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“So how will this work?” I turned back to
look at the table as Emma spoke again. “What are our roles?”

“Emma, since you are full time here at
Carruthers, you’ll be going into Remington’s office under cover, so
to speak. We’ve gotten you an administrative job there, thanks to
some well-placed friends. You’ll keep your eyes open, but mainly
you’re there to support Tasmyn.”

“Oh, and just what is my cover? How am I
supposed to justify dropping into his office with any regularity?
Am I supposed to be a campaign groupie or something more?” I knew
my sarcasm was over the top, but I was tense, at the limit of what
I could bear.

“You’re not totally off base. You’re going to
be a volunteer. A lowly worker, and your primary job will be to be
noticed by no one.”

I leaned back against the windows and smirked
at Cathryn. “I can handle that.”

“And then when Tas comes in, she can listen
to their minds, try to find out if Remington’s guilty.” Emma
nodded. “I get it.”

“Exactly. And you, Emma, will be there as her
backup. You’ll feed her any info she needs, and use your powers to
nudge people into talking—and thinking—about Helene Gamble and her
murder.”

I sat down again, propping up my head with
one arm. “What if we don’t find anything? What if it turns out that
Nick killed this girl after all, and he’s just trying to deflect
the blame?”

“Then we report to the Masslers that we found
no evidence implicating John Remington, and we let the police move
forward with their investigation as they see fit.” She paused for a
beat, as though waiting for me to protest. “Well? Any other
questions?”

Zoe raised her hand. “What’s my job in this?
Clearly you don’t need me on the scene.”

“No, we don’t. I brought you in, Zoe, to be
Tasmyn’s sounding board, her safe place. If this assignment becomes
too much, and she is at risk for exposing us, you must report that.
Tasmyn, you’ll be conferring weekly with Zoe, so she can monitor
your state of mind.” Cathryn was watching me closely, as though
afraid I might explode at any moment.

I only nodded. “I take it Zoe will be
replacing Aline, since I won’t be able to share any of this?”

“Exactly.” Cathryn didn’t need to elaborate;
we understood each other perfectly. She didn’t trust me, and the
feeling was mutual. She looked away from me.

“All right then. Zoe and Emma, I’ll talk to
you later about the specifics of your work. I’d like to speak to
Tasmyn alone for a minute. Emma, could you leave the perimeter in
place until we finish?”

Emma nodded, shot me an apologetic smile and
followed Zoe out the door. After it closed behind them, Cathryn
leaned over and flipped the photo of Helene’s body back over.

“Tasmyn, I wanted to point out something to
you that hasn’t been lost on either me or on Harley.” She traced
her finger over Helene’s neck. “See this? Look at the cuts on her
neck.”

I hadn’t examined the picture that closely
before; I couldn’t get beyond her face. But now I followed
Cathryn’s finger, and a chill ran down my spine. Before I could
stop it, my hand raised to my own neck, touching the scars still
there.

“Yes.” Cathryn was nearly whispering. “They
are nearly identical to yours. Which concerns us. . .makes us think
that perhaps there is more to this than even the Masslers
realize.”

“Not Nell.” It wasn’t a question, because I
had been to see her only the previous week. She remained
unresponsive, unchanged. And even when she had been able to visit
in my dreams—or during that last terrifying day with Marica—she had
not been able to manipulate anything physically. The word
non-corporeal sprang to my mind.

“No, that isn’t a concern. I know you’ve been
visiting her, but we also checked on her this week. She hasn’t
moved.” Cathryn stared down at the picture and then abruptly turned
it back over. “But Nell’s mother is not comatose or vegetative.
Alyse is very much awake and aware.”

“But she’s still in the hospital?” I had
never met Alyse Massler, but I had heard stories.

“Yes. But. . .” Cathryn shrugged. “So was
Nell on the day Marica Lacusta went crazy and claimed that Nell had
been in her house. We’re not saying that Alyse definitely had
anything to do with Helene’s murder, but it was certainly an
interesting coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe in
coincidence. Not since I moved to Florida.”

Keeping something from Michael was an
uncomfortable proposition, and not something I wanted to do. But at
the same time, I respected the need for discretion Cathryn had
stressed to us. I knew Michael would never repeat anything I shared
with him, but I was also aware that there were others like me out
in the world who might hear things in his mind without his
knowledge.

So I told him everything I could without
breaking Cathryn’s confidence.

“I’ve been given a top-secret assignment.” We
sat on the ground in the least crowded part of the campus green,
enjoying what was left of the afternoon sun. Late autumn was my
favorite season in Florida, and I closed my eyes, savoring the cool
breeze that wafted over my face.

“Oh, really?” Michael was leaning back, one
arm hooked around my neck as I lay my head against his
shoulder.

“Yup. I can’t say anything to you about it,
not specifically, but I can tell you that I’m going to be working
three days a week for a little while. That’s my cover.”

He nuzzled my neck. “Nothing dangerous,
right?”

I shook my head. “No, just information.” I
wished I could tell him that I would be, in essence, working for
Nick Massler, but that was definitely on the do-not-discuss
list.

“Okay. I promise I won’t ask anything, as
long as you promise to keep safe.” He moved his fingers to my chin
and gently nudged it in his direction, covering my lips. I smiled
against his kiss and murmured my agreement.

And so began my new double life. My cover
story was as close to reality as possible, so I remained a student
at Perriman, volunteering for John Remington’s fledgling senate
campaign. Cathryn explained everything to me on the first day of
work as she drove me to Carruthers, where we would pick up the car
I’d be using for the duration of the assignment. Apparently the
Mustang didn’t fit the image they wanted for me.

“It just so happens that Remington put out a
call for volunteers last month. It came through the alumni office,
since Remington’s campaign manager is a graduate of Perriman. You
saw the flier and decided to try it.”

“Don’t you think they might be suspicious if
they investigate me and find out I was Nick Massler’s daughter’s
intended murder victim?” I asked, trying to keep the skepticism
from my voice.

Cathryn’s responding laughter didn’t contain
a hint of humor. “Tasmyn, don’t you know? There is no mention of
your name anywhere in Nell’s files. There’s not even a description
of what happened, just that she had a mental break and was
committed to a psychiatric facility. No crime, no record.”

“The magic of King,” I muttered, and shook my
head. “Does it matter that I know nothing about politics and even
less than that about John Remington?”

“Don’t worry,” Cathryn said. “That’s one of
the reasons Emma is on this case. When you’re at the campaign
office, if you’re asked any questions that you can’t answer, Emma
will send you the info. Just be listening for her. Don’t
panic.”

The car I was given at Harper Creek was a
non-descript white compact. I glanced over at Cathryn and smirked.
“I think I’d rather have your car.”

“Anyone who could afford my car wouldn’t work
for John Remington,” she answered, laughing. “He’s the champion of
the underprivileged. Remember, you’re a poor college student.”

The Remington campaign center was programmed
into the dashboard GPS. I followed the directions carefully, and it
only took about twenty minutes before I pulled up to a tall stone
building in the middle of the county seat. John ran his campaign
from a storefront located on the ground floor of the law firm he
had helped to establish. I parked the car at the curb and climbed
out slowly, scanning the vicinity with my ears and my mind.

The inside of the headquarters was nothing as
I had pictured. I had a vague sense of these kinds of places from
movies, and I had expected noise, bustling workers wearing
promotional hats and stacks of posters on every flat surface.

Instead, the room was quiet. There were a few
desks, manned mostly by people on computers or telephones. I
spotted Emma off in a corner, but she didn’t acknowledge me aloud.
Instead I heard her broadcasting a greeting into my head.

So glad you’re here. This place is dull as
death.

I smothered a grin and caught the eye of the
woman sitting at the desk closest to me. She looked up at me,
distracted, and then smiled.

“Hello, welcome to Remington for Senate
Headquarters! What can I do for you?”

I pasted on a matching smile. “I’m here to
volunteer. I was sent by my college. They said you needed
help?”

“Oh, Perriman? Sure, sure. Ben organized
that. What’s your name?”

“Tasmyn Vaughan.” I watched her scan a list,
and I crept into her head.
More people to do work that isn’t
even invented yet. God, Ben makes me crazy. . .what was her name. .
oh, here.

“Okay, so cool. You’re on the list, good to
go. So, come on in, I’ll show you around.” She swept a hand over
the room. “Such as it is. We’re still almost a year out from
election day, you know, so it’s pretty low key. Mostly doing
demographic sweeps, some initial work for the primary election—not
that it’s a big deal, John’s going to be uncontested except by the
fringe element—but I hope you like to type and be on the computer a
lot.”

“That’s fine. I can do that. I just, you
know--” I flipped over a hand in my best typical college girl
imitation—“wanted to get involved. Be part of the process.”

The other woman nodded, though I could hear
her mental eye rolling. “Yeah, we hear that a lot. Oh, by the way,
my name’s Chelle Hoffman. I’m kind of the head of the admins.
Unofficially. I keep things rolling when John and Ben aren’t
around.”

Ben’s the campaign manager
, Emma
supplied.
Ben Ryan. Works in the law firm with
Remington
.

“I guess John and Ben are pretty busy, with
the law office and all.” I had to sound as though I had some kind
of clue.

“Oh, all the time. John is in DC a lot of the
time, of course, and Ben keeps things running at the firm and here.
He’s John’s right hand.” The note of irony that crept into Chelle’s
voice was further borne out by her derisive thoughts. Clearly she
was not a fan of Ben.

She walked me around the room, introducing me
to the three other people sitting there. When we got to Emma,
Chelle patted her shoulder.

“Emma’s our newest hire. We don’t keep many
employees here on a permanent basis, but she came so highly
recommended, and she’s done a great job so far. She organized our
donor system, so I’m pretty much her biggest fan.”

“Nice to meet you, Emma,” I smiled.

“Hey, you, too. Let me know if you need any
help.” I bit my lip to keep from giggling at the hilarious side
conversation Emma was playing in her head.

“So grab a chair, and let me see what I can
give you. We’ve got a mailing going out the beginning of next week.
You can stuff some envelopes.”

I sat down at a table and Chelle dropped a
stack of paper next to a pile of envelopes. She gave me an
encouraging smile. “Go to town. Tri fold for the fliers, stuff and
seal. Don’t get a paper cut, we don’t have any medical coverage.”
Cracking up at her own joke, she returned to her own desk and
computer.

I picked up a flier and began folding. So
far, this was looking like my most boring assignment yet.