Echo 8 by Sharon Lynn Fisher Page B

dream made no sense to me, but the first thing I did was ask Abby whether she’d seen you. It could just be a coincidence, though, couldn’t it?”
    â€œAbsolutely. That’s why we conduct studies rather than relying on anecdotal evidence. But if you’ve had a lot of hunches play out in a similar way, I’d call that psi. Would you say you have?”
    She lifted the wine bottle from the coffee table and refilled their glasses. Ross let out a sigh.
    â€œYeah, I would.”
    â€œBut you don’t always trust them. You didn’t forbid me from going into the lab.”
    His jaw dropped as he turned to stare at her. “I absolutely did. You just told me why I was wrong and did it anyway. I’m pretty sure your special ability is always getting your way.”
    She laughed so hard she had to set down her glass. He handed her his napkin so she could wipe wine from her chin.
    â€œI’ve second-guessed myself a lot here,” he continued in a more sober tone. “It’s part of the reason I thought I should leave.”
    â€œCalmer, nonemotional states are more conducive to success with psi. We’ve been under a lot of strain.”
    She studied his profile. He was clearly uneasy about all this.
    â€œListen,” she said, “it doesn’t matter what you call it—precognition, good instincts, intuition—it’s part of you, and it’s a good thing. You’re lucky to have it. We can definitely help you enhance it. If you learn to use it more consistently, more confidently, it will help you in your job.”
    â€œWell, it sounds like I’m not going to have any choice about that. We’ll see what the director says when he comes.” He set his glass down and angled toward her. “You told Jake this morning that your mother had psi ability.”
    *   *   *
    It didn’t occur to him that he was more buzzed than he should be off two glasses of wine until he watched Tess’s face fall and remembered this was something she didn’t like to discuss.
    â€œYes,” she said quietly, shifting her gaze to the coffee table. “Not as strong as yours I don’t think.”
    â€œYou were close to her?”
    She gave a slow nod.
    â€œJake told me…” Bad idea, McGinnis .
    â€œJake told you what?”
    Ross believed this discussion needed to happen. But he was keenly aware of the risk of mangling it.
    â€œWe had a strange conversation right before you came down the last time,” he began carefully. “He told me he’d learned some things about you—about both of us, actually—during the energy transfer. He was worried about something that had happened in your past. He was worried the risks you were taking had to do with whatever it was.”
    She sank back against the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you sure this is your business, Ross?”
    â€œI’m sure it’s not . But as the person assigned to keep you alive, it would help me to know whether…” He trailed off, feeling less and less sure of himself. “I know you carry a lot of pain, and not because I have psychic abilities. I doubt it will come as a shock to you that the Bureau has a file on you, and that I’ve read it. I know about your mother’s death. I know about the meds. I know you were hospitalized for depression when you were a teenager.”
    Her voice trembled as she replied, “You may have been in my file, but that doesn’t make it okay for you to go fishing around in my head.”
    Mission mangled . He rose from the sofa and took a step away, trying to compose his thoughts over the effects of both the wine and the energy transfers.
    â€œYou’re right,” he said. “It’s not my business, and I’m sorry. Really all I need to say is this: If you push me to a choice between you and Jake again, Jake’s going to lose. What happened with him