Out of Sight Out of Mind (9 page)

‘Who for? Who puts up the money?’

She screwed up her mouth. ‘Some funds are from the government. We get money from charities and the lottery. A number of projects have private sponsors. The current director is a brilliant fundraiser. The lab is a very well-respected body, with a worldwide reputation – even if it is usually misinterpreted by the general public.’

‘Is that really a surprise?’

‘Of course not! It’s far more fun to imagine a lot of scary stuff. We’re just as guilty ourselves of making jokes about spooks. But the reality is often routine, even boring. We’re just a research facility, trying to find ways to help people.’

When he met her stare, she stared right back.

‘No connection to the military then?’

‘No! Don’t start on the conspiracy theories. I couldn’t work for somewhere like that. And I’m not against defence – I just wouldn’t want to be part of it. My talent, gift – whatever you want to call it – wouldn’t lend itself to any kind of weapons use – it’s too diffuse, for which I am very grateful.’ From her expression, she still detected scepticism in his face.
Which may be true
. ‘If you think the lab is some sort of front for weapons development, then you’re wrong.’

‘Sure about that, are you?’

The stiffening in her shoulders told him he’d annoyed her, but the smile she gave him was a work of art – cool poise, seasoned with just the right trace of scorn. Insider to outsider.

‘I’m sure. But then, I would say that, wouldn’t I?’

‘Of course you would.’ He held up a hand in surrender. Something inexplicable relaxed inside him when the hard-edged smile softened into a genuine grin.

‘You haven’t fallen amongst thieves. There’s nothing sinister in what we do,’ she promised. ‘I admit I don’t want to go public on what
we’re
doing, not yet.’ There was a flicker behind her eyes he couldn’t read. ‘When the time is right, yes – but not until then.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ he agreed, looking away, testing out what she’d said about the lab. Did he believe it? On the whole he thought he did – but he still had questions.
Only they aren’t all about the lab.

‘How do you come to be working there?’ he asked abruptly. Something shifted in his chest.
Wrong question. It should be – why are
you
working there?

Madison looked surprised, but answered quite easily. ‘I was headhunted. Friend of a friend. You know the kind of thing. Or perhaps you don’t?’

‘I believe I’ve heard of the concept.’

‘But you wouldn’t know if you’ve ever seen it in action.’

‘Got it in one.’ The warmth was creeping back, but her eyes were wary. Cautiously he rested his forearm against the arm of his chair, mirroring Madison’s pose. ‘What exactly is the setup?’

‘The type of work we do, do you mean?’

She lifted her head when he nodded and the long, exposed line of her throat scattered his thoughts every which way. Scrambling, he stifled the frisson of awareness. Hard. There was too much he needed to know. He pulled his mind back to what she was saying. It came reluctantly.

‘It’s based on the five senses,’ she said. ‘My area is sight – in my case
second
sight, which translates for me into mind reading, telepathy and studies relating to memory. Other sections are dealing with actual physical sight, and things like precognition. There are departments working on hearing, taste, touch and smell. We have people who are “noses”, like those who work in the perfume industry, others with a particularly acute sense of taste.’ On familiar ground, she’d relaxed. This was a well-rehearsed patter. ‘We research cases of heightened awareness and also levels of ability in the general population – how latent talents might be stimulated and applied, in a positive way.’

‘With success?’

‘Some. A number of my peers are working on some interesting research papers.’

‘And I’m going to be yours?’ Suddenly the hesitation about sharing with her colleagues fell into place.

‘Well …’ She caught his eye. ‘All right. I admit it may just have crossed my mind, for a second.’ She held up her hand, laughing, then her face changed. ‘Would you at least consider it?’

‘I think we need to know a little more about what we’re getting into first.’

His stomach contracted as the eagerness went out of her eyes. She’d instantly mistaken his caution for reluctance.
Oh blast.

‘Yes, of course.’ Head down, her voice was muffled. ‘I was getting ahead of myself.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Well, it’s getting late—’

‘And I should go.’ He knew he’d blown it. Again. The rapport between them was at an end. Since he couldn’t explain a sense of danger that he didn’t understand himself, there was nothing else to do but leave. He nodded towards the pile of books. ‘May I take a couple of those?’

Surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly stifled. ‘Yes, of course. If you need anything else—’

‘I’ll let you know,’ he confirmed, as he hauled himself to his feet. ‘Thanks for everything.’

She shook her head, without speaking.

He turned towards the door ‘Don’t forget to lock up, after I’ve gone.’

Madison pottered about the room, returning volumes to the shelves, and retrieving the incriminating blooper DVD from her bag, to store it inconspicuously amongst her reference material, while battling a sense of disquiet. She’d made a fool of herself. Twice. Once when she’d almost kissed Jay, or let him kiss her – she wasn’t sure which – and then again, over the loan of the books. She’d hidden her surprise fast, but not fast enough. Her cheeks burned. That had been – stupid – in the extreme. And hurtful. She
knew
Jay wasn’t the down-and-out she’d first taken him for. But even if he had been? Why shouldn’t he want to read up on something that might help him understand the position he was in? In his place, she’d want to do the same.

Involuntarily she shivered as she thought of that place. Totally alone. She knew a bit about that – but she still had her friends, her home and her work. What did Jay have? Just her – a stranger, who wanted to turn him into a guinea pig for a research paper.

The heat in her face went up another notch. Jay was an exciting opportunity, one that she’d found for herself, after years of searching. She knew, with a bedrock confidence that had nothing to do with pride, that she was the best person to help him, maybe the only person, given her experience with memory investigations. Was it so bad to want the credit for it, if and when it happened? She didn’t want to risk sharing him with anyone.
But
is that professional jealousy or something much more basic?

Shying away from that disturbing thought, she moved restlessly to the window. The lights were coming on in the street below. She stared at the dark amber halo around each streetlight. The edgy feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t all to do with embarrassment. She leaned her forehead against the cool of the glass. Jay had asked questions. The rational part of her mind had no problem with that – curiosity was natural – but there was another part that wasn’t so comfortable.

Now the euphoria was evaporating – she shrugged off the hormonal haze that seemed to want to take its place – her own ability to question was kicking in. Jay didn’t want people to know about him. Was that an understandable sense of uncertainty, given the vulnerability of his situation? Or was it something else entirely?

Had it been too easy, the way Jay had accepted that she could read minds? The way he already seemed to have slid into her world? Was she letting her eagerness to work with the best subject she’d ever encountered override all her protective mechanisms? For a second she felt nauseous. She wanted to work with Jay.
Needed
to. She dug her fingers into the palms of her hands. Something had created that barrier in Jay’s mind. Whatever or whoever it was, it was unlikely to be good. His easy acceptance of her and the unknown source of his own power – the answers to both
had
to be lurking behind that barrier. Did she really want to go there? To an uncertain, dangerous place?
Of course you do. You just have to be very, very careful.

She straightened up. Getting a private investigator was a start. She needed some answers, too. She’d choose carefully and pay what was asked. If Jay was a con man, or some kind of spy, if he’d been sent to test her – she was going to know about it. If he was something worse …

What?

You just have to be very, very careful.

Jay lay in the dark, as expected, looking at the ceiling, willing his mind to behave. For over an hour he’d been trying to nail that persistent sense of menace, checking out whether it was real. The only result was the return of the nagging pain behind the eyes. He was stuck here, in the middle of the craziest of the crazy. Mind reading, for fuck’s sake! Mind reading! A long shiver ran over his skin. His whole life, his whole
being
was so screwed up,
that
felt like normal. And when he tried to sort out stuff, to make some sense of it – zap – knives behind the eyes.

With a curse he levered himself off the bed, crossing to the sink for water and one of the painkillers he’d bought at the chemist. He looked down at the small white pill. He might have bought them, but it was Madison’s money. Everything he had he owed to the angel.

The thought stung.

The only repayment he had right now was blood, sweat and tears, and she could have those, any way she wanted. Have him – he shunted quickly past
that
image. Circumstances had thrown them into a weird intimacy. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. There was too much riding on it. She could use him for any number of research studies, if she could get his memory back – and if he could be sure that what they were doing was safe. Until he could, the fewer people who knew about him the better.

He wandered back to the bed, feeling his eyelids getting heavy as the meds kicked in.

He arranged himself on the mattress, his shoulder supported by a pillow, with the duvet drawn back over his good arm. The studio was well appointed and comfortable. He had everything he could possibly need, but the neutral décor of his surroundings had all the impersonality of a hotel room. Blank, just like he was. He tried, fruitlessly, to call up some familiar picture. Did he have a home, somewhere?

Madison’s apartment was full of surprising pieces of her personality, books and CDs, candles, paintings on the walls from places she’d visited; not great art, but pictures that meant something to her. Like the Italian one at the lab. There’d been something there. Something connected to the missing lover? That was one private area he hadn’t trampled into. Madison had let him into her personal space, but she still had things that were hidden.

Madison Albi was one hell of a woman. She had his life, literally, in her hands. But he had confidence in her. The thought came with a tiny shock.
Someone to trust.
Could he? His angel had secrets. And he was stuck here in the dark, inside and out, depending on her.

You are so screwed.

Madison sat in her office, regarding the computer screen thoughtfully. She fiddled briefly with the chain at her throat, realised what she was doing and dropped her hand. She added a few lines to her proposal for her work programme with Jay, and pressed send, frowning as the machine stuttered before confirming that the e-mail had been dispatched to the Administration Office. With any luck the administrator wouldn’t get round to looking at it for a few days. With more luck, he wouldn’t look at it at all. He’d just file it. Madison crossed her fingers. She really didn’t want to share information on Jay.
Don’t want anyone telling me to put him back where I found him!

She stood up, smiling. The new morning had calmed yesterday’s doubts. She could do this. Whatever there was to find, she’d find it. If Jay was conning her, a good investigator would uncover it – and she was going to get a good one.

She looked at the clock. Time to go and stick more needles into a defenceless six-footer with a beautiful butt and a wicked smile. She’d noticed the smile.
And the butt.

Nothing in the manual that said a woman couldn’t enjoy her work.

Vic was leaning back dangerously in his chair, whistling and scratching his crotch when Alec opened the door. Alec’s grunt of disgust was quickly stifled, but Vic had hearing like a cat. He straightened the chair, feet to the floor, and held up a finger.

‘You too, buddy,’ Alec retaliated.

Vic snickered. ‘You might want to get down from that friggin’ high horse if you want to see what I got for you.’

‘Give.’ Alec held out a peremptory hand.

Vic moved a bundle of printouts into the safety of his lap. ‘Pretty please.’

Alec sized up the situation. It wasn’t worth the hassle of an undignified scrap over a pile of paper. ‘Pretty. Fucking. Please.’

Vic tutted and passed over the papers, spreading them with his fingers to illustrate. ‘E-mail to the voice analyst woman she uses. Asking her to work on a recording of a new subject she’ll be sending over.’

‘Subject A?’ Alec looked up.

‘Who else? Private deal, not through the lab.’

‘Clever girl. Kong said she was inventive.’ Alec shuffled further down the bundle and laughed.

‘What?’

‘The research programme she just filed from the lab for Jay Jackson.’ Abruptly his laughter died as he stared at the sheet. ‘For Christ’s sake – Jay? How the fuck did he remember that?’

Vic wasn’t concerned. ‘You said there might be a small amount of leakage, even with the deterrents you built in.’

‘Yeah, but not something that basic.’ Alec could hear the alarm in his voice and cursed mentally.

Surprisingly, Vic didn’t pounce. ‘Don’t sweat it. The guy is bound to be thinking – trying to figure out what the hell happened to him. Your name – it’s like part of you, isn’t it? Embedded? It’s not as if he’s remembered anything else that would be of use – and you said he was good.’

‘He thinks he is.’ Vic’s unexpected support, and the rest of the contents of the paper bundle, leached away the panic. Alec grinned

Vic caught it. ‘Again – what’s funny?’

‘This list of drugs she’s planning to pump into him. She uses half of these, he’s going to feel like shit.’

‘And this amuses you?’ Vic rolled his eyes. ‘Christ! And you used to be a buddy to this guy! Remind me to watch my back.’

‘Buddy?’ Alec’s face hardened. ‘Yeah. Buddy. I’m the closest thing Jayston Creed ever had to a best friend.’