Somewhere I'll Find You (4 page)

With a sigh, her fingers untangled a golden tassel from the velvet gown.  “Do you know how busy I am right now?  I’ve mountains of research to do and I need to have it all done before the director has a coronary.  It’s a new picture and you know how I am with a new project.”

“The writing can be staved off,” Miles said smoothly.

“And you have no idea what you’re talking about!”  The problem was, she thought irritably,
she
knew
that defense wouldn’t hold water.  Miles had more than a
basic
knowledge of what her work entailed, and he knew how best to use
that intelligence
against her.  Looking over, she knew that behind the thinning ginger colored hair and mild blue eyes was a razor sharp mind hidden by a genial veneer.  Only this time, neither his arguments nor his affability were going to sway her. 

Because she wasn’t going back into his world for any reason.

“Even studios can be persuaded to hold off production with the right amount of influence.  A backer changes his mind.  An actor gets a better offer… there is always talk of one sort of strike or another.”  His innocent smile somehow reminded Paige of a shark about to attack.  He gazed intently at his nails.  “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with the last job that you did for us.”  It wasn’t a question, and they both knew it.

Paige’s fingers brushed a veil of dust from an archery bow propped forlornly in a corner, and as her brow lifted in speculation, her attention focused on the bow and not the man beside her.  But it wasn’t the prop from some long-ago film which filled her thoughts.

Against her will, her mind drifted
, drifted back to another time,
another life.  A life that would eventually hurl her into the unknown, leaving her uncertain of the future that loomed before her.

Frowning at her silence, Miles continued.  “Accidents do happen, you know.  Sooner or later you just have to let it go.”

At his words, Paige, jerked back to the present, went completely still.  “
Let go
of the fact that I was
never
supposed to be in the field? 
Let go
of the fact that I had only basic training with no understanding of
the danger I was to be in.
  My presence was a one-time deal - that was what you told me.  There was a mole
–
and
you needed to know who it was
as well as
the location of his bolthole.  Then it was supposed to be up to your
experts
.  Only it didn’t work out that way, did it Miles?”  When she looked at him, her lovely face was a grim mask.  “I was never the same after that ‘little accident’
,
as you so quaintly put it.  That’s why I finally left England  . . . to have some semblance of a normal life.”

He bit back the impulse to remind her that she was not normal – and never would be.  “We need you, Paige,” he said softly. “We desperately need you.”

Ignoring his words, she looked out a dirty window to the bustling city below.  California had been a haven for her ever since a horrid fall that had nearly taken her life.  It was when her strange gift
had become
stronger than before.  A gift that before had been used only behind closed doors with maps and bits and pieces of information.  A
seeker
was what they called her then – what everyone called her later was something much different.

A
freak
.  That’s what they had said about her when she had recovered enough to return to work.  Even moving down the austere halls, she felt the unease of people she had once considered friends.  People whose lives could once again be in her hands – and they didn’t like it one bit. 
He doesn’t realize or care,
Paige thought wearily.
  He didn’t see then, and he doesn’t see now. 

Scowling, she looked up at Miles, fiercely shaking her head.  “The answer is no and I’m not going to change my mind.  There are already enough rumors swirling around about me.  I don’t need any more.”  The slender author laughed bitterly, her fingers still gripping the bow.  “The irony is that the truth would be stranger than any fiction.”

“That’s exactly why we need you and that ability of yours
.  Even though this matter is unofficial, i
t could make all the difference.  It will be the last time you’re asked, that I can promise.”

Looking down at the quiver of arrows that lay next to the bow, she wondered if their tips were still sharp.  “And how many times have you said that before?” Her voice was soft, almost casual
,
as one fingertip tapped at a gleaming point.

“This time, it’s true.”

Sighing, she shook her head, moving away from the temptation of the arrows and the attraction they held for violence. “Go back to London, Miles.  Go back to your careful men in their careful suits.  Go back to your guarded meetings behind closed doors.  I want no part of it.”

“If you had just waited it out, by now you could
have
b
e
e
n a
department head or . . .”

“Don’t say it,” she warned, holding on to her composure by a thin thread.  “I was considered a liability and you know it. My job was simply to come up with raw information when you and your other intelligence sources failed to come through.  For a time, I needed
something …
anything
…
to convince me that this talent of mine could be used for things that were good and honorable.  But no more.” 

She turned on him and though she took no further steps towards him, the sheer sense of her
presence
almost made Miles recoil.  “You see, I’m tired of being a miracle worker and yet being shunned when I walk down a hall.  You have no idea how often I would come into a room and have it fall into dead silence.  All the while, everyone wondered if I knew all the dirty little secrets.  Their romantic rendezvous, their private sins . . . and that’s why you want me back,” Paige bit out
angrily
.  “You don’t need me so much as you need what I can
do
.”

Frowning, Miles lifted a gown
that
shimmered in gold under the dim light.  “I suppose it would be silly of me to deny it.  The information that you were able to glean was of global security.  Lives were in jeopardy.
  Lives
are
in jeopardy, Paige!
”

Turning, Paige once more gazed out the window, studying the distant hills of red and gold in a California sunset.  “Nothing ever changes, does it?”  Again, there was that weariness in her voice that tugged at Miles’ heart.

But it didn’t tug hard enough.  “What happened to you?”  The question exploded from him, startling both of them with its vehemence.  “Is that all you care about now, the façade of a film?  It’s an ugly world under a beautiful shine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she replied softly, her gaze never wavering from the view before her.  “It’s beautiful in ways that you cannot understand.  And it has given me back my writing.  After the accident, I wasn’t certain I could ever write again, that
your
world had taken even that from me.  But when I came here, I found an escape in film.  I found something that I could love.”

Cursing softly, Miles slowly shook his head.  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most stubborn, pigheaded . . .?”

“A thousand times in quite a few languages.” Her laugh slowly died as her eyes turned dark with bitterness.  “I almost died once for your country. Isn’t that enough?”

“Stop it, Paige!”  There was anger in his voice now, along with faint regret.  “Listen to me; you lived after an accident that would have killed most.  Yes, you had a bad time of it, but you survived.  There had to be a reason for you to beat those odds.  You came out of that coma with your gift stronger than ever.  And no matter if you believe it or not, it
is
a gift.”

Her jaw tightened as memories flooded her mind.  Watching the fast creeping shadows, Paige closed her eyes against the past, not wanting to remember
t
he horror of a world dark with pain.

But she did remember.  Remembered waking from a coma, changed in inexplicable ways.  Although psychic abilities ran deep in her family, her gifts before had been nothing compared to what they were now.   Not even the most talented could compete with her after her accident.  Now she could see things – in startling clarity - that others couldn’t, she could sense and feel emotions even from people very far away. 
She hadn’t been certain
how the glimmers of her gift had worked before the accident; she was even less certain now, although the experts had finally given her a name for it.

Remote viewing
, they called it.  The ability to describe a place or situation simply by touching an article belonging to the person in question.
Paige could see it all.

Usually.

  But having a name for the process didn’t make it any easier to understand; it didn’t ease her fears when it happened, either. 

Knowing that it was what Miles wanted her to do, Paige’s entire being rebelled at the thought of testing that gift once more.  She was fearful of crossing into an abyss where everyday rules and logic were swept away. 
What point has my gift got – what benefit does it provide me?  I’m no
more than a psychic voyeur, a
clairvoyant peeping tom. I won’t do it.  I won’t use it – I won’t!
But she knew it was already too late.  Thinking about it
always
,
always
woke her gift.  And she was thinking about it now.

Spinning quickly around, she sensed the anxiety Miles was trying so desperately to conceal.  It swept over her in bitter waves; her whole body began to tremble.  Deep in her bones, she had known he would arrive today. She had all the usual warnings.  She dropped things, lost her train of thought, lapsed suddenly in a conversation.  And all those things meant
one
thing.

A job.  An urgent call for assistance that would once more draw her into that land of deep shadows that she hated and feared, and yet which absurdly fascinated her.  Unable to resist the lure, she gazed carefully at Miles.  “And what is it this time?”

His pale eyes narrowed, sandy lashes barely hiding triumph.  “Why don’t you tell me?”

Hearing the challenge in his voice, her long hair brushed her shoulders when she shook her head in disbelief.  “You know the rules,” she reminded him softly.  “I need something.”

Something
came, in the form of a large manila envelope encased in plastic.  Sliding the envelope free, Paige closed her eyes, allowing the images to form.  Slipping under, her voice became a soft, distant whisper.  “Whatever it is that you’re looking for is near . . . very near.  You want war records . . . . Something having to do with World War
II
.  Some . . . outtakes from an old movie?”  Her eyes seemed to see more than what was contained in that envelope
when she opened them again
.  “There is a man with dark hair and he’s sad . . . no, sadness isn’t right – he’s mourning a great loss.”  There was a breathless pause when her eyes flew open.  “It was Erik Fletcher that I saw.”  Angrily, she poked the envelope back in his direction.  “Damn it, Miles, you set me up.  You
know
I live in his former home.  What kind of game are you playing?”  Watching him turn bone white took some of the steam of anger from Paige as something close to fear flickered in his eyes.  She turned away from it, both to avoid seeing it and to hide the wince of shame on her features.