Mindsurge (Mindspeak Book 3) Read online

  “It was a shock, that’s all. It’s a lot of money.” I squeezed at the pressure point between my thumb and forefinger, a nervous habit I usually only did when I suffered a headache. “How about you give me a day to digest the information? Can we meet again in a day or two?”

  “I am at your disposal. I work for you now, Ms. Matthews, as long as you desire me to.”

  “In that case, I’d prefer that you call me Lexi.”

  I looked down at the documents in front of me. Ms. Long must have followed my line of vision because she said, “An office has been set up for you. It’s to the right of Dean Fisher’s office. A copy of every document Mr. Finland and I brought here today will be placed in a safe in that office.” She handed me a piece of paper. “Memorize this combination and then destroy it. I created the combination this morning and am the only other person who knows it.”

  “You’ve thought of everything.” An office seemed like overkill.

  “Your father paid us to.” She began to gather documents, straightening loose papers and closing folders.

  “Ms. Long, I have one last request.”

  “Anything.”

  “You said that you and I are the only two who know the value of my inheritance?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want it to stay that way. No one can know the details of what you just told me.”

  “Of course. That’s entirely up to you. Your father left you in charge starting the day you turned eighteen. Much of what he wanted you to know is in the journals he already gave you, and in this file.” She held up a brown expandable folder. “I’ll leave this in the safe for when you’re ready.”

  When I was ready.

  Would I ever be ready to know what Dad expected me to do with 3.2 billion dollars?

  ~~~~~

  “What did that woman say to you in there?” Jonas asked.

  I shook my head, refusing to look at him as I pocketed all my thoughts and hid them securely away. We wandered through the small cemetery adjacent to the chapel where we had started our day. Though neither my dad nor my best friend was buried there, I somehow felt closer to them. And right now I needed them.

  “Fine. You don’t have to tell me…” Jonas stuffed his hands in his pockets. “But Lexi, you scared me. You were so pale.” He kicked at a rock that bounced off a headstone.

  “You heard most of it. I now own Wellington Boarding School.” Whatever that meant. How does someone own a school? “And I inherited money from my dad.” Jonas didn’t need to know I was now worth the gross domestic product of a small country. No one needed to know that information. Not yet, anyway. People close to me had been killed for less.

  “That must have been some trust fund, to cause you to hyperventilate and practically pass out like that.”

  It was. But how had Dad accumulated that much money? And why? And what could I possibly need with it? And why would my father leave this school to me? The last time Dad and I spoke, I had been more than ready to graduate and move on with my life—go to medical school and become a caring and successful doctor.

  But now?

  My back to Jonas, I stared at a monument in the center of the cemetery: a life-sized sculpture of a girl with large angel wings. A book lay across her lap. Carved in stone below the sculpture were the words “In Memory of Father and Mother.” Love poured out of the simple inscription.

  Until recently, I had felt as if both my parents were dead, that all I was left with were distant memories of two parents who once loved me. But now that I knew the truth, I had to wonder: Had my mother ever loved me? Could a mother who loved her daughter leave her behind? And had I been given a chance to know that mother again?

  The wind picked up, bringing me out of my daydream. Goose bumps spread down my arms. Being in the cemetery reminded me that death was real—and final. I would never forget the image of the neurons in Dani’s brain turning dull like the brightest star fading from the sky. That image—of Sandra Whitmeyer killing my best friend—would be ingrained in my mind forever.

  And now, that very woman was working hard to make sure I knew that her partner, Dr. John DeWeese—Jack’s father—was the one responsible for the murder of my dad? I had yet to figure out why she would do that. What was her game?

  Whatever she was up to, I needed to figure it out soon. Sandra Whitmeyer and John DeWeese had already taken away two of the most important people in my life. And now Sandra was hinting that Jack could be next.

  Deep in thought, I didn’t hear Jonas step up behind me. His hands rested on my shoulders, massaging the tension that knotted up between my shoulder blades. My muscles stiffened, but I settled into his touch, closing my eyes.

  Yet behind the darkness of my eyelids, it was Jack I saw. He had shoved me from his life earlier that morning, at a time when I needed him. Of course, he’d had every reason to act the way he had, after last night.

  Like always, Jonas was inside my head, but I knew by his frustrated sigh that I was successfully shutting him out. He bent his head close and spoke softly. “What did Ms. Long tell you today that scared you so much?”

  “Does it matter?” I stepped away from his touch.

  “What kind of question is that? You asked me to be there for a reason.” He spun me around and stared into my eyes. “You were close to passing out when I got in there.”

  “Well, you heard the biggest part of it. I’m somehow the proud owner of a boarding school. I have no idea what that even means.”

  “You’re not telling me everything.”

  “No, I’m not. And I don’t have to.” I backed up, putting distance between us. We should never have been that close to begin with, but he was right. I was scared. I had needed his touch. No, I needed someone else’s touch: Jack’s. And I needed to feel something other than fear.

  The corners of Jonas’s lips tipped upward in a sly grin. “Okay. Have it your way.” He laughed in an aloof I-don’t-care sort of way.

  I crossed my arms. “Why are you smiling?” My voice escalated in volume. This was the Jonas that infuriated me—the same Jonas I had despised once upon a time.

  “Oh, don’t get that sexy black skirt in a bundle. I was just thinking that my initial instinct would be to force it out of you with my mind, just like you would force someone to tell you something.”

  “But we promised each other. No invading the other’s thoughts.”

  “That’s right. How could I forget? Is Jack exempt from that rule?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he’s not here. It’s no secret you two haven’t been speaking since just after the lab explosion, except to argue.”

  I frowned and looked away. Lingering autumn leaves fell from the trees. “Jack and I just need space.”

  “Is that why you’re afraid to tell Jack what was on Sandra’s video? Or about the note? You think he would let you push him away if he knew?”

  I pushed loose strands of hair from my face and tucked them behind my ear. “You know I can’t tell him. Sandra has followed through on every threat she’s made.” Turning, I walked along behind some gravestones, grazing shaking fingers along the cold, rough concrete as I passed.

  Jonas followed. “You forget. I don’t have to read your mind to read your mind. Your body language gives you away, and you’re hiding something. More than Sandra’s message. Answer me this… If Jack were here, would you tell him what Ms. Long revealed?”

  I whipped around. “Well, it doesn’t really matter, now does it? Look around, Jonas. Jack isn’t here, is he?”

  Jonas reached out and grabbed my hand, yanking me forward. He brushed his fingers along my hair and jawline. “No, he isn’t.” His calm tone deflated my anger a little.

  I breathed heavily. “This isn’t right, Jonas.” I heard the weakness in my voice, but did nothing to stop him. Was he inside my head, preventing me from turning him away?

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? Because of Jack?” His breath feathered
against my lips.

  “Yes. And because of Briana. Because of lots of things.” I tried pushing against him, to free myself from the straitjacket of his arms.

  “What things? What the attorneys said?” Jonas tilted his head and leaned closer. “Tell me what they said. Let me help you.”

  I couldn’t let this happen. Jonas’s lips were millimeters from mine. His pupils were dilated, leaving only a thin rim of amber. I pushed against him. “Jonas, let go of me. This isn’t you. What are you doing?”

  Suddenly, an avalanche of cool air washed over me. My eyes sprang open as Jonas was jerked from me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jack shoved Jonas, and Jonas nearly stumbled over a tombstone.

  “Jack,” I gasped.

  Jonas grinned. His eyes were glued to Jack. “Well, well, well. So nice of you to join us.”

  “You set me up?” Jack walked in a circle, stalking Jonas like prey. “You called me here just so that I could watch you kiss my girlfriend?”

  “What’s he talking about?” I asked Jonas. Why would you do this?

  “Girlfriend?” Jonas feigned a shocked hand over his mouth, ignoring me and belittling the girlfriend label. “I thought you two had broken up. ‘Needed space.’” He placed air quotes around the last two words. “That’s what you said this morning. Isn’t that why you deserted Lexi when she practically begged you to be there for her?”

  “Jonas, stop,” I said. “It’s okay.” It was actually for the best, because now, I didn’t have to feel guilty about all of the secrets I was keeping from Jack.

  Jonas stopped smiling. “It’s not okay. You needed him. We all need each other, and he left you alone.”

  “I told Jack I needed space. It’s not his fault.”

  “But you’re hiding things, and you just can’t,” Jonas said. “Sandra isn’t gone. She’ll be back. You think your twin clone showing up last night was a coincidence? It wasn’t. It’s a sign. This is not over.”

  “I know Sandra’s not gone. You of all people know that I’m well aware that Sandra will be back… is back.” I turned my back on both of them. I had to think, get my priorities straight. But first I wanted to know the truth. I faced Jonas. “What did Jack mean when he said you set him up?”

  Jonas wasn’t smiling. “I sent him a message with my mind. Told him he needed to come.”

  “To watch you try to kiss me,” I said—a statement, not a question.

  “No… well, yes, I did, but—”

  I held up my hand to silence him. “Don’t even bother.”

  “Lexi, you needed him here, and by staging that kiss and his reaction to it… I’ve proven that Jack still cares.”

  Jack’s mouth fell open as he looked at me. “Is that what you think? That I’ve somehow stopped caring about you?”

  “I didn’t say that.” I drilled two fingers into the center of my forehead. This was stupid. A laugh bubbled up through my throat and across my lips before I could stop it. “Are you hearing yourselves? We’ve resorted to staging kisses and arguing over who cares and who doesn’t. I’m so done with this.”

  “All I was trying to say was that you needed Jack. And he needed to be aware of that, and of what you’re going through. And now you’ve been left the responsibility of running Wellington, along with a group of crazy adults we don’t even know we can trust.”

  I looked from Jonas to Jack and back. “You’re right. I did need Jack. And you. That’s why I met with both of you this morning. You’re also right that I’m hiding things.” I looked at Jack. “And after your reaction to my need this morning…” I turned to Jonas. “And after your typical games here just now… I’m right back to where I was when I first learned of my father’s death. On my own.”

  “That’s not fair.” Jack’s arms hung limp at his sides in defeat.

  “Oh, yeah? Well, guess what? I don’t care if it’s fair. You both need to grow up. I’m being forced to, so why can’t you?” I shoved past them, assuming they would know better than to follow me.

  I had hoped to have them both with me this morning, learning with me more about this life we were being forced to lead—a life we would have to protect if we wanted to see our nineteenth birthdays. I had known that the meeting with the lawyers would be crazy hard. Asking Jack and Jonas to be there with me was my way of telling them that I believed we were a team—and at the same time, I had hoped it would keep them from invading my head uninvited.

  But now that they knew I was hiding things, Jonas would constantly be looking for a way in, and I would have to work extra hard to shut him out. I couldn’t have anyone knowing the amount of money my dad had left me. At least not until I knew why.

  I made it through the wrought-iron gate of the cemetery before Jonas mindspoke. I’m sorry.

  I threw my hand in the air, giving him a backward wave. Whatever.

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday morning, I jogged to Gram’s nursing home—a place I once upon a time used as an escape from boarding school life.

  Gram was sleeping when I entered her room. Her breakfast sat on a tray, untouched. I could see that she’d lost weight in the last month. Seth had told me that Gram’s body was suffering the effects of cancer, but that Gram had expressly requested—before the Alzheimer’s took over—that she not undergo invasive radiation or chemotherapy treatments, or major medical treatments of any kind. And Seth confirmed that surgery was not an option.

  In short, I was losing Gram, the only mother I’d ever known.

  I leaned over and gave my grandmother a soft kiss on the cheek. Her skin was silky smooth and smelled of moisturizer. After memorizing the peaceful look on her face, I turned and exited the room in search of the person that was supposed to meet me.

  The nursing home was already humming despite the early hour. At the entrance to the common area, a sign read: Church Service, 11:00 A.M. The area was mostly empty, but I suspected that, come eleven, the home would be abuzz.

  I continued further into the room. Around the corner, by a window overlooking the parking lot, was Seth Whitmeyer, sitting with one of the residents while she ate breakfast. I approached the table hesitantly, my running shoes squeaking on the tile floor. “Hello, Mrs. Whitmeyer.”

  Seth’s and Sandra’s mother paused mid-bite to look at me. Her cheeks lifted and her eyes brightened. “Sandra, dear.”

  “No, Mom.” Seth grabbed his mother’s hand. “This is Lexi. She looks a lot like our Sandra, but this is one of my students. The one I was telling you about.”

  Mrs. Whitmeyer’s eyebrows tilted inward. “Oh.” She stared at her warm cereal, and Seth gave her hand a squeeze and attempted to comfort her through the confusion.

  I pulled a chair back and took a seat facing Seth. “Thank you for meeting me away from school.”

  He shrugged. “After recent events, I’d say you’re finally starting to put a lot of pieces together.”

  My leg began its nervous bob. Seth had appeared in my life shortly after Jack, and had made no secret that we were not friends—not yet anyway. After first meeting him, I had even considered that perhaps he had murdered my father and was at Wellington to kill me. “Why did you come to Wellington?” I asked.

  “I came in search of Jack and you, and the others.”

  “When did you know about us?”

  “About ten years ago. Before Wellington even existed.”

  “Wellington is that new?” I didn’t know why, but I had always assumed that Wellington had been around for a while. I never thought to question that.

  “Wellington was opened for you. For all of you.”

  I thought of the list of clones Dad had been compiling. “Dad was searching for clones. He was searching for them even when I was only ten or eleven. Bringing them here.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you know how many clones are at Wellington?”

  He nodded. “Fifty-two. All younger than you and Jack and the rest of the original group.”

  “
What about outside Wellington?”

  “That’s a little trickier. No one seems to know how many embryos survived after the lab burned down eighteen years ago.” Seth glanced over at his mother, who seemed oblivious to our entire conversation. “Here’s the thing, Lexi. Sandra is creating more cloned humans every day. She’s been creating these clones since before the original lab burned. And she’s getting better at it.”

  “How is she doing this? Where is she doing this? How many surrogates could she possibly have that are agreeing to this?”

  “Those are huge questions. As far as the ‘where,’ I think a facility is already in place when she leaves one lab and goes to another. Hard to say the exact locations.”

  “You think she burned down that lab—the one where she, Dad, and Dr. DeWeese worked? The same way she destroyed the lab at the University of Kentucky?”

  An orderly rolled a large cart down the hallway behind me. I stood and paced a moment, processing this new information. If Sandra had been cloning humans all these years, where were they?

  I faced Seth. “So, did Dr. DeWeese know where Sandra was after the original lab fire?”

  “Not at first. No one knew where she was. But John and Sandra had been in love—”

  “Some form of it, anyway.” I laughed under my breath, although nothing about this was humorous.

  “I can’t disagree that their connection is strange. But after the fire, my sister disappeared. John, your dad, Cathy, Roger, and even your mother—they were left behind to pick up the pieces. Everyone else pretty much scattered.”

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose, attempting to ignore the comment about my mother. “Why did Dr. DeWeese marry Cathy? Did he think Sandra was dead?”

  Seth smiled. “Oldest trick in the book… so to speak. Cathy became pregnant with John’s clone.”

  “So… what? You’re saying John wanted Jack? And Cathy tricked him into marrying her?”

  “Control is everything. Controlling the cloned humans that survived. Controlling future research. Controlling who knows what and when—”

  “Controlling who gets to live or die.” I watched Mrs. Whitmeyer slowly lift a spoon to her mouth and take a bite of her oatmeal, and I was struck by her gentleness. Her daughter was nothing like her. How had Sandra become so evil?