Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set (46 page)

“Yeah, read his mind.” He didn’t look nearly as cool about it this time. Ha! Bluffer. He stepped onto a bench, plopped his rear on top of the weathered picnic table and scratched his tousled hair, avoiding eye contact with me.

My stomach sank. He didn’t think I was normal. I wasn’t. Never would be. I’d have to keep my peek-a-boo brain a secret forever so people wouldn’t treat me weird. “I freak you out, don’t I?”

His mouth twisted, obviously not wanting to admit it.

“Answer me now or I’ll grab your palm.” I stepped toward him and flared my eyes.

He popped off the bench and took two steps back.

What a geek. “You don’t have to pretend to be all okay with what I can do. Nobody else is and to be perfectly honest, I’d go back to being normal if I had any choice in the matter.” The truth of my words surprised me. “But, I don’t.”

He was quiet a moment. “This isn’t about you, it’s about the case. It’s about Amanda. About making sure her kidnappers get caught and put behind bars where they belong.”

A flash of the unconscious girl with blonde curls flashed in my head, but I shook the image away. “Look, I’m not cut out for cop stuff. Somehow I got this power, I helped Sam find Amanda, and now I want out of it. I mean, isn’t Sam your boss? You should listen to him, right? Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

I headed away from the picnic tables, but Trip was right on my heels. “Fine, I’ll solve this thing myself. You can forget Amanda even exists for all I care.”

Not likely.

“But, do me one quick favor and then I’m out of your hair for good. Just tell me exactly what you saw when you . . . read his mind. Maybe there’s a clue or something.”

I stopped and faced him. “If I tell you this, then you’ll leave me alone about this case? Forever?”

He held up his right hand. “Scout’s honor.”

I rubbed my temples wanting to get on with the low-key normalcy that used to be my life. A few minutes more and I’d be out of danger for good. I could deal with that. “Fine.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“Let’s hope not.” I closed my eyes, and focused on the slideshow that appeared when I willed it. Mind reading seemed to come with a photographic memory. Flashes blipped in my head. None were of Bishop. “I didn’t actually
see
him drop her in the woods. It’s like all the images are coming from what he saw or something.” Pictures flashed, one after the other. “No, I never actually saw him. I could see this other guy though.”

Trip started bouncing from foot to foot, clearly excited. “Another guy? What other guy?”

“Mind reading doesn’t pop out a social security number if that’s what you’re thinking.” I watched him bounce up and down, all hyped up. “Besides, I told Sam about that guy. Wasn’t it in the notes you broke into?”

He frowned. “He caught me before I finished reading.”

I sighed. “Such pressure for a girl who isn’t on the police payroll.” Concentrating, I heard a mental click between slides as images rotated in my mind. “That guy with Bishop has got long dark hair, a tattoo on his right forearm in the shape of an ugly dragon-snake thingy, and he’s medium built. Kind looks like Orlando Bloom in
Pirates of the Caribbean
. What if Amanda could ID this guy and then the police can get him to rat out Bishop? Then they’d both go down.”

Go down? I was starting to talk cop. This was not good.

“That could work.” Trip jotted down notes onto his pad of paper. “That all you can remember?”

“Yeah, nothing else,” I said, then thought of something horrifying. “Hey, Trip?”

“Yeah.”

My throat went dry. “You’re not going to, um, tell anyone at school what I can do. Are you?”

Trip looked offended. “Of course not. I’m a professional.”

“Well, don’t be writing it in any computer notes either. You never know who might be snooping.” A cool breeze blew and I wrapped my sweatshirt tightly around me. “So, I helped you. That’s all I know. I’m out of this case now, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay.” For some reason I felt awkward leaving, like I was turning my back on Amanda or something. “Well, good luck catching Bishop and all. I hope it works out. I really do.”

He scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it out to me. “My cell number. In case you need it.”

I couldn’t imagine why I’d ever need it, but I shoved it in my front pocket anyway. “Well, bye.”

I gave an awkward wave and turned to walk away.

“Hey, Kylie.”

His voice was unusually loud and I turned around, wondering what he wanted. “Yeah?”

“I’ll see you after school.”

“Um, what?”

He slipped his notepad and pen into his back pocket. “I’m coming by your house so we can work on the case some more.”

My mouth dropped open. “But, I’m out. You swore.”

“I said Scout’s honor.” He shrugged, raised his hand in the air, and then waved it away. “Never was a boy scout though. Means nothing to me. Four o’clock sound good? You should be cooled off by then and ready to do the right thing.”

I stared in shock as Trip brushed his hair out of his eyes, smiled big, and then headed to the cafeteria just as the bell shrilled across the courtyard.

I’d been had. He’d gotten the information he wanted and was still insisting I help him with this case.
Scout’s honor.
That was so messed up, so sneaky, so . . . clever.

A breeze blew across the yard and I hugged myself to keep warm, then turned and hurried inside. I headed straight for my locker, turning things over in my mind.

Was I back on the case?

There was no point in protesting, Trip was relentless. He’d just badger me until I caved. Plus, I could still see the bottom of the girl’s shirt fly up from the wind, revealing the familiar figure-eight shaped birthmark. The sane part of me that valued my safety had put up a good fight, but it was time to give in. Something was going on and it obviously involved me. Come four o’clock, I’d do whatever I could to help Amanda.

“Hey!” Julie came up behind me as I was dialing my locker combo. “You ditched me the entire lunch hour. I ate by myself, thank you very much.”

“Sorry.”

“Who was that guy?” She opened her own locker and pulled out a thick book. “Some cousin I don’t know about?”

“A cousin?” I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. “You know my parents were only children.”

“Well, you talked to him all through lunch—I watched you through the caf window.” She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “He’s super hot and I didn’t see you screaming at all. I figured he must be a relative.”

I slammed my locker shut. “Hilarious.”

“So?” She raised her eyebrows. “What gives?”

“Truthfully . . .” I’d just spent the entire lunch period talking to Trip without screaming, stuttering, or feeling nervous at all. How could that be? It’s not like I would even consider flirting with him—he was so not my type—but still. I had to admit, shirt on or off, the guy was hot.

Julie put a hand on her hip. “Spill.”

I reached in my locker, grabbed my books, and my stomach growled again. “I’m hungry.”

It wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but at least it was true. I knew she’d be mad at me for not filling her in, but what I could I say? That I was a mind reader? That the hot guy was an assistant at the police station?

“Gotta run. Don’t want to be late.” I turned away from my best friend, scooted around her, and then ran to class just as the last bell rang.

****

At 3:35 p.m., I paced my room, waiting for Trip to arrive. I’d managed to avoid Julie the rest of the school day, which was no easy feat since our lockers were close together, but then I’d spotted her in the courtyard after school hanging all over Joel. Part of me wondered if that really had to do with Brandon, but it’s not like I could ask or she’d expect me to confide about Trip—and, for Amanda’s sake, I couldn’t do that.

3:38 p.m. Was Trip the type of guy to be early? Late? On time? More importantly, why did I care? After spending the entire lunch period trying not to have anything to do with Trip, now I couldn’t get him off my mind. It was Julie’s fault. She’d pointed out that he was hot. Not that I hadn’t noticed, but now it was in the forefront of my mind and I couldn’t get rid of it.

I turned to the mirror on the back of my door and stared, wondering what a wanna-be-cop looked for in a girl. Jeans. Blue T-shirt. Limp ponytail. Not exactly supermodel material. Maybe he’d go for brains? Or mind reading capabilities?

Let’s see. I eyed myself critically. Round green eyes. Okay, maybe more squinty than round. And well, a little more hazel than green. Dark thick lashes, yeah right—maybe if I applied some dark thick mascara. Button-like Jennifer Aniston nose. I grinned at myself. I’d always been proud of my nose. And my lips were decent. Not collagen filled but definitely kissable.

So with all that going for me, what were the chances Trip would pick me over some other girl at school? I let out my breath. About a gazillion to one. Maybe I’d finally get Julie to give me that makeover.

For this afternoon though, I needed to make do.

I sucked my stomach in, chest out, and threw the mirror a flirty pout. I shuddered. It bore a scary resemblance to Derek’s Blue Steel from
Zoolander.
My flirting still needed work. Better to focus on my assets instead.

What could I do in four minutes? Hmmm. I pulled out my ponytail holder and ran a brush through the bumpy half circle the rubber band had left behind. This was not going well.

Giving up on my hair, I set the brush on my dresser and searched through the crystal jewelry box for my favorite bracelet that had been my mother’s—it wasn’t there. Weird. I always left it in the exact same place. I’d taken it off Wednesday night, on the offhand theory that the magnetic pull of the earth had connected with the metal in the bracelet and caused me to read minds. It had been a long shot, but not like I had any better answers as to what prompted this weird ability.

There were other trinkets in the jewelry box, but my bracelet was definitely M.I.A. I let out an exasperated breath. It figured. No lucky bracelet when I needed it most.

The front doorbell gave a pathetic sounding ring.

4:00 p.m. The guy was punctual. Impressive.

I shoved my hair back into a knot with the rubber band, pulled a few wisps around my face, and then groaned at the reflection in the mirror. My bland hair, plain face and comfy clothes had never bugged me before but suddenly it all mattered too much.

Trying to push my insecurities out of my mind, I hurried to the front door, checked the peephole, and took a deep breath. He was just a person. I talked to people all the time. Nothing to worry about.

I opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He stood on my front mat, wearing the same black shirt and pants he’d had on earlier. His hair was different though. He’d combed it back and I had the urge to shake my hands through it to return his tousled look. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” I stepped away from the door and he came into our dimly lit living room.

He put his hands in his pockets, then pivoted to face me as I closed the door. “You’re not still mad at me are you?”

No. “Yes.”

“Sorry,” he said, but didn’t look the slightest bit. “Just remember it’s for a good cause. Nobody said protecting the world was easy.”

My brows came together. “Who said I wanted to protect the world?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Edmond Dant
és
does. In
The Count of Monte Cristo
.” Oh, no. Had I really just said that?

He gave me an odd look, then pulled out a memo pad from his back pocket. “I guess we should get started.”

“Of course we should.” What was wrong with me? We had a kidnapper to find and I was comparing Trip to Edmond Dant
és
? “Okay, do you have a plan or something?”

Trip sat on the arm of our dingy sofa and flipped open the pad of paper. “We need a reason to arrest Bishop. Let’s start going over everything from the beginning to see if there’s something we’ve missed.”

I sat on the recliner, opposite of him, and pulled my knees up to my chest. “Didn’t we already do that at lunch?”

“Indulge me.”

I wondered if there was a double entendre there. “Um, what?”

“Start at the beginning. Again.”

Oh, right. The case.

His flashy green eyes held mine, unwavering. “What was the first thing you saw in your head when you read Bishop’s mind?”

Apparently he’d gotten a grip on the fact that I could read minds. Didn’t seem nervous at all, in fact. Probably bluffing again. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his arm.

He didn’t flinch.

Wow.
My stomach warmed. Major difference from his jitters earlier today. Maybe there’s hope yet that the world won’t think I’m a freak.

I stared at my hand, curled around Trip’s well-muscled forearm. Maybe I’d actually have a relationship with a guy some day. Maybe this guy. After all, he knew I could read minds and hadn’t pulled away when my hand touched his arm . . . oh my gosh. My hand was still on his arm! My eyes flicked up to his.

He watched me with an even stare, studying me.

My face flushed as I released him, finally—not to mention regretfully. My palm felt tingly and warm. “Uh, sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

His mouth twitched.

I rolled my eyes, cheeks still hot. “You don’t have to look so smug.”

He chuckled, and his eyes lit up. “I’ve adjusted to the situation.”

A zing went through my body. For the first time, he wasn’t talking shop. “Mind if I shake your hand then?”

His smug look faded. “What are you hoping to find out?”

“Whatever you want to keep secret,” I said, raising an eyebrow. Was I flirting? Properly?

He smiled. “You mean like my credit card numbers? My ATM code?”

Wowzers! Now he’d cracked a joke. We were actually having fun. “Maybe I’d just find out how Officer Collins knows my dad.”

Trip’s smile dissolved, his eyes went dark, and he shifted in his seat.

Odd. “Or, something else?”

Not exactly quick on my feet.

“We have a lot of ground to cover.” He clicked open the pen and steadied it over his pad. “Tell me what you remember about your read with Bishop. Don’t leave anything out.”