Mute (Muted Trilogy Book 1) (24 page)

"I suppose not. All right. I’ll tell you more as soon as I can."

She withdrew but didn't break their connection, then typed a message to the guard.

I've felt like somebody has been watching me when I leave the library. I don't have any good reason to think they mean me harm, but now I'm sure this man has been watching me. Can you forward this to the police?

He nodded and looked at the screen, reaching to take the mouse from her and running through the few-minute section several times. His mouth had pulled down into a frown when he straightened and typed on his phone again.

"I don't know that this will help the police department at all. I'll forward this and let them know, for sure, but I know they can barely spare enough men for patrols. Their investigative team is small and swamped. We haven't been able to find anyone to replace the guys who watch the city buildings that need it, either. It's pretty much just me and these cameras." As his phone stopped relaying the message, the man gestured to his many screens.

So there isn't much I can do?

"On this much information, you aren't going to be a high priority. It won't be dismissed, though. Just not urgent. People are getting back to work more regular-like ‘cause they're running out of money, and jobs are taking them back ‘cause everyone's still short on staff. So hopefully they can get someone out to talk to you before it's been too long. Meantime, maybe don't be alone if you can help it."

Jemma nodded.

Can I see if there's anything in the more recent recordings?

He studied her before typing again. "As long as you feel up to it. I can go through it for you, soon as I get a chance, keep an eye out for this guy."

Jemma closed her eyes, taking a breath, holding it, then releasing it and shaking her head.

I'll finish going through it. I'll feel better if I see it myself.

"Okay. I'll put together an email and get that file attached. Let me know soon as you're done."

Jemma nodded again and moved her attention back to the computer. She went through the rest of that day and then switched to Friday, watching the piece of parking lot and the lack of activity along the side of the building. Around noon, one patron went from the back parking lot to the front, walking through the camera's path to the main door, then back again about thirty minutes later. Otherwise, there was nothing else visibly out of place, not on Friday, and not on Saturday.

She closed the files and turned toward the security guard, who looked her way at the sound of Jemma's computer chair wheels against the hard floor.

"Anything else?" his phone asked.

Jemma shook her head and typed a response.
Nothing else.

“Alright, you keep yourself safe. I’ll forward this to the police. They’ll contact you if they have questions. Is your personnel file up to date?”

She nodded once more.
Thank you
, she typed.

“Don’t mention it.” He set his phone down and turned back to his screens, and Jemma left, walking briskly back to her car and driving away before she’d chosen a destination.

***

Jemma drove aimlessly around town, the heavy traffic preventing any relaxing effect she sometimes found in the activity. She considered stopping at a beach, but the beaches were crowded on an unseasonably warm weekend. Finally, she found herself pulling into Jack’s driveway. She walked over to Don’s house, raising her hand to ring the bell, then letting her arm fall back to her side without making contact.

She was pretty sure Jack wouldn’t mind her showing up unannounced, but what if he wasn’t at his father’s, after all?

"Jack?" she sent. "Are you at your dad's?"

"Yeah," Jack sent back without delay. "He's sleeping. Everything okay? Can you Talk now?"

"I can. Can you come outside?"

She felt mild surprise, and the door opened inward several seconds later, Jack scanning her face before stepping forward to wrap her in a hug. Jemma tensed for a moment, then relaxed, steadying herself when she breathed out. He pulled away and nodded toward his father’s house.

“Come inside?”

“All right.” She followed him in, glad he hadn’t tried to hug her longer. She wasn’t very used to hugs, to other people being in her personal space. It had felt nice once she’d gotten past the surprise, but Jack was definitely more comfortable with contact than she was. In the living room, he let her sit on the couch, then sat beside her, his leg against hers. “Will you be able to hear your dad if he needs something?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Jack sent. “Out of range to Talk from his room, but he’s got his cell, and there’s a bell he can ring if his hands are hurting too much.” He paused, watching her. “Tell me what’s wrong? Beyond the obvious.”

She ran a hand through her hair, then quickly went through what she’d seen in the video and what the security guard had told her.

“It’s just,” she sent, “it feels like nobody can really help unless something bad actually happens, and there’s nothing I can do to keep it from happening in the first place.”

“Other than what we’re already doing.” His mental tone was gentle, laced with confidence and support.

“Have you made any progress in finding any connections between us, any other patrons who might be able to Talk this way?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing yet. I’ve gone through some of the more obvious things. We already figured out we didn’t really shop at the same stores or go to the same places to blow off steam, except the library. Finding out anything about the other patrons gets tricky since I don’t think you really want me hacking into your system to get ahold of their information.” Jemma raised her eyebrows at Jack, who gave her a lopsided grin in return. “I’m not gonna do anything to risk your job, and I won’t do anything that’s likely to land me in jail,” he clarified.

“How are you figuring out about the patrons, then?”

“I know some of them, sort of. Used to chit-chat a good bit before that got tricky. Started there. Haven’t gotten much further yet.”

“How are we going to find out whether anyone else there can Talk if they’re hiding it like we are?” She frowned, looking down at the couch, then blinked and looked back up at Jack. “How did you find out you could Talk to me? I mean… Why did you tell me good night if you didn’t know I was there?”

“Ah.” Jack’s cheeks colored. “Well, that’s kind of… Okay, so I’m not quite saying I believe in ghosts, right? But I’m also not saying I don’t believe in them, or maybe in people who are there even though we can’t see them. Like maybe there really are aliens and plane shifters, and maybe other planes come close enough to ours that we can sense each other. Anyway, those first nights, I just felt like someone was there, like someone could hear me, you know? And, I mean, if someone’s in your room when you’re going to sleep, you say good night, right?” He shrugged one shoulder, cheeks still lightly pink.

“Logical reaction to some less-than-likely reasoning,” responded Jemma, lips pulling up to one side. When he saw she was smiling but not laughing, Jack relaxed, a smile crossing his face. “I think you were probably feeling our connection but didn’t know what it was.”

He nodded. “That’s what I think, too. You’re better at feeling it now than I am, though.”

“Maybe. I’ve tried feeling for other connections, but there’s nothing, so I don’t think we’ll find any others that way. What were you thinking of trying next?”

“I’m not sure whether you want to know. It’s not something entirely legal.”

Jemma watched him, his brown eyes focused on hers. “It’s not going to hurt anybody?”

“No.” His tone was emphatic, reinforced up by a surge of determination. “I wouldn’t do anything that could hurt someone.”

“If the people who are supposed to protect us are too busy to do it, and as long as we could get hurt by being open with strangers, then I’m okay with it,” she sent. “Just go light on the details about how you’re doing it, all right?”

He nodded. “I’m going to get us a copy of that surveillance video and then make it so we can watch the feed from anywhere. I should have done that to begin with.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

Soundless

The library was quiet that Monday afternoon, just a few patrons present. Upstairs, Jack was working. Jemma stood at the circulation desk working through her thoughts.

She wasn’t really comfortable with some of the technicalities involved with Jack’s hacking into the library’s video feed, something he’d done quickly, followed by muttering about the lack of security in the city’s online systems. Aside from occasionally speeding if the conditions were safe, she’d never really done anything illegal. The few times she’d accidentally carried something out of a store without paying for it—usually a chocolate bar that had wedged itself behind her purse—she’d returned promptly to pay.

She was less comfortable, though, with the idea that she could disappear at any time, that maybe the police and city security couldn’t do anything to keep her safe until it was too late. If the law was there to protect people, Jack’s actions might be violating the letter of the law, but they didn’t seem to be compromising the spirit of the law.

Jemma shifted her focus before she could talk herself out of being okay with what did seem to be the most logical course of action. She looked around the library. A mother and child sat reading in the children’s corner, and a young man, probably seventeen or eighteen, browsed the young adult section, glancing toward the door as if worried someone might catch him looking at books about werewolves and vampires.

“Is there anyone else up there?” Jemma sent to Jack.

He sent back a wordless affirmative. “One person. It looks like she’s doing homework. College student. Everything okay down there?”

“Yeah. Seems like it’s just a slower Monday than usual. Cecily said it was slow this morning, too,” Jemma sent.

“How’d she take the news you might be getting watched?”

Jemma closed her eyes and let out a breath. “I’ve never seen her type so quickly. She actually had typos! She started going on about how the city should protect its workers and that they should instate some sort of draft if they can’t even manage that much. She’s going to make sure she has a family member with her when she comes and goes, just in case, and she said she’ll ask for my job back so she can fire me if I try to come in alone.” She opened her eyes, and her mouth twitched. “I think she was serious, too.”

“She cares about you,” sent Jack.

“I know. She acts almost cold sometimes, but she reminds me of my mom in some ways.” Jemma rubbed her shoulder. “My mom. I can’t imagine how she would react if she knew everything.”

Jack sent a wave of reassurance and agreement. “I don’t think it would be a good reaction, no, but we’re not telling them until we know it’s safe.”

“Right.” Jemma watched the mother and child leave without taking any books, and she walked over to the children’s corner to tidy the area.

“All right, I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ve got the video feed up in a corner of my screen, and I’ll let you know if I see anything.”

“Thanks.” Jemma felt the connection dampen, as it did when one or the other of them stopped paying attention. She finished re-shelving the books that had been placed in the bin set aside for that purpose, and she returned to the circulation desk just in time to hear the front door open. She moved the mouse on her computer to make sure it was awake in case the patron entering needed help finding something she didn’t know off the top of her head.

When she looked up again, a woman was making her way past the bookshelf at the entryway, looking around as if unsure of where she was going. Her dark hair was longer than Jemma’s own, and as the woman jumped and looked behind her before continuing forward, her hair spun away from her light-blue jacket. Jemma lifted a hand in greeting when the woman finally made eye contact, pausing as what looked like recognition flashed across the stranger’s face. Jemma maintained her smile as she sent a wave of uncertainty toward Jack. She felt acknowledgment in return.

“Want me to come down or just keep an eye on things from up here?” he asked.

“Up there is fine,” sent Jemma. “I’m probably overreacting.”

“I’m right here on the balcony,” he sent. “I’ll stay where I can see you until you tell me to back off.”

“Thanks,” she sent. She reached for the tablet, typing a cheery,
How can I help you today?
and orienting it back toward the patron, who stopped right in front of the desk. The woman glanced at the tablet, then bit her lip and looked up at Jack and then back to Jemma.

Are you Jemma?
the woman typed.

Jemma reflexively reached for where her name tag was usually attached to her blouse, finding nothing but cloth. She must have forgotten to put it on that morning.

“She knows my name,” she sent Jack. “She was looking for me.”

“I’m on my way down, just in case.”

Jemma sent back acceptance, then reached for the tablet to apologize for the lack of identification. Before she could flip the screen back in the other direction, the woman grabbed her wrist.