He stood away from everyone else, about ten trees down. Immediately drawn to him, I’d walked more than half way there before I noticed Alex had turned and looked at me. What would I say once I reached him? I looked at my feet. He wasn’t Rick. Could he be comforting? I must have looked awfully silly, stopped in mid-stride. I looked back at Alex, who grinned at me. My heart beat wildly and I had to take a deep breath just to get the courage to go further.
“What are you doing?” he called out, laughing and coming toward me. “You should have seen yourself. It was like someone just lassoed you, stopping you in your tracks.”
I pulled my back leg forward so that I didn’t look quite so odd. “I just remembered something and ….” I trailed off, not knowing how to finish.
“Must’ve been pretty important. What was it?” he smiled at me, quick and sweet, as he reached me.
“I guess it wasn’t that important,” I hedged, awestruck by him.
“What were you doing over there all by yourself?” he asked, nodding toward the place I’d been sitting.
Had he been watching me? “I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” Where did that come from? I felt my face flush.
He nodded. “You’ve got me there…I just wanted some time to myself.” He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to give my excuse.
“Me too,” I said. “Things can get a little stifling around here sometimes.” My face burned, and I felt the tingle in my arm again where he’d touched me that morning. I unconsciously scanned the area to see if I could figure out who from the FBI was watching. Perhaps that would make me feel safe.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
“Uh,” I said, trying to figure out a way not to lie. “No, sorry, I’m…”
“Hey,” he said in a low voice. “Do you still have bad dreams about what you saw?”
My shock must have been apparent on my face, because his eyes went a little bigger and he said, “I mean, I do. I can’t seem to get it off my mind, and I only saw it after the fact. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, to have seen the whole thing happen.”
Could someone hear what he was saying? With my breathing shallow and rapid, my mouth felt like sandpaper. I looked all around, trying to pick out possible bad guys.
“Christy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” With gentle, but firm hands, he grabbed my wrists and moved in closer. A mix of emotions pulsed through me, a thrill of excitement from his touch and a horrible anguish that someone listened to us. His gaze probed, with an amazing intensity that I felt all through my body. I felt a radiating warmth spreading from his hands up my arms. I wanted to reach around him and pull him in tight, telling him everything, but a different kind of fear prevented it. I didn’t know if I could trust him with my heart. Closing my eyes, despite desperately wanting to keep them locked on Alex’s, I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, searching my brain for a solution.
“It’s okay,” I said, opening my eyes again. The force of his eyes tingled a spot right at the base of my neck. “I thought we’d decided not to discuss it ever again, is all. It’s so creepy, that I hate thinking about it.”
There, I’d said it and it was the truth. My heart began to really pound as I felt the warmth of his touch continue to spread.
“I’m sorry you’ve been having nightmares, though. I have too,” I confided. I really did feel bad about it. It was my fault he had nightmares after all.
“I won’t bring it up again,” he said, his face apprehensive. “Sorry. One thing, though. Do you think the FBI believed the letter?”
My hands shook and his hold on my arms tightened.
“I’m sure of it,” I said weakly, hardly hearing my own voice. If the terrorists were listening, we were sunk. They now knew for sure I’d seen everything and that we’d told the FBI.
“You’re probably right. I’m surprised the FBI hasn’t contacted us about it, though.” He stared at me, like he wanted more.
All I could do was stare back and nod.
“I really want those murderers to pay for what they did.”
“Me too.”
He looked in the direction of the rest of our group and said, “Looks like we’re about to leave.” He let go of me, his hands falling to his sides. I wondered if he knew how his touch affected me. Did he feel anything when he touched me?
I turned to follow the group when Alex called out to me.
“Hey, what’s this?” He moved in front of me, holding a small piece of paper.
“I don’t know. Where’d you find it?” I asked, reaching for it.
He turned it toward me, grinning, “It fell out of your bag.”
It was a photo of the eight of us, eating breakfast. I gasped, my breath suspended. Iceman. He hadn’t only brushed up against me, he had put that picture there.
“Who took this picture?” His eyes searched my face. I had no idea what to tell him. I just stared, unable to move. Could I tell him I thought Iceman had done it? My fears multiplied, and I didn’t know if I could deal with them alone.
“Christy?”
I needed to slow my racing pulse, and it seemed I had no way out of the situation telling the truth. Could I lie? It would be protecting him. It would be for the “greater good” and surely it wouldn’t be called a lie when I had such justification.
“Someone took it the other day,” I stammered. “I wanted a picture of all of us together.” Both statements were true, but misleading. A feeling of guilt swept over me and my shoulders dropped slightly. I had such conflicting emotions, I wanted to go hide somewhere. I had never outright lied, but now I couldn’t say that anymore. I hadn’t even been in a situation where I needed to lie before. The guilt wrapped around me, threatening to suffocate me.
“Hmm, it’s a pretty good shot. Could I get a copy?” he asked.
“Sure,” I squeaked, still feeling horrible.
Man, it was Sunday, and I had lied, on Sunday. I bet that was worse than lying on any other day.
We headed in the direction of our group, who walked toward the bus. I stayed as far away from the reflecting pool as I could, because I couldn’t bear looking at myself at the moment. Frustration hit me. Why couldn’t I tell him my suspicions? I didn’t have to tell him about meeting with the FBI. I could leave that out. Alex walked beside me, without a sound. I looked at the picture and then turned it over. On the back was written,
We know who you are—all of you.
I panicked and my insides were so twisted up from the lie I had told and the fear I felt from Iceman’s warning, that I reached out and grabbed Alex’s arm.
“Look,” I said. “I didn’t really ask someone to take the picture. Sorry. I lied.” Then I leaned in close to him and whispered, “I’m so afraid that someone is listening and—”
“Hold on. You lied? You didn’t ask someone to take the picture?” He smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Yes. I’m really sorry.”
He chuckled, like I was ridiculous to be sorry.
“Listen,” I said, trying to clue him in on the seriousness of the situation.
“I’m listening.” He covered his mouth with his hand, staring at me, trying to keep a straight face.
“Iceman passed by me a few minutes ago, and I didn’t realize it was him or that he’d put this picture there until you saw it. I mean I felt something touch me when a guy passed by, but I thought it was just his jeans rubbing against me. I think it is a warning of some sort. Here, look at this.” I showed him the back of the picture.
His eyebrows drew together as he read. “I shouldn’t have laughed. I didn’t know. How did they know where we were?”
“Iceman knows where we’re staying,” I said. “I saw him outside the hotel the morning after the murder.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“I never had the chance,” I whispered.
“I don’t get it. Why don’t they just kill us if they know? Why would they s
end a warning like this? It’s weird.”
“I know. I wondered the same thing. They must have a reason to keep us around.” I hoped beyond hope, our discussion hadn’t given them what they needed to decide.
“Hey you two,” Mrs. J yelled. “Hurry up! We’re waiting!”
Just before getting to the bus, Alex grabbed my arm and whispered, “Let’s keep this between you and me for now, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, before climbing on the bus.
I pocketed the picture, my heart thudding furiously and not because of the threat.
We had a secret now, just between the two of us.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Washington National Cathedral made us all feel like little ants once inside. The tour lasted about half an hour, and we learned all about its history. Patterned after the fourteenth century gothic style cathedrals in Europe, with its intricately carved wood and stone, and its detailed and vivid paintings, it tantalized the imagination. How they could build a place like this today let alone in the fourteenth century boggled the mind.
We went up to the observation gallery and looked out at downtown D.C. The beautiful view lifted me. It was so different from what I was used to, especially with the little shops inside it. The lovely gardens took my breath away, but I couldn’t find the peace I wanted so badly.
My thoughts kept turning to finding Jeremy. I had to tell him that the terrorists were not only watching us, but were warning me. Why not the others, too? They must know I’d talked to the FBI. But, if they knew, wouldn’t I be dead? They must at least suspect. Otherwise, why would they be singling me out? Could there be a mole in the FBI, and no information was safe? Then again, maybe they knew because Alex and I told them all they needed to know at the memorial.
The Northeast section of town, where the National Shrine stood, was considered crime-ridden and dangerous, so I hurried inside and stayed close to the tour guide the whole time, hoping to avoid the possibility of witnessing any more crimes. I know, I know, I used to be all about excitement and change, but I wanted it to be the right kind of adventure, not like the ballroom.
The National Shrine, one of the world’s largest churches, hosted a staggering one million visitors a year. Its stained glass windows sparkled beautifully in the light and the enormous building swallowed everything in its path.
I sat in a pew and waited while everyone roamed around the building. It felt nice when Marybeth sat next to me.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Ever since you know what, I don’t like being alone.”
“Me neither.”
We sat in silence for a while, with Marybeth fidgeting and looking at me until I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer and said, “What is it Marybeth?”
“I’m not supposed to tell.”
“Not supposed to tell?” My mind went straight for Kira. Had she said bad things about me and told Marybeth to keep her mouth shut? “You can tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Well…” She stared at me intently.
I was getting more mad at Kira as each second passed, and I didn’t even know if she had anything to do with the secret.
“Look, if it has to do with Kira, just know that—”
Marybeth interrupted me. “It doesn’t have to do with Kira.”
I stared at her. All I could do was wait. I desperately wanted to know the secret, but didn’t want her to break a confidence.
“I’ve got to tell someone,” she finally whispered. “I’m sure they wouldn’t care if I talked to you.”
My heart froze. They? I should’ve told her not to tell me, but I wondered if the terrorists had tricked Marybeth into talking. Then again, she wouldn’t be here if they had. Right?
She leaned in close and whispered right into my ear, “The FBI took me to their office yesterday.” Then she turned and stared at me, eyes wide.
I’m sure my eyes matched hers. Questions ran through my brain at top speed. She seemed fine, excited even, to have talked to them. How did she hold it together? I thought she would be a total wreck after talking to them; all the scary memories surfacing again. But here she was, telling me about it, like it was some juicy gossip. Maybe talking to whoever she had really did diffuse it all or had I misjudged her? Should I confide in her now? That was the real question.
I looked around, assessing the likelihood of a bug that let the terrorists hear us being in the Cathedral. I decided the probability was pretty low even though the FBI seemed to know our every move. She had broken the promise, not me. Surely, I could tell her. It would be wrong not to. It would be like lying to act surprised at her admission, right?
She bumped me with her arm. “Did you hear me? The FBI read the letter and wanted some more information from me, so they picked me up yesterday. It was so cool. The FBI has been watching us, protecting us, since they got the letter. I feel safer now.”
“They took me in, too.” I whispered, feeling lighter. I thought I would feel worse because I had broken my promise, but I guess the load of the secret was a heavier burden to bear than telling it.
“No way. When? How?” Her questions gushed out.
“Shhh! Remember, we aren’t supposed to talk about it.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I just had to tell you, so you would know, and feel safe and all.” She looked ashamed.
“It’s okay. I was dying to tell someone, too. I was just too afraid to tell.”
“I’m glad I told you.” Her smile lit up her face.
“We can talk here, but remember, we shouldn’t bring it up again. They could be listening.” I smiled back.
“Right. But, they know who the bad guys are and they are going to get them. They have a lot of evidence against them.”
“Good.” I wondered if the terrorists were listening. If so, they had their two eye witnesses wrapped up and delivered. I swallowed hard, hoping they weren’t.
I didn’t know what to say after that, and we sat in silence, relieved to know that someone else knew. I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell her about Iceman and the picture. I wondered if any of the others had been taken to the FBI office too or if they only took Marybeth and me because we witnessed the actual beheading. Then I remembered Alex’s question from earlier and wondered if he was trying to find out if they’d contacted me—because they had contacted him.
We hadn’t sat long before we headed for the Spy Museum. Everyone was ready for some excitement after visiting the quiet churches. The two hour tour of the museum flew by. We then did this interactive spy operation, where we got to try some of the things that real spies have done. Spying was kinda cool with the right tools. It seemed exciting and it made me wonder what the good guys and bad guys were using to disguise themselves in order to spy on us. But, if I were in the FBI, I would have had the terrorists in custody already. Why were they still out there?
“That was so cool,” Rick said as we left the Museum.
“I loved it,” Kira said. “What’d you think, Christy?”
She asked me? Wasn’t she mad anymore? Maybe she was just playing nice for Rick.
“So much fun,” I answered. “Best thing we’ve done yet.”
She rolled her eyes at me. I’d gotten my answer.
Dinner satisfied my hunger, but my gut kept telling me I needed to find a way to tell Jeremy about the picture and seeing Iceman. I came to the conclusion, that it would be better to have them involved, especially if the bad guys were clued into the truth. So, I ate as fast as I could, in order to have time to write a quick note for the “college boys” before we went into the rec room.
I scribbled the note in my room about Iceman giving me the photograph. I folded the note around the picture and put it into a box of Whoppers I had in our room. I took about half of the candy out for myself and left the rest in the box, then I all but ran to the rec room. It was empty though, and I sat on the sofa by the TV and thought about all the ways to get the candy box and its important c
ontents to Jeremy.
A little while later, Kira walked in with Rick, followed by Marybeth and Eugene. I loved having Marybeth back to herself again and having someone to confide in. She was a genuinely nice person, which, in my book, made her unfit for politics. I saw Rick scan the room and pause when he saw me. Kira was talking to him, and he kept nodding and taking small steps in my direction while Marybeth and Eugene played foosball.
Josh, Summer, and Alex came rushing in all of a sudden.
“We’re going to play another game,” Summer announced, breathing hard. Everyone watched her walk to the center of the room. We couldn’t help it, she mesmerized us. “It’s called Sardines. Who’s played it before?”
Everyone except Eugene and myself raised their hands. Again, I stood with the idiots in the crowd.
“Good,” she said, looking at all of us. “It’s easy. I’m sure you’ll catch on fast. This is how you play. One person is it and hides somewhere in the hotel. Everyone tries to find the person who is it. When you find him, you smash into him like you were packed in a sardine can and you stay that way until everyone else is smashed in. The last one to get there is it the next game. Everyone understand?”
She stood there shining, a large, expectant grin on her face. I had to resist the urge to clap. I had no idea where she came up with all these games. Maybe they were popular people games or maybe they were just games that took more than two or three people to play. I’d never had more than two to three friends to play with anyway.
“Oh,” she added, “no hiding in the lobby, and we only have forty-five minutes to find whoever is it. It’s 8:05 now, so at 8:50 the first round will be over. Home base will be my room. Let’s go.”
Her room? No. I had to be here when the FBI guys came. I might miss them if I left. I had to get them the message today. It couldn’t wait.
“You comin’?” Rick asked, holding the door open for me.
I almost said no, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I clenched my fists and forced myself to say, “Yeah, I’m comin’.”
“Great,” he said. “Where were you after dinner, by the way? One minute you were eating and the next you were gone.”
Watched (The Watched Series) Page 11