by C. L. Stone
“And what about that area?” Mr. Buble asked, pointing to the room opposite Nathan’s bedroom.
“It’s an office right now,” Nathan said. “I only go in there to use the computer sometimes and I try not to touch too much. If my dad comes back, he’d notice.”
“Would he say the same about his bedroom?” Mr. Buble asked.
Nathan nodded. “It’s why I have Sang’s stuff in my room and this bathroom, but since we’re getting Victor, too, we’ll need more space. We’ve used the bed and that’s manageable. It’s the things on the dresser, in the closet that he’d probably notice if we moved them around too much. But we’ll have to take the risk. And I don’t think the Academy wants me here when he returns, so they’d give us plenty of notice to be able to return it to normal. I want to take pictures of where everything is so we can replace it exactly.”
“I see,” Mr. Buble opened the office door, taking a brief look inside.
I pictured the desk, the file cabinets, the pictures of helicopters on the wall. It had a closet and wood floors instead of carpet, with a rug in the middle. Technically a third bedroom just converted to an office space. I always thought it was funny for it to be an office when Mr. Griffin was never really here.
Mr. Buble had Nathan show him the master bedroom, the waterbed, the closet, the bathroom attached to it. He backtracked and closed the door again, motioning for Nathan to join him back in the kitchen.
He stood at the kitchen counter and spoke to us. “I feel we could use some time together to lay some groundwork and talk about the immediate future. It may be everyone on the team at current could use some outside perspective.” He waved a hand shortly toward the fridge. “Shall I help make some more breakfast for everyone?”
It wasn’t really a question. He was more insisting.
I’d really preferred to get some time alone with the others to figure out how to handle a manager and what we were supposed to do now. However, I couldn’t help think maybe I was acting ungrateful he was here. Should we hear him out? He was Academy, wasn’t he? He seemed interested in helping us.
I tentatively nodded, as did the others.
Mr. Buble took off the black suit coat he’d worn. He rolled up his sleeves neatly and tucked the tie back inside the collar to get it out of the way. He went to a couple of aprons that hung on a hook that I’d never even noticed before and he picked one up, covering his clothes carefully in black cotton material. He got to work making the toast.
Kota took over making eggs, some scrambled this time, and Nathan checked the fridge for any fruit.
Victor and I were the only ones standing by until Kota suggested we set the table.
There was something odd-feeling about Mr. Buble here, joining us for breakfast. Maybe because he was an adult. Mid to late thirties… Mr. Buble’s style and sometimes his tone felt strict and uptight, however his actions were different. While I expected him to be somewhat adult and talk to us like we were children, he was making us breakfast, being kind and offering to help. It was going to take getting used to someone much older who wasn’t actually out to get us.
Trust the Academy, right? It was harder than it sounded.
Within what felt like minutes, the table was set with scrambled eggs, the fried eggs rewarmed, toast, and a fruit salad. Instead of a simple plate and fork, Mr. Buble set out napkins and water glasses for everyone. The feeling became more formal than what we usually did.
At first, I wasn’t thinking about it, but Nathan and I were still in pajamas. It stuck out to me with the others fully dressed, and Mr. Buble impeccably dressed, how out of place we were. No one seemed to care to mention that we were different. Like Mr. Blackbourne, Mr. Buble seemed to draw out a feeling inside of me to be… better. Even if he never said a word or indicated I should.
He made sure we all had full plates before he settled down with his own with just a little bit of scrambled egg and fruit salad. He ate slowly, taking sips of water each time. “Do we have homework for tomorrow? I would like to get caught up on where we are with the school project.”
“Mr. Blackbourne has pulled us out of classes at this time,” Kota said. “We’ve skipped the pretense after the upset with the old principal and some of the administrators. We’re talking to teachers and looking over school records.”
“I see,” Mr. Buble said. “Has there been progress on discovering the whereabouts of the money that was allegedly embezzled?”
“He’s working on it. We all are available as needed.”
Mr. Buble nodded his head. “Does that mean part of your team is no longer really needed at the school? But are you still attending?”
“We felt Sang should continue attending, for the sake of her family situation, and at first any alerts about her not in attendance would have harmed her at home. However for now, mostly she’s helping Mr. Blackbourne in the office. We’re waiting until the divorce her parents are going through is finalized. I think if she misses a few days here and there it is fine, but she should make appearances.” He paused shortly and considered what he was saying. “Victor might be needed, now that we have access, to try to break down the school computer data and see if there’s some traces of what’s been going on there. The rest of us make an appearance in the hallways. Dr. Green teaches a class, so he should still go.”
Mr. Buble finished his fruit and eggs and put his fork neatly on his plate. With the napkin, he patted his lips, folded it, and placed it squarely on top. “Is it a requirement everyone stay at the school now that some key administrators have been removed? Are we just at the school to satisfy modest curiosity?”
Kota again grew quiet. I hadn’t realized with the changeup at school that was part of what they’d been doing from the start. They had been trying to get into the position they were right now. The original plan had been to find money that had been filtered from the school to the personal pockets of some people, particularly the principal and vice and anyone else who might have participated. With the principal and other key officials having been removed, it gave Mr. Blackbourne and the whole team all the access they needed to figure out where money had disappeared to.
They’d spent a couple of weeks just trying to locate the files that would let them know what happened, and they were very close. But that didn’t mean all of us needed to be around the school.
“…I…” Kota started to say, but he paused, seeming uncertain. “I think we continue with our search for all the information needed to get the money back into the school, until the job is completed, of course. We do have a situation that popped up while we were there… Volto… We need to find out who he is, his interest in us, and if he’s told anyone about the Academy… and how much he knows about it. Is it just us he’s after and will he follow us or will he stick around the school?”
“He always pops up,” Nathan said. “Victor’s car in the lake… that was him.”
“I remember the incident from the report,” Mr. Buble said. “He used your interest in capturing him to lure you away from what was going on at the school that night. It sounds like at the time he didn’t want you there and knew you would chase him.”
“He left me to die in the lake,” Nathan said.
“Did he know for sure you were in the lake?”
Nathan pressed his lips together and shook his head.
“I don’t like to work with assumptions,” Mr. Buble said. “What we know for sure is that this Volto led you away. We don’t know why it was important to do so.”
“We’re working on leads for Volto,” Kota said. “It’ll take time but we have an investigator, an Academy contractor, who is in charge of asking the principal and other key participants about that night. They might reveal who Volto is.”
I shared a glance with Nathan. He and I had found a mask with a voice modulator in Kota’s mother’s car.
We hadn’t figured out how it got to be there.
We wondered a few things: Volto’s intimate knowled
ge of the Academy, for one. Another was his ability to get on Kota’s property without the dog barking that a stranger was around. It would hint that the dog knew Volto.
Not to mention when Nathan was left alone after crashing Victor’s car into the lake, it was Erica who had appeared after. We’d talked about it a bit. It wasn’t a route she’d normally take. It didn’t make sense for her to be out there at that time.
We hadn’t mentioned it to Kota yet. How could we? What if it was…
“Sang Sorenson?” Mr. Buble’s voice stunned me out of my thoughts.
He said nothing further, and I fumbled for what to respond with. “Yes?” It was like when a teacher asked you a question but you hadn’t been paying attention and they remained quiet. Awkward.
He waited, like he was expecting me to say something but when I didn’t answer, he continued, “I understand you’re assisting Mr. Blackbourne as he’s taking over temporarily.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“However, in the afternoons, what happens? The evenings?”
“We’ve been…” I paused. “Sometimes…”
“She works part-time at the diner when she has time,” Kota said. “And when not doing that, we’ve been sorting supplies and catching up on some household to-do lists.” There was a short pause as he looked from Mr. Buble to me. “I don’t mean to speak for you, but we’ve had a strange night. We were all up rather late. Could I get you some coffee? Would that help?”
Him speaking for me relieved the pressure to not say too much. I was never particularly good at hiding what I was actually thinking. Kota probably did assume I was tired. What could I say? It wouldn’t take long for him to figure out I was troubled over the idea his mother…
Mr. Buble made a motion with his hand, which dragged my attention back to him. “Maybe I could recommend some exercise instead, or another solution? Caffeine can be effective, but for younger, still growing minds, it could be harmful. If it’s at all possible, you might want to avoid it for another few years.” He said this so calmly, like giving us the time to consider if we really wanted the coffee or not.
“Oh,” I said.
“We don’t have it that much,” Kota said. He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Starbuck’s mocha Frappuccino, ones they’d kept in the fridge for me. While the flavor was fine, I’d learned it wasn’t the same as getting it from the actual coffee shop and I only drank it on occasion.
Mr. Buble seemed puzzled. “If that’s the case”—he looked at me expectantly—“can I put you off for a little while? It works best when you’ve reached a point of not being able to keep yourself awake, not when your body is waking up. See how you feel after you’ve gotten to stretch your body a bit or go outside in the sun. If you’re still tired, then drink some.” He stood up, presenting a hand to Kota to take the bottle.
Kota checked in with me. I nodded. He passed it to him.
Mr. Buble took the bottle and put it back into the fridge. “Let’s use chemistry to our advantage.”
The others looked at me and then shrugged. It was strange how he did it. It wasn’t a lecture. He wasn’t telling us off. He wasn’t saying he was the adult and we should listen to him. It wasn’t what I was expecting from an adult. It was very… Academy of him.
Maybe the others were used to this from Academy people, but this was new to me. To be shown and guided as to what to do and offering wisdom and assistance, not just telling someone what to do.
“As it is,” Mr. Buble said, turning around, “it’ll probably be better, in the long run, to keep to simple tasks today and get to bed early tonight,” he said. He held up a hand, starting with a pointer finger out. “From what I see, I think we should start with a few basics.” He waggled the finger a bit, indicating the number. “One, steady shelter. While I understand coming here, I feel there are too many issues at current to remain in this house. Yes, the Academy keeps track of Mr. Griffin and his whereabouts, but this is his home and he’ll be back. The simpler solution is actually not to stay here. For the sake of everyone on your team, I feel it best we start the process of getting ready to move everyone out.”
Everyone? Including Nathan? The other guys looked at each other, blinking. We talked about it before, but no one really knew where to start. Where would we go?
“Two,” he said, holding up a second finger. “Volto is a problem and top priority. I must insist on full security at all times. No one goes anywhere alone.”
“We’ve had that protocol,” Kota said. “He’s gotten help when we stick together.”
“Last time he got Sang… and I was right next to her,” Nathan muttered, crossing his arms and slouching in his chair.
“I understand,” Mr. Buble said, lowering his counting fingers. “However, stalkers, as I feel this is partially the case, are reactionary. When there’s heightened activity, they have an advantage. We’ll need to do the opposite. Everyone should be at home or places that are predictable.” He motioned to everyone. “Boring either draws them out to us or they lose interest and disappear. Either way, we want this to end safely.”
“I feel like boring is what he wanted,” Kota said. “Everything has been so we wouldn’t get in the way of something he wanted. A distraction.”
“As it’s likely school-related, we need to focus on getting away from it as soon as possible. We were reluctant to allow anyone to pick up this job as it was because it technically crosses the line of what the law should handle,” Mr. Buble said. “This was a direct request to handle it quietly to recover lost funds without getting caught up in lawyers and investigations, in a school that already has suffered from years of neglect. It has not been handled quietly, and we now have had major threats to our personal security and too much interest drawn onto the Academy itself. If it wouldn’t draw even more attention, it should be that everyone abandons the job completely.”
“If the money gets found before the police get involved, we still have a chance to do what we set out to do,” Kota said.
“And you’ll earn those favors you’ve worked so hard for,” Mr. Buble said. “So let’s prevent spending any more favors in the meantime. Let’s find a new place to live, and let’s pick up routines that would have most people sleepy to watch day after day. That’s the current solution to our two main problems.” He crossed the dining area back to the table and picked up his own plate. He reached over to pick mine up, which had been half-eaten by me. “Are you finished? Shall we clean up?”
I was finished, so I stood and picked up cups.
Still, I couldn’t get what he said out of my mind. Was the team on the verge of losing the job they had spent months on?
Because of me?
It felt like they’d risked a lot to keep me safe.
“If they’re moving out, we’ll still need to figure out camping out here until it’s settled,” Kota said. “I know it’s Sunday, but some of the shops are open. We should evaluate what we have and what we’ll need.”
“That’s a good place to start,” Mr. Buble said. “It’d be wise to alert the rest of the team of what is happening. Is there a meeting scheduled soon?”
Kota shook his head. “I’ve been holding off for Dr. Green and Mr. Blackbourne to be available.”
“If we’re too busy and scattered, you’ll have to make primary decisions with who is available and filter the information through to them. We may not be able to wait.” He went on to begin washing the dishes, scraping the leftover bits into the disposal.
The rest of us helped to tidy up the kitchen, but it was clear from everyone else’s expressions that we were all suddenly overwhelmed.
A new place to live.
This manager.
The job that they were on the verge of losing completely.
He was right though. We did need to live somewhere else. The way we lived now only enticed Volto to us. We were also at risk all the time just living here. Why didn’t we see it before? Were we really too close
to the situation to see it?
How much more were we not able to see, that we could fix? He made it sound so simple.
Tempo Giusto
(In strict time)
Sang
After breakfast, those who weren’t dressed changed clothes. Victor put on a pair of what I thought might be Luke’s jeans and a plain white T-shirt. The jeans were a little long for him, given he was a few inches shorter, but the overall ensemble seemed to put him in a slightly better mood. It wasn’t often that Victor wore such casual clothes. Despite the situation with Mr. Buble, he smiled a bit more.
Did just changing clothes make him feel better? I hoped so.
“When should we expect to move?” Kota asked Mr. Buble as we followed him and Victor out to the town car he had parked in the driveway.
Mr. Buble smoothed down the black tie he wore and adjusted the pin that kept it together with his shirt. The transformation was from the casual Mr. Buble making breakfast for us, to the astute and meticulous Mr. Buble. Only slight differences really, but it made an impact. “Are we not ready to be on the move when needed? In this case, there is plenty of time to get everything and not have to return. We should be ready to move when housing is secured.” He turned to me. “That includes anything you find valuable to you at your old home.”
My parents’ house? I didn’t think I needed anything over there. Or did he just want me to be sure because I wouldn’t be back? I wasn’t sure what was left to take with me.
“Now,” he said, motioning to Victor. “I’d like for you to join me. We need to get acquainted and we can talk about housing options.”
“Just me?” Victor asked.
“For now,” he said. He turned to Kota. “If you’ll get started taking that inventory and making lists of items we’ll need to bring along. And let the others know that we’ll need a family meeting.”