Chapter Twenty-six

I SAT IN MY computer chair in my room, noise-canceling headphones on, hands behind my head, waiting for seven o’clock. It was something about the silence the headphones provided that calmed my busy thoughts. Too bad they didn’t silence all the voices inside my head.

I had already mentioned something to Dean about meeting up with Kate at the Schofield Mall. “A place with a lot of witnesses” was how Kate described it. Have I mentioned she’s paranoid?

My cover story was that we were getting outfits for the dance, and it was probably a good idea for me to actually do so. The problem was that Dean wanted his date, Celia, to meet us as well. My plan was to tell Dean everything on the way there. I had a feeling we were going to need his help.

Before the end of the school day, the rumors flew that Laura had passed out. Yet it wasn’t Laura’s accident that hung with me; it was the real nagging (scary, if I actually thought about it) question of whether I’d been alone in Laura’s mind. Twice now I’d encountered a presence while inside. Was it some kind of subconscious manifestation I had just never noticed before? And why hadn’t I felt it while flipping through Kate’s comic books, or even further back, while scooting chairs in Greg’s mind? Then again, I hadn’t really been paying all that much attention, either.

A sharp chill ran down my body. What if there really was something inside people’s minds? What was roaming around inside mine? Was it the reason I was having nosebleeds? My thoughts came to the stiff question: Was I slowly dying, or something worse?

My bedroom door swung open with a swift, jarring motion, and Rick Mitchell walked in.

“Holy crap!” I lurched back, almost falling completely out of my chair.

Dressed in his khaki sheriff’s department uniform, Rick looked strangely professional, entering my room as if it was some crime scene.

“Sorry, Nolan,” he said, and Dean came in behind him. Instantly, something didn’t feel right. The man was wringing his hands together. I didn’t need to read Rick’s mind to know he was nervous. I righted myself and slid my headphones to dangle around my neck.

“I’ll get right to it.” Rick cleared his throat. “Two things, Nolan. First, I wanted to make sure you two behave yourself tonight at the mall. Don’t think that just because you guys live under this roof, this badge doesn’t count.” He tapped his finger on the gold star on his shirt.

I nodded to him. Was he serious? Did he even know his straight-arrow son? I didn’t think buying dress shirts for a dance was a federal offense. Maybe a neon-orange Hawaiian shirt might get you in trouble with the fashion police.

I saw Dean’s face and assumed he had just been given that same advice. And Dean, being Dean, didn’t want to exclude anybody, ensuring that the warning be forwarded to me personally.

“We’ll be on our best behavior.” I tossed the headphones from around my neck to my desk and stood, giving Rick a short, playful salute.

Rick’s face still looked sullen. And now the real reason they’d come to see me. “Secondly.”

He waited a breath. “Someone is here to see you, Nolan.” Rick quickly followed with, “He just wants to talk.”

Even before Rick had finished his sentence, I answered, “I don’t have time to talk.” I had a feeling I knew who “he” was, and it was true—I didn’t have time to talk. Dean and I were supposed to meet Kate.

Rick rubbed the back of his neck. “I get it, but a few minutes won’t hurt.”

I wanted to argue, but didn’t.

“I told your mom—” Rick caught himself, “—um … Tracy that I would come up here and prep you.”

I looked at Dean now. He avoided me, shrinking behind his dad’s shoulder. The whole “behave yourselves” speech had just been a cover. I’d known something wasn’t right.

“I’ve got a shift tonight, but if you want, I can stay.”

I quickly thought it through. “I’ll be fine. You just be ready to leave in, like, ten minutes.” I pointed at Dean. He nodded.

With that, the two turned and left the room. The only reason I was agreeing to talk to the person downstairs was that it might satisfy Rick and Tracy and get them off my back. That, and I wanted to respect them.

I paused at the top of the stairs and listened. Like I said, I had an idea of who it might be, and I was right. His voice gave him away. It was a voice I’d heard just about once a week on the phone. I descended the stairs, rolling the cuffs of my shirt. My mind was already resisting talking to this guy in any sort of way.

“Oh, Nolan, there you are,” Tracy said. Her statement was staged, considering she had sent Dean and Rick up to prompt me.

I stood on the threshold of the living room. The man had his back to me. Dr. Edgar Vance turned to me as if he were just there to have a cup of coffee with the Mitchells, nothing else, and acted surprised to see me, as if he didn’t know I lived there.

“Hello there, Nolan,” he said. I felt like a spy amongst the enemy and was now being interrogated as such. I slowly walked to the opposite side of the room, but did so like it was layered with traps.

“What’s up?” I finally asked, landing myself in the La-Z-Boy chair kitty-corner from the doctor. He had a tired-looking expression. I knew the feeling. Lines ran across his face, aging him like a weathered stone. His thin hair was only slicked back on the sides because he had none on top, but the most prominent feature was his nose. It sat on his face like a hook. His small eyes glimmered as if they had been yearning for this encounter. I looked past him, cutting our contact, feeling creeped out.

He creased his mouth into a playful smile, not sinister, which was a good thing. And to be honest, I really had nothing to fear from this guy. My resolve was just to shut myself off to him, answer him in short bursts of words, and then see him on his way. He’d be satisfied, as would the Mitchells, and then life could go on.

My stomach growled, and Dean tossed me a candy bar with a nod. I almost burst out laughing, considering that he seemed to have read my mind. The irony. Then an irresistible thought swept over me. I could easily jump inside the doctor’s head and learn all kinds of things I probably didn’t really want to know.

“Well, let’s get to it, shall we?” the doctor said, shifting his attention to Tracy. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with Nolan alone.” He smiled at her. It wasn’t a question—more of an order. Instead of feeling trapped, it now felt like I was being abandoned. Tracy looked across to Dean and got to her feet. Her attention lingered on me.

“We’ll be in the next room, if you need anything,” she said.

“Sure, that’s just fine,” answered the doctor, pushing them with his words. Dean followed his mom, and I could hear their hushed voices as I watched them exit the room. When I brought my gaze back to the doctor, he was holding his hand out to me.

“I haven’t properly introduced myself.” I took his hand, shaking it. “Dr. Edgar Vance.”

His hand was warm, almost inviting. We parted, and then I noticed a thick file folder on the coffee table between us. It was labeled “Jacob Day.” I swallowed a chunk of the candy bar, but suddenly lost my appetite for it.

“Now, just to be on the level with you, I’m only here on behalf of your father.” He tapped the file folder with his fingers. “I’m not here to persuade, convince, or even guilt you into anything. Just simply talk.”

Even though he said those things, I didn’t have to read his mind to know he was lying through his teeth. If his nose had been any more pointed, it would have poked me in the eye.