Traveler (Traveler #1)(40)

22

Accusations and Assignments

It’s Saturday night, but I’m not out having a social life. Instead, I took a pain pill for my shoulder that put me to sleep and now I’m sitting on the edge of Mario’s desk in our classroom, swinging my legs back and forth and trying really hard not to roll my eyes as Finn speaks.

“Because of some new information,” he says, “we think it might be Ben.”

“Ben. Hmmm.” Mario’s eyes meet Rudy’s, and they both look concerned. We’re having a full meeting tonight, to consider what Finn calls the new development.

“Finn thinks it might be Ben,” I correct him. “He potentially could have been driving a blue car on Monday, but that’s pretty far-fetched.”

“And he doesn’t have an alibi,” Finn supplies.

“Yes, he does,” I refute. “He said his dad took the car to work.”

“He said,” Finn reminds me. “And we do know he’s got motive,” he continues. “I’m sure he’s not exactly thrilled to have me here.”

“No,” Rudy agrees. “I would imagine he’s not.”

Mario taps his chin thoughtfully. “We can’t rule him out as a possibility.” His eyes are staring off somewhere in the distance, as if he can see all the multitude of unrolling possible futures branching off every choice and diverting factor.

“He wouldn’t hurt anyone,” I assert vehemently. “I know Ben. He’s not like that.”

“It’s possible that Ben is being influenced,” Mario says. “Travelers—particularly seasoned ones—know exactly how to set off a subtle chain of events to achieve a desired goal.”

“Could someone influence him to borrow his father’s car and drive across a bridge that’s been closed for decades?” Finn asks.

“They couldn’t,” I answer through gritted teeth, “especially if he wasn’t in the car.”

“When I talk about influence, I mean that Ben might be unknowingly providing information to the Traveler who’s targeting Jessa,” Mario says. “Someone does seem to have information regarding her whereabouts.”

“Is it possible that Ben is the Traveler?” Finn asks.

“I’ve already looked into anyone who deals with Jessa on a day-to-day basis,” Rudy explains. “If there were another Traveler among them, I would have been informed. We’ve put the word out and so far, no Dreamer has claimed ownership of a rogue Traveler.”

“You all need to get this out of your heads,” I say. “Ben’s not a Traveler, and he’s not a killer.”

“You trust him.” Mario makes it a statement, not a question.

“Yes.” I am firm on this. But a look at Finn says he’s not so sure.

“Perhaps Finn isn’t being entirely unbiased,” Rudy says, eyeing him shrewdly.

“Ya think?” I snark.

Finn glares at me in response. “I’m looking at every option, Jessa.” He leans sullenly against the wall.

“We should investigate a little more thoroughly,” Rudy suggests.

Mario nods. “Agreed.”

“She needs someone closer at hand,” Rudy says thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should make accommodations for Finn to join her at school.”

“You can do that?” I ask.

“We can set events into motion and arrange it,” Rudy says. “Just as I arranged his arrival here in the first place.”

“Then I can keep a closer eye on you,” Finn says. “And Ben, too.”

“You’re wasting your time with Ben,” I say again.

“We just want to observe the situation,” Mario says placatingly. “In the meantime, I’ve got your first assignment.”

“Really?” I brighten instantly.

“She’s not really at the top of her game,” Finn says, frowning.

“This is an easy one,” Mario assures him. “A minor adjustment. She won’t be gone more than ten minutes.”

“It’s just as well,” Rudy says. “Finn, you and I have some follow-up to discuss.”

Finn’s not listening, so Rudy gently clears his throat.

“Sorry,” Finn mumbles, pushing off the wall where he’d been leaning. He gives me one last look over his shoulder before he follows Rudy out the red door.

Mario gestures for me to take a seat at a desk as the whiteboard shimmers to life behind him. A scene appears—like I’m watching a movie. It’s a park with lots of grass and benches, walking trails, and a fountain in the background.

“Where is that?” I ask.

“Arizona again,” he says.

“Arizona has grass?”

“In places. It’s not all desert, you know.” He leans back against his desk. “So, Jessa, are you ready for your first assignment?”

“I guess. You said it won’t take long, right?”

“It’s not difficult. Just a routine reroute.”

“So what do I do?”

He turns back to the scene to gesture toward a girl with curly brown hair, sitting alone on a bench near the far side of the open field.

“See her? Go over there, and recommend the book that’s on the bench next to her.”