Read Touch of Betrayal, A for Free Online Page A

words.
    I sucked it up, trying to breathe some air into my stressed lungs, then stepped back into the bedroom, and slapped my palm against the wall. A rush of words poured into my mind, none of them distinguishable, just a blur of vocabulary that sent another wave of shivers through me.
    Control, Everly. Get control of this.
    I blocked out the hissing sound, and focused on what I needed to know. “Who was in this room that you want me to know about?” I asked, hoping that a direct question, the sound of my voice would rein in the wall’s many stored sentences, and condense them into a precise understandable communication.
    Not this time.
    I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing the heels of my hands hard against my scalp. The background noise quieted some, so I made my way to the built-in dresser and ran my hands over the surface. And there was Millie, looking into the gold-framed mirror atop the dresser. Her gaze was thoughtful, almost as though she knew I’d eventually be there to see what she had to show me. And then she turned away to face the bed where Harlan sat, propped against the headboard. The covers were clumped around his waist, and he was bare-chested and smiling.
    Embarrassment flooded me, leaving enough heat behind to cause a rash. I slammed my eyes closed in a futile attempt to burn the image from my brain. I did not want to know anything about Millie and Harlan like that . Ev-ver.
    And I fled—ran headlong into the main cabin, straight through to the galley where I yanked a Diet Coke from the refrigerator, popped the top, and chugged several swallows. The bubbles burning my throat as I swallowed were a welcome distraction from the bedroom scene of my surrogate grandparents.
    I slid my butt along the metal cabinets until I hit the floor. Laughter bubbled from deep in my belly and poured into the empty galley. How silly was I? Of course Millie and Harlan had a sex life, and apparently an active one. More power to them, but surely there wasn’t any reason I had to witness their intimate moments. Maybe it was a good thing this trip across the country and a good part of the Pacific Ocean took a few hours. It’d take me that long to figure out what the hell was going on here, especially if I had to wade through the, um, personal stuff.
    It didn’t take long for me to gather my thoughts and start working on a plan to tackle the bedroom. I was positive that Millie had left the images there, imbedded in the walls, for me to find. According to my grandfather, she’d been best friends with my grandmother. So, they’d probably all studied Huna with the same Hawaiian shaman, and had similar psychic skills. The stuff I’d been born into.
    The answer to why Pierce had abducted me was in that room. I just had to avoid the personal stuff, get to the crux of the psychic intel, and apply whatever I learned to figure out why he’d kidnapped me, and how best to locate Millie and Harlan.
    Had Pierce abducted them, too? Was this some kind of setup?

 
    FIVE
     
    Setup or not, I had work to do. I scrambled to my feet, tossed my empty soda can into the trash, and scanned the galley. A silver pump container on the edge of the sink looked promising as a source of hand soap. I squirted some into my palm, and the scent of almonds filled the compact space, successfully obliterating the earlier remnants of marinara sauce. Probably a good thing since I hadn’t found any leftovers in the fridge, and I was still hungry.
    I washed my hands like an obsessive-compulsive cartoon character. Couldn’t seem to stop, but the mindless activity gave me a chance to whip up a plan for searching the plane. The hand washing had turned into a Lady Macbeth moment. Not so much neurotic as a fortuitous opportunity that would miraculously reset my fingertips and give me a fresh start on searching the bedroom—without lingering images of Harlan and Millie’s private life.
    I worked my way to the back of the cabin, clutching chair backs because