Brain Storm by Cat Gilbert (ebook reader computer .txt) 📕

TRINITY SOON LEFT for court, promising to return later in the day. I was left to try to fit the rest of the puzzle together. Thinking back, I remembered Denzel’s anger at the coffee shop and his accusation that he and I both “knew” he didn’t throw the coffee at me. At the time, I thought it was just something he said to convince me he didn’t throw it on purpose, but looking back now, his statement made more sense if he already knew about the telekinesis. How could that be? How could he have known before I did?

By lunch time, my head was spinning with questions. I was relieved and actually somewhat hungry when the lunch tray finally arrived. The food smelled good, but my stomach rebelled once it was staring up at me, so I ended up shoving the tray away and being tormented by the smell until they came and took it away. At one o’clock the doctor came in, and I got the all clear to take some slow walks down the hall once the nurse got me unhooked from all the machines.

I had hoped walking would help clear my head, but I was weaker than I expected and between trying to keep my gown closed and the guard following me at a snail’s pace down the hall, I quickly decided I would restrict my walking to the room. Exhausted, I climbed back into bed, delighted to find the nurses had taken advantage of my absence to freshen the room and change the sheets. Getting some rest, would have been a good idea, but I was having trouble turning off my brain.

If I was right, Denzel somehow already knew about me having TK, as they call it. He knew, and he’d been following me. It might not have been a coincidence that he was at my particular coffee haunt, but I thought it pretty safe to assume that the altercation with the coffee hadn’t been in his plans. I wracked my brain trying to remember if I had seen him there before, but it was all a muddle, either from the blows I had taken or I just simply didn’t remember. If he was watching me back then, it stood to reason that it was probably him tailing me in the BMW too. If Jonas was right and Denzel was after me, then why just watch me? And why shoot at Jonas?

As if my mind had conjured him, Jonas came sailing through the door.

“You’re looking better,” he stated after a quick glance. Magically a cup of coffee appeared in his hand. “A peace offering for this morning. I should have brought you one then. I just didn’t realize what an addict you are.”

“All is forgiven,” I assured him, grabbing the cup from his hand before anything weird could happen. “The important thing is you brought one now. Any news on the prints or DNA?”

I may not have figured much out, but I had come to the conclusion that I needed to tell Jonas the whole truth, as it seemed relevant to the case and was prepared to launch into a full confession, but his reply stopped me in my tracks.

“No. Nothing on either, but we do have some new evidence.” He settled into the chair next to the hospital bed and leaned over close. “We had a report of a body in the river under the I-40 bridge this morning.” He stopped abruptly as I tensed up, belatedly realizing what he’d said. “No. No, it’s not about Keith. I’m sorry.”

Even after all this time, every time they found a body, I went back to the night of the accident. The endless hours as they searched for him. The pain when they gave up hope of finding him. I don’t know what difference finding his body would make to me now. I knew he was gone, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Every time they found someone in the water, I found myself at the morgue, waiting for an identification. Maybe I needed a body to put it behind me. I don’t know, but it certainly wasn’t Jonas’ fault. I should have been able to handle it by now. I waved off his apology and waited for him to go on.

“Okay, well, anyway, we located the body. Fortunately, it hadn’t been in the water long and based on your description and the video footage we caught of him, I’d say your boy, Denzel, met with a rather painful end sometime early this morning.”

What? Denzel was dead? Jonas’ words were cutting through the fog that wrapped around me when he mentioned the body. I looked up confused, to see Jonas watching me closely. “In case, you’re wondering, it looks like foul play, and he’s connected to you. I’d say you’re pretty fortunate that the guard can verify your whereabouts for the past 24 hours, or we’d be having this discussion at the station.”

“Are you kidding me?” I was horrified that he would even think such a thing. “What possible motive would I have for killing Denzel? I don’t even know him.”

“We just have your word for that. We know you’ve been involved in at least three altercations with him. Possibly more, if we can put him in a black BMW. You hunt him down in the hospital, he spots you and takes off and now he’s dead. Add that to the fact that you’re keeping secrets, and that would put you right at the top of the suspect list.” Anger rolled off him in waves, and I could feel my own anger rise in response.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. First of all, he threw the coffee at me. I didn’t attack him. Second, he shot at you, and I saved you, and finally, I didn’t hunt him down. I thought there was a highly unlikely possibility that the man who had just tried to kill you was in the hospital after the nurse told me about the guy with a busted hand and I decided to check it out. I didn’t open the door. I didn’t threaten him. I didn’t do anything! He ran because he knew I would report him.”

Our raised voices had alarmed the floor nurse who was hurrying into the room. Not caring about having an audience, Jonas stood and braced himself on the bed, leaning over me.

“And just how did you save my life?” he whispered. “Did you slam the door on his hand?”

I gasped, my eyes wide with shock. I had meant that I had warned him, distracted Denzel at the pivotal moment. The thought that I had somehow managed to slam the car door had never entered my mind. It had, however, popped into his. Was Jonas right? Did I slam the door? The realization that it might be possible sent shock waves coursing through me. Oh dear Lord, what is going on? If I had slammed the door without realizing it, what else had I done that I didn’t know about?

My questions hung in the air, unasked and unanswered, as the nurse escorted Jonas from the room.