American library books » Thriller » Brain Storm by Cat Gilbert (ebook reader computer .txt) 📕

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I couldn’t stand being in the house for another minute without him. Every room held a memory, every piece of furniture a story. I sold the house and everything in it. I would never forget him, but the sadness of the empty house tore at my heart every time I opened the door.

I had moved into the city, bought a brand new condo and new furniture, determined to make a new home with new memories. However, regardless of my intent, my new place had remained just that. A new place. Until now. This was the first time I had come through the door, relieved to be here. Maybe it was all the turmoil of the past week or the hospital stay, or maybe a new sense of awareness came along with the Telekinesis thing. Whatever the reason, I thought, as I took my cup of coffee and snuggled into my sofa, I was glad. I had finally come home.

* * *

THE RINGING OF the phone brought me up with a jolt. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa, and now, the blaring of the phone was having a definite impact on my ability to wake up enough to coordinate getting off the sofa and locate where I had laid the cordless phone.

“Yeah?” I mumbled when I finally found the phone, which was unaccountably sitting in its charging base where it should have been. Go figure.

“I’m coming over with dinner and a plan.” It was Trinity and from the sound of the background noise, she was in her car.

Glancing out the window, I saw the lengthened shadows and realized I must have been out for quite some time. As I watched, a patrol car slid slowly by and parked just up the street from the building. Hm. Interesting.

“Are you listening to me? Hello? Hello?”

“Yes, I’m listening.” I may not have been totally focused on the subject at hand, my mind still on the patrol car sitting outside, but I had the gist of it. “You’re coming over with dinner and a plan.”

“That’s right. I’ll be there in 10. You have stuff to drink?”

I abandoned my post at the window and wondered over to the refrigerator to peruse the contents. “I have Diet Coke, water, and week old tea.”

“Coke is good, I’m bringing pizza. See you in a few.”

Pizza again? That was a first. Not that I was complaining. She hung up, and I tossed the phone on the counter while I dumped the tea down the drain. Any good southerner knows, tea is best fresh. Nothing worse tasting than old iced tea, unless it’s tea from a metal dispenser. Yuck.

Another peek out the window let me know the patrol car was still there, and I decided to give Jonas a ring to check it out. Picking up my cell I discovered I had slept through a couple of calls and a voice mail. Second time that had happened. This falling asleep thing was getting to be a habit. I could excuse it this time because I had a concussion, after all, but still, I had never slept through calls before, and it bothered me that I had. Of course, a lot of things were bothering me lately. Not the least of which was this whole business with Marcus and the police now stationed outside.

I listened to a voice mail from Jonas proving my suspicions were right about the patrol car. That was his handiwork. I shook myself as a feeling of unease tensed the muscles in my back. Jonas was worried, and that worried me. The second caller had blocked his number and didn’t leave a message. It wasn’t all that unusual, probably a wrong number, but something to let Jonas know about, just in case. Looking around, I noticed the shadows deepening in the condo and flipping on a light, made my way around until I had checked all the windows and made sure they were locked up tight and the alarm was on. So much for feeling safe and secure.

By the time Trinity arrived with the pizza, I had managed to splash some water on my face and run a brush through my hair. I actually looked half way presentable or so I thought before I opened the door to Trinity.

“You look awful,” she informed me, balancing the pizza box and a large bag while kicking the door shut with her foot. “You should have stayed at Gram’s a few more days. I can’t believe you just up and left like that.”

“I didn’t just up and leave. I needed to get home and get some sense of normal back into my life. Besides, Mama D was spoiling me rotten.” I didn’t see the need to explain my rapid departure to Mama D, or Trinity either, for that matter. If there was indeed someone after me, my presence was the only real danger to either of them. Watching Trinity disappear around the corner, I reasoned that she was safe enough for the time being. It was still relatively early, the police were keeping an eye on the place, and I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to try anything when I wasn’t alone and an easy mark. Just to be on the safe side, though, I double-checked the lock on the door and reset the alarm before I followed her and the scent of pepperoni into the kitchen.

“What’s in the bag?” I asked while pulling the soda from the fridge and grabbing a couple of glasses. I hoped it wasn’t salad. I wasn’t in the mood for healthy.

“That’s the plan,” she answered cryptically. “I’ll explain after dinner.”

Oh boy. She was up to something. Maybe salad would have been the lesser evil. I had slept through lunch and by the time we had gotten plates and napkins on the table, I was ready to dig in. Trinity told me about her day and filled me in on the progress on our Atlanta felon, as we munched away.

I had barely finished my last piece when she swept away a clear spot and heaved her big bag up onto the table with a flourish and stupid grin on her face. I covered my eyes with one hand, half afraid to look at what she was up to.

“Aren’t you curious as to my plan?” she asked as she began digging around in the bag. I watched as she put a glass bowl, a roll of aluminum foil, a box of straws and other items out on the table and had to admit that I was, in fact, curious.

“Okay, we’re all set,” she declared as she threw the empty bag onto the floor and sat back down. “ I just have to make the wheel.”

This should be good, I thought, having no idea what she was going to use to make a wheel. The answer became apparent when she ripped off a piece of foil and started folding it into a square and triangles.

“Trinity, I hate to break it to you, but wheels are round.” I knew it would irritate her, but I just couldn’t help myself. She was so intent concentrating on that foil.

“Ha, ha, ha, Miss Know it all. This is a psi wheel, and it’s supposed to be this way.” She had finished with her folding and grabbed a can of play-doh that had been hidden behind a big bottle and some of the other items. Tearing a plug of doh out of the can, she slapped it on the table, and then stuck a straight pin in it, pointed straight up.

“You know that’s dangerous, right?” I said, amused. “Someone could lose an eye.”

“Someone better not,” she snapped back, obviously not as amused as I was. Before I knew it, she was unfolding the piece of foil that she’d just spent 5 minutes carefully folding up. Then she sat the foil on the straight pin, exactly in the middle, turned the glass bowl upside-down and plopped it down on the table, covering the foil completely.

Satisfied, she stood back, hands on her hips and looked at me.

“Okay, Yoda, do your thing. Make it spin,” she ordered, circling her finger in the air for effect.

Yoda? I looked at the bowl, and the foil suspended on the pin inside and realized what she was doing. Trinity wanted me to make it spin around. With my mind. She had indeed made a psi wheel, and making it spin was one of the tests for confirming Telekinesis. Trinity had obviously been doing some homework on the websites I had given her. After my torture with the spoons, I hadn’t even thought about doing any of the so-called tests that were listed, but apparently Trinity had other ideas.

“Come on, Taylor. Concentrate! You’re not even trying.” She shuffled around behind me and leaned down. “Use the force,” she whispered in her best Obi Won imitation. I probably could have held it together, but when she started in with the heavy breathing, I lost it. Before I knew it, we were both convulsed with laughter and struggling to catch some air.

“This was your plan, Trinity?” I asked, wiping tears from my face. “Testing my so called abilities?”

“No.” She was sprawled in her chair with her arms holding her stomach. “My plan was to see you laugh. Things have gotten pretty intense lately.”

I nodded agreement while feeling my cheekbones, which were sore and taking another swipe at my own eyes, flopped back in my own chair exhausted.

“Well, your plan worked, and I feel much better now. My face hurts, but I feel better.”

“Good.” Trinity started picking up the testing materials and stuffing them back in the bag. “Now, maybe you can explain the police surveillance outside then?”

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