Page 32 of Lion's Share
When he spoke, his tone was very gentle. “Has anything like this happened to you before?”
“Of course not!” I burst out. Then I realized if I didn’t want to sound like a crazy person, I probably shouldn’t have responded so wildly. I tried to moderate my tone as I went on, “I’m not psychic. I never played with Tarot cards or Ouija boards or anything like that. I never had any interest in that sort of stuff.”
“No, you seem like a very down-to-earth person.”
I couldn’t help shooting Ben a suspicious glance at that comment. “Is that a compliment?”
“Yes,” he said. Smiling, he added, “I like that you’ve managed to stay grounded despite all the weird elements in your life. That’s a hard balancing act to pull off.”
“Except now I’m hearing voices in my head.”
His expression immediately grew sober. “No,” he replied, “you heard one person. Agent Morse. That’s very different.”
“It still feels like I’m going crazy.”
“You’re not going crazy,” he said. Before I could begin to reply, he continued, “But the world around you is kind of going crazy. Do you think the instability of the portal may be having some sort of effect on you? After all, the women in your family have been interacting with these creatures and wandering the woods for generations. I don’t think it’s too big a leap to postulate that maybe the current instabilities are bringing out latent abilities that all human beings have.”
He’d probably meant those words to be reassuring. However, I wasn’t sure I believed any of that.
“Says the guy who hunts chupacabras.”
Rather than take offense, he only chuckled. “I don’t hunt them,” he said. “I just research them. But sure, I’ll admit that being involved in cryptozoology has brought me in touch with studies that some people would think are pretty fringe. Among them is the belief that all human beings have the ability to be telepathic but choose not to be, for whatever reason. And it’s been fairly well-documented that the indigenous people of Australia have ways of communicating with one another that modern science hasn’t been able to accurately explain. So this isn’t as crazy as you might want to believe.”
I sat there, my hand in his, and tried to tell myself it was fine, that maybe being able to see into the mind of an enemy could only help us. Not that I knew for sure Rebecca Morse was an enemy, but anyone who came to Silver Hollow to try to unearth its secrets by their very definition was a person I couldn’t trust.
“Well, it feels crazy to me,” I said, “but then, so do a lot of other things. I’ll just have to roll with it, I suppose.”
“You’ll do fine,” he replied. Then he hesitated for a second or two, as if wondering whether he should say anything else. He must have decided not to hold back, because he asked next, “Have you been able to see into anyone else’s mind?”
“Like yours?” I returned, and even managed to smile.
He remained serious, though, and nodded. “Yes, like mine.”
At least I could answer that question easily enough. “No, it was only Agent Morse. Then again, it’s not as if I tried to peek into anyone else’s brain today, either.”
“But you had customers come in.”
“A few,” I said. “Eliza Cartwright stopped by. She was kind of annoyed because it looks like Linda Fields is going to throw her hat into the ring for the mayor job.”
This piece of information seemed to genuinely startle Ben. Eyes widening a little, he asked, “The realtor? But I thought she hadn’t been living here for very long.”
I just had to laugh. “By Silver Hollow standards, she hasn’t. She’s been here a lot longer than you, though.”
“I’m not running for mayor.”
Thank God. “No,” I said lightly. “I think you’ve got enough on your plate. Although I might have added to that by offering your design services to Eliza. She didn’t think she was going to need much in the way of campaign materials, but now that Linda’s running….”
“It’s no problem,” Ben said at once. “I have the time. Or at least, I will once I know Marjorie Tran is safely back in Davis.”
“Well, less than a day to go on that bit of babysitting,” I responded. “I know what she’s doing is valuable, but I keep freaking out over what might happen if she bumps into Agent Morse or her partner.”
“You and me both,” Ben agreed. “Luckily, she went into the forest today to take more readings. Not by the portal glen,” he added quickly, “and she said she was going to stick to the paths. Still, it doesn’t sound as if there’s too much chance of them running into each other.”
As long as the “Rosenthal” person referred to in Rebecca Morse’s thoughts didn’t get their way and send the agents into the forest to search for the source of the anomalies.
“Maybe you should try to see if you can read my mind,” Ben suggested next, and all I could do was stare at him.
Had he gone crazy, too?
