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“I’ll come back soon. I promise. I’m sorry it
took me this long to visit, but now—now I know where you are. I’ll
be back.”

“Tasmyn, are you ready for your first
mission?”

Startled, I looked up from my plate of
raviolis, expecting to see Cathryn standing at my shoulder. The
dining hall was fairly busy for the lunch hour, but my table was
empty, save for my own food and a pile of books from my sociology
class. Unless Cathryn had picked up a new trick—invisibility—she
wasn’t anywhere near me.

I glanced around the room one more time, and
then I saw her. She moved from the food area toward me with her
typical feline grace, and as that thought crossed my mind, I
clamped down the purple veil, making sure I was off-limits.

Pulling out a chair across from me, she
smirked. “Nice recovery there. I almost completely missed your
usual resentment of me.”

I laid down my fork and regarded her
steadily. “I don’t resent you at all, Cathryn. Might be the other
way around, don’t you think?” When she didn’t answer, I took a long
pull from my glass of sweet tea before continuing. “So what’s up?
Why the mind games?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just
playing with you. Things get monotonous, and I like to shake them
up. You haven’t had one outrageous thought about me—that I’ve
heard—in over a month. I wanted to see if I could take you by
surprise.”

I spread out my hands. “Well, it worked.
Color me surprised. Now what do you mean by mission?”

Cathryn smiled and leaned closer, dropping
her voice. “We had something come up that we think would be perfect
for your first assignment. It’s this afternoon, and the meeting
place is only about fifteen minutes away. I’ll pick you up at 3:45
this afternoon outside your dorm. Dress professionally.”

Anticipation that I hadn’t expected bubbled
within me. “Can you tell me about it? What will I be doing?”

Cathryn shook her head. “Not here. We’ll talk
in the car on the way over. For future assignments, you’ll get the
details through encrypted email, but this was last minute. Don’t
worry, you’ll be fine.”

I called Michael to tell him what was going
on, so he wouldn’t be concerned in case I was late for dinner.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, apprehension
coloring his own voice.

“I don’t think so,” I said, standing in my
closet, trying to decide what constituted a professional outfit.
“More excited. I’m not sure I’m as prepared as I thought I would
be, but maybe that’s their method—throwing me into the deep
end.”

“Be careful.” I couldn’t hear his mind, but I
knew what he would be thinking.

“I promise, if anything at all feels off, I’m
out of there. I’ll call you to get me. And I’ll text you when I’m
ready to meet you to eat.”

Cathryn was punctual as always. I climbed
into her car without a word, and she pulled smoothly from the
curb.

As I struggled to connect my seat belt, she
tossed a folder onto my lap. “Some information for today.”

I flipped it open and perused the first page.
“So. . .we’re meeting this guy? Matthew Cummings?”

“Yes, he’s our client. He owns a large farm
not too far away, and one of his family members wants to buy it.
Mr. Cummings is older and doesn’t have any children of his own, so
he is willing to sell in order to keep the property in the family.
However, he’s recently gotten some information that brings the true
intent of his nephew into question. That’s why we’re involved.”

I frowned. “I don’t get it. I’m supposed to
find out if his nephew is telling the truth?”

“Essentially, yes. They both think that the
meeting today is to iron out some last minute details before the
sale closes in a few weeks. But really, you’ll be listening to the
nephew, finding out what he plans to do.”

“How did the farmer find out about
Carruthers? And if he’s our client, why doesn’t he know what the
meeting today is really about?”

Cathryn changed lanes, glancing up at the
mirror as she answered me. “Mr. Cummings doesn’t know that he’s our
client. Well, that’s not true, strictly speaking. His attorney
hired us, knowing what we do, but Mr. Cummings thinks we’re from
the title company.”

“Oh.” I watched the landscape rush by along
the highway. One of the few things Cathryn and I had in common was
a love for speed. The difference was that she owned a car that
could satisfy that need. “So I’m, what, a secretary?”

“You’re my assistant.” Amused satisfaction
filled Cathryn’s voice. “I’m your boss.”

You wish
, I thought, not bothering to
keep my shield in place. She rolled her eyes and added, “Try to at
least pretend you believe that. If you’re unobtrusive, no one will
pay enough attention to you to question it. Fiona is meeting us
there, and she’s a stenographer, also working for us.”

“Fee’s coming?” The idea of having a friendly
face there made me feel a little less apprehensive. “But why do you
need me, if Fee can tell you what the future outcome will be?”

“Fiona’s talents work best in conjunction
with other gifts. The future is a slippery thing, and it often
depends on intent. You can hear the nephew’s intent, and that will
help Fiona to determine the most likely future.”

“But you could do that yourself.”

“Yes, I can and I will be listening, too. But
I’m just there as back up for you. On your first few assignments,
we like to have some cushion for you, just in case you miss
anything essential.”

I was silent, mulling it all over. “So what
do I do? How does it work?”

“Very easy.” Cathryn took the next exit,
smoothly merging onto a four-lane road. “We go in, sit down,
listen. There will be introductions, so pay attention; you need to
know which one is the nephew. Take notes, if you need to. No one
will question that. You’ll sit away from the table, somewhat behind
me. Stay in character the whole time we’re in the meeting. That’s
very important. Don’t share any information until we are alone in
the car.”

I nodded. “Okay, got that. What about Fee? Do
I know her?”

“Sure. Be as natural as possible. Don’t over
think this, Tasmyn. I promise if you follow my lead, it will go
smoothly. This is an easy case, which is why we decided to bring
you in today. Here we are.”

The attorney’s office was in a sprawling
white single story building. Cathryn parked in the front and
climbed out briskly, going to the back to retrieve a wheeled case.
I followed her, and without a word she piled a stack of folders
into my arms. I focused on pretending that I worked for her and
trailed her through the wide doors.

She paused to speak with the receptionist,
smiling and handing across a business card. We were directed into a
conference room down the hallway.

“Hi, Tas!” Fiona greeted me as we entered the
room. “Good to see you again.” She was quelling her natural
exuberance, I could feel, and I shot her a quick smile of
understanding.

There wasn’t time for more than that, as
other people came in on our heels. Five men with loud voices
crowded around the table, all talking sports.

Cathryn set up her case and files at the far
end of the table, and I moved to stand behind her, surreptitiously
watching the others. Fee sat down near us with a small computer
that I deduced was her stenographer machine. The men sat down, too,
and I finally had time to examine them.

I immediately recognized Matthew Cummings. He
was the oldest man in the room, and he looked uncomfortable in his
suit pants and shoes. He was also the only man not wearing a suit
jacket and tie. Instead, the long sleeves on his dress shirt were
neatly rolled to his elbows.

The others were not so easily pegged, but I
figured them out by listening to their minds. The tall dark-haired
man sitting at Mr. Cummings right was his attorney, who had hired
us for this job. The younger blonde was the nephew, but I couldn’t
place the man muttering into his ear. I was pretty sure the gray
haired short guy was the nephew’s lawyer.

“Well, let’s get started, folks.” Mr.
Cummings’ lawyer raised his voice to be heard over the chatter.
“Thanks for being here today, and on such short notice. I’m Gil
Robins, as most of you know. . .” He grinned, glancing around the
table. “My client, the seller, Mr. Cummings. The buyer, Patrick
Holmes--” The blonde man raised his hand and beamed a smile. “His
attorney, Mr. Elkins. And Patrick, I’m sorry, your business
partner’s name is. . .?”

“Brice Donavan.” The man spoke for himself
and nodded around the table.

“Donavan, yes. And down at the end of the
table is the team from Trust Title.” They spared us barely a
glance; from their thoughts, I gleaned that we were of little more
importance than the table or chairs. That was fine. I was being
paid to be inconspicuous, after all.

The meeting began, with Mr. Robins leading
the discussion on various boring topics. I tried to focus on
Patrick Holmes’ thoughts, but he was just listening to the droning
voices. I was struggling to keep my eyes open when there was a
sudden surge of interest in the nephew’s mind. His uncle had just
spoken.

“Patrick, I want to put a clause in the
contract of sale that requires you to keep this land within our
family, to keep farming the land. Rent it out if you want to, you
don’t have to be the one to do the work. But this farm has been in
our family for generations and--”

“Uncle Matt, don’t you trust me?” Patrick’s
voice was kind. I tuned into his deeper thoughts, but all I heard
was one word.

Convince. Convince. Convince.

I frowned and suppressed a sigh. That could
go either way. Even if he were being honest about his intentions,
he would want his uncle to believe him.

Matthew Cummings didn’t answer directly; he
just pursed his lips and looked at his nephew.

Just get the old man to sign it over. Then
we’re free and clear. Can do whatever we want.

It wasn’t Patrick I heard, but his partner,
the man who sat back in his chair, a pleasant smile on his face.
His thoughts weren’t a confession or a slam-dunk indictment, but
they were suspect enough in my book.

I slid my eyes toward Cathryn. She didn’t
move but I felt the slight lowering of her block as she thought,
I heard it.

“Patrick, I don’t think it’s a matter of
trust. If you can assure your uncle that you will do all in your
power to follow his wishes concerning this property, we can
proceed.” Mr. Robins smiled genially at both men, and I picked up
his concern that a big fee was potentially slipping through his
fingers.

My glance ping-ponged back and forth between
the two men. Patrick’s mind was in turmoil, but I finally heard him
think,
Tell him what he wants to hear.

This time Cathryn’s head moved in a barely
perceptible nod and I heard Fee think,
Got him. I can see it
now.

“Uncle Matt, I promise you, I will honor the
farm just as you have. I won’t let you down.”

There was a pause, and then Mr. Cummings
nodded to his attorney. The rest of the meeting proceeded smoothly,
and pretty soon everyone was gathering their papers, preparing to
leave.

I leaned up to Cathryn. “That’s it? Shouldn’t
we say anything?” I murmured.

She looked back to me, a slight warning in
her eyes. “Yes, thanks, Tasmyn. You can take everything out to the
car. I’ll be along shortly.” She handed me the keys and turned
away.

Rebuked, I pressed my lips in a firm line and
grabbed the handle of her wheeled bag, Fee held the door for me as
we walked out in silence. At the car, she helped me load the bag
into Cathryn’s miniscule trunk.

“You did great,” she whispered behind the
cover of the raised trunk. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, as quietly as I
could. “It was okay, I guess. I don’t feel like I did anything,
though.”

“I know, it seems that way at first.” She
patted my arm. “But you did make a difference. You just might not
know about it right away.”

Cathryn didn’t say much at first on our drive
back to Perriman. When she did speak, it was in a measured
tone.

“That went well, Tasmyn. You handled your
first assignment without any problem.”

“Did you tell the lawyer? About the nephew, I
mean?”

She shook her head. “I’ll send him my report
tonight, including our findings along with Fiona’s. From there,
it’ll be up to him.”

I felt a growing unease. “But they’ll tell
Mr. Cummings, right? So he won’t sell the farm to his nephew?” I
wrinkled my nose and shuddered. “He gave me the creeps.”

“That’s up to the attorney. We just report
what we hear, what Fiona sees. We can’t make their decisions for
them.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “So it
might not have done any good at all. It might have been a waste of
time.”