Page 40 of A Shared Mind

That wasn’t true—I’d looked it up online, but seeing a picture of something and seeing it in person were two different things. The conical-shaped tips of the sorghum plants I saw in photos were likely beautiful to see in the field.

“You wanna go? I’d love to show you around. Let’s take the groceries over to Mama’s and get the introduction out of the way. I’ll give you the nickel tour on the way, and then tomorrow morning, you can ride with me out to the sorghum field.” Clay’s glowing grin had me smiling in return.

“That sounds fun. Where’s your restroom? I’d like to, uh, freshen up if we’re going to meet your mother.” I glanced around the kitchen and remembered I’d left the flowers in the truck.

“I left the flowers in the truck. I’ll be right back.”

“I brought them in and put them in a pitcher.” He pointed to the kitchen sink where a glass pitcher was filled with water and the bouquet. “Now, follow me.” Clay grabbed my suitcase and his garment bag and headed down the hall. As I followed him, I noticed the walls were filled with framed family photos I’d need to explore another time.

Once we entered the primary bedroom, Clay pointed toward his ensuite before he placed our bags on a bench at the end of a king-sized bed. “Wash cloths and towels are in the cabinet. Look around for anything you need, darlin’, and if you can’t find it, let me know.”

He left me alone in his primary suite, even closing the door behind him to give me privacy. I wasn’t sure what to say or do for an instant, so I walked into his bathroom and braced my hands on the vanity sink.

“Damn, Ramon, I never thought I’d say this, but I wish you were here to give me some advice. You’d know what to say to someone’s mother. You met more than one, I’m sure.”

I turned on the hot water and closed my eyes before bending over the sink and splashing hot water on my face, quickly switching the faucet to cold. Once I felt refreshed, I reached for a towel. A touch guided me toward the towel rack where I grabbed the towel to dry my face. When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t Clay staring back at me.

“How? Why? What are you doing here?” Staring back at me through the mirror with a cocky smirk was Ramon Blanco. And he wasn’t alone. “Dad?” Oh, dear god, I was hallucinating.

“Hi, Justin.” My father was standing next to Ramon in the reflection.

Orren Watkins had been a hell of a father. He had his own insurance company and tried to teach me how things worked in the insurance game, though it wasn’t really my thing. I still learned at his knee how to run a successful business. I appreciated his guidance to this day, and his compassion for his fellow man was immense. It wasn’t too surprising he was with Ramon.

“Dad, how are you here?” I glanced around to see I was still in the bathroom.

My father grinned. “Well, there’s this clause—it doesn’t matter. Ramon sought me out to apologize for possessing you. He seemed genuinely sorry, and when he told me what was happening, I wanted to talk to you. He’s hoping you’ll give those on the council a reason to believe he’s redeemable. Do you believe he is?”

“Is he redeemable?” I glanced at my father then Ramon. “Are you redeemable? Will you be able to help me find out who killed you?"

Dad chuckled. “Everyone is redeemable, Justin. Ramon is a product of his environment. He was left unsupervised much of the time because his mother worked two and three jobs to keep a roof over their heads. There are so many things that contributed to him becoming the man he was when he was killed, but he’s really not a bad guy. His choices were informed by the things he witnessed growing up. I’ve met some members of his family, and they’re not concerned about his eternity, but I am. Maybe you could help him?”

“Dad, how the hell do I do that?”

“Find out who killed him.”

Was he serious? “Any idea how to do that?”

My father smiled. “You’re a smart guy, Justin. You’ve got an amazing man in your corner. The two of you can figure this out.” Dad and Ramon disappeared from the reflection, and suddenly, there was a sharp pain in my head.

“Justin? Darlin’?” The voice was melodic, and I opened my eyes to find Clay smiling down at me. Why was I looking up? What the hell had happened?

“Hello, handsome. Are you okay? I think you hit your head on the towel bar.” Clay’s expression was one of concern. He helped me sit up and grabbed the hand towel from vanity counter to put it over my temple. When he pulled it away, I saw blood.

“Shit.” What else could I say?

“It’s okay. I think you tripped over the rug, which is going into the trash right now. I’m so sorry. Let’s see how bad this is.” Clay lifted the towel from my head. “It’s a small cut. Let me get my first-aid kit, and I’ll get you fixed up.”

“I think I’m okay, Clay.”

The kiss on my forehead calmed me. “Gimme a second, darlin’.”

Clay retrieved a first aid kit from the hall close and went to work on the cut, spreading something that immediately stung.

I hissed.

“I’m sorry it stings but give it a second. Headache?” Clay was concerned, and I didn’t want him to be. I’d be fine, but I was still trying to figure out what the fuck had happened with my father and Ramon Blanco appearing in Clay’s bathroom mirror.

“Not yet.” I hoped to fuck I didn’t get a headache. I’d had enough other shit to worry about.