The Forbidden Trilogy (7 page)

My client's voice came on the line. "This is Sam. I
have what you need to take down Beaumont." I told him what I'd overheard
in the man's mind.

I hated to hurt Tommy this way, but leaving him in the care
of that monster would have been worse.

Once I filled Dollinger in on the details, I expected him to
say that I had done my job and was free to go.

"That's not enough. We need hard proof. Keep
digging."

"What? You need to stop him before tomorrow night.
Before he...." I couldn't even bring myself to finish the sentence.

"This isn't about stopping him. It's about catching him
red-handed so he can't weasel out of this with his fancy lawyers and destroy
everything I've worked for."

I couldn't decide who was the bigger monster, but in that
moment I wanted them both to pay.

I handed the phone back to Gar, and forced myself to keep up
with Tommy the rest of the day.

After several rides and more junk food, I just couldn't
focus.

Tommy could tell that my mind was elsewhere. "Sam,
what's wrong? Are you still sick? Do you want a nap?"

"I'm okay, but it's probably time we find your dad and
head home. Your mom will want to hear about the exciting day you've had."

His blue, candy-covered lips frowned, but he didn't argue.

I pretended to look for Mr. Beaumont, even though I knew
exactly where he was.

We found him by the merry-go-round, which Tommy insisted on
riding.

Mr. Beaumont stood a little too close to me as we watched
his son balance on the horse. His dark blue three-piece suit, nice tan, and fit
physique hid the monster lurking beneath the pretty veneer. From his perfectly
highlighted caramel hair to his glow-in-the-dark teeth, he screamed
"fake." I imagined his skin peeling off to reveal a slimy troll, complete
with red beady eyes and swollen pink lips oozing something green.

What did the little girls see when he first walked in to
greet them? Did they see a respectable man in his early 40s, someone safe and
nice? Or could they sense the impending danger?

He smiled at me as if he knew what I was thinking.
"Sam, have you enjoyed the fair?"

"Yes, but I'm not feeling well. I think I ate something
that didn't agree with me."

He checked his phone. "We'll be leaving after this
ride. I have to get to work."

The whole ride home, I fought an internal war. Should I
listen to his thoughts or not? I couldn't stomach hearing more of his vile
intentions, but if Dollinger wasn't satisfied, more information would help.

I slipped back in, but he had put aside his perversions for
worry over work.

I would have to find another way to catch this bastard.

For a man who'd hardly been home the last two days, Mr.
Beaumont sure broke his pattern that afternoon. He locked himself in his home
office, the one place I needed to be to get Dollinger what he wanted.

Nothing revolted me more than spending time in his mind, but
I had to maintain mental contact to complete this mission.

After a long evening and a sleepless night tossing and
turning in the guest room, I finally got my chance to snoop the next morning
when my target left for work.

While Tommy spent some time with his mother, I snuck into
Mr. Beaumont's office and locked it behind me. Gar joined me, as I didn't want
him standing guard outside—might as well put up flashing neon lights announcing
my intentions, in that case.

Gar stood by the door and watched as I turned on Mr.
Beaumont's desktop computer. I'd seen him use his phone and iPad to check
appointments, and he probably had a backup calendar on his computer. I'd
already captured his password from my long—and torturous—evening of mental
spying.

Lucy could have just hacked into his system without the mind
probes, but I had to rely on old-fashioned methods.

A few clicks of the keys and up popped his calendar.

My heart raced as I scanned his daily appointments, looking
for anything that might incriminate him, while simultaneously scanning the
house mentally to make sure I wouldn't get caught.

Work. Work. Business appointment. Work.

Nothing jumped out at me. I looked for anything that
evening, as his thoughts had indicated some kind of rendezvous with a young
girl.

He'd listed a phone number next to 7 p.m. I jotted it down
in a notebook, then pulled open his browser history and looked through his
desktop files. I'd need more than a random number to get him.

My hands shook and my stomach heaved at the images I found.
The idiot had even photographed himself with young girls. I copied it all onto
my USB drive and shut down the computer as quickly as possible. I needed to get
out of this house and back to school.

My sweaty palm slipped on the doorknob just as my mind
latched onto Mr. Beaumont's. He was home and heading my way. Panic scissored
through me. I hid the USB and looked to Gar for guidance, but what could he do?
I'd gotten us into this and I'd have to get us out.

Mr. Beaumont would see me leaving his office, but I had to
risk it. With a fake smile so big it hurt my cheeks, I walked out and ran
straight into his chest. My skin crawled at the contact with this psycho.

"Sam, what are you doing in my office?"

"Looking for you, of course. But you weren't there. I
was wondering if you wanted to try another afternoon at the fair? I'm feeling
better and thought it might be fun."

Please say no. Please say no.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but I've got some work to do, and I'll
be gone this evening for meetings." He pulled out another $300 from his
wallet. "If you want to take Tommy, you two have fun. It's on me."

I pocketed the money and slunk away, fighting the vomit that
rose in my throat.

I walked into the family room and found Tommy, wearing
pressed jeans and a salmon-colored polo shirt, playing on the floor with his
yellow truck.

"Vroom, vroom. Watch this, Sam." He crashed the
truck into the leg of a handmade rosewood table. Probably not something Tommy
should bang against. The whole room could have been modeled after a magazine
spread. Not exactly kid friendly with the $3,000 knickknacks. Who spent that
much on a decorative egg?

The clicking of high heels—Manolo Blahnik, naturally,
because Prada was so last season—approached from behind. Mrs. Beaumont pranced
in, tall, blonde and elegant, with big brown eyes like Tommy, draped in a cream
cashmere dress that hugged her curves. My jeans and t-shirt just couldn't compete.

"Tommy dear, no slamming toys into the furniture. Why
don't you go in your room and play?"

"But Sam is here. I want to play with Sam."

"Actually," I said, "I'm looking for Mr.
Dollinger. Have either of you seen him?"

According to her husband's thoughts, she was a dead fish in
bed and therefore the cause of his perversions. Yeah, right.

She looked relieved that my presence would no longer be an
argument point for the boy. "Yes, he's on his cell phone by the pool. At
least he was a moment ago."

I thanked her, gave Tommy a quick hug, and excused myself to
the backyard. Gar trailed behind me.

***

This level of wealth didn't impress me the way it might
some. We lived well at Rent-A-Kid, with the best of everything—I'd endured so
many formal dinners, etiquette training, and socialization classes. At least we
enjoyed everything money could buy. After all, we had to impress and fit in
with some of the wealthiest people in the world.

Still, their custom pool looked more fitting for a resort
than a backyard, with slides in different sizes and shapes, and rock formations
and plant life strategically placed to give the whole space a tropical feel. A
few fruity drinks with umbrellas, and you'd never know you were in Utah.

Under a transplanted palm tree, my client engaged in an
urgent conversation with someone in hushed tones. His pressed pinstripe suit
hardly fit the pool setting.

Hmmm... wonder what has money bags so riled?

When he saw me, he ended the conversation and slipped his
iPhone into his pocket.

"What is it, Sam?"
'I really hope she's not
reading my mind right now... how can I get her to stop?... lalalala... I hope
this plan works and I get rid of this ass... does my wife know about Lisa?...
it only happened once... no need to tell her... am I getting fat?... maybe I
should hit the gym harder when this is all over... Sam is hot... I wonder...
such long silky brown hair... clear skin... bright blue eyes... no... she's
just a kid... shit... is she listening to me?'

"He has kiddie porn on his computer." I handed him
a slip of paper. "Here's a number for his mystery meeting tonight at 7
p.m. You should have everything you need to put him away for good and take over
his business."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His smiles never
did. "This is great news. Thanks, I'll call and let them know you did
well."

I turned to walk away.

His thoughts stopped me. '
How best to play this... what
should I do...? could use this information to my advantage.'

Did I really want to get involved? I'd completed my job.
Time to return to Rent-A-Kid. Just walk away. The aftereffects of my work were
irrelevant. Not my problem.

I couldn't move. My traitorous body refused to follow my
mental commands to keep walking. My heart beat so rapidly I thought it would
leap right out of my chest.

I turned to face him, questioning my own sanity even as I
did. "You are going to stop him from hurting that girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course, I'm as outraged as you. Honestly, I
had no idea he had this kind of secret. I assumed we'd catch him at something
more benign, like money laundering or tax evasion."
'Disgusting
bastard... no idea he was so foul... still... if I get video and pictures...
catch him red-handed... I can blackmail him forever... better than just getting
him arrested... right?... more money and control for me... could hire
someone....'

"No!" My outburst surprised even me. "You
can't let him hurt that girl and get away to do it again to someone else. You
have to stop him."

"Look, kid, you stay out of my head. I didn't pay you
to spy on my thoughts, you hear me?"

The threat of danger bit at me, warning me. Years of
unquestioning obedience transformed into a new, entirely unexpected rebellion.

I recalled Beaumont's thoughts. His plans. His past deeds.
"I really don't care about your money. I do care about that little girl
and all the other little girls he might hurt. So you are going to make sure he
is arrested and found guilty, or your wife will get a mysterious note exposing
your secret with Lisa."

I reflected on my perfect track record, my future at Sarah
Lawrence College, the art contest, the consequences to those who had broken the
rules. Would I be fined? Forced to clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush? I
weighed all this in my mind, knowing the answer instantly. I knew too much, had
seen and heard too much.

No matter. I no longer cared what happened to me.

His face turned bright red, hands balled into fists, jaw
grinding.

Might as well add some fuel to the growing fire. "And
you should definitely consider hitting the gym. You're getting love handles,
and your wife isn't finding them too sexy."

His hand flew at me, and the pain exploded in my cheek as I
crashed into the pool. Darkness drew me close, surrounding me in a watery
cocoon. Awareness flittered into oblivion. The pain receded into a dull
background noise easily tuned out. I barely felt the strong arms pull me out
and lay me unceremoniously on the warm tile.

Gar helped me to stand. Dizziness sent me into the arms of
my silent sentry.

He held onto me as I regained my balance, then turned to
Dollinger with a fierce expression on his face. "That was a mistake."
Gar lifted our client by the collar. "Apologize."

I tried to focus my sights on our client, but something
blocked my vision. I swiped at my face, and flinched. It felt like a giant golf
ball had taken up residence in my eye socket. "Gar, it's okay. Put him
down."

Gar paused for a moment, and just when I thought he would
beat the man bloody, he dropped him onto the cement.

I did my best to lock eyes with Dollinger. I'd never been
physically abused before, and my whole body shook from the pain, adrenaline,
and fear. "You will never touch me again. And you will make sure this
pervert is put away for good. If you don't, I'll make your life hell. I can
reach you anywhere, find out anything about you, and destroy you. Are we
clear?"

He glared at me, then at my muscleman, and nodded.

I walked back to the house with the help of my guard.

***

"Oh my dear, what happened? Are you okay?" Mrs.
Beaumont rushed to me, her concern masked by too many Botox injections.

"I'm fine, I think. I slipped and fell in the pool.
Must've hit my head on the side."

"Come on, dear, let's dry you off and get ice on that.
Perhaps we should take you to the doctor."

"No, no doctors. I just need to lie down."

After a warm shower and dry clothes, I rested on my guest
bed with ice packs that Tommy replaced each time they melted.

"You're a good nurse, kid."

His eyes glowed bright at the compliment as he eased a fresh
icepack onto my face. "You didn't fall, Sam," he whispered. "I
saw Uncle Henry hit you. Why would he hurt you like that? That's not
right."

I sat up to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see that,
buddy. You're right, he shouldn't have done that. But I need you to do me a
favor."

"What, Sam?"

"I need you to keep this just between us. No one else
can know, okay?"

My heart constricted at his confusion and sadness. How could
I do this to him? How could I ask him to lie, to cover up abuse, when I'd just
jeopardized my assignment to expose his father? But what choice did I have? I
couldn't risk any more problems. I shuddered at the thought of my potential
punishments for what I'd already done.