Mindspeak (12 page)

He glanced toward my profile as he
drove in silence. I assumed we were headed in the direction of school until I
was sure we weren’t.

Wolfman’s words scrolled through my
head. I wanted to tell Jack about the man at the nursing home, but something
stopped me.

I probably should have been nervous
to be alone with Jack, but what did I care? I had no one. No one who cared
about me. No one to answer to. As far as one of life’s low-points, this was it.

He and his father had been notified
of my father’s death before I was. I was definitely curious about that.

“Thanks for the flowers,” I said,
breaking the thirty-minute silence. “That meant a lot. My Gram loves lilies and
roses.”

Jack pulled the car up to a large
iron gate. Where was he taking me? He reached up and pushed a button on his
visor. The gate opened. We wove along a tree-lined drive. A horse farm, by the looks
of it. I barely made out a couple of horses in the dark behind a black plank
fence.

We pulled up in front of a large
brick house. No, not large. Enormous. Path lights glowed along a walkway
leading to the front door and another leading around to the side of the house.
Though summer was practically over, flowers still decorated window boxes and
flanked either side of the grand, wooden doorway under a small covered
entrance.

“Where are we?”

“Home.”

“Your house?”

He nodded.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You need some sleep. We thought
you would rest better away from school.” There was that authoritative tone again.

“We?”

“Mom, Dad and me.”

“I’m guessing someone from school
must be looking for me.” At least part of me hoped so.

“They know you’re here.”

I met his gaze. “I don’t
understand.”

The whites of his eyes glowed in
the dark. He reached a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. “You’re safe
here. Father says that the police and FBI are working on who wanted your father
dead.”

Jack helped me out of the car and
led the way to the front door.

Once inside, he lit a gas
fireplace. “How about some hot tea?”

“Okay.” I watched him leave the
room. He seemed nervous. Quiet. Distant.

Lately, every time someone claimed
they meant me no harm, or that I was safe, my bubble of security seemed to
deflate slightly.

I ran my hand along the straight
line of the white sofa. Glanced at pictures as I circled the room until I
landed on one picture in particular.

“Father told me that was taken a
year before I was born.”

I traced the outline of my dad’s
shape. He stood next to Dr. DeWeese, who had a full head of wheat-colored hair
at the time. “You look so much like him in this picture,” I observed.

Jack took the picture from my hand
and replaced it with a cup of hot tea.

I took a sip. Soothing chamomile.
The hot flavor of honey slid down my throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anita helped me
with it.” He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “She also prepared a room
for you.”

“Anita?”

“Housekeeper. And my nanny of
sorts.” Something akin to sadness flashed in his eyes.

“Ahhh.” I swallowed another sip,
pondering the questions ping-ponging through my head.

A door closing echoed in the foyer
just beyond the living room. We both turned toward the sound. Dr. DeWeese and a
woman entered the room.

“Oh, you poor dear. John and I have
been so worried about you.” The woman glided toward us. She was dressed in an
expensive-looking suit of reds and oranges. Bleached-blond hair rested
perfectly on her shoulders. Chunky gold jewelry decorated her neck and ears.
She stuck her lip out in a strange pout before her arms stretched wide and
pulled me into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry. Peter was a brilliant man. We
loved him dearly.” She pushed me back, holding me at arms’ length. “How are you
holding up?”

The way-too-long hug and hairspray
that would kill fleas suffocated me. Without answering, I backed away.

“Mom,” Jack said, moving closer and
shaking his head. “Lexi, this is Cathy DeWeese. My mother.” Jack rolled his
eyes and shrugged at the same time, making me feel less guilty about the
first-impression I was forming of the woman who gave him life.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” My voice
was suddenly shy.

“None of this ‘ma’am’ stuff. We are
going to be great friends. Call me Cathy.”

“How are you, Lexi?” Dr. DeWeese
asked. A look of pity dragged his lips downward.

“Confused. Sad. Pissed off.” Yeah,
that about summed it up.

“We are too,” he said. “You can
stay here as long as you need. And come back as often as you like.”

I furrowed my brow and looked from
Dr. DeWeese to Jack. “I really appreciate that, Dr. DeWeese, but…”

Mrs. DeWeese eyed her husband. “Ahh,
honey, she doesn’t know—”

“Mom.” Jack shook his head,
stopping whatever she was about to say.

“I don’t know what?” I asked.

Silence. The three of them traded
glances with enough pity to swallow me whole.

It was Dr. DeWeese who stepped
forward and placed a gentle hand on my elbow. “Let’s sit, Lexi.”

I obeyed, although I was pretty
sure I would erupt in a childish fit any second if these people didn’t stop
tip-toeing around my feelings.

“Your father visited me a week ago.”

“Yes.” I already knew that.

“He was afraid something might
happen to him. He left instructions in case anything did.”

“What do you mean by instructions?”
Had he thought someone would try to kill him?

“Where you are concerned. He wanted
to make sure someone looked after your interests.”

My interests? John, Jack and Cathy
all stared at me. I stretched and recurled my fingers into fists, rubbing them
back and forth along my thighs.

“Your father didn’t want to leave
you abandoned,” Dr. DeWeese continued.

Yeah, well, that’s how it goes
sometimes. The threat of tears stung. “I’m not abandoned. I have my
grandmother. And I’m practically eighteen.”

Dr. DeWeese cleared his throat. “He
left clear written documentation of what to do with you if he were to…”

“Die,” I finished for him. “What to
do with me, you say. You mean where to stick me? Where to tuck away the orphan
child?”

“Oh, dear, what he’s trying to say
is…” Cathy took a step closer.

I leapt to my feet and backed away
from all three of them.

“Just spit it out, will you? Who’s
in charge of me now?”

Dr. DeWeese stood. Looked me
straight in the eye. “I am. It’s only to help you finish your last year of
school, get into The Program, and then college. I only want to help you, Lexi,
to reach your dreams the way your father would want.”

I nodded, pursing my lips. School.
The Program. College. With Dad gone, who now decided what I would study?

“You’ll be a part of our family,”
Cathy said as if I’d just won the lottery.

I angled my head toward her. Then
to Jack, who stood motionless and silent. His eyes locked with mine.

“I’d like to go to bed now,” I whispered.
It was all I could manage at this point.

~~~~

I woke in a dark room. My body was
tangled in a sheet and drenched in sweat. I pulled free from the covers, sat
straight up in bed, and clutched my chest.

An image from my dream of Jack and
me running down a long, white hallway, holding hands, was vivid. I could still
feel the tightness of his fingers around my right hand and the fear of whatever
it was we ran from. The glimmer in his eye when he looked at me in the dream
tugged on my heart, leaving me short of breath.

“What the hell was that?” I
whispered in the still of night.
And where am I?

After inspecting the entire room
with my eyes, I remembered I was in one of the DeWeese’s guest rooms. Then the full
weight of reality sliced through my chest.

Dad was dead.

Dr. DeWeese was my new legal
guardian.

Jack was in the next room over.

I buried my head in my hands. I had
so many questions, and no one to trust with them.

What did it all mean? I massaged my
forehead with the heel of my palm, trying to wipe away the images of Jack from
my dreams.

Deciding I was wide-awake and
starving, I pulled my sweatpants on to accompany the cami I had been sleeping
in—the same clothes I had arrived in, minus the sweatshirt—and went in search
of a kitchen. That couldn’t be too hard to find, could it?

I padded lightly down the stairs.
My hand grazed the banister as I stepped.

Moonlight shone through large
windows along the backside of the house. The DeWeeses lived on a horse farm,
from what I could tell when I arrived, and behind the house was nothing but
darkness this time of night.

I skirted around some chairs in
what appeared to be a sitting area of some sort. The house was eerily quiet.
When I arrived at another open doorway, I had found the kitchen, lit only by a
small dome light over the stove.

As I entered, the kitchen tile felt
cold on my feet. The large windows continued in the kitchen. Next to them, a
door. To the back patio, maybe? Craving fresh air, I walked to it.

My fingers wrapped around the
doorknob.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I whipped around. My hand flew to
my chest. “Shit, Jack. You scared me,” I spit through clenched teeth. How did I
not see him when I entered the kitchen?
Why does he always seem to be
sneaking up on me?

“I wasn’t the one sneaking around
in the middle of the night.” He sat on top of the kitchen island on the other
side of the room. His legs dangled off the edge. A smug smile tugged at the
corners of his lips. “You making a break for it? You might want to rethink
leaving through that door.” He sounded like he was kidding, but it had to look
like I was sneaking out, for sure.

I stood there a few seconds
analyzing him and his words. I’d had enough of others deciding what was best
for me. I turned, grabbed hold of the doorknob, and yanked.

Suddenly, a deafening whirring
noise sounded. I pressed my hands to both ears.
Crap
. Of course the
DeWeeses had an alarm.

Jack pushed off the counter and
jogged to the panel beside the door so he could shut off the stupid alarm. He
then stepped past me, raising a single finger to his lips, and backed out of
the room.

He crossed the sitting area in
record speed. Quick footsteps thumped overhead.

When he got to the stairwell, he
said, “Dad?”

“What set off the alarm?” Dr.
DeWeese asked from upstairs.

“It was just me. Sorry. I was
trying to set a spider free and forgot about the alarm.”

I heard some huffs and puffs,
followed by heavy footsteps and the closing of a door.

Jack returned. “I told you not to
open it.” He chastised me with humor in his eyes.

“You could have said why.” I
crossed my arms, realizing only then that I was wearing a skimpy cami and sweat
pants. It wasn’t like I had a chance to pack a bag for this unplanned
sleepover.

Jack’s face softened. “Couldn’t
sleep?”

I shook my head. Jack’s eyes
shimmered in the dim light. I turned and walked toward the back windows again. “Did
you shut off the alarm? Can I go outside?”

“Yeah, but it’s pretty cool out
tonight. Here.”

Jack lifted his sweatshirt over his
head. Thankfully, he had a t-shirt on underneath.

“Thanks.” I slipped it on. As I
did, Jack’s familiar scent wrapped around me as the fabric brushed against my
face.

“Do you want to be alone?” Jack
asked. “I could come with you.”

Part of me wanted to run away from
this house, from the DeWeeses. From Jack. But another part of me, and maybe an
even bigger part, wanted to know Jack better—to let him in.

Dad had obviously shut Dr. DeWeese
out of his life all those years ago for a reason. Now, I would never know his
reason for getting back in touch.

Anyway, why would that preclude me
from allowing Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome into my lonely life? He raised an eyebrow
while I deliberated. Confusion balled up in my stomach. I barely distinguished
between it and hunger.

“I appreciate that…” The sleeves of
the sweatshirt fell past my hands. I looked up into Jack’s dark, serious eyes. “I
think I’d like to be alone if that’s okay.”

He nodded. Some level of
understanding registered on his face. “How about I find some turkey for a
sandwich while you’re out?”

I nodded. He seemed to know exactly
what I needed at the time I needed it. “I would really like that.”

Outside, I walked along a plank
fence separating me from horse pastures. My eyes adjusted to the light of the
moon, and I could see outlines and shadows of trees and the plank fence in the
distance.

The last few conversations Dad and
I shared replayed over and over in my head. They were the last words he would
ever say to me.

Why would someone kill him? Did it
have something to do with his recent research?

A strange clicking sound disturbed my
thoughts. I searched through two rows of fences where I could just make out a
dark figure that appeared very much like a human form. An orange light around
the figure’s head burned brighter. A cigarette.

I inched up to the fence line and
tried to focus through the planks. Was this figure watching me? Or was it a
stranger out for a midnight stroll, like me? Did someone live close to the
DeWeeses? Or on their farm?

I stepped further along the fence
line. When I looked toward the figure, he walked in the same direction as I, a
field apart. I sped up.

The figure stopped. A small light
of fire fell to the ground in an arch. Then he appeared to get taller as he
climbed the fence and leapt to the ground on the other side and ran toward me.