Chase

by Linwood Barclay

  “Emily!” Jeff screamed, pointing.

  She didn’t look back. She was either really, really fearless, or really, really stupid. Chipper was barking non-stop. Jeff wondered if he’d make that horrible sound again. But would it have any impact over the din of the motors?

  The speedboat was only twenty feet behind them.

  Chipper had his front paws on Emily’s seat to give him a better view of the situation. Jeff took a look at his phone. If Chipper had any great ideas, he was keeping them to himself.

  Maybe there was only so much you could expect from a dog. Even a dog like Chipper.

  “They’re going to hit us!” Jeff shouted.

  This time, Emily turned around. But not, as it turned out, to see how close the speedboat was getting to them.

  Emily did something that seemed completely, totally and absolutely insane.

  She grabbed hold of the back of the motor with both hands and pulled forward, tipping the motor’s propeller, which was spinning at about a million miles per hour, out of the water.

  It made a roar so loud it drowned out the speedboat for a second.

  “Emily, what are you do—”

  And then Jeff realized. He looked off to the left, and there was the red buoy.

  It was the six-foot-tall metal marker that indicated the location of the rock wall just below the surface of the water.

  They skimmed right over the submerged wall without touching it. If the motor had been down, there would have been one huge crashing noise and the boat would have come to a jarring halt.

  As soon as they’d cleared the underwater fence, Emily dropped the engine back into the water and they kept on going.

  Daggert and his friend, however, didn’t fare quite so well.

  The speedboat crossed over the wall at high speed. Chipper and Jeff could barely believe what happened when that eighty-horsepower motor struck the rocks.

  The front of the boat kept going. The transom—the back end of the boat—was ripped clean off.

  Daggert and the driver pitched over the bow—flying through the air like a couple of massive seagulls—and disappeared into the water. No sooner had they landed in the drink than the front of the boat plowed right over them. The back end exploded. Flames and black smoke shot skyward.

  “You did it!” Jeff said to Emily. “You did it!” Jeff was on his feet, arms in the air in victory. Chipper’s tail was wagging so vigorously it was making his entire body shake.

  Emily steered the boat in a wide arc, heading back in the direction of Shady Acres, while Jeff kept his eyes on the wreckage, waiting to see if one or two heads would bob up above the surface of the water.

  They did not.

  Chipper barked at Jeff, which he took to mean he had been sent a message. He looked at his phone and saw that Chipper did, in fact, have something to say.

  Wow.

  Jeff wanted to believe they were in the clear, but they still had Bailey and Crawford to worry about.

  When Daggert failed to show up in that boat with Chipper and Jeff, his associates would know something had gone wrong. So, even though they were headed back to the relative safety of Shady Acres, it really wasn’t that safe at all. The boy and the dog could not stay there long.

  As the three of them approached Shady Acres, they saw two men and a woman standing at the end of the dock: Emily’s father—John Winslow—and Harry Green, from cabin number eight…

  And the woman was Aunt Flo!

  John grabbed hold of the boat as it reached the dock while Harry secured the front and back lines.

  “Aunt Flo!” shouted Jeff, who would have been the first out of the boat if Chipper hadn’t leapt out ahead of him.

  She had a slightly dazed expression on her face as she held her arms out to her nephew. As he hugged her, he said, “I was scared they’d killed you.”

  Dozily, she said, “I’m still not sure what happened. But Mr. Green kind of filled me in.”

  “I saw the whole thing,” Harry said. “And I brought John here up to speed, too. Whatever those men wanted, they sure got what was coming to them.” He was looking out across the lake at the still-burning boat.

  “What did they want?” Emily’s father asked.

  “Him,” Emily said, pointing to Chipper.

  “A dog?” John said.

  “You gotta be kidding,” Harry said.

  Woozily, Aunt Flo said, “You know I don’t like dogs.”

  Together, Jeff and Emily tried to explain what a special dog Chipper was, that he was the product of some secret government research centre. Not surprisingly, the adults were skeptical.

  “We can talk to him with our phones!” Emily said. “I set it all up!”

  “Come on, this is crazy,” John said.

  Jeff handed John Winslow his phone. “Ask him something.”

  “Ask him what?”

  “Anything you want.”

  Emily’s dad looked dubiously at the screen, then said to Chipper, “What’s three hundred and thirty times four hundred and ninety-one?”

  Then, instantly,

  162,030.

  Emily’s dad did a double take.

  Jeff asked, “Is that right?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Emily grinned. “Trust me, it’s right.”

  “No, it’s a trick,” John said. “It’s the phone answering the question, not the dog. It’s an app or something.” He thought a moment. “I’ve got a better test.” He handed the phone back to Jeff, then knelt down next to Chipper and whispered something directly into his ear that no one else could hear.

  He stood and said to Jeff, “If he’s so smart, he can tell you what I told him.”

  Jeff read aloud from his phone, “Emily means the world to me and I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

  Emily looked as though she might tear up. She slipped an arm around her father’s waist and he drew her tightly to him. The man looked stunned. “I don’t know how this is possible.”

  Harry said, “I think maybe it is, John.”

  Jeff held up his phone so the others could see. “Chipper has more to say.”

  They read:

  They will be back. With more people.

  “What’s he mean?” John asked.

  “They’re going to keep looking for him,” Jeff said. “And I guess they’re going to be looking for me, too.”

  “Just give them the dog and tell them you’re sorry,” Aunt Flo said. “Tell them you’ll never tell anybody about this!”

  Harry put a hand gently on Flo’s arm. “I don’t think that’s going to satisfy them, Flo. Your nephew’s in danger. We have to get him away from here.”

  Aunt Flo looked at John. “Didn’t you used to be a police officer? Can’t you do something about this?”

  John looked at her helplessly. “I’ve never come up against something like this. But I know some people, I could make some calls and—”

  “No,” Jeff said. “Chipper says these people from The Institute monitor all that kind of stuff. Anyway, I think Harry’s right. The part about me—about both of us—being in danger.” He put his hand on Chipper’s head. “But where do we go? How do we get there? I don’t know what to do.”

  “That’s where I come in,” Harry said. “I’ll get you and the dog far enough away that you’re safe, and maybe by then we’ll have figured out what to do.”

  Jeff looked at Chipper. “How does that sound?”

  Okay.

  “It’s a deal,” Jeff said. “But how did your van get here? How did you get here?”

  “I’d seen what they did to your aunt here, and I was hiding behind one of the cabins. One of them—the woman—saw that I’d stupidly left the keys in the van. She took off with it. Luckily, I’ve got a second set. When they took off up the road, I started to run after them, but I couldn’t exactly catch up to a van. A little while later, I heard this crazy, high-pitched noise coming from the woods.”

  Jeff pointed to Chipper. �
��That was him.”

  Harry grinned. “You got some howl. Anyway, it sounded like it was coming from that old train station.”

  “You know about that place?” Emily asked. “I thought it was my secret.”

  Harry grinned again. “I found it weeks ago when I was taking one of my nature walks. So I headed that way. About the time I got there I saw those three no-goods coming out, one limping pretty bad. Two of them left in the SUV; the one with the limp headed down this way. I went over, got my van back.”

  “You’re a pretty smart guy,” Jeff said admiringly. “You know, I think we should get going.”

  “I guess so,” Harry said.

  “Can I have five minutes?” Jeff asked. “Chipper and I have something we have to talk about.”

  Jeff led Chipper off the dock and down the shoreline about twenty yards, where there was a rock about the size of a crushed car. Jeff climbed up on it, sat down, looking out over the water and the dying fire, and patted the stone next to him so Chipper would sit there.

  “You had something you wanted to tell me,” Jeff said, phone in hand.

  The dog leaned into him, resting his head against Jeff’s chest, poking his nose up under his chin.

  You remember I said some White Coats were mean and some were nice?

  “I remember.”

  Your mom and dad were the nicest.

  “What?” Jeff put some space between them and looked into the dog’s eyes, which Jeff seriously hoped were no longer sending any images back to anybody. “Are you saying my parents worked for this place, where they turned you into some kind of dog computer?”

  Yes. Do you know what your parents did?

  “I thought they did research for some drug company.” Jeff felt dizzy, like he could tumble off this rock at any moment. “Are you sure about this? I mean, you knew their names?”

  Edwin and Patsy. They talked about you all the time! You sounded so great. They told me you had a dog and you loved it so much! When your mom and dad were installing my equipment they told me about Aunt Flo and how she was the only living relative. I knew if something happened to them you would have to go live with her.

  “My parents told you all these things about me?”

  They enjoyed talking to me. Not just to see if I could understand language but because they liked me. I could tell they loved you very much. You had a very nice family.

  It was all starting to come together for Jeff. “So when you escaped, you came looking for me because you knew I’d take care of you. But they must not have told you my aunt hates dogs, that she would never have let me keep you.”

  A pause before Chipper said anything.

  That was not the only reason why I came looking for you.

  “Oh, well, fine—so you didn’t think I’d be a good one to take care of you.”

  I wanted to be sure you were safe. I wanted to tell you what I know.

  “So now I know,” Jeff said. “My parents lied to me for years. I thought they were figuring out how to make a new and improved aspirin, but instead they were working for some secret government organization that turns puppies into—into I don’t know what!”

  There is more!

  “More?” Jeff shook his head. He wasn’t sure he could take much more. “Okay, so what else?”

  The other White Coats were worried about your parents. Your mom and dad did not like where the research was headed. They thought the White Coats were going to do very bad things!

  “What do you mean?”

  They did not tell me. But they made their bosses nervous. Madam Director was afraid of what they might say or do.

  “Madam what?”

  She was afraid your parents would tell the world what The Institute was planning.

  “Well, I guess they got lucky when my parents died in that plane accident,” Jeff said. He thought Chipper would have an immediate reply, but nothing came up on the screen. Jeff wondered whether the battery was running low.

  But then:

  Not an accident!

  Jeff felt a chill run the length of his body. “No, no, no. That was an accident. There were like, dozens of people who got killed. It wasn’t just my mom and dad. All kinds of people. Entire families got killed when that plane went down.”

  So no one would suspect your parents were the target.

  “No way. This is crazy! What you’re saying…what you’re saying is…”

  They killed your mom and dad.

  The girl in the pink bikini was stretched out on a lounging chair at the end of the dock when she thought she heard some splashing around her. It wasn’t that clear, because she had earbuds tucked into her ears and was listening to music. She had a book on her lap and was working on a tan. If she hadn’t had the earbuds in her ears, she might have heard the explosion further up the lake, and if she had looked up from her book, she might have seen the smoke in the distance.

  But the splashing, that she heard.

  She closed the book on her finger so as not to lose her place, and looked up.

  Coming out of the water was a man in a suit.

  Not a rubber wetsuit, like somebody would wear to swim underwater. Not even a swimsuit. It was an actual suit. Black jacket and black pants with a big tear in them. White shirt and tie. Even a pair of sunglasses, perched haphazardly on his nose.

  The man was, of course, completely drenched as he emerged from the water. He did not look very happy. He had a gash in his forehead and was bleeding.

  The girl took out her earbuds.

  “Uh, you okay, mister?”

  He eyed her. “Give me your phone.”

  “Huh?”

  He pointed to the wires that had been dangling from her ears. “Are those hooked up to a phone, or not?”

  She reached into her lap and brought a phone out from under the book. She handed it to the man. Standing in the water next to the dock, he took it, disconnected the wire and tossed it back to her.

  He entered a series of numbers, put the phone to his ear, and turned away from the girl.

  “Madam Director,” he said. “Yes, I’ll hold.”

  He stood there several seconds, then said, “It’s Daggert.”

  “I’m rather in the middle of something,” Madam Director said.

  “This is important. It’s about the boy.”

  “You got him? And the animal?”

  “No. And no.”

  “That’s very disappointing,” said Madam Director.

  “The dog was looking for him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The boy. The dog was looking for the boy. The kid’s last name is Conroy.”

  A pause at the other end of the line. “Conroy?”

  “That’s right.”

  “The son of Edwin and Patsy?” Madam Director asked.

  “I haven’t confirmed it, but I think so.”

  “That’s interesting. That’s very interesting. And it’s also troubling.”

  “It is,” Daggert said.

  “You’d better get to the bottom of this, hadn’t you, Daggert?” Madam Director said.

  “Yes. But I’ve had a setback. And I have to regroup with my people.”

  Madam Director snickered.

  “What’s so funny?” Daggert asked.

  “I am amused,” she said. “That you should have so much more trouble getting rid of the boy than you did his parents.”

  “It’ll get done.”

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt of that,” she said. “If not by you, then by someone more competent.”

  “Look, you need to know—”

  But Daggert heard a click. Madam Director had ended the call.

  Seated behind her desk, she put down the phone, smiled, and said, “I must apologize for that interruption. Let’s get to know one another. Tell me your names again.”

  Two children—a boy and a girl—were sitting side by side on Madam Director’s leather couch. Perfectly still, hands folded in their laps. They were no more than seven or eight years
old. The boy was dressed in a pair of bright, white running shoes, new blue jeans and a crisp, red, buttoned shirt. His hair was combed neatly to one side. The girl was dressed in similar shoes, pale pink jeans and a white blouse. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

  “Let’s start with you,” Madam Director said to the girl. “What’s your name?”

  “My name is Peggy,” she said quietly.

  “That’s a pretty name. And how about you, young man? What’s your name?”

  “My name is Timothy,” he said warily.

  “Peggy and Timothy. How nice. What lovely children.” Madam Director smiled. “I’m so happy to have you here.”

  “Can we go home soon?” Timothy asked.

  “Why are we here?” Peggy asked.

  Madam Director waved her hand, dismissing the questions as unimportant. “All in good time. But before I answer any of your questions, I have a very, very important one for both of you.”

  The children waited expectantly.

  Madam Director got out of her chair and came round from behind her desk. She got down on her knees in front of the children so that their eyes were at a level. She took the boy’s hand in her left hand, and the girl’s in her right and gave each of them a squeeze.

  “How would you like it,” she asked, “if you could be the smartest, most clever, most amazing children in all the world?”

  Timothy thought about that and said, “I guess that would be okay.”

  Peggy wiggled her nose around, pondering. Finally, she said, “It’s good to be smart.”

  Madam Director said, “Oh, yes. It’s going to be very, very good.”

  “We should go.”

  The voice startled Jeff. He’d been staring at his phone, trying to comprehend what Chipper had told him, struggling to get his head around the significance of those six words.

  They killed your mom and dad.

  “Hey, pal, we should hit the road.”

  He looked up from the phone to see Harry Green standing off to his left.