Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula (9 page)

Detective Conlin gripped Dad’s shoulder, shaking his hand. “Thanks a million, Drake. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Whatever I can do,” Dad answered, glancing at Emery. “Ben, I’d like to introduce you to Serena Phillips’s son before you go in with Bob.”

Ben quickly turned to Emery. With a friendly smile, he lifted his hand to the boy. “Definitely, Drake. Introduce us.”

“Cass, you should say goodbye to Emery,” Dad suggested with a smile.

Frowning at him, I understood by his tone that this wasn’
t
goodbye.

Six

It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen this coming at police headquarters. I knew my dad.

When the phone rang at home, I took the call. The caller asked to speak with “Mr. Jones” in a purposeful manner, and I understood the purpose immediately. Dad never could resist a hard-luck story.

After the phone call, I wrestled with how to view our anticipated guest. Honestly, the thought of having Emery under our roof stressed me out. The guy unnerved me. When he entered our house with suitcase in hand, his face was completely calm as he confidently received introductions. In his shoes, I would have been a basket case; any
normal
fifteen-year-old would be.

Maybe he is and hides it well,
I thought.
I wonder what else hides beneath the surface.
The thought made me shiver, because my gut told me there was more, quite a bit more.

My natural instinct would have been to avoid Emery. Unfortunately, my present circumstances made avoiding impossible. He was my only link to uncovering what had happened to me. Not that I planned on becoming chummy. My plan was to have as little interaction as possible.

In short, I viewed our guest as an opportunity, one that I would keep at arm’s length. Instead of friendly conversation, good old-fashioned eavesdropping became my chosen intelligence-gathering technique.

Mom asked the boys to take Emery upstairs so he could put his suitcase away in Nate’s room. After making her request, she tossed me a reassuring smile. She assumed I felt shy. During intros, I had hung back, leaning against the wall next to Dad’s office while my family gathered around our guests in the foyer. This was my arm’s-length approach. When the boys turned to the stairs, I slipped into the office. Once inside, I realized I hadn’t acknowledged Emery or the CPS caseworker, Miss Carmichael. No one noticed, except Mom, who had graciously let me off the hook.

Hiding out in Dad’s office, I tuned in to the living room. Miss Carmichael wasted no time in getting down to business.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones, I have a few things for you to sign. This is all a formality, because I have no hesitation about leaving Emery in your care. It’s clear you will provide a safe and secure environment for him until a more long-term solution can be found.”

“What do you mean by ‘long-term,’ Miss Carmichael?” Mom asked, concern in her voice.

“Unfortunately, Emery has no immediate or extended family. At this point, we are pursuing a foster situation for him.”

“Detective Conlin mentioned there has been difficulty contacting his father,” Dad said.

Miss Carmichael hesitated. “Yes, that is correct. Oddly, Emery has no contact information.”

“Are the Phillipses estranged?” Mom asked.

I could hear Miss Carmichael squirming in the chair. “Forgive me, but I’m not at liberty to elaborate.”

“This situation you can’t elaborate on—does it put my family at risk?” Mom demanded, her voice rising in alarm.

“Oh, definitely not. I assure you, Mrs. Jones, Professor Phillips’s disappearance is unrelated to the unavailability of her husband. If the police believed Emery was in danger, he would be in their custody. We certainly wouldn’t involve your family if there were a threat.”

“Now, Miss Carmichael, we have the same goal,” Dad said, positioning himself, “and that is to provide a safe environment for Emery. You’re entrusting us to provide this for him, and in order for us to do that, we need to understand the environment he is coming from. Please, give us all relevant information to better help Emery.”

Miss Carmichael cleared her throat. “I respect your point of view, Mr. Jones. When I say I’m not at liberty to disclose information, well, what I mean is I don’t have this information, either.” Her voice dropped. “It’s classified.”

“Emery’s father and his whereabouts are classified? By whom?” Dad asked, his tone curious.

“I’m prohibited from pursuing any more information than I’ve given you . . . Truthfully, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, this is all I know.”

There was a long pause. I pictured Dad rubbing his chin as he often did when intrigued, while Mom frowned at the intrigue. Part of the silence, I knew, was because Mom had become undecided. Dad knew that, too. He was letting her make the decision she was comfortable with.

Confident in my mom’s dislike of fishy situations, and her momma-cat protectiveness over our family, I sang in my head,
Miss Carmichael, you’re going to be looking for another “suitable placement.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor when Mom broke the silence with her decision. “We will trust you, Miss Carmichael, that Emery and our family are not at risk, and please know we will do everything we can to make him comfortable. Please, hand me the pen.”

Once again, my life turned upside-down. The only conclusion I could come to for why Mom wasn’t graciously showing Miss Carmichael and her charge to the door was that her momma-cat instincts were being extended to the boy whose own mother was missing. Under normal circumstances, I would have applauded her; however, under these circumstances, I wanted to shake both my parents and tell them to wake up.

Well, if they’re not watching out for this family, I will,
I decided, slipping out of the office and springing up the stairs before I could be observed by the living room occupants.

~~~

Sitting on the hall floor next to my bedroom door, I tuned in to Nate’s room across the hall. The boys were reading and discussing comic books. Apparently, Emery knew less about superheroes than I did, and my brothers had taken it upon themselves to get him up to speed.

“This is Johnny Storm, and he’s the Human Torch,” Chazz excitedly explained.

“And he’s one of the Fantastic Four?” Emery asked.

“Uh-huh. His sister is Invisible Girl, and Mr. Fantastic is her husband.”

“Does Mr. Fantastic lead this superhero team?”

“Yep. Oh, his best friend is Ben Grimm, The Thing, and he’s the other member of the team.”

“How did they get their powers?”

Nate jumped in. “Cosmic radiation flooded their spaceship, changing their bodies.”

“Forever,” Chazz added.

I could feel Emery smile. “Very interesting, though not plausible.”

Yesterday, I would have agreed with him.

“I don’t get how you’ve never heard of the Fantastic Four,” Nate said. “Even if you’re not into comics, there were the movies.”

“These are the first comics I’ve ever read, and I’ve seen only a few movies.” After a pause, Emery added, “I haven’t spent much time with people my age.”

Nate’s voice was confused. “What do you mean? What about friends at school?”

“I’ve never been to an elementary or secondary school. I was tutored at home.”

“Secondary school is high school, right?” Nate paused. “Do you mean, you’re done with high school?”

“I’ve completed my high school equivalency.”

“When?”

“A few years ago.”

My jaw dropped, as I’m sure Nate’s did.

“No offense, dude, but you’re trippin’ me. You’re, like, my age. Did you go to college or something after that?”

Emery’s voice was hesitant. “I received an undergrad degree from Wallingford last spring.”

“In what?”

“Molecular biology with a genetics emphasis.”

After a pause, Nate laughed. “No offense, Emery, but I have no idea what that is…This is crazy. If you’re done with college, what are you doing now?”

“I’ve been helping my mom in the lab. This coming quarter, I’m continuing my studies at Stanford.” He said this so matter-of-factly, like somehow this was all
so
normal.

“I can’t relate, dude, but Stanford, cool.”

I heard a vibrating sound like an electric razor and the rustling of clothes.

“Sweet, dude. A Droid.”

Lucky,
I couldn’t help but think. I
so
wanted a cell phone.

“Excuse me,” Emery mumbled, absently. “I need to check this text.”

The room fell silent while he picked up the text message.

During this quiet, I mulled over my gathered intelligence, coming to this conclusion: The presence of this geeky-dressing, adult-talking fifteen-year-old college graduate and Droid owner, who had a missing mad-scientist mother, an absent “classified” father, and unnerving self-assurance, most definitely posed some kind of danger.

Who knows? He might even be dangerous himself.

Seven

For the next half hour, I sat outside Nate’s room, bored out of my mind. Now I knew more about superheroes and their many perils than I ever cared to know.

Fifteen minutes earlier, Miss Carmichael had left. In the living room, Mom and Dad continued to discuss the situation. Deciding their conversation deserved to be private, I stayed tuned in to Nate’s room.

The stairs creaked.

Springing to my feet, I moved left to my bedroom door. When Dad reached the top of the stairs, I gave the impression I was coming out of my room.

“Hi, Dad. What’s up?”

“I wanted to see how everyone was getting along. How is Emery?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know. The boys have been shut up in Nate’s room.”

Dad smiled, tapping on Nate’s door. When told to come in, he opened the door. He looked pleased by what he saw. I peeked, too. The boys formed a triangle on the floor, comic books scattered around them.

Stepping into the room, Dad picked up a comic book off the floor. “It’s been a long time since I read
Captain America.
”

“Daddy, come in with us,” Chazz said excitedly, scooting closer to Emery. “Sit next to me.”

“I’d love to.” Dad plopped down next to my beaming brother.

Nate glanced at me in the hall. “Are you coming in or not?”