The Whole Truth (The Supercharged Files Book 1) (14 page)

He blinked a couple times. “I’ll
consider it. But you’ve got to wind this up, Cleo, before we leak ourselves
dryer than the Atacama. I need to set a deadline.”

An unpleasant feeling settled in
my stomach along with the last swallow of doughnut. “What if I can’t make the
deadline?”

“We’ll switch to a more direct
approach and hold mandatory interviews. I’m sorry, Cleo. We’re losing too much
business, and my employees are being hurt. I have to act.”

“Do you mean interviews where you
ask people if they’re traitors and I pretend to be your secretary?” I said hopefully.

“I mean interviews where Samantha
pushes compliance and you ask questions.”

I squeezed my hands together, my
fingers sticky with sugar. “Then Lou can make them forget it happened.”

“No.” Yuri didn’t smile.
“Multiple touch effects aren’t healthy, and touch skills tend to negate each
other anyway.”

“If people know what I can do,
they’ll hate...I mean, it will ruin my advantage.” Pushed by Sam, read by me...
The giant violation of privacy wouldn’t go over well, and my coworkers and
friends would all find out about it the worst way possible. Samantha and I
would be personas non grata, with more hostility funneled at me because
Samantha was a known quantity.

“It’s dirty but it’s quick,” Yuri
agreed. “We can’t sit around and let our employees be attacked. We’re already
having to consider layoffs, even with the attrition.”

Starting with me, I bet. “At
least organize a picnic first.”

He inclined his wrinkly, bald
head. “All right. We could use a day off. I need to make some calls and find a
safe location. You can’t hold a supra function just anywhere.”

Though I’d gotten Yuri to agree
to a stay of execution, I left the office feeling worthless. Our deal from the
beginning had been that once I found the mole, I could be an ordinary
consultant. I wouldn’t be asked to pry into my coworker’s secrets ever again. I
don’t know to what extent I’d have been befriended if everyone had known my
ability from day one, but if they realized I’d been probing them for months,
I’d be as ostracized as a whistle blower.

I’d waited so long to meet others
like me, only to find I might still be avoided, disliked,
different
,
whether or not my skill bumped me up the food chain. I’d be the caviar atop the
USDA pyramid all by myself.

Who wants to hang out with smelly
fish eggs?

~ * ~

Not John Arlin, that was for
sure. He ignored my texts all week, asking him if he’d like me to burn a copy
of the
Hero Wars
finale for him. Another to see if he liked the
brownies. One more to see if he’d received my other messages. A last one to ask
if he wanted to sign Adam Donning’s get well card. It wasn’t as if I messaged,
“U want 2 go steady, txt Y / N, pleez nsr.”

John and Samantha had taken over
the job in Cool Springs, so neither was in the office, but it wasn’t like John
to ignore texts. Was the thought of a relationship with me that horrific?
Whenever my cell phone buzzed, I got all excited, thinking he’d responded, but
apparently my little friend had gotten my number and was using it to send me
more helpful advice about the evils of inquisitiveness.

My friend was watching me, and my
friend was not happy. My friend also knew how to use the internet to send
anonymous texts.

Well, I’d given Sheila a great
show this week. After Yuri lowered the boom, I increased my mole hunting to
anytime I could escape from the lab. My desk gathered dust, and my mouth did
not. Since Adam and the burnouts were the topic du jour, I was safe bringing it
up. Incessantly. The other YuriCorpers were starting to think I was a slacker
and a rubbernecker, but I’d hardly be written up for dereliction of duty.

I had to keep my chin up. Once
this was over, I could be the hard worker I wanted to be. They’d change their
opinions. They’d like me again. It all hinged on me finding out the truth.

Samantha, back from Cool Springs,
pounced me mid-week as I was finishing my ten-thirty coffee break with Lou. The
conversation had been fruitless insofar as the mole was concerned, but I did
find out Sheila and Bob were having relationship trouble. I was tempted to send
Sheila a message of commiseration from “a friend”.

I’d nearly forgotten my thirst
for vengeance for what Sam did to John and me, but I remembered when I saw her.
She was wearing a chic designer suit with whiskey-colored accents that reminded
me of John’s eyes.

“Have a nice weekend?” she asked.
She ticced her head to the side. “I see you didn’t spend it clothes shopping.”

I inspected my black slacks and
brocade blouse with the Mandarin collar and frog closures. “What’s wrong with
my outfit?”

“Nothing.” She cupped her fingers
over her mouth, which interfered with my ability to read what her mask was
saying. Great. She’d learned another trick to help her lie to me.

“What I wouldn’t give to be fifty
pounds lighter and twenty years younger.” Lou dabbed White Shoulders perfume
behind her ears. I wondered if she could erase the fact I wanted to kill
Samantha so I wouldn’t follow through with it and get myself arrested. “I’d
give you girls a run for your money. All these hot men wouldn’t know what hit
‘em.”

“I’m not much of one for running,”
I said to Lou. “As for the fifty pounds, you’re in better shape than half the
people I know.” She wasn’t small, but she wasn’t obese, either. Lou was a tank
with a modern day bee-hive.

She capped her perfume bottle and
eyed me with familiar shrewdness. “My trainer could fit you into her schedule.
You should call her.”

When Samantha laughed, I changed
the subject. “Lunch tomorrow, Lou?”

“What are we having?” Samantha
asked.

“Stuff from home. I’m sure you’d
prefer to go out.” I should eat lunch with different people every day since
talk loosened up at meals—the things you learn over pastrami on rye—but Lou was
working her way through a bunch of casseroles left over from a Lampey reunion
at her family farm, and I was helping.

It was the least I could do for
my best source of company gossip. The woman had a mind like a steel trap. As an
eraser, which Lou had assured me was more harmless than it sounded, it was only
natural she herself could remember everything.

“You didn’t tell me about your
weekend, Cleo,” Samantha said. “Did it go as planned?”

She hadn’t put two and two
together when John had given her the stink eye? Surely he had. They’d spent the
past several days on assignment together.

“Go away, Samantha.” I
half-turned, aware Lou was listening to our confrontation.

“I thought you had to work this
week-end,” Lou said. “That’s why you couldn’t come to church Sunday.”

“I did have to work.” I hadn’t
shared my crush on John with Lou or everyone at YuriCorp would have known
within the hour. Hell, she might have blasted a mass email. Her unique version
of honesty meant telling everyone everything that crossed her mind. She loved
two and only two things more than the sweeping drama of YuriCorp: her family
and her stance on supra politics.

Lou squirted White Shoulders
lotion on her hands, layering her signature scent. “The way they work you,
you’ll never get down to the beach house. Several of us are going in a couple
weeks. I got a new bathing suit.”

“All work and no waves,” I
agreed. “By the way, I went by your nephews’ apartment, and they weren’t there.
I’m beginning to think your relatives don’t exist.”

Except for Herman. I’d taken him
a couple of John’s brownies and told him they were pie, when in fact they were
a bribe for him to turn his television down.

The bribe hadn’t worked. Herman
didn’t care for “pie” without a crust.

“The twins’ job takes them out of
town a lot,” Lou said with a little smile.

“Aren’t they with the PI agency?”

Lou nodded. I wished the agency
would take Uncle Herman out of town a lot so I could get a good night’s sleep
for a change.

Samantha butted in. “Lou, ask
Cleo about her new bed.”

Lou was about to when I cut her
off. “Look at the time. If I’m late again, Beau will pitch a fit. Gotta go.”

Samantha chased me out of the reception
area. “You can’t leave me hanging like this.”

I didn’t want to air my
grievances in public. Aside from being labeled a nosy slacker, which was bad
enough, my name hadn’t been tossed into the YuriCorp gossip pool yet, and I’d
prefer to stay dry as long as possible. I’d prefer my coworkers accept me as
long as possible. If Yuri had his way—and he would, because he was the boss—everyone
might despise me soon enough, even if I saved them from an ugly encounter with
a saboteur.

“What you did Saturday was unethical,”
I said quietly. “I’ve asked you not to do that.”

“I just wanted to help.” She
tried to catch up, but her legs were shorter than mine. “There was no other way
you’d get what you were after.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Even with
her shove, I hadn’t begun a torrid affair with John. Now I never would.

“Trust me, Cleo, it’s true. Slow
down.”

We reached my cubicle, and I
slammed my purse into the desk drawer. Was I truly worried Samantha might be
YuriCorp’s leak or was I pissed by her interference?

“You don’t do anybody any
favors,” I said, repeating what John had told me.

“I thought you’d be pleased.”
Samantha blocked my exit from the cubicle by grabbing each side of the opening.
“You know who acted like nothing had happened.”

True. So John hadn’t given her
the stink eye.

“I won’t do it again,” she said.

“Don’t lie to me,” I said,
suddenly tired. The tossing and turning I’d done last night and the fact I’d
had only two coffee breaks today didn’t help. “It’s exhausting.”

Our chase down cubicle alley had
alerted our nearest coworkers that something exciting was afoot. Next thing you
know, we’d be fighting over a man—or in a lover’s quarrel ourselves.

Samantha lowered her voice. “I’ll
try not to do it again. It can be instinctive for me. I don’t always think
about it.”

I switched my computer on, hoping
the whir and hum of start up would dissuade eavesdroppers. “You told me I could
thank you later. That’s premeditated. Well, no thanks.”

“Okay, Saturday wasn’t instinct.”
She flipped her hair back. “I promise not to do that type of thing again,
unless you ask me to.”

That, she meant.

“I’d never ask for that.” If I
quit hanging out with Samantha during my smidgen of free time, I’d get lonely.
Dan was a five hour drive away, Pavarti’s visiting hours were limited, and
Ursula was usually out of town. I might break down and go to Lou’s church.
Worse, I might agree to meet her at the gym.

Samantha was the only person I
could be myself with.

The only one ever.

I should have more sympathy. She
kept influencing me with her nasty little hands and asking for forgiveness.
Kept calling me, kept pursuing me for what must pass as friendship in her
world. Most YuriCorpers avoided her despite her relationship with the boss man,
just like they’d avoid me if they found out what I could do.

You couldn’t always trust your
reactions around Sam, but you didn’t get to have secrets around me, not for
long. Unsurprisingly, it was easier to feel sorry for myself than the beautiful
and self-possessed Ms. Graves.

“One more chance,” I conceded,
giving up my revenge fantasy, which may or may not have included unearthing her
as the saboteur. I’d be too busy with my mole hunt and my consulting debut to
inflict proper payback, anyway.

Samantha reached out as if hug
me. I flinched back and glared at her.

“Old habits,” she said with a
shrug.

The question wasn’t whether
Samantha would push me again. The question was how embarrassing or painful it
would be next time.

Chapter 12

My Adventures in
People Skills

With some trepidation, I received
my first official assignment for a corporate merger at an investment firm
outside Atlanta. A larger corporation had bought a smaller one and wanted us to
assess staff capabilities and make recommendations as to who was working up to
their potential, whose jobs were redundant, and so on.

Basically who to fire and who to
keep.

“I hate this type of assignment.”
John closed another manila folder and leaned back in his chair, stretching.

John and I, at a decorous
distance of several yards, had been poring over documents about both companies
prepared by the downtownies all week. My brain felt so swollen by knowledge I’d
considered applying cocoa butter to my skull for the stretch marks.

“I thought merger assessments
were one of the easiest next to motivational seminars.” The project had been
assigned with my specific talents—or lack thereof—in mind. It was going to be
tricky to explain my insights in the field to Beau, but I’d figure something
out.

“It’s not the difficulty. The
point of
kaizen
is to improve performance and preserve jobs.”

“What if people aren’t doing
crap?” Many people took advantage of their employers and had the work ethic of
hyenas. I should know. “They deserve to lose their jobs.”

“Management should help employees
maximize their potential.”

“Some people don’t have much
potential.” I’d always been powerless to use my knowledge to ensure people got
their comeuppance. I couldn’t even guarantee I was protected from their
lameness. In a sick fashion, I was looking forward to giving idlers the thumbs
down.

John frowned and returned to the
documents. “We should finish these.”

I was a cynic, with good reason.
John wasn’t. I guess he had reasons as well. We were different at the core,
John and I, and he’d made his preferences plain the night of the bed moving.
I’d tried to accept it, but he was smart and handsome and smelled nice, which
figured, since he had to smell himself all the time with that magic nose of
his. Interoffice dating wasn’t discouraged. Or intraoffice dating. Or any
combination of supra hook-up one could imagine. His unwillingness to get
involved with a coworker didn’t wash.

My guess was, John wasn’t
interested because he knew what I could do and didn’t want to be any closer.
Who would? You’d have to be honest about everything, always, and that was hard.

Or maybe it was my sunny
disposition.

“Don’t forget Al’s new security
protocol,” John said. He indicated a blue binder.

“I won’t.” Since receiving the
assignment, I’d been so busy cramming that I’d put aside any personal worries
about the firestarter on the loose. Pavarti’s specialists thought she’d regain
some physical mobility but not her suprasenses. Adam Donning’s situation was
even less certain. The burnouts were big water cooler buzz.

Bigger buzz, though, was who’d be
next to quit. Several at-risk individuals had hightailed it to other companies
after the news about Adam had trickled down to the staff.

“It’s important,” John said
somberly. His sense of humor, or lack thereof, was not one of his attractive
features. “We need to take extra precautions on assignments now.”

“Our downtownies have known about
this merger assignment for a month. I don’t know why Yuri ruled them out,” I
whispered. We had no blanket in here, but two consultants talking about safety
measures on the job wouldn’t be suspicious.

“They don’t know who’s going or
when,” John said. “We’ve restricted scheduling details.”

All our consultants did have one
thing in common. “Everyone with suprasenses is affected by amp, right?”

John flipped the page he was
reading. “It varies. Most of us are.”

“Who’s to say the bad guys
haven’t found something like amp? They could spring it on any of us at any
time.” While it wouldn’t be as painful for me to live like a norm as it would someone
else, that didn’t mean I wanted anyone mucking with my synapses. One thing I’d
come to appreciate while working here—the way my brain spazzed was part of what
made me, me.

Moreover, the threat of a
debilitating stroke couldn’t be ignored. While the YuriCorpers believed to have
been attacked hadn’t all suffered strokes, it seemed to be a new pattern.

“None of the victims have had
traces of unexpected chemicals in their blood work, their skin, their hair
follicles—anywhere.”

What if it wasn’t a chemical?
Norms suffered strokes due to a variety of conditions. “I had this idea—”

A sharp, impatient rap swung the
half-open door the rest of the way open. I turned too quickly, splattering a
stack of employee files to the ground. Beau. “What are you doing out of your
cave?”

He arced an eyebrow. Now there
was a man as cynical as I was who still didn’t appreciate my wit and viewpoint
on life. “I need you in the lab.”

“She’s busy here.” John pointed
at the files on the floor. “You need to go over these, too.”

For two guys who had no interest
in me as a romantic partner, John and Beau had begun an unsubtle feud over how
I was going to spend my time. Consultant training or chameleon training?
Because Beau was a jerk, he won more battles, and I got to see firsthand what
John was like when he was annoyed with someone other than me or Samantha.

Terse to the point of silence.

“John’s right, I’m busy.” I
wished John would fight harder for me. I had more than enough surly bastard in
the morning. Why must I be cursed with Beau in the afternoon too?

“The results of Cleo’s DNA test finally
came back from the Registry lab, and I want to run a few specialized scans.”

“What do you mean, finally came
back?” I asked, to cover my twitch. “I figured you lost them in your rat’s
nest.”

“Paperwork snafu,” Beau said. “So
they tell me. Why am I not surprised even your test results are a pain in my
ass?”

Yuri had had to do some fancy
footwork to keep my full analysis out of Beau’s hands. Out of anyone’s, for
that matter. Clearly, the dance was over.

I glanced at John to see how he’d
handle it. I’d suggested we bring Beau into the loop because there was no way
he was going to tell—you don’t share secrets with people when you hated them
all. Yuri had refused.

John, still in terse mode, said
nothing as he scribbled on an organizational chart.

“Why do I need more tests?” I
didn’t have any spare time, what with the studying and memorizing and worrying
and mole hunting.

“There were anomalies,” Beau
said.

“Maybe you should reread it with
your glasses on.”

“Maybe you should get your ass to
the lab.”

“We all have anomalies,” I told
Beau, my voice pitched higher than I liked. “You’re the one who told me that.
Everyone’s different.”

“This goes beyond different. I
have to run the tests. Arlin, tell her. It’s policy.”

John sighed and finally locked horns
with Beau. “You can’t screw up Cleo’s schedule a couple days before we go on
site.”

“Quit fighting over me, I’m not
the remote,” I said, disappointed by John’s showing.

Beau rolled his eyes. “That’s not
what we’re doing. I need to take a blood sample
before
you go on site.
The anomalies could explain why you’ve been so slow to...adapt.”

“It’s my teacher.” His mask told
me he took my failure to thrive as a personal insult to his training abilities.
I was not loathe to allow him to continue to feel that way as long as possible.

Hell, it might be him. I’d tried
harder to fade lately and hadn’t experienced a corresponding leap in
chameleoning.

Beau leaned against the doorjamb,
settled in for a drawn-out bickering session. “I showed Jolene the charts, and
she agrees.”

“You actually consulted someone
else?”

“Jolene’s got my back,” he said.
“Now come on. We have work to do.”

John craned around to focus on
Beau without giving him the courtesy of a chair swivel. “Save it for after
Atlanta, Walker.”

Oooh, John had resorted to last
name calling. I dropped to the floor and started reconstructing the personnel
files I’d demolished. John knew as well as I did it was a bad idea if our
resident geneticist dug into my DNA.

“She’s not ready,” Beau said.
“This is a terrible time to start somebody untrained.”

“She’ll be ready.” In a rare
display, a mask of fibbing hovered around John’s face.

I rubbed my eyes, but the lie was
still there. Even knowing what I could do, John didn’t think I was up to this.

“One day won’t make a
difference,” Beau said. “I don’t see why Yuri has so much confidence in an
underachieving chameleon.”

Beau’s mask was equally weak. He
wasn’t telling a one hundred percent truth, but combined with John’s
uncertainty, my ego smarted like a knee that’s been scraped when you fell on
the stairs while carrying a bed you should have had the sense to hire someone
else to move. Their misgivings about me grew deeper the more time they spent
with me. Yuri had put me on notice, and Samantha thought she could lie to me
and get away with it.

I’d thought what I could do was
special. Maybe it, maybe I, wasn’t, if I was such a ditz I couldn’t do anything
with it.

I refused to let them see how
much their lack of confidence hurt my wee, girly feelings. “I know I’m green,
but I’ll have you both there to help me. Philosophy and research are nothing
compared to experience, and this is the only way I can get any experience. I’ll
fade into the background and watch you work.”

A foolish choice of words.

Beau snorted. “You, fade into the
background? That’ll be the day.”

“Don’t be ugly,” I snapped.
Conversations with Beau were like flirting, in Opposite Land. “John, I keep
asking Beau, and he won’t tell me—is there a supra ability of being nasty?”

“No,” John said. “He’s just that
way.”

“It’s a byproduct of knowing too
much about too many people.” Beau looked down at me with something like pity in
his gaze. “One day you’ll understand.”

I pinched back a response. I
understood, all right, but it hadn’t turned every word that came out of my
mouth as sour as sourcakes.

Not every single word.

“Cleo will be fine,” John
repeated, and added, somewhat darkly, “She’s better off with YuriCorp than she
would be anywhere else.”

Beau responded with that
patronizing shrug he’d perfected. There must be a nonverbal communication class
where he’d excelled in the “how to annoy people without speaking” unit.

I gathered the scattered files
and fumed. My stunted growth frustrated me, too. I worried about that. I
worried about the saboteur. I worried about YuriCorp’s fiscal health. I worried
about how to explain my performance to Beau since he knew my fade wasn’t up to
par. My life overall was unsettled. Was my uncertainty hindering my evolution
as a chameleon?

Or maybe I stunk. Not everyone
who had the relevant connections in the brain could do anything with them.

I’d almost finished stacking the
toppled folders when I noticed a sheet of yellow legal paper that had fluttered
free. Conscious of John and Beau’s growing impatience, I crawled under the
table and shoved it into a random portfolio. I’d sort everything later.

I rose and thunked the paperwork
onto the table. “I need coffee. John, do you want anything?”

“No, thanks.”

Beau shifted to block the
doorway. I’d have to boot him aside to get past. “Not going to ask me if I want
anything?”

While it might have been fun to
give him a swift kick in the nads, I kept my distance and shook my head. Not
everyone at YuriCorp was as standoffish as I’d become, but most of their
touching was behind the scenes. You did not want to open closets big enough to
hold two people at YuriCorp unless you were positive they were empty.

“I don’t care if you want
anything,” I told Beau.

He and I had this ongoing “Cleo
is my lab assistant” struggle, and I usually came out on top. It helped that I
deliberately screwed up half the tasks he gave me.

“Black, three sugars,” he said.
“You don’t have to suit up. Put it in the specimen box.”

“Rot your teeth,” John muttered.

“All right.” I compromised.
“Coffee. But no tests.”

“As soon as we get back,” Beau
said. “Come in tomorrow”—a Saturday—“and we’ll go over the security protocol
and rehash those prompts.”

“It won’t help. I can’t talk and
fade at the same time.”

“Or walk and chew gum, but Yuri
insists you keep trying,” Beau said. “You don’t want to be the first to go in
the layoffs, do you?”

“There aren’t going to be
layoffs.” Enough people were quitting now that there hardly any need. “John, I
thought you and I were going over the security protocols?”

John glanced up briefly. “It’s
not a bad suggestion. You and I don’t have time with all these personnel
files.”

“Traitor,” I hissed.

John jerked half out of his
chair. “It’s not what... Forget it. I’m breaking for lunch.”

He left the room so fast, the top
file I’d restacked flapped open and its contents ruffled to the floor.

I stared at the papers I’d just
picked up. “I guess it’s time to eat.”

“So it is,” Beau agreed. “Black,
three sugars. And a sandwich.”

~ * ~

Three days into my first
assignment, my worst fears had not come true. Finally unleashed to use my
powers for, er, good, not to mention months of cramming business textbooks, I
was not useless as a management consultant. Even without fading, I could get a
bead on people that served us well. Oh, and there were no signs of the
saboteur.

There were plenty signs of
corporate mismanagement, shabby office upkeep, and sloth, but I’d
realized...okay, John had informed me...I couldn’t recommend the new owners
fire the entire staff.