“Please, sir, I really need to leave. It won’t take long.” Abby wiped her face again.
Derick arrived, and the thin robot scanned him. Carol followed behind, talking despite the run. “You know we aren’t going to be able to leave. This place is like a prison. Don’t take that the wrong way—I mean, it’s an amazing
educational
prison with fantastic opportunities. It’s just that we can’t—”
“Oh,” the guard said. “Looks like that last name of yours comes with some privileges.” The man’s all-business attitude broke a little as he looked at Abby again. “Are you sure you want to leave?”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to check on something,” Abby said.
“You can go, but lunch ends soon and classes will start, so you’d better hurry. If you’re late, they’ll mark you truant and track you through your rings—for your safety, of course. They want to take good care of you.” He motioned with his hands, as the large gate opened. It had to be at least six inches thick and made of heavy metal. Abby walked forward through the open doors. When she heard the gates close behind her, she looked at another set of gates in front of her. The protective system let students out gradually; no one could rush out when the large gates opened. They had to get permission, step through one set of doors, and then another, before they reached the large front gate. Abby could hear the guard’s voice reminding her to hurry.
The third and last set of doors opened, and Abby broke into a run. She raced up the street and turned left at the light. She passed a string of cars in recharging slots. She glanced over her shoulder; Derick followed after her, but not Carol—she wouldn’t have the same privileges as a Cragbridge.
Abby ran with everything she had. Her sprint up the monk mountainside was a jog compared to this. Derick couldn’t keep up. Soon Abby’s legs felt rubbery, and her lungs half their normal size, but she pushed on.
She told herself to stay calm. Everything would be fine. Grandpa fell asleep or got too involved in another project. Mom and Dad would be there, working so hard that they didn’t sync back. She was getting all worked up over nothing. Abby consciously lengthened her stride, trying to get a few more inches with each step.
No matter what she told herself, Abby didn’t believe it. She felt like her heart had fallen into her stomach.
Abby reached the front porch of the 1997 rambler. She waved at the sensor, then waited for the security system to let her in. After what seemed like ages, the little green light shone, and she twisted the handle.
“
Grandpa!
” she shouted, entering the living room. “
Dad!
” There was no answer. “
Mom!
” She repeated the calls as she ran from room to room.
She passed Derick, who was calling out their names as well.
“
Grandpa!
” Abby repeated. Tears cascaded down her face and onto her shirt.
After racing out of the kitchen, Abby met up with Derick again in the middle of the living room. She swiveled her head in different directions, hoping to see her parents or her grandfather—hoping to feel the relief of finding out that they were okay.
“Grandpa’s lab was open,” Derick said. “And that massive door we aren’t allowed through—where Grandpa, Mom, and Dad work—isn’t locked anymore. And there are the scrapes on the walls. Someone was here and they took something out. I’m checking satellite pics.” Derick turned on his rings.
“What for?” Abby asked, wiping her face.
“To see who came in,” Derick said. “The satellites can show you any public place at any time, unless someone has sued for private air space.”
“Someone ... here?” Abby muttered. “Why would they?” Her mind skipped from one thought to another. She began pacing in a daze, walking to move, to do ... something. Was this really happening? Her family was all fine yesterday. How could everything have changed so quickly?
Abby looked at her grandfather’s chair. He should be sitting in it now. Where was he? She turned away and walked down the hall. The house felt so distant, empty. She walked through the open door into her grandpa’s bedroom. She had seen the room before. There was the same bed, same side table, same closet, but no Grandpa. She opened the foldout closet doors. She hoped he would be behind them waiting to surprise her. She even parted several groups of shirts, hoping to find him. She headed toward the bedroom door.
But before stepping out into the hall, she paused. Something was out of the ordinary. Grandpa’s bed was made. Abby had heard her mother pester him over and over again to make his bed. When they visited, she would say things like, “You can make the world’s most innovative inventions, but you can’t make your own bed?”
Grandpa always replied with something like, “Why make a bed when you’re just going to have to mess it up again in a few hours? I used to do it when Emma was alive, but that was just because I loved her and wanted to please her. I’d rather do things that matter.”
So what did it mean? That Grandpa had started to make his bed all of a sudden? Or was someone trying to cover something up?
Curiously, Abby lifted the covers. Underneath was Grandpa’s electronic reader. Why would that be in his bed? This was getting stranger all the time. She’d never seen him actually read from his e-reader. He always said he preferred “real books.” She opened the reader. An array of book
titles was available. She scanned through his reading history, which had a short list of titles. The latest book had been opened at 2:24 a.m. that morning—the only time the book had been selected, and the reading session had lasted less than a second.
The book was
Kidnapped
by Robert Louis Stevenson.
Abby gasped. This was definitely a message. Grandpa had selected this book, early this morning, for a reason. He’d hidden it in his bed, then made it, because he knew that those who loved him would know he didn’t make his bed, and they’d find the clue.
Abby wanted to collapse to the floor.
“There’s nothing visible on the satellite pics,” Derick said from the living room. “All of the lights within a block went out for four hours. Whoever came here made sure nobody would see them.”
Abby quickly raised her rings and selected communications mode. Moments later, she stared into the office of the nearest police force.
“Hello. BPD,” a woman with a short haircut and high cheekbones said.
“I think ... something’s happened to my ...” Abby broke up with emotion. “My grandpa and my parents. I think they were kidnapped.”
11
Investigation
There was definitely someone here,” the officer said. “And at your parents’ house too. But the people who did this were professionals—could be the best I’ve ever seen. They must have disabled the security systems and then restarted them. I’ve never seen that happen.”
His words didn’t exactly console Abby.
“We believe they accosted your grandfather here, but that he was apparently awake enough to send you the message that he’d been kidnapped. The suspects stole something large from the basement. Nothing that we can tell is missing from your home other than your parents. I still don’t understand why anyone would do this to the Cragbridges.” The officer stopped for a moment to direct one of the other three officers as he placed a few hairs he found on the floor in a thin black container. “Does your family have any enemies that you know of?”
Abby looked at Derick. “Not that we know,” she said. She took a deep breath. “But Grandpa did tell us that he had a secret that some people would do anything to get.”
Derick’s eyes flashed with panic.
“Really? What sort of secret?” The police officer’s thick eyebrows stood in stark contrast to his light skin, but his eyes were intense, penetrating.
“We don’t know. Just some secret.”
“And how do you know?” the officer asked.
Abby looked at Derick, who motioned for her to keep her lips shut. But she couldn’t. Speaking up may help them find their grandpa and parents.
She took a deep breath and grabbed the chain around her neck. Derick stepped forward to stop her, but she already had the locket out. She explained what had happened with the locket during lunch.
“This is interesting,” the officer said typing a few notes with his fingers. “The locket must be special to you, but we’re going to need it for our investigation.” He held out his hand. “We’ll return it to you as soon as we can.”
Abby removed the chain from her neck and looked at Derick one more time. He closed his eyes. Abby dropped it into the policeman’s hand.
“Thank you,” the policeman said, placing the locket into another black container. He looked at Derick, “Do you have anything that would help the investigation?”
“No,” Derick lied quickly. “We only got one locket between the two of us, and Abby wore it. It’s kind of girly.”
The policeman chuckled. “It is. Well, thank you. You’ve been very helpful. We’ll have another officer escort you back to school.” He looked first Abby and then Derick in the eyes. “We’re going to have to insist that you stay at school. We’ll give instructions to that effect to the guards. Security at Cragbridge is as good as anything we could provide you. So no more unlimited access to come and go. Do you understand?”
“Why?” Derick asked.
“Just in case,” the police officer said.
“In case they come after us?” Abby asked.
“At this point, all we know is that we have a high-profile citizen and his son and daughter-in-law kidnapped. There are crazies out there ... and, well, we don’t know. We just want you to be safe.” There was something about the officer that made Abby feel safe. She was glad he was on the case. She could picture him braving all sorts of dangers to find her parents and grandpa.
The twins turned to leave, when the officer called again. “Oh, Abby and Derick.” They both stopped. “We’re going to keep this case confidential. You won’t see anything about it on the news or the net for a day or two. We want to make sure we know what we’re dealing with first.”
The twins nodded and then followed another officer out of Grandpa’s house. They soon walked the long sidewalk inside Cragbridge Hall.
“Why didn’t you tell them about your locket?” Abby asked.
“He took yours,” Derick said. “I didn’t want to give it up. Grandpa gave them to
us,
not to the police.”
Abby didn’t say anything.
“Why do you think Grandpa had to trigger a device every day to keep our lockets closed?” Derick asked.
“I don’t know,” Abby confessed, wiping her eyes and trying to stand up straight and tall. She wanted to be strong.
“And he gave lockets and rings to other people too?”
“Sounds like it,” Abby said. “Do you think Mom and Dad have them?”
“Maybe,” Derick said, and then looked at the floor. The lockets were a painful reminder that their parents were missing.
“Or maybe other teachers got them too,” Abby suggested.
“I wonder what the big secret is,” Derick said.
Abby had no idea. Why would anyone want to do something to her family? Was it because Grandpa was famous? Would they get a ransom note soon asking for billions of dollars? Or did he do something wrong? Did he actually have enemies? And what about her parents? How were they involved?
Abby couldn’t help but think back to
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
She imagined her grandpa turning into some sort of monster, hunched over, grimy, and decaying. She quickly shook the image from her mind. She was glad she wasn’t sitting in the Chair right now, having her thoughts portrayed on a screen for others to see. She remembered how Ms. Entrese had caught a glimpse of the locket. Had she baited Abby on purpose?
Did her time in the Chair have anything to do with all this?
All Abby wanted to do was cry, but she couldn’t let herself. She also couldn’t let herself simply wait for the police to finish their investigation. There had to be something she could do. She looked at Derrick. “We’ve got to go back to see the message again.”
• • •
Once again, Abby and Derick stood in the Bridge.
Abby tried to clear her mind, to get ready to listen and remember, but emotions kept creeping back. Tears waited to slide down her cheeks. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned on her rings to initiate the sync.
Access Denied.
Abby tried again.
Access Denied.
“What’s taking so long?” Derick asked.
“It won’t let me in,” Abby said. “My access is denied. Give me a minute. I need to figure this out.”
Abby came out of the room and walked straight to the desk where the lab supervisor sat. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it won’t let me into the Bridge.”
“What’s your name?” the lab supervisor asked, a boy with floppy blond hair that hung over his eyes. He must have been in eleventh or twelfth grade.
“Abby Cragbridge.”
The boy in the lab raised an eyebrow.
“I’m his granddaughter,” she said, not waiting for the question.
The boy looked at his screen for several seconds. “Sorry. Your Bridge privilege is temporarily revoked.”
“What? Why?” Abby asked.
“Couldn’t tell you if I wanted to,” the boy said. “All I’ve got here is that the head honchos have suspended your privileges. Did you get caught cheating or ditching?”
“I missed some classes this afternoon, but it was an emergency,” Abby said.
“That could be it,” the boy said. “You might have to straighten things out with the attendance department.” He gave her a half smile. “That’s all the info I have.”
Abby rejoined Derick in the Bridge, who had already synced with his rings. The image of Grandpa was paused and ready to go.
“He said I’m suspended from the Bridge,” Abby said. “And he guessed it was because of missing a few classes.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Derick said. “I logged on while I was waiting for you. Why would they deny you but not me?”
“
Uuuugh
!” was all that came out. “I can’t believe this.”
“We’ll straighten it out later,” Derick said. “Right now, let’s figure out what Grandpa was going to say.”