Mindsurge (Mindspeak Book 3) (7 page)

“This is a list of accounts where your father accumulated funds and investments before he died. Only a select few people know how to access these accounts. They require both passwords and DNA identification.”

“‘Select’ people?”

“That’s right. I don’t know how to access the accounts. I only know who does.”

My brain began to spin out of control. Who would Dad have possibly trusted with this knowledge? I stared across the table at Ms. Long. “Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?” I was suddenly unable to keep the irritation from my voice as a strength from deep inside me surfaced.

“Only one person knows
how
to access the accounts, but she cannot access the accounts without you.”

“Who?” I dug my fingernails into the wood of the table, bracing for what was coming.

“Alyson Roslin.”

I closed my eyes, bowing my head, and a cold sweat washed over my body. After a deep breath, I looked back up at Ms. Long. “You’re telling me the only way to access my inheritance is through my mother? And you said the accounts require a specific DNA? I’m guessing mine?”

“That is correct. She is also the owner of the other half of the property here in Kentucky.”

My mother and I now co-owned the safe house where I found her two weeks ago. Perfect.

I stared down at a list of twenty or so bank accounts. “How much?”

Ms. Long stared back at me. I studied her. Just when I thought her expression had remained unreadable during this entire reveal, I noticed a slight twitch in her jaw and the tiniest hint of sweat droplets along her hairline. I cocked my head. “How much money is in these accounts?”

Without breaking eye contact, she said, “As of nine this morning, these accounts totaled 3.2 billion dollars.”

The room began to spin. Dark spots clouded my vision. I tried to pull in air, but couldn’t. Pressure closed in around my neck. I couldn’t breathe.
Jonas
, I managed.
Help me
. I clawed at my throat.

Jonas pushed through the boardroom doors, but Ms. Long was already at my side. “Miss Matthews, are you okay?” She grabbed a pitcher of water and poured me a glass. “Here.” She tipped the glass against my lips.

I gasped, shoving the glass and her hands away. The glass hit the floor with a thunk, spilling the contents.

Jonas grabbed my shoulders, spinning my seat so that I faced him. “What did you do to her?” he yelled at the lawyer.

“Nothing. I—”

“Apparently not nothing. Lexi…” He squatted before me. “Breathe. In… out…” He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as if to show me how.

Finally, I sucked in. The air stung my throat.

“That’s it. Nice and slow.” Though his voice was calm, his brows knitted together. He sat in the chair beside me, keeping both hands on my knees as I continued to force breaths in and out. “Want to tell me what just happened?”

I inhaled and shook my head.

“You’re very pale. Have you had enough for one day?”

I shook my head again. “I’m okay,” I whispered. “Can you give me one more minute with Ms. Long? Then I think I’d like a break.”

Jonas hesitated, but stood to leave. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

When the doors were closed again, I turned to Ms. Long and swallowed hard. “I just want to know why,” I said in a hoarse voice. I also wanted to know
how
, but that seemed less important at the moment.

“Why?” Ms. Long repeated. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Why did my father accumulate so much?”

“Oh.” The lawyer pursed her lips until they practically disappeared. “I’m simply the messenger. I would assume only your mother knows that.”

“My mother?” I stood abruptly, causing my chair to roll backward.

“That’s right. I’m told your mother and father divorced when you were young, but remained very close. Since she’s the one who knows how to access the accounts…”

I didn’t feel the need to hash out family drama in a boardroom, but apparently I was going to be forced to meet with the woman who had deserted me when I was young. I ran my tongue over my parched lips. More questions scrolled through my mind than I knew what to do with. “How many people know the size of my inheritance?”

“Two: me, and now you.” She paused a moment. “Your mother knows that the inheritance is sizable, but for her protection, your father decided it was best to tell as few people as possible until the right time.”

I glanced down at Ms. Long’s hands as she wrung them at her waist. Her pupils were dilated. “You’re scared. Why?”

I couldn’t help but think of Marci. My dad had trusted the journalist with information. How much information? I had no idea, but she had been frightened the last time I saw her here at Wellington.

Just before she was murdered on the University of Kentucky’s campus.

“Miss Matthews, my firm protects a lot of information for our clients, but the security measures surrounding this case are enough to make even the strongest a little skittish. There are instructions in place in the event something happens to me… or you.” Her hands shook as she pretended to organize the documents in front of her. She looked back up at me. “I’m worried about you. You’re young. And your reaction to the news…”

“It was a shock, that’s all. It’s a lot of money.” I squeezed at the pressure point between my thumb and forefinger, a nervous habit I usually only did when I suffered a headache. “How about you give me a day to digest the information? Can we meet again in a day or two?”

“I am at your disposal. I work for you now, Ms. Matthews, as long as you desire me to.”

“In that case, I’d prefer that you call me Lexi.”

I looked down at the documents in front of me. Ms. Long must have followed my line of vision because she said, “An office has been set up for you. It’s to the right of Dean Fisher’s office. A copy of every document Mr. Finland and I brought here today will be placed in a safe in that office.” She handed me a piece of paper. “Memorize this combination and then destroy it. I created the combination this morning and am the only other person who knows it.”

“You’ve thought of everything.” An office seemed like overkill.
 

“Your father paid us to.” She began to gather documents, straightening loose papers and closing folders.
 

“Ms. Long, I have one last request.”

“Anything.”

“You said that you and I are the only two who know the value of my inheritance?”

“Yes.”

“I want it to stay that way. No one can know the details of what you just told me.”

“Of course. That’s entirely up to you. Your father left you in charge starting the day you turned eighteen. Much of what he wanted you to know is in the journals he already gave you, and in this file.” She held up a brown expandable folder. “I’ll leave this in the safe for when you’re ready.”

When I was ready.

Would I
ever
be ready to know what Dad expected me to do with 3.2 billion dollars?

~~~~~

“What did that woman say to you in there?” Jonas asked.

I shook my head, refusing to look at him as I pocketed all my thoughts and hid them securely away. We wandered through the small cemetery adjacent to the chapel where we had started our day. Though neither my dad nor my best friend was buried there, I somehow felt closer to them. And right now I needed them.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me…” Jonas stuffed his hands in his pockets. “But Lexi, you scared me. You were so pale.” He kicked at a rock that bounced off a headstone.

“You heard most of it. I now own Wellington Boarding School.” Whatever that meant. How does someone own a school? “And I inherited money from my dad.” Jonas didn’t need to know I was now worth the gross domestic product of a small country.
No one
needed to know that information. Not yet, anyway. People close to me had been killed for less.

“That must have been some trust fund, to cause you to hyperventilate and practically pass out like that.”

It was. But how had Dad accumulated that much money? And why? And what could I possibly need with it? And why would my father leave this school to me? The last time Dad and I spoke, I had been more than ready to graduate and move on with my life—go to medical school and become a caring and successful doctor.

But now?

My back to Jonas, I stared at a monument in the center of the cemetery: a life-sized sculpture of a girl with large angel wings. A book lay across her lap. Carved in stone below the sculpture were the words “In Memory of Father and Mother.” Love poured out of the simple inscription.

Until recently, I had felt as if both my parents were dead, that all I was left with were distant memories of two parents who once loved me. But now that I knew the truth, I had to wonder: Had my mother
ever
loved me? Could a mother who loved her daughter leave her behind? And had I been given a chance to know that mother again?

The wind picked up, bringing me out of my daydream. Goose bumps spread down my arms. Being in the cemetery reminded me that death was real—and final. I would never forget the image of the neurons in Dani’s brain turning dull like the brightest star fading from the sky. That image—of Sandra Whitmeyer killing my best friend—would be ingrained in my mind forever.

And now, that very woman was working hard to make sure I knew that her partner, Dr. John DeWeese—Jack’s father—was the one responsible for the murder of my dad? I had yet to figure out why she would do that. What was her game?

Whatever she was up to, I needed to figure it out soon. Sandra Whitmeyer and John DeWeese had already taken away two of the most important people in my life. And now Sandra was hinting that Jack could be next.

Deep in thought, I didn’t hear Jonas step up behind me. His hands rested on my shoulders, massaging the tension that knotted up between my shoulder blades. My muscles stiffened, but I settled into his touch, closing my eyes.

Yet behind the darkness of my eyelids, it was Jack I saw. He had shoved me from his life earlier that morning, at a time when I needed him. Of course, he’d had every reason to act the way he had, after last night.

Like always, Jonas was inside my head, but I knew by his frustrated sigh that I was successfully shutting him out. He bent his head close and spoke softly. “What did Ms. Long tell you today that scared you so much?”

“Does it matter?” I stepped away from his touch.

“What kind of question is that? You asked me to be there for a reason.” He spun me around and stared into my eyes. “You were close to passing out when I got in there.”

“Well, you heard the biggest part of it. I’m somehow the proud owner of a boarding school. I have no idea what that even means.”

“You’re not telling me everything.”

“No, I’m not. And I don’t have to.” I backed up, putting distance between us. We should never have been that close to begin with, but he was right. I was scared. I had needed his touch. No, I needed someone else’s touch: Jack’s. And I needed to feel something other than fear.

The corners of Jonas’s lips tipped upward in a sly grin. “Okay. Have it your way.” He laughed in an aloof I-don’t-care sort of way.

I crossed my arms. “Why are you smiling?” My voice escalated in volume. This was the Jonas that infuriated me—the same Jonas I had despised once upon a time.

“Oh, don’t get that sexy black skirt in a bundle. I was just thinking that my initial instinct would be to force it out of you with my mind, just like you would force someone to tell you something.”

“But we promised each other. No invading the other’s thoughts.”

“That’s right. How could I forget? Is Jack exempt from that rule?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s not here. It’s no secret you two haven’t been speaking since just after the lab explosion, except to argue.”

I frowned and looked away. Lingering autumn leaves fell from the trees. “Jack and I just need space.”

“Is that why you’re afraid to tell Jack what was on Sandra’s video? Or about the note? You think he would let you push him away if he knew?”

I pushed loose strands of hair from my face and tucked them behind my ear. “You know I can’t tell him. Sandra has followed through on every threat she’s made.” Turning, I walked along behind some gravestones, grazing shaking fingers along the cold, rough concrete as I passed.

Jonas followed. “You forget. I don’t have to read your mind to
read your mind
. Your body language gives you away, and you’re hiding something. More than Sandra’s message. Answer me this… If Jack were here, would you tell him what Ms. Long revealed?”

I whipped around. “Well, it doesn’t really matter, now does it? Look around, Jonas. Jack isn’t here, is he?”

Jonas reached out and grabbed my hand, yanking me forward. He brushed his fingers along my hair and jawline. “No, he isn’t.” His calm tone deflated my anger a little.

I breathed heavily. “This isn’t right, Jonas.” I heard the weakness in my voice, but did nothing to stop him. Was he inside my head, preventing me from turning him away?

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not? Because of Jack?” His breath feathered against my lips.

“Yes. And because of Briana. Because of lots of things.” I tried pushing against him, to free myself from the straitjacket of his arms.

“What things? What the attorneys said?” Jonas tilted his head and leaned closer. “Tell me what they said. Let me help you.”

I couldn’t let this happen. Jonas’s lips were millimeters from mine. His pupils were dilated, leaving only a thin rim of amber. I pushed against him. “Jonas, let go of me. This isn’t you. What are you doing?”

Suddenly, an avalanche of cool air washed over me. My eyes sprang open as Jonas was jerked from me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack shoved Jonas, and Jonas nearly stumbled over a tombstone.

“Jack,” I gasped.

Jonas grinned. His eyes were glued to Jack. “Well, well, well. So nice of you to join us.”

“You set me up?” Jack walked in a circle, stalking Jonas like prey. “You called me here just so that I could watch you kiss my girlfriend?”

“What’s he talking about?” I asked Jonas.
Why would you do this?