Read Hunted Online

Authors: Sophie McKenzie

Hunted (15 page)

Harry looked round at the others. ‘Jack’s my dad, okay, but he and my mum split up ages ago. We hadn’t seen him for years. Mum has no idea he’s been in touch with me.’

‘So?’ I said.

‘My mum’s a scientist. She worked for William Fox,’ Harry went on. ‘And she cares about all of you, especially Dylan . . . She was best friends with her mum. She’ll know what to do with the microchip.’

‘That’s your suggestion?’ I said with contempt. ‘Give me one good reason why we should trust you to take us to your mom when going to your dad ended in—?’

‘Ed?’ Ketty said.

Ed focused on Harry’s eyes. A moment later they glazed over.

A few, long seconds passed, then Ed broke the connection.

‘He’s telling the truth,’ Ed said simply.

I wondered if Ed had seen any reference to me in Harry’s thoughts. But no way was I asking. Instead, I just gave a loud, angry sniff.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Where does Mommy live?’

‘We can’t go to their house,’ Nico said. ‘Jack’s bound to think of looking there.’

This was true. And obvious.

I blushed at not having thought of it.

Harry fished out his phone. ‘I’ll call her,’ he said.

A moment later we had a meeting place and time. The Science and Art of Medicine Gallery at the Science Museum in half an hour.

As we set off, Harry glanced at me again. I looked away. Too many feelings were swirling in my head. I didn’t know what to make of any of them.

All I knew was, we could easily be running from a bad situation to a worse one.

And, once again, we were in Harry’s hands.

 
16: Laura’s secret

Nico peered into the glass case. He pointed to a set of small iron instruments. ‘What on earth are they?’ he said.

‘Doctors used them a few hundred years ago,’ Ed said. He was standing by the plaque next to the case. ‘This museum is fascinating. I haven’t been here for ages. I’d forgotten how good it was.’

Nico rolled his eyes. ‘You are
such
a geek.’

‘Why shouldn’t I be interested in history?’ Ed sounded mildly annoyed.

Nico laughed and said something back, but I wasn’t paying real good attention. I was all focused on the museum gallery doors.

Partly, I was scared that Jack had followed us, though I couldn’t see how he could possibly know where we were.

Mostly, I was consumed with curiosity – and apprehension – waiting for Harry’s mom . . . supposedly my mom’s best friend. Harry himself stood beside me, looking out for her, too.

It wasn’t that crowded in the room – a large school party had just left – and we could see the doors in and out from where we were standing.

I wasn’t just anxious about trusting Harry’s mom with the Medusa code. It was also her connection to me. She had known both my parents well . . . she’d known
me
as a baby . . . I didn’t often meet people who fell into that category.

‘There she is.’ Harry scooted off towards a slim, elegant-looking woman in jeans and a cream shirt with a highlighted blonde ponytail.

Ed, Nico, Ketty and I watched as Harry spoke quietly to his mother. She was clearly angry at him and agitated, glancing over at us as he talked. Her gaze shifted from person to person, finally settling on me. Smiling at last, she motioned to Harry to stop talking and walked away from him, towards us, with her arm outstretched.

‘Dylan?’ she said. ‘Oh my God . . . oh my . . . I’m Laura.’ Her voice cracked as she spoke. To my consternation, her eyes filled with tears.

‘Er . . . hi,’ I said, feeling awkward.

‘I’m sorry.’ Laura brushed away the tears impatiently. ‘It’s just you look so like your mother. Ashley was one of my closest friends. There’s not a day goes past when I don’t think about her. I can’t believe the danger Harry’s just put you in.’

I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

Laura turned to the others. ‘This is overwhelming,’ she said. ‘I worked with William Fox for many years and though he never shared the details of his work on the Medusa gene with me, I understood enough about what he was trying to do to know that the four of you are . . . well, if half of what he predicted worked out, then you’re nothing short of a miracle.’

‘Mum?’ Harry’s face pinked with embarrassment. ‘Maybe we could talk about this all later. It’s just that Jack will try to follow us and we need to do something to—’

‘I think you’ve done enough, Harry,’ Laura said sharply.

‘You said you would help with the microchip,’ Nico ventured.

‘Of course.’ Laura smiled. ‘I will. I’ll do anything to help. Especially you, Dylan. For your mother’s sake. And your dad’s. Will you trust me to do that?’

I looked into her pale blue eyes. They radiated warmth and sincerity. And yet, after my dealings with Harry, there was no way I could take her on trust.

I looked away. ‘Ed needs to check her out,’ I said in a low voice.

‘What, so we assume everyone’s guilty until I prove them innocent?’ Ed shook his head. ‘That’s not right.’

Laura gazed at us bewildered. ‘What—?’

‘Not right, but necessary,’ Nico interrupted. ‘Go on, Ed. You mind-read Harry.’

‘Harry was different. I had to see he wasn’t lying again,’ Ed persisted, his face reddening, ‘but I don’t feel comfortable mind-reading people who haven’t done us any harm and who we don’t have any reason to suspect.’

‘You can really read people’s minds?’ Laura’s eyes widened.

‘We suspect
everyone
,’ I snapped. ‘That’s our baseline.’

I clenched my fists.

‘Normally, I’d agree with Ed,’ Ketty butted in, her voice calm and soothing. ‘But under the circumstances I think Dylan is right and checking that Laura is telling the truth is justified.’ She turned to Laura. ‘We apologise in advance, but Harry brought us to you and—’

‘It’s fine.’ Laura swallowed. She glanced at me, then looked away quickly. ‘I can understand why you want to do this. Go ahead, Ed.’

Reluctantly, Ed met her eyes.

A few seconds later he broke the connection. ‘I didn’t go deep,’ he muttered. ‘But she genuinely wants to help us.’ He turned to me, his voice all smug and vindicated. ‘And she
really
cares about you . . . so there.’

A confusion of emotions swirled inside me. Embarrassment. Irritation at Ed. Relief we could trust Laura. And hope.

I turned to Laura, trying to sound practical and serious.

‘What do you think we should do?’ I said.

‘My car’s parked on a meter, round the corner,’ Laura said. ‘I’m planning on driving to our holiday home in Sussex. It’s very out of the way. I only bought it last year. Jack doesn’t know about it, so it’s completely safe.’

I glanced at Nico and Ketty. I wasn’t quite so convinced that any house was as safe as all that. Various experiences had taught me that determined people with good resources can track you down wherever you are. Still, it took time to do the tracking. And, right now, Laura was our best bet.

‘Going with you seems like the smartest option,’ I said.

The others nodded.

The holiday home was cute. Much prettier than the cottage in the Lake District, with flowers sprawling across the front yard and sleek wooden blinds at every window. It was modern, made from glass and reclaimed wood, and full of state-of-the-art devices such as solar-powered heating and movement sensors to control lighting and water. Ed was transfixed, wandering from room to room completely fascinated. Harry seemed happy to show him round. I sensed he was glad to get away from his mom for a bit. Nico and Ketty disappeared as soon as Laura had offered everyone a drink.

Which left the two of us. Laura had already told everyone she wanted to talk to me privately before examining the contents of the microchip. She hadn’t even asked to see it yet. I kept feeling for it in my pocket, palms breaking into a sweat as I remembered Dr Mims’ fingers on my neck earlier.

We sat down in the small room that clearly served as an office. It was more cluttered than the rest of the house, with a long wall of bookshelves groaning with an amazing variety of fiction and non-fiction. I was scanning the titles when Laura, who’d been making coffee, came in with two steaming mugs.

She set them down on the low table beside the armchair in the corner and motioned me to sit there as she drew up another chair.

I did as she asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

‘I want to reassure you that as far as I’m concerned, the Medusa gene code is yours to use – or destroy – as you wish.’ Laura paused. ‘You have so little of your father’s and, though I’m sure the government who paid for the research would disagree, this is
your
inheritance, Dylan. It doesn’t belong to anyone else.’

Laura’s pale eyes glinted as she spoke. She waited a second, perhaps to see if I was going to say anything, then she cleared her throat. ‘Do you have any questions for me . . . about your parents or . . . or anything else?’

My head was just about spinning off with questions. I hesitated, trying to work out which I wanted to ask first.

‘How did you know them . . . my mom and dad?’ I said.

‘I knew your mum first, of course, then, later, I got a job working as one of your dad’s research assistants. He was . . .’

‘I know,’ I interrupted, not wanting to hear the list of my dad’s failings again. ‘He was a difficult man . . . stubborn, secretive, paranoid . . .’

Laura frowned. ‘Actually, I don’t think he was any of those things until he realised the Medusa gene he’d discovered – and was so proud of – was going to kill the wife he absolutely adored. Well . . .’ she continued, ‘he
was
always rather secretive and very particular about his work, but he had to be. He was working at such a high level. You know he was a genius, don’t you, Dylan?’

I looked away. I’d been told this before and I’d never really known what to make of it.

‘Well, he wasn’t just a genius. He was a passionate man, with a strong sense of justice. And he was a good boss, too. I was very fond of him.’

‘What about Mom? How did you meet her? When? Where?’

Laura’s frown deepened. ‘Did your Aunt Patrice not tell you anything?’

I shook my head. ‘I never heard of you,’ I said. ‘I mean, I didn’t know about Jack before he turned up and no one ever mentioned you – or Harry.’

Laura sighed. ‘I met your mother at university. She was doing a junior year abroad, majoring in drama, and I was in my last year studying biochemistry. Chalk and cheese, we were. Ashley was the life and soul of every party. There was a song out at the time about two friends . . . how one was serious and the other “let the air in”. That was me and her. A couple of years later she was over on a visit and I introduced her to William. He was quite a bit older, of course, but they fell in love like nothing you’ve ever seen. Besotted with each other, they were. Ashley was my best friend. That’s why they made Jack and I your godparents.’

My mouth fell open. I’d known about Jack, but . . . ‘You’re my
godmother
?’

Laura nodded. ‘When Ashley passed away, I begged the courts to let me have you, but she’d died without leaving a will and her sister took precedence. Patrice was married and wealthy and a blood relation. Whereas I . . . well, Jack was flaky, to say the least . . . I was basically a single mum living on a research assistant’s salary. I’d only just got another job after William dying and your mother’s death hit me hard, too. I probably sounded deranged when I kept insisting I could look after you as your mum would have wanted. I think the lawyers thought I was after your money, but I wasn’t. I just wanted what was best for you.’

‘Aunt Patrice was
sooo
the one after my money,’ I said bitterly.

Laura shot me a keen look. ‘She wouldn’t let me see you, Dylan. I tried to visit, I sent presents and photos, but Patrice returned them all. I attempted to take her to court over that as well. I argued you had a right to see me. I was your godmother. But you were in America and the lawyers were very expensive, and when I went out to see you, she actually threatened to call the police if I didn’t leave . . .’ She tailed off, tears in her eyes.

I put my hand on hers. ‘At least we’ve met now,’ I said. ‘Even though it is . . . like this.’

Laura wiped her eyes. ‘I could throttle Harry for putting you through what just happened. Honestly, he—’

‘Jack’s very persuasive,’ I said, suddenly feeling defensive of Harry. ‘And he is Harry’s dad.’

‘I know.’ Laura sighed. ‘He hadn’t been in contact for over three years then, according to Harry, he showed up a week or so ago, promising Harry the earth . . . flashing his money about. I had no idea . . .’

She talked on for a few minutes, describing how, years ago, she’d fallen for Jack herself. Then she rummaged in a cupboard and fished out some pictures. One christening picture – dated the July after I’d been born – struck me in particular. I was wearing a long, white gown. For once, my face wasn’t red-raw with eczema. In fact, I looked cute. Mom was holding me, beaming, with Dad on one side and Jack and Laura on the other. An older baby with a shock of dark hair was wriggling in Jack’s arms. That must be Harry. Behind my dad stood a solemn – and very young-looking – Fergus. He was talking to a heavily pregnant lady with long, dark hair. That had to be Nico’s mom.

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