A Gift of Thought by Sarah Wynde Page B

way every conversation between them about him had ended in the past twenty years: with her stomping off in fury.
    “What about Chesney?” The words were reluctant. They were both being careful, she could tell. She was trying to hold her emotions in rein and he was controlling his own. But what she got from him with the mention of Chesney was like a bad taste showing up in her mouth, a bitterness that made her grimace. “He’s highly respected in DC,” she protested.
    ‘Have you read him?’ It was a thought, not spoken aloud.
    Sylvie shrugged. The answer was no, not really. She didn’t work around Chesney. He’d wanted female protection on his daughter and she was Ty’s best female op. Most of her time was spent accompanying Rachel to school or after-school activities. “I guard his daughter.”
    “He’s mixed up with the Mexican drug cartels.”
    Sylvie laughed. “No way.”
    But Lucas’s expression was serious. She took a step closer to him, looking up into his face, trying to read his emotions, to feel the flavor of his thoughts.
    “He’s Raymond Chesney,” she said, pointing out the obvious. “He’s the ultimate DC power broker. Hell, his company probably raked in millions from their Iraq contracts. Maybe billions.”
    “AlecCorp?”
    “They were everywhere in Iraq,” Sylvie confirmed.
    “You were there?”
    Sylvie nodded. “Private contractor. I wanted to re-enlist using my real name, but I couldn’t.” She gave a half-chuckle, not really amused, but no longer bitter, either. “No high school diploma. So I served my country for money instead of honor.”
    Lucas paused. Sylvie could feel the questions he wanted to ask, but she forestalled him by saying, “Not the point. Chesney has no reason to be in business with the cartels.”
    “He’s selling them weapons,” Lucas answered.
    Weapons? Sylvie frowned, searching Lucas’s face. He believed he was telling the truth, she could see. And the idea of Chesney selling weapons illegally didn’t cause the same instinctive recoil on her part as the thought of drugs did. It felt unlikely, but not impossible. “Someone at AlecCorp would have to be involved.”
    “Yeah,” he agreed. “But I don’t know who.”
    Sylvie didn’t answer. He’d just told her what he was looking for in Chesney’s office, she knew. But what was she supposed to do with that information? “I work for him,” she finally said. “I’m not going to spy on him. And I’m definitely not helping you break into his office.”
    “I didn’t ask you to,” Lucas answered.
    “I think you’re crazy to believe he’d get mixed up with drug dealers. He’s Raymond Chesney. He supports the tough-on-crime, pro-drug-war politicians. Pro-every-war actually, but that’s not the point.”
    “It might be,” Lucas answered, but Sylvie ignored him.
    An idea had just occurred to her. Was it terrible? Possibly. Spending time with Lucas was dangerous and she needed to remember that. But he was also persistent and unlikely to give up this ridiculous notion easily. “Next Friday night . . .”
    Lucas waited before prompting her. “Yes?”
    She looked away from him, shaking her head, already regretting her own insanity. “AlecCorp has a big holiday party. We were all invited, some kind of collegial courtesy thing because of Chesney. I wasn’t going to go, but all the bigwigs will be there, including Chesney. If you wanted to peek into a few minds . . .”
    Lucas was starting to smile. “Are you inviting me to a party, Sylvie?”
    She rolled her eyes. “I have no intention of spying on my employer. If reading a few minds will reassure you, I’ll help you. But only with this. I’m not doing anything else.”
    “I don’t want you to,” Lucas said quickly. “It’s too dangerous for you. I don’t want you involved.”
    “Dangerous?” Did he forget which one of them was an ex-Marine? “I can take care of myself, Lucas.”
    “I know you, Sylvie. If you find out—”
    “You