Chapter 17: Get Over It

Jimmy

The next time one of these girls tells me someone is 'special', I'm leaving town.

Don't get me wrong, I like Christine; I think she's wonderful. She's fun, smart, self-assured, easy to talk to, and she's certainly a lot of fun to roll around naked with. Heck, she doesn't even hog the covers, but this...

How do I keep getting mixed up with stuff like this? It seemed like every woman I meet has some kind of crisis. They're either in trouble and need my help, like Samantha and ... Well, actually, I'd never actually met her, or her sister. I'd started out with helping Amy keep her sister — Rebecca — safe from a mysterious killer; that led me to Diane McKenzie, and pursuing her killer led me to Amanda Watkins which gave me Samantha and the whole mess in Las Vegas, which is why I ended up on a plane with Christine in the first place. Actually, it was one of the reasons I was on a plane with Christine. Along the way, while trying to head off the killer before he struck again, I met Lizzy; not really met, that came later, and I guess she didn't need my help as much as I needed hers. Which brings me to the other category I was looking at: either they needed my help, or I needed theirs.

Well, no, that's not really true either. Look at Britney; she didn't need help until I put her in harm's way. Dating me had basically ruined her life, her whole family's life...

"Are you through yet?" Jamie asked.

"What?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Your little pity party," she said. "This whole 'woe-is-me, why does this always happen to me, why does everything I touch go wrong... ?' You know; the same bullshit you put yourself through every time something new pops up. Usually Allison is here to talk you through it, but she's off helping Christine deal with this because — unlike you — it's all new to her, and she's a leeetle tiny bit freaked out. So Allison isn't here to listen to you moan about the unfairness of it all, and I just don't have the patience; so call me when you finish, and we can get on with our so-called life, and don't even try to tell me that's not what you're doing; I recognize the static pattern in your half of our brain running in a tight spiral headed right for the drain."

You can imagine how I felt through that whole tirade. The problem was — she was right.

"Don't feel like you need to hold back or anything Jamie; go ahead and tell me what you really think."

"Holy shit! You mean it worked?"

"You mean it worked?" I repeated back to her in a mocking tone. "No, it didn't work! When Allison helps me through this stuff I feel like I know what's going on or what I should do. I don't have the slightest idea how to fix this. In case it slipped your attention, we now have a cat that can walk into dreams."

"No, we have a cat that followed her owner into a dream. Excuse me for pointing it out, but that's not the same thing. Nothing Allison said suggested that Widget could go on her own, or go anywhere else on her own. She followed Christine when you brought her here. If I heard correctly, Allison was suggesting that there is a link between them based on Christine's energy, and — because your energy was involved — you may or may not have a similar link."

"Right," I said, "because it was my energy that triggered it!"

"So ... Fucking ... What?" She demanded. "Jimmy, like it or not, there is something special about you. If life is a card game, then you're the joker in the deck — or at least one of them. Why are you so surprised that other special people seem to be drawn to you? Or are you just mad because you're not the only special person on the planet? You know, you claim to believe in God — and no I'm not going Phoebe on you — but if you believe, then you have to at least admit the possibility that Lizzy's right and that is a reason you have this gift. Have you thought about how many other people Lizzy and Christine have run into in their lives? You're just the only one, so far anyway, that it has really mattered to. Not so much for Lizzy, because she's made a difference to a lot of people, but if you asked her, she would tell you that you are the most important thing in her life, ever. She would tell you that everything else in her life happened to prepare her for you. Why?"

"Well of course she'd say that, she loves me."

"Jimmy! You cannot be this dense! She does not think this way because she loves you; she loves you because of all this — or at least partly because of it. Look at the numbers: you in LA, Lizzy a few hundred miles away, Christine in Atlanta; now I know that's a small sample, but doesn't it suggest a pattern to you? Lizzy knew there was something different about Christine from first glance — just like she did with you — and I'm willing to bet that if she did a little traveling, she'd start seeing more special people here and there, scattered all over the place. That flower analogy of Allison's works really well for this; Christine was a seed, dormant in the soil, then you came along, and nothing happened! Until she met Lizzy. So let's change the analogy a little. Instead of a seed, let's make Christine a bulb, locked in a cold storage box waiting for spring, and Lizzy is the key to the box; now Christine's out in this flower bed we call life, drowning in fertilizer like the rest of us, and just waiting for the perfect moment, and this time when the sun — that's you — comes by, she's ready and she blossoms."

Okay, the fertilizer thing was funny. "What's your point?"

"Ugh! I give up! I don't know how she does it; I don't. Talk to Allison, talk to Lizzy — hell, talk to Christine. There you go! Instead of being all freaked out about how this is all your fault and you've done something horrible to her, talk to her; maybe she doesn't mind. So far she seems to like all the things you've done to her. Some of them she liked a lot. Jimmy, this is how life is; I've only been around a couple months, and even I know that."

She paused as if taking a breath, and her voice softened, "Jimmy, things happen. Sometimes you can help, sometimes you can't. Sometimes what you do makes a difference, like with Roxy. All you did was try to be nice to her when no one else would, and you saved her life. And let's not forget about the rest of the people in that church. You made a difference, but it's not always going to work out that way. You went on a date with Britney: bad timing. You did what you could to fix it. You'll do more if it's necessary; you know you will. This is your life, our life, and it's not going to change. All we can do is try to make the best of it. I know sometimes the weight of responsibility seems like it's more than you can bear, but if you look back, you'll see that every time the load has gotten heavier, we've gotten help. New people have come in; our own abilities have changed, grown. Grown to a level that's almost scary, and that's a different load altogether, but that part you've always had help with. Your parents, and the way they raised you; Allison and Shannon, who loved you and exposed themselves voluntarily to the hell you were having to deal with, just so you wouldn't have to face it alone. Me — because keeping me in line, being an example to me, helps you cope and keeps you making the right decisions, and Lizzy, because you can't hide from her.

"So now Christine's come into the picture, and she's brought a whole new level of weirdness with her. Fortunately, our sister has decided that even though she's no longer involved on a day-to-day basis, she still wants to help. We always knew she was smart, but I don't think we realized just how brilliant she really is. I'm beginning to wonder if she hasn't been holding back, and now that she doesn't have to worry about attracting attention to you, she's really getting serious about this shit. She sure pegged Christine in short order."

"I think she had help," I said.

"Oh, you think?" she asked sarcastically. "I don't know about you, but right about now I'll take all the help we can get thank you very much. Now let's back up for a second; you said you were worried about how to fix this. According to Allison, it can't be fixed — not without killing the messenger, and I kind of like the little fur ball, so let's try to avoid that and do something constructive — a little empirical research maybe. Allison seems to be on to something, so let's see if maybe we can give her a little feedback and see what she can do with it. Maybe this is something we can use."

Well, at least they're only right one at a time. Maybe the reason there are so many of them is so one is always around to slap some sense into me when I start to lose it.

"Thanks, sis."

"You're welcome," she said, and I thought I felt a ghost of a kiss on my cheek. "Now let's talk about how we're going to get all these people through the legal system without attracting attention."

The only other person I wanted involved in this part of the plan was Allison — and she was busy — so Jamie and I spent the rest of the night arguing and working out the basic game plan. Whichever one of us had the opportunity first would present it to Allison, so she could poke holes in it; then we'd make the necessary adjustments and move forward. We both would have preferred to get started right away securing Samantha and Rachel's futures with Doctor Hendricks, but neither of us considered it worth the risk to move forward until Allison had a chance to look at the plan and spot any mistakes we might be making. I would have liked to have Tony look at it as well — from a legal standpoint — but in my mind I couldn't even justify that level of local exposure. If someone got wind of what we were doing and started poking around — especially if Hightower got involved personally — it could get ugly for everyone involved.

When we had finally beaten it as close to death as we could, I sent Jamie off to spend some time with Amber — whom she had been missing — and I went to see Allison, whom I missed even more. She assured me she was securely locked into the bedroom of a hotel suite with no cameras or listening devices — in the bedroom that is, there was a Camera over the main door — and if she left the room without an escort, the building had better be on fire. The good news was that Mom and Dad weren't due to arrive until the next day.

"I'm testing for high school as soon as we figure out where we're living," Allison said as we lay together in the darkness. "I think you should consider going back to school as well."

"I've actually considered it," I said. "So far there just hasn't been time. Is there something in particular you want me to study?"

"Several things," she answered. "More psychology, of course, the more you know about human behavior, the more effective I think you'll be. Other than that I'm not really sure; Law and Criminal Justice both come to mind. I thought about business administration or accounting, but it's not like anyone is going to be able to cheat you. Between you and Lizzy, there is not much chance of anyone with a criminal bent slipping through the cracks — not if you pay attention and are thorough with your screening process. Electronics, but you'd do better going to a technical school for that, and the same for computers. In fact, now that I think of it, most of what you need you'd get faster just taking crash courses from tech schools — except for the psychology and stuff. A management course would be a good idea, but you're so good with personalities already, it may be a waste of time. Besides, I don't want you caught up in the day to day operations so much as just being the figurehead and working behind the scenes."

"I'm sure this would all make total sense if I had the slightest idea what you're talking about. The day to day operations of what?"

"Your company, it's going to be growing fast and branching into all kinds of different areas."

"Doing what?"

"I'm not sure yet. It depends on what we come up with using all that money you're going to dump into your R&D department."

"Ah yes," I said, nodding sagely. "My R&D department ... Let me guess, headed by this brilliant young woman who's about to come out of nowhere and take the scientific community by storm?"

"Yep, that's the one. Well, sort of. Most of what she's doing no one's going to know about. I'm hoping that along the way she'll manage to come up with a couple of ideas that can be safely marketed to justify your investment. You're also going to spend a lot of money on scholarship programs — mostly promoting young women in a variety of fields; Law and Criminal Justice being two of them, as well as public relations, international diplomacy, that kind of thing. And you better move your ass because some of your first students are going to be ready soon."

"They are?"

"Absolutely," she said. "Jimmy, once you figure out how to deal with Vegas, there are going to be a lot of young girls from recently broken homes in serious need of futures, and you're going to make sure they have a chance at one."

"I never realized what a philanthropist I was going to grow up to be. Mom will be so proud. Speaking of Vegas..." She stopped me.

"No," she said. "No details, not here. We'll talk about that on the other side. Tomorrow maybe, it's getting late, or early — and while you may be able to go without sleep — I still tend to get a little bitchy, and I don't want to get into it with mom on our first day. It's going to be a tough week as it is."

"Why do you say that?"

"Think full moons and lunar cycles," she said.

"Oh goody, cramps, I can hardly wait." One of the more hysterical aspects of having Jamie living inside me was that I got to experience the secondary menstrual symptoms every month.

"Suck it up," she giggled. She waited for a second and then said, "What, no comment from Jamie?"

"She's with Amber. I guess she's getting better about staying out."

"I think that has a lot to do with it being Amber."

"What makes you say that?"

"Part of my whole energy theory. I'll tell you about it one of these days."

She stretched and yawned. "You should go before I change my mind and start over again."

"Okay," I said, kissing her hair and sliding toward the edge of the bed. I dressed while I was in the bathroom and came back for a real goodbye kiss before crossing back over to Vegas. Jamie got there right after I did.

"Nice timing."

"I've been waiting for you to come back. My energy was good, and I didn't want to interfere with you and Allison, so I hung out with the girls while they got ready. They're a lot of fun in the shower. They'd be even more fun if it was a little bigger, but ... I got to give Lizzy a kiss and send her off to class. Don't worry, it was just a quick peck; I didn't want to take any chances. It was really sweet, though, and then Amber and I went to open the bookstore, and..."

"Well, aren't you the little mommy today? Feeling a little more maternal? Because I think I know why."

"Oh no!" she moaned. "Already? God, I'm sorry, Jimmy..."

"No need to apologize," I assured her. "Like you said earlier, it's just one of those parts of life that you can't control. I'll survive. Although I'll be taking it a little easier running for the next couple days, maybe spend a little more time in the pool and a lot of extra stretching."

We'd kept Christine asleep while we were gone. I let her wake up just as I started sliding out of bed. She noticed the motion and touched my arm. "Where you going?"

I gave her quick peck and said, "Off for, as Allison likes to call it, 'my morning ritual masochism'."

"That's funny," she said, and then she stretched and asked, "Mmmm. What time is it?"

"A couple of minutes after five."

"Then I'd better get up too," she said.

"Why?"

"School starts at eight, and they expect me dressed and ready to go. That means uniform ironed, hair, makeup, the works. I hate rushing, so I want to get in the habit now. Be prepared, because it's an airline training program, I can guarantee that one of these days they're going to call at an odd hour and expect me to rush in to cover for someone who 'couldn't fly' at the last minute. Not to mention that I'm a morning person and I plan to make you change your exercise routine a few mornings a week. Hope you don't mind?"

"Oh, gee, let me think ... Did you want to start today?"

"After last night," she said, "uh ... no. I'm not sure I could take it, maybe tomorrow. Who's Allison?"

"My little sister. I'll start coffee before I leave."

"You know, I could get used to this kind of pampering. You don't even drink coffee."

"No big deal. I used to do it for my parents every morning growing up. It did wonders for keeping me on my mom's good side."

"I'll bet." She gave a yawn and was right in the middle of another stretch when Widget walked up her stomach, stretched out on her chest, and began licking her nose. She gets gushy over the cat, so I headed for the bathroom. She was still scratching her head when I came out.

"She seems awfully affectionate today," I pointed out.

"Yeah, she gets that way sometimes — usually when her dish is a little low. Do I get a kiss before you go?"

"Of course, don't be silly," I said. I crawled across the bed and kissed her, then scratched Widget's head before heading off. She reached with both paws and grabbed my hand as I started to pull away, drawing it back down and giving it a couple licks before releasing me.

"Wow," Christine said. "She's never done that before. She must really like you."

I had my own ideas about that.

It's amazing how brisk it is in the desert first thing in the morning, even when the temperatures are consistently hitting the low one-teens during the day. It was actually kind of nice. Growing up in Southern California, it rarely got below seventy during the summer and frequently, during the hotter months — August and September — not below eighty or eighty-five, and the humidity made it even worse.

Christine was out on the patio in her robe, nursing her second cup of coffee when I got back.

"Hot and sweaty," she teased, "just the way I like my men. Why don't you take that shirt off, so I can watch your muscles while you stretch?"

"Because then you'll be late for school," I said. "Besides, I'm a bit of runt; there's really not that much to see."

"Don't sell yourself short. You're just fine in all the areas that count, but you're right about me being late for school. I better hit the shower; I'll try and save you some hot water."

"Thanks," I said. "Do me a favor and toss an extra towel over by the front door; I don't want to drip all over the floor on the way in."

"You got it, stud-muffin. Thanks for the coffee. Don't buy any more of this stuff, okay? I'm going to pick up some fresh beans and a grinder while I'm out today. We'll save this for when we have company we don't like."

"That bad?" I asked with a laugh.

"No, not really. I'm just picky. Coffee is the one area I always spoiled myself and splurged on. See you in a little bit."

I stripped to my shorts and hit the pool for morning laps. Christine left two towels by the door; one already spread out on the floor. I got the message, stripped and dried at the door, then wrapped my wet clothes in the towel and carried everything back to the bathroom. She was already out, a towel wrapped around her as she brushed her teeth. I hung my wet swimsuit over the side of the shower and gave her a quick pat before stepping in.

"Careful, don't start anything we don't have time to finish."

"You mean you don't have time to finish," I teased. "I've got all morning."

It turned out I didn't.

I made my morning check-in call to Spencer a couple minutes early. She thanked me for saving her the trouble. We kept it short since she had to get to her morning briefing. I had just hung up with her when my phone rang; I didn't recognize the number.

"Good morning, Finders."

"Oh, good, you're there; I wasn't sure what time you started. I'm looking for David Malcolm?"

"This is David."

"Mr. Malcolm, my name is Veronica Blake, and I'm with Intersure. I was hoping we could retain you for a job."

"Nice to meet you Miss Blake. Please, call me David. What kind of job?"

"There was a painting stolen from a client of ours a few months ago. So far we haven't had any luck recovering it, and we're getting close to the policy deadline for payment. You came highly recommended, so I thought we'd give you a try."

"Well, thank you for the opportunity. May I ask who referred you to me?"

"Your attorney, Mr. Cicarelli. He's done business with our office before. We were a little skeptical at first, but he referred us to the article regarding your recent work with the FBI. We're hoping you do as well with women on canvas as you do with the real thing."

"Ooh, I like her," Jamie said.

"I'll do my best," I said. "When and where can we meet to discuss it?"

"Whenever and wherever you'd like, we're pretty flexible. Our offices are downtown, but if you'd rather, I can come to you."

Considering my office was a wrought iron table and chairs out by the pool, I thought I'd go to them.

"Well, since you're being nice enough to give me a shot, I can come to you. Let's see, it's eight-twenty now, I could be there by ten, or if you're busy, we could wait and meet after lunch."

"No, ten o'clock will be fine, we'll see you then," she said. She gave me the address and instructions on where to park. I wrote it all down, and then went up to the main house to see if Doreen was available on short notice.

"Well, good morning, Mr. Malcolm," she said as she opened the door, "and how are you this fine morning?"

"It's looking like it's shaping up to be a good day," I said. "I just got a call from a company wanting help tracking down a misplaced painting; I was wondering if you were free to tag along and hold my hand for my first big meeting."