"Drake, you'll be okay. Come on, boy." Another voice he didn't recognize.
He reached out with his mind to stop whoever was touching him, but nothing happened. His power didn't work. Then he felt it, the compulsion to obey, directed at him as someone siphoned his powers from him.
When hands pulled him away from the familiar noises, he tried to fight with his muscle.
"Damn it, he's still too strong. Get him to the van, quick."
"Don't worry," one voice said to the other. "Drake, you will relax and walk quietly to the van with us. You will not put up a fight or make any noise."
Drake nodded, stood and walked forward.
Before he could process anything more, a painful whack to his head sent him tumbling toward darkness.
The leader yelled at whoever had hit him, and then Drake found that darkness.
Chapter 6 – Sam
The next morning, I still had nothing on Beaumont, but my bond with Tommy had deepened, not in small part to the twenty new drawings I'd given him of the most fantastical creatures he could think of.
The kid had quite an imagination.
He followed me everywhere, and I didn't mind. Between him and my Gar shadow, I had a freaking entourage. A longing for a real family with a little brother just like Tommy threatened to undo me, but I smacked it down and stayed focused on my work. Mostly.
It would have helped if Mr. Beaumont had actually been home more. My mind reading skills weren't all-powerful. I required some proximity to my target if I wanted to connect with him, especially someone with an unfamiliar mental signature. It was like a voice in the crowd—the more familiar the voice, the easier it was to pinpoint and lock onto it.
That morning I finally had my chance to corner Dollinger without Tommy tagging along. The pressure to finish up this assignment so I could leave the next day weighed heavy in my mind, and pushed me into confrontations I would normally have avoided.
I found my client pouring himself a stiff drink in the study, and got straight to the point. "I can't do what you hired me for without access to the target. When will Mr. Beaumont be home?"
His eyes hardened into black coal, but he kept his tone civil. "He's going to surprise everyone with a trip to the fair today. You'll have an all-day pass to his mind. Use it well."
'For what I'm paying her, she'd better find the mother lode of dirt on this bastard.... I'm sick of being his lackey.'
I shook his thoughts out of my head and left the room.
Tommy squealed and threw himself into my arms. "Sam, Daddy's home. And guess what? He's taking us all to the fair! Isn't that great?"
'This is going to be the best day ever.... Maybe Sam can live with us forever and be my big sister.... I can't wait to eat cotton candy.... Daddy's the best.'
My heart cracked. I gave serious thought to dropping this whole thing and telling Higgins I couldn't get anything from the target. Then, I wouldn't have to destroy Tommy's life, and the guilt that ate me alive would go away.
But I would have to stay at least two weeks before pulling an assignment. Rules. If I did that, I'd miss my interview and my contest, and when they released me from Rent-A-Kid in three months I'd have nothing.
How could I seriously consider destroying Tommy's life so I could get into a decent college? His brown eyes and innocent thoughts crashed into me. With a sinking in my gut, I knew what I had to do—blow the assignment, regardless of the cost to me.
I mentally waved farewell to all of my dreams as I took Tommy's hand and helped him get ready for the fair.
***
Utah millionaires weren't uncommon, it appeared, but it didn't change the charm of small town fairs. In a large field, a spectacle of lights and sounds had been erected to entertain the populace. Colorful booths attracted kids of all ages to win cheap toys and stuffed animals by throwing balls in cups or shooting down fake bunny targets. A large carrousel stood in the center of the fair, an iconic symbol of the American heartland.
Tommy only cared about one thing: cotton candy. He darted through throngs of people to snag his place in a long line of sugar-craving children.
Mrs. Beaumont hadn't joined us, as she was attending some event or another for her social club. Mr. Dollinger had begged out by claiming work duties, then eyed me with a look that meant I'd better come home with something good to tell him.