Cross Waves, page 25
Geneva grimaced and lay back on the pillow, the small amount of exertion exhausting. “It’s the other way around. Senator Torra tried to kill me. He used Rolf’s energy—the energy he’s been storing in crystals—and Kaitlyn Girard, who’s a known trainer, to hack into my mind. I thought it was Rolf and let him in. The crystals exist. Cynthia knows where they are. That’s why she’s hiding.”
Danny patted her hand, a mixture of worry and pity in his eyes. “Geneva, we all saw Rolf turn. He hacked into your mind. Then took off running like a madman through the Institution wall with you in his arms as a human shield. Rolf’s gone rogue. It’s more likely he let the senator into your mind in some deadly game he’s playing. And he’s more dangerous than you can imagine. He killed Kaitlyn. He doesn’t love you. He can’t. He’s a dark master.”
A bubble grew in the back of Geneva’s throat. She couldn’t seem to swallow it. “Kaitlyn is dead?”
Danny sat on the side of the bed and clasped Geneva’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
She pulled her hand from his and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Rolf didn’t do it.”
“Don’t be naive. He was the only one with her. Who else could it have been?”
She glared. “Me. I’m the killer. Kaitlyn got caught in the cross waves. I didn’t mean for that to happen. But you know it’s a risk trainers take every time they magnify energy waves.”
“It doesn’t change the fact Rolf’s a dark master. The guy’s a hardened sociopath.”
“Stop calling him that—he’s not a sociopath! The legends are wrong about dark masters, Danny. Rolf can love—he loves me. He has himself under control. You have to help me find him. He hasn’t gone rogue. I would know it if he has.”
Danny let out a huff and stood. “Even if I thought Rolf innocent, and I don’t, we’d need hard evidence to convince the CMU he’s not a killer. Peter’s orders are to bring him in dead or alive. He’s considered unstable. If he hasn’t turned, as you say, the likelihood of him doing so is high. Until we have proof, he’s a threat to society and the CMU.”
He strolled toward the window, stopped, and turned. Royal blue laced with streaks of muted red leaked from his aura, revealing more to Geneva than words conveyed. Her brother worried for her.
“Honestly, Geneva, I’m more concerned about you right now. The government is investigating Cynthia’s allegations. If they find evidence, anything at all, you colluded with Rolf to take her father’s life, who knows what the full consequences will be. Are you sure there’s nothing more you want to tell me?”
She sighed. “I already told you. I ejected Senator Torra from my mind because he tried to strangle me. He died in the cross waves. Rolf had nothing to do with it, other than he distracted the senator enough I could eject them from my mind. I don’t care what the government ordered. You mustn’t kill him. I promise you, evidence exists. Cynthia Torra knows where the crystals are hidden. We can find them, Danny. Once the CMU sees the crystals for themselves, they’ll know I’m telling the truth. I’m sure we can convince them to take a closer look at Rolf. He hasn’t turned. He’s promised me he won’t. I believe him.”
Danny flung a hand through his dark-blond hair, causing it to stick up in three different directions. His wrinkled shirt and whiskers indicated he hadn’t slept, or at least, not well. Red warred with bright blue in his aura. Blue won. Geneva released the air in her lungs.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll take a look around, talk to a few people and see if I can discover any info on Cynthia and the crystals. But you will stay here in this hospital room and give your body time to recover. Promise?”
“Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength to chase after you.”
“I’ll take that as a promise.” Danny moved toward the door.
“Danny, wait.” Adrenaline pounded in her veins.
Danny half-turned around, a question on his face. “What is it?
“Cynthia’s dangerous. She can wipe your talent. Don’t confront her.”
Danny gave an exaggerated eye-roll. “Still giving orders? Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet. You worry about getting better.” His gaze held hers a moment. “If Rolf contacts you, I need to know. I’m risking a lot for you. My career could be on the line.”
Geneva didn’t flinch from his gaze. “Agreed. But he won’t contact me. He’ll want to protect me. He’ll go after Cynthia. Find her, and you might get a lead on Rolf.”
44
Spa Day
Cynthia Torra pounded the pavement with her cowboy boots as she walked down Euclid Avenue, dodging a businessman in a suit and tie. It was a Wednesday, and the lunchtime crowd sought out the popular Cleveland restaurants on East 4th Street, creating a buzzing beehive of activity on the downtown city streets. Cynthia watched for anyone suspicious following her. She paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change to green, giving her plenty of time to think.
Was it yesterday morning her father’s assistant discovered his body? Gina had grown worried when he didn’t appear for his weekly staff meeting. She’d found his crumpled form on the floor of his D.C. office and called the police, who in turn called Cynthia. She’d been taping a show in New York. As Daddy had anticipated, if anything went wrong with his attack on Geneva and Rolf, they would point incriminating fingers at Cynthia. Being in New York would give Cynthia an airtight alibi.
She crossed the street and continued toward her destination: a tiny store housed in The Arcade, a grand Victorian-era structure and one of the oldest indoor shopping malls in America. The building contained five stories with gold balconies on four levels, fancy staircases on either end, and what she guessed was a three-hundred-foot glass skylight. A hotel occupied the top levels. Shops and restaurants lined the lower floors.
A flash of hot pink in a nearby store window caught Cynthia’s eye, and she took a moment to admire the glittering dress on the mannequin posed there, as well as her own reflection. A stranger with curly auburn hair under a cream cowboy hat stared back at her. Cynthia smiled and blew herself a kiss. Even a wig and hat couldn’t alter the striking lines of her face. She’d downplayed her natural good looks by not wearing any makeup and dressing in this ridiculous cowgirl outfit, boots and all. Yuck. The only thing missing were chaps and spurs.
She grimaced, promising herself a visit to a spa when all this was over. Hard to believe her clever father was dead. Aneurysm, according to the police. A massive brain hemorrhage with no hope of recovery. Estimated time of death—six p.m. the prior evening. Only Cynthia and that scumbag, Rolf Jorgensen, knew the truth. Her father had been murdered by Geneva Ericksen.
Cynthia still had trouble believing Daddy died hacking into the freak’s mind. Daddy said the crystals would work. Cynthia had no reason to doubt him. For Christ’s sake, her father was a senator, who’d planned a bid for president. He had a degree from Harvard. He was the smartest person Cynthia knew, and now he was dead. What a waste.
She turned from the store window and continued toward her destination. Her father’s death would not be in vain. No way. Not if she had anything to say about it. And she had plenty to say. She’d made sure her publicist issued a statement implicating Geneva in her father’s death. The CMU would have no choice but to investigate. And of course, they’d do everything in their power to keep the public unaware of their existence, which meant Geneva could kiss her freedom goodbye. And Rolf, too.
Now Cynthia could continue with the original plan. Sell the crystals to the buyers her father had made a deal with and live as a multi-millionaire. Except she wouldn’t sell all the crystals. No, she’d already planted a few synthetic crystals in Geneva’s apartment for the CMU to discover. Geneva would have a job on her guilty hands explaining those away.
Cynthia opened the pair of walnut doors leading into The Arcade and headed to the marble steps and toward the opposite side of the building. She stopped in front of a small window display in the far corner and studied the closed sign—Gem Alley, the store Daddy opened more than twenty years ago.
Once she sold the crystals, there would be no evidence to tarnish his sterling reputation. She had plenty of buyers in line for the crystals. All she had to do was coordinate their transfer and make damn sure Geneva paid for her crimes.
She used the keypad to unlock the door and went inside to pull the crystals from the hidden safe where her father kept them. Her heart lurched, as it always did when she opened the safe door and spied the two velvet bags—one green and one black. The black bag held the synthetic crystals, but the green bag was her father’s pride and joy. It held the only charged crystal remaining from the lot he’d stolen from Lucinda Ericksen years ago.
She pulled both bags from the safe, setting the black aside and opening the green to take a closer look. An icy pink crystal glittered against the plush velvet. The Scarlet Heart. Cynthia hardly dared breathe lest she activate the energy stored in its rosy depths. Her father always said his acquisition of the Scarlet Heart was his crowning achievement. Its pink prettiness drew the eye, but Cynthia knew the power it contained could stop a heart from beating. She would use the Scarlet Heart to kill Geneva Ericksen.
Then Cynthia would have her spa day somewhere far away from Cleveland and the long arm of the CMU.
45
Premonition
The rambling dirt lane leading to the white farmhouse was lined with evergreen trees. Driving through them always seemed a bit magical to Julia, like fairies and gnomes were hidden in their branches. Of course, her childhood home had always been a magical fortress. Nonna made it so.
A haziness hung in the air. Julia made her way across the wide front porch and raised a hand to knock on the solid wood door that opened before her fist made contact. Nonna stood there, looking healthy and vivacious, and not like a few weeks ago when she’d been in the hospital. A dream. It must be.
Nonna’s black hair was streaked with a smattering of white and pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. The smell of gingerbread wafted through the opening, and she carried a cup of tea in her hand. “Come in. Come in. How are you feeling? Heard you’ve been through a bit of a trauma. But you’ll be okay now, won’t you? Thanks to Rolf and your nice young man.”
“What young man, Nonna?”
“Oh, you know.” Nonna gave her a secretive smile and nudged her with an elbow.
“No, I don’t know.”
“The handsome one who comes to you in your dreams.”
Julia blushed. “How do you know about him?”
“Oh, I have my ways. I may be old, but I’m not senile yet. Now sit and tell me why you’ve come to visit.”
Nonna pulled out a wooden chair from the old oak table where Julia and Rolf had done their homework as children. Julia set her purse and car keys on the kitchen counter and sat. Nonna bustled around the kitchen, filling a cup with tea from the kettle and setting it and a couple of homemade gingerbread cookies in front of Julia. She pulled out the chair opposite. “What is it you want to know?”
Julia fiddled with her teacup. She and Rolf never talked about Nonna’s mysterious talent. They’d never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. “I’m concerned for Rolf. He’s in serious trouble. The CMU’s issued orders to bring him in dead or alive. Everyone believes he’s dangerous.”
“That poor boy.” Nonna shook her head. “He’s in for a rough time.”
“What do you mean, Nonna? What’s going to happen to Rolf?”
Nonna peered into her teacup. “It’s hard to say. His destiny is linked with Geneva’s. One cannot live without the other. He loves her. He always has. But he needs to prove it, or no one will ever believe him, even Geneva herself.”
“How can he prove it?”
Nonna no longer read the tea leaves. Instead, she gazed through Julia as if she saw the wall beyond and farther, much farther. She sighed—a big, hearty, drawn-out affair. “It looks like your brother is going to need my special gift.”
“No.” Julia shook her head, rising from her chair so abruptly it fell behind her with a bang. “No, Nonna, it can’t be so.”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is.” Nonna patted Julia’s arm. “There’s nothing we can do about it. Don’t be afraid. All is well, my dear. I may be old, but my talent hasn’t failed me yet. I’ll be there for Rolf when the time comes. See to it, okay?”
Julia sat up in bed, her heart beating double-time. Sweat covered her body, although the window was open and early morning light filtered in along with a cool breeze. A rooster crowed from the backyard where Nonna kept her girls, as she called them. Goose bumps covered Julia’s body.
She got out of bed and put on her jeans and T-shirt from the day before, shaking like she’d seen a ghost. Of course, with a dream like she’d had—a premonition of what was to come—it was like seeing a ghost. She didn’t want to believe the vision, but she’d be a fool to ignore its warning.
A shiver erupted at the top of her head and made its way to the base of her spine. Julia had spent the last few weeks at the family farm with Nonna and her dad, pretending everything was normal. But of course, she’d known all along their life was far from normal. How could she not be anxious knowing Rolf was hunted by the CMU and Geneva was in the hospital?
Now it appeared her worst fears were about to come true. Rolf would die. Unless she and Nonna could find Rolf and alter fate. And for that, they’d need Geneva.
Julia hurried to Nonna’s room, but Nonna wasn’t in her bed. She had her suitcase packed and sat in an armchair next to the bed.
“Nonna? How did you…”
“Pshaw.” Nonna cut her off with a wave of her hand. “You don’t think you’re the only one entitled to have strange dreams, do you?”
“You mean, you dreamt I’d come for you?”
Nonna pursed her lips. “Yes. Such a handsome gentleman I dreamed about. He claimed it’s my job to keep you and Rolf out of trouble. As if I ever could.”
Julia’s stomach sank like a rock to the bottom of the ocean. “You dreamt of a man? Did he tell you his name?”
“Sure he did. Said it was Caleb. Anyone you know?”
Julia’s legs wobbled until she collapsed on the side of the bed. “God, I—all these years—I never thought him real. Thought I’d made him up to make myself feel better. But there’s no way the same man could appear in both our dreams unless he exists. He’s a hacker of some sort. He, Caleb, comes to me in my dreams. He warns me of danger. What else did he tell you?”
Nonna grasped Julia’s cold hands in a warm clasp. Her one blue eye was clear as ever. The brown one wandered as it always did, searching out a truth of its own, Julia supposed.
“He said it wouldn’t be easy. If we want to save Rolf, we have to work together.” Nonna’s brown eye focused, and her hands tightened around Julia’s. “I figured that meant you and I were going on a scouting mission.”
“Yes, we will find Rolf. I’m sure he’s staying away to protect us. I think the best chance we have of finding him is Geneva.”
Julia’s cell phone buzzed, and she glanced at the incoming text message from Nate Ericksen. What she saw pummeled her heart until it pounded in her chest.
Geneva is in deep shit with the CMU. Cynthia Torra implicated my sister in her father’s murder.
“Sorry, Nonna. It’s Nate Ericksen. Geneva’s in trouble. Give me a minute to find out what’s going on.”
Nonna nodded. Julia texted back. Why would CMU believe Cynthia?
Found synthetic crystals in G’s apartment. Crystals analyzed in lab. Doesn’t look good. Ortiz ordered G locked up for life. Any word from Rolf?
No, nothing.
Julia didn’t figure a dream message counted. The Ericksen brothers had made it known they didn’t trust Rolf. They’d haul him away before they believed in his innocence. She continued typing. What do you plan to do? Take her to the Institution?
Hell no. If she goes there, the CMU will never let her return. Doing digging. Sorry, your brother’s dangerous. But Cynthia is not innocent. Word on the street is she’s got something a number of countries want. We need to find her and the crystals. Any dreams?
Yes
Spill
Geneva’s and Rolf’s destinies are linked. One cannot survive without other. To save Geneva, we must save Rolf.
???
Nonna and I headed to Cleveland Clinic. Talk there.
46
Search
Geneva awoke in her hospital bed to find a small crowd assembled around her: both brothers, looking stern; Julia, looking anxious; Julia’s father Ralph Jorgensen; Nonna; and Peter, looking afraid. If Peter was here it meant— Geneva shot up in bed, her heart pounding like a runaway freight train. “What’s happened? Where’s Rolf.”
Nate squeezed her hand. “Take it easy, Sis. Rolf’s okay. It’s you we’re worried about. Dad’s on his way.”
Geneva looked toward Danny. “Where is he? Rolf? Have you found him?”
“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry. I did some checking, though. There’s a rumor going around an American is looking for international buyers for a number of crystals.”
Geneva grimaced. “Cynthia, of course.”
“Maybe. We have no proof. Cynthia has disappeared. And no one can find Rolf or the crystals.”
Julia stepped forward, looking at Geneva. “You can, though. Can’t you?”
“I won’t find Rolf to have the CMU”—Geneva turned to Peter with a frown—“haul him in.”
“Not even if Rolf’s life is at stake?” Julia sat on the side of her bed.
Geneva stared as colors twisted and gyrated. With a snap and a sizzle, the lamp on the nightstand next to her bed went dark. “What do you mean?”
