“Hannah? Is she all right?”
I could picture my aunt’s raised, innocent eyebrows.
“I don’t know. She’s missing.”
“Missing!”
“She left her house last night along with her mother. No one has seen her since.”
“They must be on a trip. It’s not like Hannah to just disappear. She’s far too reliable for that.”
“I’m sure. But the sheriff’s department in her area would like her to come in and talk to them about a couple of homicides. It’s been all over the news.”
My aunt
hmph
ed. “I don’t watch much TV. And what in the world would Hannah have to do with a homicide?”
“That’s what the sheriff’s department needs to find out.”
“She certainly wouldn’t be responsible, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“If she talks to the sheriff’s department she can tell them that.”
“Of course.” My aunt paused. “Who’s dead? Someone she knows?”
Vaguely, I heard the policeman’s answer. My eyes had strayed to the closed bedroom door where Mom slept. If she happened to walk through it right now, it was over.
“Tell you the truth,” my aunt said, “I don’t see Hannah very often. We call once in awhile. And send letters at Christmas. But she doesn’t get down here much. Today’s a work day for her. Have you checked there?”
“Yes, I’m sure they have. Let me give you my card. Please call if you hear anything.”
“All right.”
“Before I leave, mind if I check around?”
I grabbed the doorway.
“In my house?”
“Yes.”
“Whatever for?”
“I’d just like to look around, if I may.”
My knuckles went white.
“You seem like a nice young man, but really, I see no need to let you snoop around my house. I’m just a widow, living here by myself.”
“I see.” The policeman’s voice edged. “We can come back with a warrant, you understand. Then you’ll have no choice but to let us in.”
“Is that so.” My aunt put on her most imperious tone. “And on what grounds would you convince a judge to give you a warrant?”
“This is a serious situation, ma’am.”
“Serious or not, I thought the Fresno Police Department had better things to do than threaten old ladies.”
“No threats here. I’m just telling you—”
“Fine then. You just go get a warrant. And when you come back and poke in my closets, I’ll hand you a dust rag so you can clean the shelves!”
The door slammed shut.
I couldn’t move. Trembling, I cocked an ear toward the window. Was the cop leaving?
Seconds ticked by. A car door shut. An engine started.
Aunt Margie’s footsteps approached from the entryway.
She rounded the corner, steps firm and cheeks red. But anxiety shone in her eyes. “You heard?”
I nodded.
“They’ll be back if they can finagle that warrant. On what grounds, I can’t imagine.”
She was right. They probably had no grounds. But what law enforcement had proven trustworthy to this point? “We can’t stay here. We can’t chance it.”
My aunt sighed.
“I’ll have to get Mom up. That won’t be easy.”
“You should leave her here. It’s safer.”
“No, it’s not, if they’re likely to find her. They’ll haul her to Wade. He’ll try to get out of her what she knows. He already sent a man to kill us!”
My aunt gazed at the floor. “You can at least take my car. They’ll be looking for yours. But where will you go?”
There was just one place we could go. Back to the Bay Area, to the heart of danger. Somehow, some way I had to find Ashley Eddington and convince her to listen to me. Because no one else would.
“I have a job to do. We’ve tried to go for help. The police. The FBI. Even Homeland Security. Nothing has worked. Now it’s up to me.”
Even as I spoke the words, I knew they were ridiculous. I was no savior of the world. I was just a widow trying to take care of her failing mother. Trying to protect her daughter.
My aunt raised her chin. “What do you need to do?”
I filled my lungs with air. Someday I would sleep again. “Aunt Margie, if I fail, the electricity will go off at seven o’clock tonight. And will stay off for who knows how long. The terrorists have to be doing it to cause chaos. Violence will follow. Looting, murder. Stay in the house. Keep the doors locked.”
Aunt Margie’s eyes had gone wide. “I thought this was about some homicides.”
I managed a grim smile. “That’s what they want you to think.”
G
et back here.”
Stone’s terse command echoed in Tex’s head as the plane’s wheels left the runway.
He was returning to the Bay Area, all right. Furious and frustrated, and more determined than ever.
How
could he have failed to bring in Emily Shire? She’d make him look stupid and worthless to Stone. That was unforgivable.
She would pay. One way or another, he would get Emily Shire.
And he’d make it up to Stone, whatever it took. The man wouldn’t kill him, even if his twelve hours ended. He was too valuable to FreeNow. Too loyal. Stone had trusted Tex as part of his inner circle.
Tex watched the world fall away. Tonight it would all begin.
He and Bo were ready. They had a generator for the house, had stocked up on food and portable lanterns. While the rest of the city suffered, they would not. He wanted her comfortable, alone at night in the surrounding blackness. He would be on the streets.
She’d wanted to hit the streets with him. He’d told her no. They’d fought about it. She was just as valuable, she said. Just as well trained, maybe more.
At some point their generator and batteries and candles would run out. They were prepared for that as well. They and all FreeNow members could live off the land if they had to. Whatever it took, and however long, as they worked from within to topple the corrupt government. Return America to her once powerful state, where the people ruled and were truly free.
Underneath him, Tex could feel the plane wheels tuck themselves into its underbelly. This short flight would be the last he’d take for a very long time. Maybe forever. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Tried to shove his anger aside. He’d fix this, oh yes, he would.
He would
get
Emily Shire.
A
twangy country song jarred Emily awake. Her eyes popped open, tried to focus. How in the world could she have fallen asleep?
The awful music was coming from Dave’s cell phone.
He picked it up and glanced at the ID. “Must be for you.”
Emily sat up, blinking hard. The number was from her aunt’s house. “Mom?”
“
Don’t
come here. The police have been here looking for us and will be back with a warrant. We have to leave.”
Air kicked out of Emily’s mouth. “Where will you go?”
Her mother told her, the words thin and tight.
“Mom, you can’t do that!”
“What choice do I have?”
The question slammed around in Emily’s head. “I don’t know. But—”
“If I can convince Ashley Eddington to listen, and we find something in that stuffed dog, she and Leringer’s daughter will speak out. They can get to law enforcement who’s not involved in the plot.
I
can’t do that. Neither can you. Since right now it’s all about arresting me.”
“And if she doesn’t listen, she’ll turn you right over to Wade. There has to be another way.”
“Tell it to me. Please.” Her mother had never sounded so old.
Emily gripped the phone. “You can’t go in your car. Everyone’s looking for it.”
“Aunt Margie said I can use hers.”
“Oh, great. So if you’re caught, Aunt Margie will be in trouble too—for helping you escape. Besides, if the police look through her house, they’ll find
your
car.”
Her mother hesitated. “That’s what I told her. But if I stay and they come back, she’s in trouble anyway.”
Emily pressed a hand to her forehead. This was so . . . “Where does Ashley Eddington live?”
“In San Carlos, of all places.”
“San Carlos!”
“I don’t know the street address.”
“So how do you—”
“Aunt Margie’s trying to find out on the computer. If we can’t find it right away, I’ll just have to start driving and trust she
will
find it by the time we get there. Right now I have to get Mom up. Without her having a complete meltdown.”
“You’re taking her with you? No way.”
“I can’t leave her! They’ll find her here for sure. Can you imagine your grandmother being taken away all by herself for questioning? She’d be petrified.”
“But they won’t hurt her. She doesn’t know anything.”
“Emily. An armed man broke into our house in the middle of the night and kicked down her bedroom door.”
Emily’s eyes searched the road. Had the whole world gone crazy?
She saw a sign to turn east for Fresno. Good. Still time to change direction.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll meet you in San Carlos.”
“What? No you won’t!”
“I can help.
I’ll
talk to Ashley. She takes one look at you, with your picture plastered everywhere, and you’re done for. You won’t get one word out.”
“Emily, no.”
“Okay then, what would you like me to do, Mom? I can’t go home. And cops are all over your house.”
“Go home with your friend. The one who’s driving you.”
And take the danger to Dave’s family? Plus leave her mother and Grand in danger on their own? No way.
“Does Aunt Margie have a cell phone?” Emily asked.
“Yes. She’s letting me take it.”
“Give me the number.”
For once her mom didn’t protest. Emily entered the number into Dave’s phone. “Okay. Call me when you’re about there.”
“Emily, I don’t want you to do this.”
“And I don’t want
you
to do this, so we’re even.”
Her mother breathed over the line. “This is insane.”
Yes, it was. But her mother was right—it was also their one chance. And time was ticking. It was already noon. Even if they could find the key to stop the terrorist attack, how long would it take computer geeks to
do
that?
“Listen, Mom, when you find out where Ashley Eddington lives, give me a call.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ve got my computer with built-in Wi-Fi, I’ll find out myself.”
Dave threw her a look.
“Emily, you are too hard-headed.”
“Well, wonder where I got that from.”
“It’s atavistic. You got it from your grandmother.”
“Sure, whatever you say. I’m hanging up now.
Call
me.”
Emily hit the
Off
button and turned to Dave. “Would you mind driving a little bit farther?”
I
opened the door to the room where Mom was sleeping. Even as I entered, I argued with myself. Maybe I should leave her. Maybe she was safer here than with me.
But if I left her, what would happen when the police came? To Mom and to Aunt Margie?
Mom was snoring softly, her mouth open. I inhaled a long breath. This wouldn’t be easy.
I shook her shoulder.
She snored on.
I shook her again, harder. She swallowed a snort and opened unfocused eyes. “Hunh?”
“Mom, it’s me. You need to get up now.”
“Why?” The question swam up from half-sleep.
“We have to go now. The Bad People will find us here if we stay.”
Her eyes blinked. She turned toward me, one hand finding her chest. “Can’t get up. Too tired.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But you have to.”
“No. Later.” Her eyes closed.
I leaned against the bed and gathered myself, then shook her again.
“Leave me alone!”
“Mom, you
have
to get up.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“I’m sorry. Just move to the car, that’s all I ask. You can sleep there.”
“No. Here.”
How long had the police been gone? How long until they ran down a judge and got a warrant? Given the attention the media was giving this case, probably not long.
“Here. Let me help you up.” I slid an arm beneath her shoulders and pushed her to sit up. She rose like a puppet, her face blank. Then her arms came up, offended and waving. “No.” She grabbed my arm in her weak hand, trying to pull me away. “I don’t want to!”
“Shh, Mom, it’s okay.”
“I don’t want to get up!”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You can’t treat me like a child. I want to sleep!”
“I’ll get you some tea before we go, how about that?”
“I don’t want tea, I want you to leave me alone.”
Anger chewed at me. This was so unfair to my mother. Who
were
these men, that they could do this to us?
“Mom, come on now, stand up. You’re almost there.” I nudged her feet toward the floor.
Her jaw locked and her face flushed. Her arms waved more wildly, hands hitting at me. “I’m not getting up!” Her voice rose, panic-hollowed and old. “I’m
not.”
“Stop it.” I chased her jerking hands, caught them by the wrists. “You have to calm down. Look at me, look at me.”
“Nnno!” She squeezed her eyes shut and fought harder.
“Mom, pl—”
“No!”
She opened her mouth wide and screamed. A second time, and a third. I let go of her wrists and stepped back, palms up. She shrieked a fourth time, and fifth, and sixth, until I lost count and my head vibrated. The sound bounced off the walls and slashed my ears, my heart.
What if the neighbors heard?
Tears trickled down my cheeks. Why did she do this to me?
My mother’s eyes opened. She glared at me, fists clutched to her neck and chest heaving.
Aunt Margie scurried into the room. “What—?”
“She won’t let me sleep!” Mom thrust a forefinger toward me. “Tell her to leave me alone!”
“Yes, dear.” Aunt Margie bustled over to the bed. “It’s all right now.”
“Tell her to go away!”
“I’m going, I’m going.” I backed up more. In fact, I considered going all the way to the front door. Walking outside and down the street, letting the policeman find me. I couldn’t do this anymore.
Mom’s face scrunched up, and she started to cry. “Why does she treat me like this?”