The Boy Who Knew Everything (14 page)

Lily used her telekinesis to move the rock into her hand for a closer look. Even at point-blank range she couldn't make head or tail of it. “But why bother? What is it supposed to do?”

Smitty used his X-ray vision to scan it. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“I have.” Conrad pulled ten more rocks just like it out of his pocket, scattering them across the table. “At every disaster site we've been to in the last month I've found one.”

Hitting a button, Conrad pulled up a map diagramming exactly where the rocks were found and when.

“The boot was left behind because someone wanted us to find it and know. Whoever has created these rocks has been everywhere we have. Why? Do they simply like to watch, or is it more than that? Are these accidents really accidents?”

The kids hung on Conrad's words.

“The data isn't conclusive, but there is a distinct pattern and it's definitely not random,” Conrad said meaningfully. “What I'm saying is that someone out there is behind these disasters.”

A shiver passed through the room.

“Who could do that?” Violet shrank at the thought.

“Who would do it?” agreed Piper. “And why?”

“Exactly.” Conrad's brain sank its teeth into the matter. “What is the motive? Who has the means? Those are the questions that we are going to find answers to. Next steps—we need to return to the site where Ahmed and Nalen went missing to gather more evidence. I've created a grid and assigned search teams. Each team takes one section.”

Conrad was pointing to the grids when a distant thumping sound caused a hush at the table. Turning their ears, they tracked the direction of the noise. Conrad activated his surveillance program and quickly identified an incoming helicopter heading straight for the McCloud farm. With deft hand movements he manipulated the image. “It's a Nighthawk.”

The next moment the pounding of the blades in the air above them caused the timbers of the barn to quiver.

Myrtle prepared to bolt. “Let's make a run for it.”

“No, wait!” Conrad pointed to the image of the helicopter. “Look!”

Piper squinted at the insignia on the door of the helicopter where Conrad was pointing.

“It's Marine One.” Conrad could see that Piper didn't comprehend the full importance of what he was trying to communicate. “That's the insignia for the President of the United States.”

Now Piper's eyes went wide. “Your father is coming to snatch us, too.”

“In broad daylight with one helicopter? Not likely.”

“So, what then?”

Conrad headed for the door. “We're about to find out.”

*   *   *

The blades of the Nighthawk helicopter swirled dust and dried leaves about the farmyard. Betty came outside, her baking apron smudged with cookie dough, and shielded her face with her hand. The other kids came to Betty's side and Joe emerged from the tractor shed as Marine One landed expertly between the barn and the house. The engine of the helicopter went from a roar to a terrible whine, the blades slowed, and then a marine threw open the door and lowered a set of steps.

All eyes watched the helicopter doorway, waiting. Finally a woman in a beautifully tailored blue skirt and jacket appeared. She stepped carefully down from the helicopter and the marine assisted her on the last step, where she paused to wave at the McClouds as though she were performing at a charity event or arriving at a grand function.

With one hand holding a fashionable hat atop her head and the other gripping her clutch purse, she trotted across the yard until she reached the house.

“So sorry I had to drop in unannounced,” she said to Betty and Joe. “Allow me to introduce myself; I'm Abigail Churchill-Harrington.”

She held out her hand to Betty.

Betty and Joe had, of course, seen the First Lady on television and in the newspapers and so they knew exactly who she was. The only thing they didn't know was what she was doing at their farm, in a helicopter no less. Seeing the confusion in Betty's face, Abigail got right to the point.

“Conrad's full legal name is Conrad Henry William Churchill Harrington III,” she said. “He is my son.”

Betty's mouth flew open and she looked between Conrad and the First Lady.

An extremely awkward pause followed. It was exactly the sort of pause that generally crops up when a person discovers that the child she has been caring for is actually the son of the President of the United States, who, in turn, has been lying about the fact that said child is dead.

*   *   *

It didn't take long for Abigail Churchill-Harrington to be seated comfortably in the parlor, sipping a cup of tea and nibbling on a chewy molasses cookie while a flustered Betty and a speechless Joe sat on the edge of their seats.

“It's such lovely fall weather this time of year.” Abigail smiled, enjoying a second cookie. Despite the most extraordinary nature of her visit, Abigail was more than equipped to engage Betty in the most mundane conversation imaginable. Meanwhile Conrad hung at the back of the room with the other kids and glared at his mother.

“Do you think she's here to snatch us, too?” Piper whispered to him.

“It's not likely,” Conrad whispered back.

“Maybe she's here to negotiate our surrender,” Lily suggested.

“We don't negotiate with terrorists,” Kimber spat.

“Shhh,” Conrad warned. “Listen.”

“Mr. McCloud thinks we'll have our first frost in another week or so,” Betty said politely. “We're awful glad we managed to get the garden up.”

“This is a lovely room. The furniture is really quite unique. You must tell me where you bought it.”

“Mr. McCloud made it hisself. He's real handy with the wood.”

“Well, I am amazed.” Abigail smiled at Joe. “Your work is splendid, Mr. McCloud. Really. The carving is quite intricate.”

Color rose to Joe's cheeks.

“He don't like to brag about it none but he's got a knack for it. I tell him he could sell his carvings if he'd put his mind to it. He gets so attached to 'em, though, he don't never want to let 'em go.”

“Then we are all the sorrier for that, Mr. McCloud. I am quite sure your work would delight many people if they ever had the chance to see it.”

With that, the conversation hit a dead end; neither woman was able to conjure another topic, and Betty, who was never one to not speak her mind, could not contain herself anymore.

“We didn't kidnap him or nothing. Conrad came to us of his own free will. He could'a gone anytime he wanted. And we love Conrad—love him like he's our own flesh and blood. If we'd known, we would'a told you where he was, but we didn't know. He never said nothing about having a ma and pa.” Betty shook her head at the thought. “He needed a home and we gave it to him, is all. He's a good boy, real helpful. He's got a kindness to him, but I don't think many folks know that. They get so caught up with all his smarts they don't see that he's still just a boy and has a heart and soul like any other child.”

Emotion was bubbling in Betty, who did not possess polished manners or the ability to act like nothing whatsoever was odd or extraordinary when there certainly was. “We didn't do nothing wrong,” she finished.

“Please understand,” Abigail said, “the president—I mean, my husband and I know that. We don't think that you are kidnappers.”

Betty breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Well, that's a mercy. If I was sitting in your shoes and my Piper went missing, I'd tear my hair out till she came home to me. Can't imagine how you must feel.”

“Yes, well, he's here and so no harm done.” Abigail shrugged her delicate shoulders as though it was too small a matter to even quibble over. Then, for the first time, she turned her full attention to Conrad and took a good look at him.

“You've grown, Conrad. But of course you still look exactly like your father.” For a moment Abigail's facade vanished and a true mother's caring face emerged. “You were seven when you went away to school. The last time I saw you, you were quite small still.”

Conrad remained absolutely still, watching his mother as if he were studying an alien species for traces of intelligence—or hostility.

“I've missed you,” Abigail said, reaching out to Conrad.

Conrad pulled back. “When?”

Abigail was confused by the question. “I beg your pardon?”

“When, specifically, did you miss me? When I was away at that ‘school,' which wasn't really a school? Did you miss me when Dr. Letitia Hellion was torturing me day after day? Or did you miss me most when I got out and you refused to have me back and I was homeless and alone? Or was it just recently that you missed me, when the McClouds, the only good and decent people I've ever known, showed me how to be a happy person?” Years of neglect and anger shot through Conrad's eyes and into Abigail's face.

Abigail blinked several times. “I wonder,” she said, turning to Betty, “if I might have a word with my son in private?”

Betty, who was deeply uncomfortable with the entire situation, got to her feet like a shot, and Joe was not far behind. Betty shooed the other children out of the room with her, but Conrad grabbed Piper's hand and pulled her down next to him.

“Piper stays. Anything you have to say to me she can hear.”

When the three were left alone, an electrified quietness crackled through the room and Abigail uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. “I don't know what to say.”

“In that case, we have to go.” Conrad looked at his watch. “Piper and I have important things to do.”

“You're just like your father.”

Conrad jumped to his feet. “Don't ever say that. I'm nothing like him.”

“You don't understand. He's changed. He wasn't like this before, or at least he wasn't as bad as this.” Abigail got lost in her thoughts as she considered it. “He frightens me.”

Conrad exchanged glances with Piper.

“He's having these secret meetings all the time. He used to tell me everything; and now he keeps things from me. He hides things, important things—like you.” Abigail walked to the window. “He convinced me that you were dead and it wasn't until recently that I discovered the truth.”

“I'm really not interested,” Conrad said.

“Yeah, me neither,” Piper agreed. “What have you done with our friends? Where've you taken them?”

Abigail looked from Piper to Conrad. “What friends? What are you talking about?”

“The ones you snatched up,” Piper challenged, her eyes flashing.

“But I know nothing about this.” Abigail appeared genuinely confused. “You mean there are other children who have gone missing?”

Conrad noticed his mother's hands were shaking. He believed her when she said that she knew nothing about the disappearance of Ahmed and Nalen, but there was something else she wasn't telling them. Something, Conrad knew, that was important.

“Who else is missing?” he asked pointedly.

“Excuse me?” Abigail appeared flustered.

“You just said that ‘there are other children who have gone missing,' which implies that you know of another child who is missing.”

Abigail adjusted her expression. “Children go missing every day, all over the country. It's most unfortunate, but it simply can't be helped. Accidents happen.”

“Sometimes accidents happen and sometimes they're not accidents at all,” Conrad said. “You chose today to visit me. Why?”

“Conrad, you are my son.”

“A fact that has never particularly troubled you in the past.” Conrad took a step forward, bearing down on Abigail. “What do you want?”

“I should go.” She collected her gloves and purse, smoothing her features into even, sensible lines. “I wanted to see for myself that you are well, and I have. It's time for me to leave.” She walked to the door.

“It's my sister. She's gone missing, hasn't she?”

Abigail froze in her tracks.

“And you came to ask me for help. You think that I can find her.” Conrad was saying it not so much as an accusation but as the pieces of information formed a puzzle in his brain and he caught a glimpse of the entire picture.

Abigail turned around, her face quivering with barely contained fear and suffering.

“Aletha went missing three days ago. Your father doesn't want anyone to know she's gone, he says for national security reasons. Everyone is looking for her but no one can find her. You could, though. I know that you could find her, Conrad.”

The tears coming down Abigail's face were a direct contrast to her outward composure. “I know I've failed you. I did so many things wrong, which was why I swore that with Aletha it would be different.”

Conrad shook his head, looked away, and considered many things before turning back to the woman who was his mother. “Why would you think that I would help you?”

“I don't think you'll do it for me,” Abigail admitted. “You'll do it for her. You are her only hope.”

 

CHAPTER

19

“We need to split up. Piper will come with me to the White House to look for my sister. In the meantime the rest of you will return to the scene and continue the search for Nalen and Ahmed as planned.” Conrad had reconvened the team in the barn away from Abigail as he quickly prepared to depart. “Lily, Jasper, and Myrtle will be on team one; Smitty and Kimber on team two; and Daisy and Violet on the third. We'll meet back here this evening and go over the findings.”

Conrad's news was met with shocked silence. Jasper in particular was shaken that Conrad and Piper wouldn't be joining them.

“But what if we n-n-need you?” Jasper worried.

“You'll have each other; you're a team.” Conrad's attention was on downloading pertinent information from the mainframe onto his DBI.