“Are you sure? This is pretty serious.”
“I said I’ll take care of it. I’ll deal with it as soon as I get in.”
“Whatever you say.”
Travis hung up and sank back into the chair to think. Tess using the old ID card James had given her was worrisome.
It might be nothing—kids fooling around—or it might mean Tess had finally grown curious. About the accident. About what James had really done at the video game company. Or even about me.
He wondered what file she’d been after.
But he worried even more about Coop.
Cyrus Cooper has access to far too much information. If I’m not careful, Cooper could learn the truth about everything.
CHAPTER 21
I braced myself for more tears. I had no trouble with being Tess’s gofer, but I hadn’t bargained on a waterlogged shoulder before the end of my first day.
“I miss them so much,” Tess cried.
I put my hand on her arm. She shrugged me off.
“It’s not fair!” she wailed.
“Whoa! Wait, your dad says he wants you to help save the world, and you’re whining? I’d kill to have my father even ask me to go have coffee. What the hell’s wrong with you?”
The tears never materialized. She looked through me in that disconcerting way of hers, mouth open in horror, and sniffled.
“I—” she hiccupped, “miss them.”
“Of course you miss them. Nobody should lose her parents at your age. But they’re gone. Get a grip. They’re giving you a chance to do something to honor their memory. If I were you, I’d stop feeling sorry for myself and start living life again. They’re not coming back, Tess. You have to move on.”
“I can’t believe Alice hired you,” she whispered. “You’re horrid. Mean, nasty—”
“Oh, get over yourself. How many people did she interview before she hired me?”
“What? I . . . I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on. Alice doesn’t strike me as the impulsive sort. She’s meticulous, and very careful when it comes to you. I bet she interviewed several people, and you nixed all of them. How many?”
“Five. But I—”
“Save it, Tess. Fact is, I like this job, and I’d like to keep it. I even like you, despite the fact that you almost cry at the drop of a hat. If you want to tell Alice what an awful ogre I am and ask her to fire me, go right ahead. But if you ask me, people around here need to stop coddling you and to start treating you like a normal person.”
“You don’t know the first thing about me, Oliver Moncrief,” she said softly, “so you’re the last person who should be giving me advice.”
That was probably true, but she fell silent long enough that I thought she was taking it anyway, against her better judgment.
“What does it mean?” I said.
“The message? I don’t know!”
“Think! You said you used to do this all the time.”
“Give me a minute, will you? Stop pushing me.”
“Somebody has to—”
“Stop it!” She wrinkled her nose. “He means my camera, okay? Just stop it.”
“Your camera? Sure, that makes sense. Where is it?”
“I don’t remember. Wait, yes I do. I left it at school. Last year. It must be locked up in the photography room, or in Mrs. Robertson’s office.”
“Let’s go get it. I’ll tell Alice where we’re going.”
“We’ve—I’ve got homework, Oliver. Which you need to help me with.”
“What’s more important? Homework, or saving the world?”
“Oh, come on. You can’t believe that note’s serious. It’s a game. Everything was a game to my dad. That’s what he did for a living.”
The thought was as tough as a piece of gristle when I chomped down on it, so I discarded it.
“I’ll tell Alice you forgot a textbook and we need to go back to school to get it.”
“Oliver. Come on. I have to work.”
I headed for the door. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
Closing my ears to more protestations, I left and found Alice in her office. I told her I had to take Tess back to school. She considered me from under knitted brows. When I assured her we’d be back in less than thirty minutes, she okayed the request.
Ten minutes later, I escorted Tess down the deserted corridors of the high school. Eerie silence filled the space, so boisterous and congested only hours before, as if a plague or some deadly predator had emptied the building of life. Tess murmured soft dissent, still grousing that she had homework and we shouldn’t be there. Saving the world wasn’t part of my job description, but I decided I hadn’t been a very productive member of society up until then. I was beginning to think that maybe everything does happen for a reason. Maybe my financial troubles had come at an auspicious time.
The classroom where Mrs. Robertson taught photography was dark, long since abandoned by students and teachers alike. Robertson’s office was locked, too.
“See, I told you we shouldn’t be here,” Tess said. “I can ask her tomorrow. Let’s go.”
“Hang on a minute,” I said.
Upon closer inspection, the door appeared vulnerable. The gap between the door and the frame looked abnormally large, maybe from settling in an earthquake. I thought I might be able to work the latch open with the right tools. In addition to photography, the classroom hosted art classes of all types, including metalwork. A quick search yielded a utility knife and a long, thin strip of rigid steel that suited my purposes. I knelt in front of the door and worked the two pieces of metal against the latch, prying it open a millimeter with one and pinning it with the other.
“Keep an eye out, will you?” I said.
“Ha ha, very funny. What are you doing? Breaking in?”
“Not exactly. We’re retrieving something that belongs to you.”
“But the door’s locked.”
“That’s funny. Apparently it wasn’t latched tightly, since the door’s open now.”
I stood, swung the door wide, and took Tess’s elbow.
“What kind of camera?” I said.
She told me the make and model. A locked cabinet on one wall beckoned as a logical place to keep valuable photography equipment. I wrestled briefly with the moral dilemma of committing a crime—breaking and entering—to achieve a greater good. Tess was right; we could wait until the next day to get the camera. But J. Robertson had pissed me off earlier by being so unfeeling. I stuck the rigid strip of steel into the gap between the cabinet doors and prepared to break them open, then had a better idea. I stepped over to Robertson’s desk. One of the drawers relinquished a small silver key that fit the cabinet lock perfectly.
“Oh, heck,” I said to the open cupboard.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a bunch of cameras in here.”
“Some belong to the school. They’re loaners for students who can’t afford their own.”
“Well, there are three that are the same kind as yours.”
“Bet not. Mine’s digital. The photography class studies film first, so the school’s cameras shoot film. Anyway, mine has my initials etched on the base.”
Sure enough, I found a digital SLR with a small TB engraved on the bottom. “Got it.”
I gave the camera to Tess, locked the cabinet, and replaced the key where I’d found it. After collecting my burglar’s tools, I steered Tess out of the office and closed the door behind us. I dropped off the tools, and we were back at the house ten minutes later.
Back in the library, everything was as we’d left it except someone had cleared the cocoa mugs and plate of sopaipillas. I tried to see what was on the camera, but the batteries were dead. Tess insisted on doing homework before I went looking for replacements, so we spent the next hour and a half going over her assignments. She breezed through her math problems, and I helped her with the French assignment. English and history were reading assignments, wh
ich meant she’d have to listen to CDs later. She’d missed chemistry after lunch. I pulled her assignment off the teacher’s website and walked her through the CHAPTER the class had started.
It was close to dinnertime when we finished. I accompanied her to the kitchen to see if Alice needed me for anything else, and brought the camera along. Tess felt her way to the big island and sat on a stool. I set the camera down on the counter next to her. Rosa stood in her customary spot at the stove. She glanced at us over her shoulder, her gaze resting momentarily on the camera. Alice must have heard us coming. She walked in just as I turned to look for her.
“All finished with homework?” she said.
“Yes, Alice,” Tess said.
She rolled her eyes unconsciously. Though sightless, it had the same effect as if she could see. Alice’s mouth tightened, and she nodded.
“She has reading assignments still,” I said, “but she finished everything else.”
“Good,” Alice said. “Oliver, you’re finished for the day, but you’re welcome to stay for dinner.”
“Thank you. First, though, I wondered if you might have some batteries.”
Alice noticed the camera for the first time. “Where has that been, Tess? I haven’t seen your camera for ages.”
Tess hesitated only a moment, and said, “I thought I’d show Oliver some of my photos, but the batteries are dead.”
“I’m sure I can find some that will work.”
She disappeared into the garage.
Rosa faced us and, without a trace of an accent, said, “I’ll take that camera, thank you.”
Tess looked as surprised as I felt. She felt for the camera on the counter and gathered it in.
“It’s my camera. You can’t have it. What’s gotten into you?”
“Just give it to me, you little bitch!”
Rosa picked up a big kitchen knife and took a step toward the island.
“Whoa, Rosa. What gives?” I took a step toward Tess and put my hands up, palms out.
She couldn’t reach the camera across the island. She would have to come around. I positioned myself behind Tess, watching Rosa to see which way she’d move. The woman had gone loco.
Alice stepped back into the kitchen. She looked at us, then Rosa.
“What’s going on here?”
“Stay out of this, Alice,” Rosa said.
“Put the knife down,” Alice told her.
She advanced warily. Rosa faced her on the balls of her feet with knees bent. The knife in her hand swayed gently back and forth, like a cobra head.
“I’m warning you, Alice. All I want is the camera. No one has to get hurt.”
Alice cocked her head, taking in the shift in Rosa’s character. She’d morphed from friendly immigrant kitchen help to cold-blooded, knife-wielding killer in the blink of an eye.
“What’s going on?” Tess cried.
I moved up behind her and murmured in her ear. “Stand up. We may have to move.”
Alice took another step. Rosa tensed, settling lower into a crouch, ready to spring.
“What on earth are you doing, Rosa?”
“Cut the crap! It’s not ‘Rosa.’ Never was. Now move back before I cut you.”
Alice shrugged and shifted her weight, then moved in like a cat, catching Rosa off guard. Rosa took a swing with the knife, but Alice ducked under it, smashed a palm into Rosa’s nose, and stepped back out of reach. It happened so fast her hands were a blur. Blood trickled from Rosa’s nose down her lip. She swiped at it and inspected the red stain on the back of her hand.
“Oliver, get Tess out of here,” Alice said in a low voice. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Too late!” Rosa said as she made a wholly unpleasant sound more like a hyena’s cackle than a laugh.
Two men dressed in black camo fatigues and face masks burst through the door from the garden, spread apart, and stopped several feet inside. They both carried ugly-looking machine pistols with long sound suppressors and short metal stocks.
“Don’t move!” one of them said.
“What’s happening?” Tess said.
“Shut up!” Rosa barked. “Now, since we seem to have the upper hand here, it’s time you handed over the camera.”
“Two men are pointing guns at you,” I whispered to Tess.
“Guns?” she said. “Fine! You want it, take the camera!”
Tess shoved it hard. It slid across the granite countertop and crashed to the floor on the other side. Rosa bent to pick it up, and all hell broke loose. The little Japanese gardener I’d seen at breakfast suddenly appeared in the doorway behind the two men and flicked his wrist. One of them dropped his weapon and clutched at his throat—a sharp steel shuriken had embedded itself in his neck. Blood spurted between his fingers in a fine spray, dappling Tess’s face. She shrieked. The other man twirled toward his falling partner, saw the gardener, and swung his weapon. With the stock unfolded, the gun was too unwieldy in the confined space. The small Asian stepped inside the gun’s arc, landed three quick blows, and knocked the gun aside.
“Oliver!” Alice snapped. “Get her out of here! Go! Someplace safe! We’ll take care of this.”
I didn’t need to be told three times. Yanking Tess by the collar, I wrapped an arm around her waist and half dragged her toward the garage. As we blew past, Alice had already waded in to block Rosa’s path, ducking under the deadly swing of the knife blade.
CHAPTER 22
Tess shuddered, unable to get the ferrous stench of blood out of her nostrils. Her face was splattered with the sticky substance, and the thought that someone else’s blood had sprayed her like the special effects in a horror flick turned her stomach. She squelched the impulse to vomit and focused on maintaining her balance as Oliver roughly pulled her through the garage. She heard the car door open and felt his hand press against the back of her head, forcing her to duck. She practically fell in. She fumbled with the seatbelt, but before she could latch it the car started with a roar and jerked forward with a squeal of tires on the concrete floor.
“Holy crap!” Oliver shouted. “Another one!”
A loud thump reverberated through the interior, and the car gave a hesitant shiver before accelerating again, pressing Tess into her seat.
“Another one what? Did we just hit something?” Tess gripped the edges of her seat with white-knuckled tension.
“Someone, not something. It’s another one of those guys!”
“What guys, Oliver? What’s going on?”
“Hell if I know! Your cook is a slasher, your gardener has Jackie Chan moves, and your housekeeper . . . My god, Tess, you should have seen Alice. She kicked Rosa’s ass. Like that Bond chick—what’s her name?—Michelle Yeoh. You’re asking me what’s going on?”
She felt the car swaying from side to side, and judging from the engine’s growl, Oliver was pushing the car down the curvy road far faster than the speed limit. She held on.
“What are you talking about?” she said. “What happened in there?”
Nothing made sense, and her stomach grew queasy again from the twists and turns in the road as well as from the thoughts racing through her head.
“Rosa went psycho is what happened.” Oliver said. “Alice should get her money back from whatever firm did the background check on her.”
“But those other men . . . Who were they?”
“No clue. Mercenaries, maybe. Definitely ex-military. Heavily armed.”
“And they were working for, or with, Rosa?”
Oliver briefly described what had happened. Tess fell silent as she tried to work it out.
“This is bad, Oliver,” she said finally. “There’s something on the camera. Rosa’s obviously not who she seems, which means she’s after something my dad was working on.”
“An industrial spy? Gee, and she seemed so nice.”
“Right. No, it might be even worse. My parents tried to keep it from me—to protect me, or whatever—but it wasn’t hard to figure out my
dad’s company did work for the Department of Defense. Maybe this has something to do with it.”
“The DoD? You’re right—that’s worse. They could be terrorists, from a foreign government. Jeez, we’re in deep doo-doo here, Tess. How deep we’ll never know without figuring out what was on the camera. And that’s not likely unless Alice and Yoshi got it back.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Tess said. She dug in her pocket and held up the camera’s memory card.
“How . . . ? When did you pop that out?”
“When you handed it to me at school. I . . .” Her voice faltered. “I wasn’t sure I wanted you to see my photos.”
“Why, Tess? You’re an amazing photographer.”
She turned her head away so he couldn’t see the tears filling her eyes. She bit her lip.
“Oh, yeah. You were an amazing photographer. It’s because you can’t see them, right?”
She didn’t answer.
“Sorry. Stupid thing to say. I know, you’re wondering how on earth I made it through college, let alone got an advanced degree with such a quick wits. Just think ‘Mark Zuckerberg.’”
“Who?” she said.
“Facebook?”
“Oh. Right. No, actually, I was wondering whose blood is all over me.”
“A member of the goon squad.”
“Is he . . . ?”
“Dead? Yeah, I think so. Your gardener got him in the throat with a throwing star.” Oliver paused. “Did you know he and Alice were, like, ninjas or something?”
She shook her head. “No way. Yoshi taught me some jujitsu when I was little. I liked it, so I joined a dojo. But Alice . . . ? This is crazy, Oliver. What are we going to do?”
“Lay low. Hope that Alice and Yoshi kicked ass and will call us when the coast is clear.”
“Where are we going?”
“My place, I guess. I don’t know where else to take you.”
She didn’t respond.
“Are you okay with that?” he said.
“I don’t think we have much choice.”
“Look, I know you don’t have much of a reason to trust me after just one day—”
“And not exactly a stellar day, either.”
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