Mr. And Miss Anonymous (21 page)

Charlie flipped the bacon in the pan as he listened intently. “Go on, Josh.”

“I kept running and hiding, then I went back to the school. I thought I would be safe there until I could figure out what to do. But that guy with the gun showed up, pretending to be an FBI agent. I crawled up into the ductwork when those people that were here last night showed up. Again. That guy started shooting at me through the ceiling. Then he shot out their tires and got away. I was leaving and it was dark and the lady was lost inside the building. I helped her to the kitchen, then I ran. That’s how I ended up here.

“Mr. Dickey was always nice to me and to all the other guys. He was as much a friend as he was a teacher. He tried to tell us what it was like in the outside world. My bad luck was he didn’t tell me enough. I don’t know what to do. Tom has been helping me, but he’s dead and he only knows what I know.”

Charlie whirled around. “I thought you said Tom was dead. How can he help you if he’s dead?”

“He talks to me. I know how strange that sounds, and you probably don’t believe me, but he’s my lookout. He warns me of danger, and so far he’s been pretty good. Each time I manage to get away, he watches my back. You don’t believe me, do you? That’s okay. When he first started to talk to me, I thought I was going nuts. We made this book. We don’t know what it means, but we have it, and I’ll turn it over to the right people. The only thing is, I don’t know who the right people are. What should I do, Charlie?”

“I need to think about all this, Josh. Eat your breakfast,” Charlie said, setting a plateful of golden-yellow scrambled eggs and toast, along with a mound of bacon and hot coffee in front of the boy.

Between bites and sips, Josh said, “I don’t understand why there hasn’t been more in the papers and on television about all my friends getting killed. Weren’t we important enough? Or is it because we’re artificial?”

Charlie was tempted to hit the brandy bottle sitting on the counter.
The kid talks to dead people who help him. He’s artificial, and he doesn’t trust anyone. He’s sitting here in my kitchen asking me for help.
Charlie thought about his ditzy sister, Anna, who claimed she talked to her dead husband every night. A dead husband who talked back to her. Maybe it was possible. Or maybe it was a fantasy that enabled both Anna and this boy to block out the horrible losses they couldn’t cope with. Okay, he wasn’t going to touch that one just yet. “What makes you artificial, Josh?”

“Tom, Sheila, and I think we were test tube babies. No parents. We had numbers, then someone gave us names. Look,” Josh said, kicking off one of his slippers. “See that number on my big toe? I’m 8446. Tom was 8211. I forget what Sheila’s number was. Everybody had a number on their big toe.” He kicked off his other slipper and wiggled his left toe. The number 2003 was clearly visible. “I don’t know what they mean, but they must be important. They’re tattoos. That’s what’s in the book—all the numbers. Tom and I used to go around after lights-out with a flashlight and copy all the numbers off everyone’s toes. We even wrote down the names the different schools gave everyone. We got them all,” he said proudly, “but it took us forever to do it because we had to be so sneaky.”

A lump the size of a golf ball settled in Charlie’s throat as he stared at Josh’s wiggling toes.

Josh finished the last of the eggs on his plate. “Do you have a family, Charlie? What’s it like having a family?”

Charlie’s head was reeling. Maybe it was better to talk about himself and think about everything the boy had said later. “Yes. But not in the true sense of the word. Not the kind of family you see on television shows. I was in the navy, and that made me an absentee father. I have two sons who live on the East Coast and six grandchildren. I haven’t seen them in over ten years. You see, I was always away, out to sea or at a distant port. My wife raised our sons pretty much by herself, and my sons never quite forgave me for not being around for their ball games, birthday parties, and graduations. We’re polite to each other, and they call once a month or so. They send pictures. What that means, Josh, is we’re not a close-knit family.”

“That’s very sad. I want a family someday. So did Tom and Sheila. Nobody ever kissed us or tucked us in. We never got hugs. We used to practice with each other so we’d know what it would feel like. When I’m eighteen, I can do whatever I want. Mr. Dickey said so. I think that’s why they killed all my friends. We were all almost eighteen. Everyone was going to leave.

“You should go to see your family, Charlie. Maybe you can say you’re sorry and take some flowers. Miss Carmody said when you give someone flowers, it always makes them smile, and then they’re happy. You should try that, Charlie.”

Charlie’s mind continued to buzz. “I did try that, but it was such a strain I knew they wanted me to leave, so I did. The grandkids didn’t like me. In all fairness to them, I was a stranger, so I understand their feelings.”

“Why? You’re nice. Do you still have a wife?”

“No. She died a long time ago. My sons told me she didn’t want me at her funeral, so I didn’t go. I did go to the cemetery after everyone left. I sat there and cried for hours.”

“Do you still go there to visit her?”

“Yes, Josh, I do.”

“I want to be able to go and visit Tom, Sheila, and all my friends. Mr. Dickey and Miss Carmody, too. But they aren’t buried yet. Do you know why that is, Charlie? I think it’s important to go to the morgue to get the numbers off their toes. You know, to match them up to the ones in the book. We put their initials next to their numbers but someone could turn around and say we made it up.”

“I don’t know why they haven’t been buried, son. I can go on the Internet to try and find out. Would you like me to do that?”

“Sure. I tried, but there isn’t anything there. You know what else, Charlie? No one is talking about all the other kids and what happened to
them.
Where did over ninety kids go? And why did they leave right before the shooting? Tom said they sent them away to one of the other schools. There are three or four more, you know. We just don’t know where they are. Plus, plus, Charlie, all the files, records, and computers disappeared from school a few days before the shooting. We were working strictly with paper and pencils for those days. Mr. Dickey was very upset and worried. I could tell. So was Miss Carmody.

“Did you think about anything to help me, Charlie?”

“No, not yet. I’m going to go out to get one of those TracFones where they can’t trace where the calls come from. The Target store isn’t that far from here. You’ll be safe here if you keep the doors locked. Promise me you aren’t going to cut and run.”

“I’ll promise if you promise not to turn me in,” Josh said smartly.

“It’s a deal,” Charlie said, holding out his hand for Josh to shake.

I
t was six thirty when Tessie settled her bulk into her chair at the
Chronicle.
She looked up to see her boss approaching her office.

“Nice to see you, Tess. I was starting to think you wandered off the reservation. The last time I looked you were on salary, but no one has been sitting in your office. And, need I remind you that you’re the only one who actually has an office at this paper besides me? An office with a window.”

Harry Newton was a big guy with a mess of snow-white hair that was too long to be fashionable. Topping the scales at 240, he was never creased or pressed, and there were always ink stains on his shirt and hands. He had the shrewdest eyes in the business and the best nose for news of anyone Tessie had ever come across. She liked him, but more important, she respected him.

“Harry, Harry, Harry! I’m working on my third Pulitzer. I am also in love… Well, that might not be quite accurate but I am smitten with one of the opposite sex. Now, what do you want?”

“We need to talk, Tess. In my office.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, now.”

Tessie followed her boss back to his stinky, cluttered office. She saw the remains of a bagel and a banana skin sitting on his desk. Both were probably two or three days old. She flopped down and glared at Harry Newton. “What?”

“What the hell are you mixed up in this time, Tess?”

Tessie leaned forward, her hands clutching the edges of the cluttered desk. “Okay, you asked me, and I’m going to tell you,” she said, holding his gaze. “But before I spill my guts I want you to know that if you even think about putting a lid on me, I’m outta here, and I’m heading to New York to take the old Gray Lady up on her latest offer. You still want to hear what I’m working on?”

“Spit it out, Tess.”

She did. When she finally wound down she watched as every emotion in the book rippled across her boss’s face.

“You shitting me about Pete Kelly, Tess?”

“No. And, the little lady ain’t no small potatoes either. I have a tiger by the tail, Harry.”

Harry Newton’s guts rumbled. He knew Tess Dancer, and he knew she never said anything unless she could back it up with two or three sources. He also knew she’d do just what she said she’d do—head off for New York in the blink of an eye. He continued to stare at her until she leaned back in the chair.

“Who got to you, Harry? Why didn’t we run with that shooting at the academy?”

“Nobody got to me, and I damn well resent your question and the implication. The owner of this fine paper invited me to his home and told me in the interests of national security I wouldn’t be printing anything other than what I was told to print. I quit on the spot, then some other very important people came to see me when I was cleaning out my desk and told me to just sit tight for a little while. If this will make you feel any better, I made the rounds and talked to the
Register, Tribune,
and
Gazette
and they all had the same visitors. We agreed among ourselves to give them two weeks. Time’s almost up. Before you can ask, the television channels got the same treatment.”

Tessie closed her mouth, which had been hanging open. “You frigging buckled! You!”

There was such disgust in Tessie’s voice, Harry Newton cringed. If there had been a rock handy, he would have tried to slither under it. “Yeah, me! I never said I liked it. I figured, like all the others, I could live with the two weeks. How much more time do you need?”

“A few more days. Maybe four, possibly five. This goes all the way to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Just so you know, Harry.”

Harry reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Rolaids. He dumped a handful in his hand and popped the pile in his mouth. He washed them all down with cold, scummy coffee that was probably as old as the bagel and banana skin. “Feed it to me as you get it. We clear on that, Tess?”

Tess chewed on her lower lip. When she didn’t respond, Harry swiped his arm across his messy desk to make his point. Everything flew in different directions. “What? You’re saying you don’t trust me?” His bellow of outrage could be heard a block away.

“You said it, I didn’t. I was thinking it, though. Okay. But…and this is a big
but,
Harry, just in case those
very important people
come at you again, I’m making a backup file that will go where it’s supposed to go. Are
we
clear on that, Harry?”

“Crystal, Tess. Now, get the hell out of here so I can have my nervous breakdown in peace and quiet.”

The cell phone in Tessie’s jacket pocket chirped. She pulled it out to check to see if she had to take the call at that moment or wait. Her heart jumped into her throat when she recognized the symbols that indicated Little Slick was on the phone. The same Little Slick who told her never to call him again and who was going to pretend he didn’t know her. “Yeah. what’s up?”

“No small talk, just listen. The eight-hundred-pound gorilla just flew in on a private jet and is supposedly going straight to the local office. If you leave now, you might be able to catch him off guard. Your call. You know what they say, Tess, keep your friends close, your enemies closer. Be careful.”

“Always,” Tessie replied before she snapped her cell phone shut. Five minutes later she was out of the building and headed toward the office of Senator Hudson Preston.

Zolly rapped smartly on the door to Lily’s villa. “Boss, the guy from Channel 5 News is waiting in the main lobby of the hotel. He said Tessie arranged a three-minute sound bite. You want me to bring him down here, or do you want to go to the lobby?”

“Bring him here, Zolly.”

“I want you to stay inside, Lily. Let’s not give the press any more fodder than they need. Three minutes can be a lifetime in a situation like this. You’re against this interview, aren’t you?”

“Yes and no. The media have a way of twisting things, but you’ll be live, so maybe it will work. What are you going to say?”

“I’m not good at rehearsing, Lily. I’ll just wing it. Trust me, okay?”

Lily looked Pete up and down and laughed. He looked like a beach bum in long pants and high-top Converse sneakers that had seen better days. Pete correctly interpreted Lily’s look and laughter.

“ ‘Always keep ’em off center’ is my motto. Listen, if Tessie calls, interrupt me.”

“No problem. It’s kind of early for a call, though.”

“Tessie Dancer marches to a different drummer. If you don’t believe me, just ask Zolly.”

While Pete waited for Zolly and the reporter, he watched a young woman exit one of the villas with her poodle on a leash. Winston growled, and the woman scooped up the little dog and scurried down the flower-bordered path.

Pete’s mind raced. He’d lied to Lily. He knew exactly what he was going to say the minute he opened his mouth. He hoped more than anything in the world that Josh Baer was someplace where he had access to a television so he could see the short interview. He also hoped the news channel would air the sound bite throughout the day. If only he could be so lucky.

If there was one thing Pete Kelly hated, it was men with hard-hat hair. The reporter, who said his name was Carlson Cook, had so much hair-spray on his hair that gale-force winds wouldn’t have caused a strand to move out of place. They did the manly handshake, even Winston.

“So, Mr. Kelly, to what does the fine state of California owe this visit? Are you buying up something to send Wall Street into a feeding frenzy?”

Pete forced a laugh he didn’t feel. “No. I came out here to a fund-raiser at my alma mater and decided to stay on for a few days. I’m doing a search on something personal.”

“Do you care to share what that might be?” the reporter simpered.

“Well, sure. I’m looking for 8446.”

Whatever the reporter was expecting by way of a response, this wasn’t it. “What’s 8446?”

Pete smiled. “That’s why it’s personal.”

“If you find or locate the mysterious 8446, will it drive Wall Street over the edge?”

“It might,” Pete said with a straight face. “By the way, I’m going to step down and retire to my ranch in Montana.”

“That
is
news! Now I know the market will go off the charts. When will that happen, Mr. Kelly?”

“As soon as I find 8446. I’d like to talk more, but I have a meeting scheduled. Nice meeting and talking with you, Mr. Cook.” Pete offered up his hand, the two men shook hands, then it was Winston’s turn.

Back inside, Pete pressed his ear to the door in time to hear Carlson Cook say, “And there you have it, folks. You heard it here first in this exclusive interview with the founder of PAK Industries, Peter Aaron Kelly, and his companion, Winston.”

“Oh, Pete, that was fantastic. Of all the things I imagined you might say, that never entered my mind. Is Wall Street going to go crazy? I so hope Josh sees the interview. You did good. I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Pete picked up Lily and swung her around until she squealed for mercy. “I love you, Lily Madison.”

“And I love you, Pete Kelly,” Lily whispered. “What do we do now?”

“We wait to hear from Tessie. And Josh, if we’re lucky.”

“It’s coming down to the wire, isn’t it, Pete?”

“Yeah, Lily, I think it is.”

Josh Baer paced Charlie Garrison’s small living room as he waited for Charlie to return. The television was on but he wasn’t paying attention. Instead he called on Tom. “I’m really nervous, Tom. Do you think Charlie can help me?”

“Yeah, I do. You don’t have anything else going for you right now. He’s a grandfather, Josh. He won’t let you down.”

“I hope you’re right. Hey, Tom, look at all the pictures Charlie has of his family. I bet his sons don’t even know he keeps their pictures all over the place. I feel bad for him. I’m going to ask him if he wants to be my grandfather even if I’m a stranger. I’ll tell him more about you and Sheila, and I bet he’ll say he’ll be yours, too. If I can get somebody to put up a tombstone for all you guys, I’m going to ask him if it will be all right to put his name on it as your grandfather. I bet he says
yes
.”

“That would be so great, Josh. Then we wouldn’t be nameless. I never liked being a number. Sheila didn’t like it either.”

“That’s because it’s not right.”

“Josh! Josh! Look at the television. There’s that guy Jesse drew. Listen.”

Josh stood transfixed as he stared at the man speaking intently on the screen. For one wild, crazy minute it looked like the man was talking directly to him.

“Oh, man, did you hear what he just said? He’s looking for you. For 8446. The guy is on television and he’s saying your number. Oh, shit, buddy, is that good or is it bad?”
Tom asked.

“I know who he is, he’s the guy from the library and the academy. He’s looking for me. Why? Is it possible he’s a good guy?” Josh asked in a shaky voice.

“Mr. Dickey told us about him, how he started from nothing and built his company up to the billion-dollar company it is today. He’s famous, and he’s Midas-rich. He looks like you, Josh, just older. What do you think that means? How can he look like you? Do you think he’s got a number, too? Maybe he’s your brother or something since he looks like you. Yeah, yeah, I bet he’s your brother.”

“Dammit, I don’t know. He doesn’t look…evil. Maybe I should call him up.”

Tom laughed.
“Yeah, half the world would love to call up Peter Aaron Kelly. That’s like trying to call the president of the United States.”

“Then why did he say what he did? He’s looking for 8446. That’s me. He looks like me. That has to mean something. Or, was it a warning to let me know he’s coming after me? What do you think, Tom?”

“For a rich guy, he sure did look strange. He looked like Mr. Dickey on Field Day. I agree with you that he seemed to be looking right at you. Maybe he said something in code we’re supposed to figure out.”

Josh snorted. “Code? Get real. Where do you think he is?”

“Someplace only rich people can afford to stay. It looked like there was a Spanish villa behind him. We saw them in a travelogue when we were studying about Spain. Remember? You could call a travel agency and ask them what’s the biggest and most expensive hotel in this area. Or you could go online and not make a phone call.”

Josh was about to head into the bedroom to use Charlie’s computer when Charlie let himself into the apartment carrying a bag that said
TARGET
on the front. Josh started to jabber all at once while he pointed to the television.

“Whoa! Whoa! Slow down, big fella, and start all over.”

Josh took a great, gulping breath and managed to get his story out in one long, breathless sentence.

“Are you telling me the guy who founded PAK Industries is the man you saw on TV and the same man your friend Jesse captured in his drawing? The same guy from the library and the academy?”

“Yeah, Charlie, that’s what I’m telling you. So, is he a good guy or a bad guy? How’d he find out about the number 8446? No one but us kids and the people at the school knew…know about the numbers. I guess that means he’s
one of them
.”

“Slow down, Josh. Let’s think this through. It doesn’t have to mean he’s one of them. He could have come by the number legitimately. Maybe it means something to him, and this was his way of telling you so you would reach out to him.”

Josh started to pace again. “Telling me what? He should have told me how to reach him if he’s a good guy. He said he’s going to retire to Montana. That doesn’t mean anything to me. What do you really think, Charlie?”

“I think we should call his office once we find out where it is. We can call on this TracFone I just bought. First, though, we have to set it all up and charge it. That’s going to take a while. While I do that, go online and find out where Mr. Kelly’s headquarters are. And check out five-star hotels in the vicinity. It’s going to be okay, Josh. I have a good feeling about this.”

“I don’t have a good feeling, Charlie. Neither does Tom. Do you think maybe he’s my older brother, and that’s how he knows about the number?”