Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (48 page)

“It’s well documented that felines are drawn to the sound of constipation,” I said, making her laugh again. The white cat let her rub behind his ears, and then lost interest and wandered off.

“So how’d Jameson recover so quickly?” she asked, standing up and raising her chin to look right at me. In the sunlight, I noticed how long the lashes were on her good eye. “When we stopped by your room he sounded like he was dying and then fifteen minutes later when you came down to breakfast he was fine. I couldn’t believe the transformation.”

“What do you think happened?” I asked, curious.

She tapped her chin. “I actually do have a theory.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you healed him.”

I felt the corners of my mouth pull up even as I tried not to smile. “Maybe.”

“I knew it! You used your powers to heal him.” Her voice was jubilant at having guessed correctly. “You did that thing with putting your hands on him and sucking all the bad stuff out of him, or making the cells regenerate or whatever it is you do.”

“Something like that.” I didn’t tell her this, but it hadn’t even occurred to me to try to heal him until we were late for breakfast because Jameson was still kneeling over the toilet bowl. I wasn’t sure if I could actually fix him—being hung-over was closer to being poisoned than it was to being sick or injured, but I figured I would at least try. I hated to do a favor for my arch nemesis, but afterwards, knowing that Jameson owed me big time made it all worthwhile.

Nadia grinned. “Ha! I love it when I’m right.” She did a little dance step of happiness. “So was he grateful?”

“Eh.” I held my hand out and gave it a shake. “He was grateful-ish. You know Jameson. He doesn’t like to give other people too much credit.” I shook my head, remembering. It had killed Jameson to have to thank me, and he tried to be so cool, acting like it was no big deal, but his face gave it away. I’d impressed him.

In the elevator afterward he’d said, “Your voodoo might come in handy when I go off to college next year.” And then he started talking about college and keg parties and how if I was nearby, I could be his own personal servant slash hangover-curer.

I’d been confused. “Aren’t you my age?” I asked. “How can you be going to college next year?” And he’d explained that he’d already finished high school and was taking university level courses online. That he could already be attending college except his parents wouldn’t let him because they needed his help at home with homeschooling his younger brothers. But that soon he would be gone, out of there. He was, he informed me, a genius at electronics and tech stuff, and he’d already invented surveillance equipment that surpassed anything that anyone else on the planet had ever done. “If I patented it,” he’d said. “I’d be a millionaire.”

“So patent it,” I’d said.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for the right time,” he said.

“When’s the right time?”

“Yet to be decided, young Russell. I’ll know when I know.”

Sure. “Did you bring it with you? Can I see it?”

“No,” Jameson said. “That would have been way too risky.”

Let’s just say I had my doubts. Anyone can say anything, but that doesn’t make it the truth. And the biggest liars are usually the most confident, so you never can tell. Well, Nadia would have been able to tell if Jameson was lying. That was her specialty. But she wasn’t there at the time.

Right before the elevator opened, Jameson had turned all serious. “You can’t tell anyone about my surveillance invention. Swear to me you won’t tell anyone.” Like we were in grade school. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone and offered to do a blood oath to prove it, but he wasn’t amused.

And then when we got off the elevator he’d lingered at the concierge desk to look at brochures and told me to go on ahead of him. My guess is that he wanted to make an entrance into breakfast by himself, but who knows with that guy. He’s weird.

Nadia interrupted my thoughts. “Well he should be really grateful. All of us would probably be going home if not for you.”

Walking through the park, we approached a young couple nearly reclined on a bench. Teenagers or maybe a little older. They both had glossy black hair and latte-colored skin, and they were as close to having sex in public as I’d ever seen. Lip-locked and limb-entangled, their hands tucked under each other’s shirts, their moans punctuated by heavy breathing. I wanted to look away, but my eyes wouldn’t leave. I wondered how far they would take it. Without realizing it, I’d slowed my pace to gape. I couldn’t believe their lack of inhibition right here, out in the open. What must it be like? I was envious. I wanted to inhabit his body, taste the kisses, feel the flesh.

Nadia couldn’t help but notice them too. “Talk about a public display of affection,” she said, slipping her hand in the crook of my elbow and pulling me along. I’d been trying not to touch Nadia on this trip, even avoiding getting too close to her. I found it unnerving that she could pick up on my emotions and sort through what I said versus what I meant. I don’t lie, usually, but being so exposed was weird. If I pulled away now, she’d definitely know something was going on. I tried to take my mind off what the couple was doing so Nadia wouldn’t sense what I was feeling. So embarrassing. To distract myself I thought of neutral, non-sexual things: my nephew Frank, getting my teeth cleaned at the dentist, my locker combination.

“If I knew Spanish, I’d tell them to get a room,” she said, picking up the conversation again when we were out of earshot.

I glanced back. They were still going at it. In a minute, he’d be on top of her. “I think if we’re looking for members of the Associates, we can rule them out,” I said.

“Not so fast. Maybe she’s an Associate and she’s searching him for weapons. She thought his mouth would be a good starting point,” Nadia said, and just like that, she made me laugh. “I can’t get a good look at them but I don’t think either one fits the updated description of David Hofstetter.”

I had almost forgotten about our reason for coming here. It was the first of the three locations on the map Gordy Hofstetter gave me. We were in search of his grandson David, or barring that, looking for evidence that pointed to him. I scanned the park, but besides the presence of cats and the horny couple, nothing was out of the ordinary. It was just a city park filled with people walking and relaxing, kids playing. In one corner, a maintenance man was watering a bed of flowers. “I don’t see anything suspicious, do you?” I asked.

“No, I’ve got nothing. Let’s sit down for a few minutes.” Nadia gestured to an empty bench. We sat and stretched our legs out in front of us. Off in the distance to our left, I saw Jameson walking around the perimeter of the Rotunda like he was on a tightrope, showing off for Mallory. Nadia followed my gaze.

“What a tool,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s a tool,” she said, “but there’s a lot of insecurity underneath it all. He’s not too bad, really.”

We sat there side by side, making small talk about the cats and the weather. I was so tempted to ask why she stopped astral projecting to me—did I say something wrong? Did she see me do something weird? But I just couldn’t get the words out. What if she did see me do something embarrassing? Did I really want to know?

We were both paying attention to a long-haired white cat, when Mrs. Whitehouse approached, her face red from exertion, her purse half off her shoulder. “You two,” she said, loudly. “Sitting down on the job?” Her voice had an accusatory tone.

“Just for a minute,” I said. And then more quietly, “We’re keeping our eyes open though.”

“Hmmm,” she said, her eyes narrowing into slits. “You keep on watching, then. I need to have a word with Nadia.” She reached down and pulled Nadia up by one arm, jerking her roughly to her feet.

“Hey, easy,” I said, standing up reflexively.

“Stay out of this,” Mrs. Whitehouse said. “We need to speak privately. Girl talk.”

“It’s okay, Russ,” Nadia said. “I’ll be right back.”

I watched as Mrs. Whitehouse half dragged her down the path, stopping about thirty feet away. She towered over little Nadia, who looked elf-like with her face hidden in the shadows of her hood.

Nadia

As Mrs. Whitehouse pulled me down the walkway, I saw Russ’s face redden in anger. He took a step in our direction and I held my hand out to stop him. I wanted to hear what she had to say and I didn’t think she’d talk with him around.

She maneuvered us off the path and onto the adjacent grass next to a trash can, before letting go of my arm. “What’s going on?” I asked. Before I’d thought of her as the nerd of the group, annoying but harmless, but the fury on her face made me see she was capable of far more than I’d given her credit for.

She unzipped her purse and pulled out the death threat rock, the paper still attached. “This look familiar?” she asked, pushing it in my face. Before I could answer she said, “What’s the big idea?”

I stared blankly.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know about this,” Mrs. Whitehouse said. “I know you put it by my door last night. I heard you out there, scurrying like a little rat in the night. I heard your door close, that’s how I knew it was you.”

“It wasn’t me,” I protested. “Mallory put it by your door. Someone planted it in Russ and Jameson’s room. We found it and didn’t know what to do about it. We figured you’d know.”

“This doesn’t scare me, if that’s what you were trying to do.” She pulled the paper off and tossed the rock into the trash can. It landed with a resounding clunk. “I’m tired of being the brunt of practical jokes. I will not be jerked around, you understand?” She made a show of ripping the paper into bits and dropping them into the garbage.

“It’s not a joke,” I said. “It’s real. It showed up in the guys’ room last night and we didn’t know what to do about it, so Mallory put it by your door.” I could see that my words weren’t getting through. “If you don’t believe me, ask the others. They’ll tell you.” I waved to Russ to come join us. “Russ can back me up.”

“Of course he can,” she said, bitterly. “I’m sure the whole lot of you worked it out when you thought up the idea. Let’s scare the old woman, was that it?”

“No, no, it’s real,” I said. I could see Russ coming our way. In a minute I would have him by my side. He always came off as being sincere. She’d believe him.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she said, dropping the rubber band into the trash can. “I just wanted to put you on notice that I won’t be jerked around. Not by you. Not by anyone.” And then she walked off, her arms pumping determinedly, her legs scissoring like she had somewhere important to go.

Russ was at my side in an instant. “What happened?” he asked.

“I’m not really sure,” I said. “But I don’t think we have to worry about being sent home because of the death threat anymore.”

Nadia

On the long bus ride the next day, Russ and I found we had plenty of time to talk. Our bus was more like a large van, or a small school bus. Nothing fancy. No cup holders or bathroom in the back. Just a large vehicle on wheels, with not much in the way of shock absorbers judging by the way we bounced every time the bus went over a bump. Our driver was a solid-looking Peruvian man who, we were told, didn’t know much English at all so if we had any questions, they should go through our tour guide, Alex.

Despite the overcast day, the driver wore Aviator sunglasses; he drove with the bored assurance of someone who’d done this many times. Jameson sat alone on the right side of the bus, his ear buds in and eyes closed, which kept him separate from the rest of us. Mallory parked herself up at the front of the bus, right next to Alex, who was giving her a personal guided tour, gesturing and explaining things I couldn’t quite hear. Every now and then he’d turn around and point out a landmark to the rest of us, but in the back, where I sat next to Russ, it was hard to make out the words.

I sensed that Russ was curious about what was going on between Alex and Mallory. And something else. I concentrated on trying to put a name to his feeling. Jealousy. That was it. The idea annoyed me. What was the allure of Mallory that everyone wanted to get closer to her, sit next to her, or in my case
be
her? She was pretty and nice and smart, but so were a lot of girls. There was something indefinable about her that was appealing and magnetic, and that was true even before she got her power to control minds. She had “it” whatever that was, the same “it” that movie stars had, and since she already had everything else, it really wasn’t fair.

On the bus the adults sat in the middle, each of them taking a seat of their own. Mrs. Whitehouse had seemed grumpy since the incident at the park, and kept to herself. She flipped through magazines and sighed a lot. Kevin Adams looked out the window in wide-eyed wonder, every now and then making a comment like, “Would you look at that!” Mr. Specter had a GPS and seemed to be comparing our route to what was on the screen in front of him.

We drove along the coast, with ocean views to our left. We’d been told we were heading north on the Panamerican highway, heading toward the Ancash region, specifically to the city of Huaraz and beyond. It would be closer to the mountains and cooler there, the temperature dropping down almost to freezing at night. It was a seven to eight hour drive, depending on what we encountered on the road, and we would be stopping for lunch somewhere along the way.

Mr. Specter had given an informal geography lesson at dinner the night before. Peru, we learned, was a country of varied landscapes: mountains, desert, ocean front, and jungle. The Amazon River flowed through the northern part of the country. We would be seeing everything but the Amazon River and the jungle. Personally I didn’t care because I’m not much of an outdoor girl anyway, and I’d seen rivers before. The guys seemed disappointed though. They had visions of an Indiana Jones-type excursion through the jungle. As they talked about hacking through vines and insects the size of birds, I was extra glad we weren’t going.