Chosen (Second Sight) (6 page)

“Right,” Susan said. “Right.”

“Ten o’clock,” Isabelle said. Susan’s unfocused eyes shifted one way and then the other. “Susan?”

Her eyes quickly narrowed and her upper lip curled into a sneer.

“That smarmy bastard
Geoffrey
,” she said. “The whole place makes me sick.” She finally met Isabelle’s gaze. “I’ll be here. Ten
sharp
.”

Without another word, Susan put the Volvo in drive and hit the gas. Isabelle barely had time to back away as the car jumped away from the curb with a little squeal from the tires. As she watched it head to the corner and round it without so much as a pause, Isabelle hoped Susan would make it home without a ticket.

Or at least in one piece.

As she turned to the stairs, she glanced up to the landing in front of her door. For a moment, she thought she might see Mac. But the landing was empty and her heart sank a little. As she climbed the steps, she checked the time on her cellphone. It was getting late.

Inside, she put her purse on the small table next to the door.
 

Maybe she’d text Mac, see where he was, but she hesitated. She had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Would a text interrupt him? She stared down at the phone, her thumb hovering over it. On different coasts, they hadn’t really done this sort of thing–partly because of the time zones, partly because their day-to-day lives were so separate. Instead, they talked on the phone every evening.

Maybe she should just wait.

As she set the phone on the table, the flashing red light on the answering machine caught her attention. She pressed the play button.

“Thought I might catch you at home but I guess not,” said Yolanda’s voice. “Just wanted to know how it went today.” There was a pause. “Oh, and I took a look at tall, dark, and hunky,” she said. Isabelle’s heart nearly stopped.
Had Yolanda done a reading?
“Just seeing him from the street, that much was
clear
.” Isabelle exhaled with relief. “But remember what I said.” There were footsteps on the stairs outside. “It’s not going to end well.” She heard the landing creak. “It never does. I–”

Isabelle hit the erase button.

• • • • •

As Mac was about to knock, he thought he heard a voice–a woman’s but not Isabelle’s. He balanced the box of Indian food on one arm.

“Hello?” he said, knocking.

The door opened before he’d knocked twice.

“Mac!” Isabelle said, opening the door and stepping back.

As he entered, he glanced quickly around the room and then closed the door behind him.

“I thought I heard someone,” he said.

“No one here but me,” Isabelle said, shrugging her shoulders, her voice higher than normal.
 

Mac tensed a little. He couldn’t remember her ever shrugging her shoulders. As he set the box of styrofoam containers next to her purse, she smiled nervously.
 

Something was up.

But as he began to go over the possibilities, she took a tentative step forward and stopped. Her hands had begun to reach out for him but now they grasped each other in front of her.

“What?” he asked quietly.

Her eyebrows arched briefly and she managed a little smile but it quickly faded. She glanced at the answering machine, causing him to look at it as well, and then she stared at the floor between them.

“I…um…” she tilted her head one way and then the other, as though something there worried her. She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I saw Kayla today,” she said, finally looking at him.

Why did seeing Kayla bother her so much? Had it been the old boyfriend?

“What happened?”

The whole story came pouring out: Susan, Kayla, and Daniel–who was dead; the commune; the pregnancy. Isabelle had begun pacing almost immediately. But as he was undoing his tie, she mentioned the children–all of them fathered by Geoffrey.
 

Mac stopped with the two ends of his tie in each hand.
 

“The
one
man?” Mac asked.
 

Isabelle nodded.

“I mean, I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Isabelle said, shaking her head. “All of those women. It’s just so weird.”

“Not really,” Mac said, taking off the tie and tossing it onto the couch, followed by his coat. “What did you say this place was called?”

“GreenEarthCommune.org.”

Mac looked it up on his phone. The web site was slick, with a blog, a way to donate money, directions to the commune, and photographs of Geoffrey picking tomatoes.

“The digital front end is slick but
this
is a cult.”

It was something that the Behavioral Science Unit in Quantico dealt with regularly.
 

“A
cult?
”

“By any other name,” he said nodding as he passed her the phone. “From what you describe, Geoffrey is the charismatic leader. If Kayla knows he’s fathering all the children, they
all
know. And that’s okay with them. In fact, it’s more than okay.”

“A
cult?
” Isabelle repeated. “But Kayla isn’t some weak-minded fool. She’d never fall for something like that.”

“Cult members aren’t weak-minded,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re
recruited
. With sophisticated techniques.” He nodded at the phone. “With magnetic charm. With infinite patience. With a tradeoff of value to the prospective member.”

Isabelle frowned, looking at the web site.

“Such as?” she said, showing him the screen with a picture of baskets full of just-picked corn. “Health food?”

“
Simplicity
,” he said. “A life of no worries. Everything is taken care of. Every decision. Every need you might have, physical and emotional. Support from a community of people like yourself. The more it grows, the more legitimate it seems.” Isabelle gave him his phone. “They’re all young,” he continued, the profiler’s brain fully engaged. “And I’ll bet they had no interest in Susan whatsoever.” Isabelle looked up at him as though he’d read her mind. “More than likely, they all joined in a time of stressful transition. Maybe when they separated from their families.”

“Or found out they were pregnant,” Isabelle said quietly. “That’s really why Kayla’s afraid. Her child isn’t Geoffrey’s. It’s Daniel’s.”

“Well,” Mac said. “It’s good that she wants to leave. The real problem is when they
don’t
want to leave and their families can’t convince them. It doesn’t sound like
that’s
an issue.”

“No,” Isabelle said. He could already see the gears turning behind her eyes. “I know there’s a dormitory somewhere and I know she works in the kitchen.” She focused on Mac. “I’m not sure Susan should go.”

“No,” Mac said. “Not if you don’t want to make waves. And, unfortunately, neither should I. I doubt you saw many men there.”
 

“Not many.”

“He doesn’t want the competition. Only the true sycophants are welcome to stay. They’re the ones you really need to watch out for.” He gazed down at the web site on his phone. “I’ll look into this GreenEarthCommune.org from the Bureau side.”

“Really?” Isabelle said, smiling, really smiling, for the first time since he’d got home.
 

Mac paused at the thought.
 

That’s exactly what it feels like. Coming home.
 

He returned his focus to the commune.

“Approach her in a public place,” he said. “Obey the rules. Act just as you did today. You shouldn’t have a problem.”

“The only problem today was Susan,” Isabelle said. She nodded to herself. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t know how Kayla got mixed up with all this but nobody said a word about her not leaving. My reading said she was worried about the father of her baby not being Geoffrey. Nothing else. So,” Isabelle said stepping closer to him, looking more relaxed. “I’m sure you’re right.”

For a moment, she just gazed into his eyes and then she took his hands in hers, smiling. He’d just been about to wrap his arms around her when her question stopped him.

“So, what did
you
do today?”

• • • • •

“I applied for a transfer to L.A.,” Mac said. As surprised as Isabelle felt, Mac’s face looked shocked. “I was going to wait until it was approved before I told you.” He paused and looked down at her gloved hand in his. “But I don’t think that’s going to fly.”

The words took a moment to sink in.
 

Transfer.

To L.A.?

“Transfer,” she repeated. “You mean
permanently
?”
 

Mac nodded.
 

“Like
living
here? In L.A.?”

Mac nodded again. Her mind raced to grasp what he was saying.
 

No more long distance calls to Virginia?

“I didn’t want to say anything before it was approved,” he said. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.” He stooped to look directly into her face and she realized she’d been staring at his chest. She blinked once and then twice. “Isabelle?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Say something.”

But she couldn’t.
 

Instead, she jumped into his arms and hugged him fiercely around the neck.

“Mac!” she said, ready to burst. “Mac!”

He closed his big arms around her and picked her up.

“I’ll take that to mean you’re happy,” he said against her neck.

“Yes!” she said. “Yes!”

For several moments, he held her like that and Isabelle was sure that, if he hadn’t, she’d have floated away. Slowly, he set her down.

“And,” he said quietly. “Since I’m on a roll…”

“What?” she said smiling up at him.
 

What more could there possibly be?

“I thought,” he said, his blue-green eyes staring intently into hers. “I thought we’d move in together. That I would move in here.”

Here.

She glanced around her apartment.

Wait. Here?

But…her gift, the constant readings, the years it’d taken to make her apartment nearly reading-free.

“Okay,” Mac said quietly. “The roll has stopped.” He paused and watched her face. “I thought you might be happy about that.”

“No!” Isabelle said, tightening her grip around his neck. “I
am
. It’s just that…” He cocked his head at her, waiting. “Well, I don’t know,” she said, fumbling for words. Finally, she said the only thing she could think of. “I don’t know what to say.”

Mac gave her a little smile but he was obviously disappointed.

“Fair enough,” he said. “I know it’s a surprise.”

Mac living
here
. She stared hard into his gorgeous eyes. It was
wonderful
to have him close. Every time they’d said good-bye had been agony. The days without him had been empty. And now he was saying that would end.
 

But could it really work?
 

Because, if it didn’t…there was no going back. You don’t just stop living with someone. You end the relationship.
 

Mac was the best thing that’d ever happened to her. She wouldn’t lose him.
She couldn’t.

She glanced at the answering machine.

‘It’s not going to end well.’

Dread welled up inside her so fast that she sucked in a breath.
 

“Hey,” Mac said. “It doesn’t
have
to be.” She realized she’d been staring at the machine and looked up into his face. His eyes searched hers, back and forth, as his eyebrows knit together furiously. He gently pulled her into a hug. “Okay,
enough
,” he said quietly. He cradled her head against his chest. “We don’t have to talk about this now. I don’t even know if I’ll get the transfer.”
 

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. She hugged him tightly in return, not sure she could trust her voice. For several moments, he seemed content just to hold her and she took in a long, shuddering breath. As he finally released his hold and backed up, Isabelle prepared herself for whatever his reaction might be. Disappointment? Frustration? Maybe even anger? That’s how it’d been with relationships in the past. Was this the end that she had been dreading all this time? But as she chanced a look into his face, all she saw was the usual Mac: the hint of a smile curving his lips, his eyes alight as though from within, his square jaw tilted down to her.

“There’s just one more thing,” he said. “Did I mention I brought dinner?”

As though he’d been waiting for her, Geoffrey was nearly at the gate by the time Isabelle got out of the car.

“Isabelle!” he said, the delight in his voice sounding so sincere that she had to remind herself he’d fathered all the children she could see behind him. “I’m
so
glad to see you again.” He held out his hand to her and, though the thought of touching him made her shiver, she held out her hand and he quickly took it in a gentle grasp between both of his. “Our visit yesterday ended so…abruptly.” He checked the car behind her. “I see you’re alone today.”

“Susan didn’t want to come,” Isabelle lied, as Geoffrey immediately led her along the gravel path.
 

In fact, it’d taken Isabelle at least thirty minutes to calm Susan down over the phone and another fifteen when she’d picked up her car. Only meeting Mac, who’d dropped her off, had convinced Susan to stay behind.

At the thought of him, Isabelle felt a tightening in her chest. After dinner, the rest of the night had been quiet–a little too quiet. Though Mac had talked about his interview, he’d never tried to touch her. They’d gone to bed without making love.

It wasn’t a first but it was unusual.

And it felt wrong.
 

All night she’d wondered what was going through his mind. Yet again, she’d thought about doing a reading and had to force the idea away.

Geoffrey walked as close to her as he possibly could.

“I think it’s probably for the best that you’re on your own,” Geoffrey said, sounding completely understanding. “Perhaps we can pick up where we left off?”