Chapter 77
Ben's Story
So this is where you encountered Victor?
I nodded and motioned for Bianca to keep her thoughts silent. We propelled into the barn on Summit, where I rescued Stephanie Carlson. No sense in risking communication, verbal or mental, for Victor to overhear. I could shield my thoughts and stream in only those I wanted to hear, but I wasn’t certain of Bianca’s abilities and couldn’t take a chance.
The dilapidated barn looked the same as it did weeks earlier. We inspected inside and out, circling around the building and house, but no scent was found and no energy was present. I led Bianca to the back of the farm’s property along the river in hopes of picking up the odor. There was none.
We skimmed the water’s edge and headed east toward Kensington’s farm, the barn where I first picked up the sweet cotton candy and green apple scent of a hybrid.
The property was still and quiet. No lights were on in the house. While Kensington typically retired shortly after dark, this was about thirty minutes earlier than normal. His Chevy truck was parked in the driveway and not in the garage. Keys were under the driver’s visor, but it had been at least a day since the engine purred.
I motioned for Bianca to cover me, as I propelled to the house.
Once inside, the bitter sour smell of hybrids overwhelmed my senses. At least a dozen scents mingled in the living room and kitchen of the old farmhouse. Some old, others fresh.
I summoned Jorgenson after clearing the house and confirming its vacancy. “Any new transitionees unaccounted for?” I asked.
“Negative. Not in the US, that is. Why? Wha-da-ya got?”
“Some suspicions. Can you download George Kensington’s file?”
Waves of sound preceded Jorgenson’s confirmation that it was sent. I began streaming critical dates beginning with his life contract. He had three years left before completion. He wouldn’t even exhibit any symptoms. It would be a major heart attack, dead before he hit the ground. But he was not on his deathbed now.
So where was Kensington and why were there so many hybrid scents in his house?
Chapter 78
Emma's Story
I stood alone in the park.
It was the same playground where Mom and Dad took me, a few blocks from my old house in Highland Park. The trees were taller and thicker than I remembered.
Moms pushed preschoolers on the swings. Elementary-aged kids ran across the bridge and spun the steering wheel on the upper deck of the play structure. Children and adults mingled around the grounds, but there was no sign of the man in the wool coat.
He called me here, didn’t he?
Yes, he did. At least, that was what I told myself.
I leaned up against the tree and waited. I didn’t see him or hear him, but when he appeared, I wasn’t startled. His fedora peered around the tree first.
“I’m happy he’s found you, Elizabeth.”
“My name is Emma,” I whispered.
“I know.” He didn’t look at me. He focused on the children on the play set instead.
“If you know my name, why then, do you call me Elizabeth?”
“Do you see that girl with brown pigtails over there?” He nodded toward the child on the wooden bridge.
“Yes.”
“In a minute, she’s going to fall. She will slide under the railing and land on her wrist.”
“What? We must help her!” I started to move, but I felt resistance holding me back. I looked at the man beside me. He wasn’t moving. His hands were tucked into his pockets. It was the same wool coat he wore before.
“Sometimes you know what will happen, but you cannot interfere,” he said, solemnly.
We watched the girl fall from the bridge, as he predicted. I looked at him when the girl’s mother rushed to her side. Other mothers scurried over to help. The girl wasn’t moving, but her screams intensified as her mom touched her arm. I could feel her pain in my own wrist and shuddered at the thought of her injury.
The man in the wool coat glanced in my direction. “It wasn’t her time. Today, she will live. She will live until she reaches thirty-nine years old when she will die in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver. She will leave behind a husband and two children.”
I shook my head. “I do not understand.”
“There are things you are sensing, but you haven’t trusted your instinct.” He looked back at the girl on the ground and the chaos around her. He shook his head, as if listening to another conversation. Raising his right hand, he held it parallel to the ground, palm facing down. He mumbled a few words I couldn’t understand. His eyes were closed, and he nodded. A second later, his hand was back in his pocket and his eyes focused on me.
“She will be fine. Her mother was a bit overwhelmed. She now has the direction she needs.”
I watched the mother lift the girl to her feet and brush her off. She held her child’s hand as if checking for bruising, before the girl ran off to the swings.
“You… you just…”
“Yes, I did.”
“But… wh-who are you?”
“Just remember to trust your instincts. The rest will come. I have good things in store for you, Elizabeth.”
“But what if I don’t want Matt to come back to me?” I blurted quickly, sensing our time together was coming to an end.
He smiled and shook his head. “It is not Matthew that’s been waiting for you. Use your instincts.”
A light fog slowly surrounded us, and he began to fade.
“Wait… don’t go!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” he said, and then vanished.
***
I awoke Monday morning earlier than normal. My dream woke me up, and I found myself unable to fall back to sleep. Aunt Barb was already downstairs. I heard the clinking of plates and guessed she was making breakfast. She was a morning person and even though she often left before I did, she always had a plate of food waiting for me.
After showering, I dressed quickly and found a stack of hot cakes, syrup, and sausage on the island as Aunt Barb read the morning paper. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t need—or want—this much food every morning. I feared it would hurt her feelings.
Instead, I dug in, and thanked her for making it. As usual, she gave me a kiss and headed out before I finished. When she was out of the driveway, I dumped my breakfast in Chester’s bowl. He eagerly devoured my leftovers.
Early mornings at school meant empty halls. I liked this time of day when there was peace and quiet, and no one rushed about. I actually had a chance to think clearly, as I delved headfirst into my locker.
I smelled him before I saw or heard him.
It was a cool and fresh scent, like crisp air I imagined breathing in atop the highest mountain. I turned when I heard Ben’s deep, pleasant voice. He was just inches from me, the closest I had ever been near him. He leaned around the door of my locker with his masculine hand holding the top edge like a shield, separating him from me. His fingernails were perfectly oval and neatly trimmed.
My heart skipped a beat when our eyes met. A gentle smirk flashed across his face.
“Aren’t you supposed to have tons of pictures taped up in your locker?” Ben asked after he swung my locker door open wide and peered inside.
I looked away briefly, trying to contain my smile. My heart skipped again with the realization that he was talking to me, and not to someone else. “I guess I didn’t get around to it yet.”
The hall was quiet, with only a few kids at the other end. We were basically alone.
“I thought you’d have pictures of your boyfriend posted. Matt, is it?” he asked. “I mean, what would he think if he knew you didn’t have his picture plastered up for all of us to see?”
My lips betrayed me, and I grinned. “Um… Matt’s not my boyfriend.” I grabbed my books without looking at him. I was afraid I’d blush.
“Oh.” He hesitated for a second and then cont
inued. “Well, I just wanted to apologize for the other night.”
I glanced up at him.
“I was out of line. You’re free to drink as much as you want. I shouldn’t have said anything… It’s none of my business.”
I stared into his cocoa-brown eyes and reached to close my locker door, but he didn’t move. My fingertips grazed his shirt, and I imagined a rippled stomach underneath. He always looked nice. His deep red shirt complimented his tan skin and dark brown hair. I wanted to touch him, but quickly cleared my thoughts.
We were just friends, if that.
“Thanks,” I said, still holding the door. I felt the blood rush to my face. My stomach felt a little queasy.
“Can we start over?” He extended his hand. I reached for it and nodded.
“Friends.” His grip was firm, yet comfortable, like a good fit. I couldn’t deny how attracted I was to him. I never felt this way about Matt and especially not about Lucas. My cheeks had to be fuchsia. Get control of yourself, I thought.
He smiled, still holding my hand in his.
“So did you finish the homework for calc?” he asked after letting go of my hand.
“Yeah… and you?”
“Pretty easy.”
“I thought so, too.”
He glanced behind me, and then said, “You going to the library for study hall today?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Good. See you later,” he said and left.
Would he really ask if he just wanted to be friends?
Chapter 79
Ben's Story
It was made official Monday morning.
The front page of Westport Gazette featured a photo of George Kensington in the lower right corner. The caption said his daughter reported him missing Sunday afternoon when she found his house vacant, doors unlocked, and a partially eaten sandwich on the table.
According to the article, the police department asked citizens in the area to be on the lookout for the five-foot-eleven inch, eighty-two-year-old man. He had a slender build and thinning, gray hair. “He left his vehicle behind, so he couldn’t have ventured far on foot. He walks with a slight limp,” Detective Neal Crandon was quoted. “Anyone with information is asked to come forward.”
I knew Kensington was in good health, except for arthritis in his joints, but that wasn’t life threatening. His daughter concurred no signs of dementia was ever present and likelihood of him wandering off on his own, on foot, was slim. The police conveniently omitted those facts in hopes of diminishing public fear. I read Detective Crandon’s thoughts when I stopped at the station with the excuse of paying a parking ticket, the day before. I disguised myself as an elderly man and struck up a conversation with the desk sergeant on duty. He divulged more than he probably should have about the case, and I didn’t even have to compel him.
Detective Crandon’s thoughts gave me enough information to know the police suspected foul play, even though he never joined in the conversation.
I spent the better part of Monday sitting in class, but listening to Bianca’s briefings as she dove into the records of all residents in or near Summit Road, where George Kensington lived and where hybrids congregated in the past. Bianca proved to be a good investigator, rather tenacious in probing files and minds of those involved. It was a task I never enjoyed, the tedious footwork of research.
Molly shot me an occasional comment about being bored playing human and kept away from the action of the case, but when I returned images of TJ, Emma, and other friends we’d made, she agreed her protective surveillance services were required at the school.
By the time I reached the cafeteria, Emma was seated at her usual lunch table with Claire and a bunch of girls. Lucas watched her intently, though he never left his dominant post with the rest of his football buddies. Surprisingly, Emma’s thoughts didn’t focus on him. Instead, her mind bounced from classes to friends, to her aunt, dress shopping, and, occasionally, to me.
I overheard her telling Hannah and Claire about my earlier apology after they recapped the original Friday night party scene. A memory I wanted everyone to forget. If they didn’t get past it by the end of the day, I’d have to compel them.
Emma was physically embarrassed, as Hannah asked about Lucas. Her face reddened. She looked around the cafeteria and glanced at me for an instant. Her thoughts traveled back to her locker that morning, though she had no remorse for getting high with Lucas and didn’t tell her friends about her fight with Matt.
I was so busy eavesdropping on teenage drama that I almost missed Bianca’s update on the large farm across from Kensington’s.
The title lists the owner as Henry Nichols, Bianca said. Benjamin? Are you listening?
Yes. Go ahead. Nichols.
But the taxes have been paid by a corporation.
What corporation?
CJ Morse and Company. They’re a farm equipment distributor out of Chicago.
Did you say Nichols? Henry Nichols? I asked as I returned my tray to the cafeteria kitchen window, my lunch uneaten.
Yes.
Can you get a list of everyone on CJ Morse’s payroll?
I can have Jorgenson do it.
Head back to headquarters. You’ll get more accomplished in the office and in less time, I said to Bianca as the bell rang. I’ll meet up with you tonight. I’ve got a soccer game after school, so say nine o’clock?
Bianca agreed.
Looks like you’re making headway. Molly piped in her comments.
Yeah, I think we may have a lead, I answered, following the crowd of students through a set of double doors. My mind circled with memories of eighty years of cases that would take time to sort through.
Well, good luck with what’s next, Molly said.
Whadda ya mean? I turned down a corridor and bumped into Stephanie Carlson.
“Oh! Hey, Ben. I’ve been looking for you,” Stephanie said with a bright smile.
Her arm touched mine, and I sent Molly a nasty remark. By the time Stephanie verbalized her thoughts, I knew she would ask me to the homecoming dance.
“Unless, of course, you have a date already,” she said and then chewed on her lower lip.
Benjamin, say yes. She needs someone right now, and you can’t go without a date, Molly interrupted.
“I thought you and Lucas…” I said to stall and to make Molly nervous.
Really, Benjamin? Molly continued. Don’t be a muppet. That poor girl put herself out there. The least you can do is respond politely. Molly’s British accent surfaced as her frustration level increased.
“No, um… he, ah… well, we broke up,” Stephanie’s cheeks flushed when she spoke. Her thoughts flittered with jealousy toward Emma. “We can go as friends,” Stephanie added before I could reply.
Stop it, Benjamin. Just say yes to that poor girl.
I smiled. “Okay. Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“Great.” Stephanie beamed, and then casually touched my arm. “Sorry for running into you,” she added. “Well… gotta go.”
I nodded. She turned and hustled back to Molly, who conveniently lingered with a few other girls down the hall. Squeals of laughter echoed.
Great. Stephanie Carlson asked me to the dance. Claire chuckled in my thoughts, Molly thanked me, and Jorgenson made snide comments from headquarters.
What did I get myself into?
Chapter 80
Emma's Story
Ben smiled when I walked in.
He was already in the library, in the same chair at the same table in the reserved room as the week before.
I took a seat across from him and smiled back. If only he asked me to the dance instead of Lucas. I pulled out the Hemingway book, A Farewell to Arms, for my report.
“Still reading that?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows.
I nodded, uncertain if he thought I wasn’t a good reader, or if he was just trying to make conversation. “It’s kind of slow moving. You know what I mean?”
/> He chuckled.
“What?”
He shook his head and smirked. “Nothin’.”
“What?” I asked again and reached toward his arm, my fingers barely touching his skin when I realized what I was doing. For some reason, I felt completely comfortable with him.
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” My cheeks felt warm.
“It’s just… Well, I thought you’d love it. That’s all,” he said with a grin. “Sorry. I guessed wrong.”
I shot him a look. I didn’t understand if what he said was a good thing or not.
“It’s a good thing.” He placed his hand on my forearm. “Really.”
I jumped when I heard the squeak of the door as it opened behind me. Ben removed his hand from arm, and his smile turned flat when he greeted Lucas.
“Hey, Ben,” Lucas answered. “Em, I’ve been looking for you.”
I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t do anything wrong. Did I?
Lucas took a seat beside me and dropped his backpack on the floor.
“So, I’ve got early practice and my dad’s working late. Wanna grab a burger? Or something? Later?” Lucas asked in a low tone. It wasn’t quite a whisper, but I could tell he wasn’t trying to broadcast it in front of Ben, either. I wondered if he saw Ben’s hand on my arm when he walked in. I still felt the tingle where Ben touched me.
“Umm… maybe,” I answered, glancing away. Ben went back to reading his book for lit class, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“If you can’t, that’s fine,” he said with sad eyes. “I can always go back to Char’s. I’m sure she’ll find something for me. I mean, you know… she’s got that special bakery she goes to.” His full-blown smile made me laugh.
“Okay, okay. Let me check if Barb minds, though. She usually makes dinner… or has something ordered for us.”
He leaned forward and put his hand on my knee. “Or you can invite me over for dinner.”
My cheeks burned. I was confident they were flaming red. Ben didn’t look up from his book. Thank God. “I’ll see what she says,” I answered.
Lucas winked at me, and then pulled out a textbook and notebook. He ruffled through his backpack, digging deep in its pockets until he found a pencil. He didn’t strike me as a studious football player, but then again, I really didn’t know him.