relaxing automatically. “Or if we can get close enough to try Talking, if your hunch is right and he’s one of us, then I doubt he’d avoid us after that. We’d be able to keep trying then, even if we couldn’t get close, once we’ve made that initial contact.”

She nodded. “That seems worth trying.” She started forward again, her backpack bouncing gently against her back, then stopped. “Security. This is a courthouse. I know we don’t have anything dangerous, but food, clothing, what we’re wearing?” Jemma turned to face him. “We look like runaways or escapees or something. I like that we’ve been anonymous, able to relax a little. What if we set off some sort of search?”

“So we find somewhere safe to leave the bags, and we change into clean clothes.” He made it sound so easy.

“I’m not comfortable leaving the money, and that much cash is going to look wrong if we bring it with us, especially without ID. I don’t even know whether we can get in without ID, but with money on top of it?” Jemma closed her eyes. “I don’t like it.”

“You made a good point, though, about not knowing what exit he’ll use to leave,” sent Jack. “Do we try harder to find his house? I don’t think we’d get a warm welcome if we managed that.”

“No. I think…” She looked at Jack again. “I think we split up.” She looked around, some of her stress leaving when she saw the building across the street. “You’re the people person, so you go inside and see whether you can meet with him. If he says no, stay close enough to figure out which door he’s leaving through or to make contact with him, but without getting arrested or anything like that.”

“And you?” Jack’s hand in hers had stilled.

“I’ll wait in the library, over there.” She nodded. “You come with me, change in one of the restrooms first. I’ll stay there with the bags, and you work your magic.”

Jack let go of Jemma’s hand to run his fingers through his hair. “I don’t like splitting up, but it’s a good plan.”

Jemma started walking toward the crosswalk. “It’s a big building, too. Not that size is everything.” She ignored Jack’s surge of badly suppressed, shared-anyway amusement. “They should have periodicals, more local news, and I can keep checking up on the senator while you try to meet with him. I doubt it’ll be quick, if you do get to see him.”

“We’ve got a few hours before the offices close. Maybe two, if they leave early since it’s Friday.”

“I’ll look into places for us to stay for the weekend in case this doesn’t work out,” sent Jemma. “You take the phone since I’ll have the laptops, and the library should have WiFi.”

The light changed, and they crossed the street, Jemma taking the lead again as they entered the library. She led them through the spacious atrium and into a reading room without being stopped.

“This table looks like a good spot to wait.” Jemma would be able to see anyone coming in or out of the room, and she should be relatively undisturbed. “You can go ahead and get cleaned up while I check out the periodicals. If I get through the newspapers while you’re still across the street, there’s plenty in this room to keep me occupied.” Jack, rather than moving toward the bathroom, was still grinning at her. “What?”

He shook his head. “You’re in your comfort zone again. Close enough, at least, to bring out the bossy librarian.” He seemed to see uncertainty flicker across her face as she tried to decipher the intent behind his words. “That’s a compliment. I like it when you’re comfortable, whatever it takes to make you that way.” He reached out to squeeze her hand, then walked toward the restrooms.

Seeking out the magazines and periodicals, Jemma was pleased to see a wide selection. She chose several local publications, as well as a couple national ones, stopping before she had enough to draw attention. By the time she got back to the table, Jack was setting his backpack down under it. “You look much more presentable,” Jemma noted. “Maybe I should change before you leave. Do we have time?”

He glanced at the clock. “Some.”

“I can be quick,” she sent, setting down the papers and trotting toward the restroom. She changed as quickly as she could, sparing a glance to make sure she hadn’t gathered too much dust and dirt since her last mirror check, and she rejoined Jack. “All right. Go find out if the senator is our man or not. And be safe.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezed her hand once more before leaving the room, and Jemma made herself comfortable at the table, sorting the papers into the order she planned to read them, starting with a paper that featured a short article on the senator on the front page.

Working with Senator Myles

Maybe you can’t picture a United States senator spending his weekend working to rebuild homes not too far from where he grew up, but that’s what Senator Myles Pratt spent his weekend doing.

Arriving before most of the crew, Pratt refused the standard photo op, instead choosing the more demanding and dirty tasks, taking the shortest breaks, and being one of the last to leave.

Once a regular volunteer with Habitat for Humanity, the senator now works to restore homes in impoverished areas, working with groups who aim to keep people in their homes now that so many have been abandoned. Insulation is improved to reduce heating and cooling costs, roofs are replaced, major repairs are done, all at little or no cost to the homeowner. It’s rumored that he also contributes to the cost financially, but of course, the biggest donations are anonymous.

When asked for a quote, Pratt wrote, “Anything I say is going to take attention from the cause and put it on me instead. How about putting down the phone and picking up a hammer?”

Though my shoulders regret the fact that I took his advice, the work was certainly rewarding, and I encourage you to do the same. After all, you may catch a glimpse of our illustrious local senator in the process.

— Thomas Larkson

Jemma caught herself nibbling the corner of her thumbnail. She stopped, turning the page to browse the rest of the paper, pausing when she felt gentle pressure along her connection with Jack. “I made it through security, no real issues.”

“Were there fake issues?”

“They do random ID checks. Since I didn’t have any weapons, said I was there for moral support and had forgotten my wallet, they let it slide. I’m on my way up to Pratt’s office.”

“All right. The most recent article about him makes him sound like a decent guy. He might be willing to see you, even if he’s busy.”

“We’ll know soon enough.” Jack let the connection dim, and Jemma turned her attention back to the paper in front of her. There was nothing else noteworthy in the first paper, so she continued leafing through them until the next update from Jack, reminding herself to keep her face expressionless as she Talked to him, bringing a larger paper up in front of her, just in case. “There’s a secretary who works for any visiting politicians. I guess he isn’t the only one who works from this building part time. She says he’s not seeing anybody today, but she did confirm he’s in. I said I would wait. She didn’t like that too much, but she didn’t argue and doesn’t seem to have called security.”

“Will she give him a message for you if you put one together?” sent Jemma.

“I’m not sure. Want to help draft one? I’ll grab my pen and paper.”

Jemma got hers as well; she would be able to think through a message more effectively that way. She tapped the pen against her lips a couple of times. “We don’t want to come right out and say it unless we have to, right? Not where somebody else could see. We could try an acrostic, but that still doesn’t let us feel him out before committing. We can let him know the topic, at least, and see whether he bites?”

“See whether he’ll talk if we let him know it’s about telepathy?”

“Right. How about saying that you’d like to discuss his point of view on the applications of telepathy? Anyone unable to Talk to those outside of family wouldn’t have an idea of many applications.”

“Okay, I’ll see whether the secretary will pass that along. Thanks.” The connection dimmed again, and Jemma set down the pen, taking in a deep breath and looking around.

Being back in a library, even one so visually, architecturally different from her own, it was somehow both relaxing and stimulating. Jack was right. This was her comfort zone, even if it wasn’t her library, even if it wasn’t her ideal situation.

She turned her attention back to the newspapers, finding a few more fluff pieces on the senator before she finally found a political piece on him, but it held nothing that seemed relevant to their situation, only his party affiliation and the fact that he consistently voted for the causes he publicly supported.

The guy still seemed almost too good to be true. Jack should be safe in the well-guarded building, one where nobody was expecting them, so even if Pratt turned out to be a fake, even if, worst case, he was actively working for those who had captured them, Jack should be able to leave unharmed.

She hoped.

Jemma folded the newspapers she’d already been through, setting them aside in alphabetical order at the corner of the table, then walked around the room, running her fingers along the spines of the books, straightening the few that had been pushed back from the edge. Nobody else was in the room, and she kept the door in her peripheral vision, ready to return to the backpacks if anyone entered. This particular reading room held the historical volumes, local texts covering centuries. Nothing was recent enough to be relevant to her current search, so once she felt in control of herself again, in control of her worry for Jack, who she could feel was still at the other end of their connection, she returned to searching the newspapers.

“He won’t see me,” sent Jack, finally. “It took him a while to decide or it took him a while to read the message. I can’t tell which. I know which office is his now, though. I don’t think trying to run in is a good idea, but I can see whether I can Talk to him from the door, and I can see what exits are closest. He can’t be here much longer. The business day is all but over. People are already leaving.”

“Just be careful.” Jemma pulled the laptop from her backpack. If he wasn’t able to find a way to Talk to the senator, they were going to need to find a place to sleep. The park plan had failed even in a place they were familiar with, so she started out with a search for local hotels, ones that were cheap enough that they could stay through the weekend and that might not look too closely at them if they didn’t have ID. This city was bigger than home and might have more options that would fall into that category. She’d barely started the search when she felt a mental nudge from Jack.

“He’s leaving. I haven’t been able to Talk to him, but I haven’t gotten very close, either. It looks like he’s going out an exit to the east of the main entrance. Meet me there.”

Jemma sent a surge of acknowledgment, put away her laptop, donned her backpack and slung Jack’s over one shoulder. With a wince at the newspapers she was leaving on the table of the reading room, she left.

TWENTY-THREE

Binding

Jemma didn’t see anyone exiting the building where Jack had described, so she made her way to the nearest parking lot on that side. As she rounded the corner, she saw Jack holding up his hands apologetically. The man in front of him, Senator Pratt, looked surprised, but not threatening. His eyes flickered from Jack to Jemma, then back again.