Eddie swung the umbrella again, and connected in the same spot.
Youkelstein curled up on the floor, and weakly responded, “You will never truly be one of them. First, you’ll be called on to do away with Veronica before she goes to the police, and then you’ll be next. Save yourself.”
He raised the umbrella again, “I said shut your mouth!”
“If you won’t save yourself, at least save Maggie and Jamie. I see the way you look at those kids—you love them.”
Eddie began to swing the umbrella again. This time at Youkelstein’s head. But he stopped in mid thrust.
Youkelstein was right—Edward Peterson wasn’t like them.
Eddie moved across the upstairs of the mansion until he came upon the guard standing stiffly outside Maggie and Jamie’s room.
“I need to talk to them—let me in.”
The guard looked annoyed. “Your orders were to not leave Youkelstein. Where is he?”
Suddenly the guard’s face contorted. His eyes dazed and he staggered a few steps before falling to his knees.
Youkelstein looked at the man he’d just injected with the tip of his “light saber,” having surprised him from behind
“Hurry,” he urged Eddie, noticing the guard beginning to twitch on the floor. He was the one who kicked Youkelstein’s umbrella away outside. Smiley was no longer smiling. In fact, he was in the beginning stages of a deadly stroke.
Eddie pounded on the door. “Open up! Emergency! Guard down—guard down!”
The door flung open and a large man with a semiautomatic weapon stepped forward. With no hesitation, Eddie put a bullet into his head, and he fell like a rock.
Maggie began to scream, but Eddie muffled it with his hand. Jamie’s eyes bulged out of his head, but it seemed to be more excitement than fear.
“We don’t have much time,” Eddie urged. “We need to get out of here.”
Maggie wasn’t going anywhere—not with him. She folded her arms and moved away.
“I messed up, okay? I told your mother I’d keep you safe, Mags, and I plan to keep my promise.”
She gauged him for a long moment, searching for the answer. She appeared to relent, and approached like she was going to give him a hug. But then she threw a punch to his most sensitive of areas. “Don’t ever do that again,” she said.
Eddie bent over in pain, but nodded in agreement.
It turned out that Jamie needed the bigger sales job. He’d grown accustomed to the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Only when his sister threatened his life did he agree to go. But the boy refused to leave his video game behind. He found a white laundry bag in the closet, put the game inside, and slung it over his shoulder.
Eddie led them into the hall. Footsteps were moving in their direction. A shot whistled by them and a vase crashed to the floor.
Eddie returned fire and they could hear the guards fall to the ground. They then followed him through a maze of corridors until they arrived at the grand staircase.
As they stood at the top of the staircase, reality clicked in. The footsteps grew louder behind them. It was the guards on the upstairs level. Below, two more guards aimed their automatic weapons. Word had spread quickly.
They were trapped.
But Maggie had an idea.
“Uncle Eddie, you shouldn’t be trying to protect us. We need to protect you.”
“What are you talking about?” he snapped, as the two upstairs guards moved into their vision. He was the protector.
“Jamie and I are royal blood, remember? They can’t shoot us. We are like …”
“A shield!” Jamie exclaimed.
Jamie handed Youkelstein the bag with the Xbox in it, and hopped on Eddie’s back. Maggie wrapped around his shoulders from the front like they were slow dancing, her legs dangling down.
Youkelstein trailed close behind, as they started down the stairs. “Move back—precious cargo coming through,” Eddie yelled at the downstairs guards.
They didn’t drop their weapons, so Eddie shot at them. He hit one in the arm and his gun fell to the ground. The other, the one Youkelstein had nicknamed the Golden Retriever, put his down voluntarily. Smart puppy.
The guard looked confused, and shouted at the upstairs guards, “Hold your fire! Secure the children without force.”
They reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped into the Great Room. Then eased toward the front entrance. The guards followed slowly. It was a game of chess.
Even if they made it out, the yard was littered with security. Sterling’s personal security, who claimed to be ex-Mossad, Israeli loyalists, but Youkelstein knew that was a fabrication—they were nothing but SS in training.
Maggie again took the role of leadership—she was a natural. “Once we make it outside they can’t do anything. The only thing that could hold Kingston back from winning at this point is a shootout in his front yard.”
“Can’t shoot kids and old people!” Jamie shouted out.
When they reached the front door, Eddie set them down. He began pushing the kids out the door. Shots rang out, and Eddie’s white dress shirt instantly turned red. He had been shot through the chest and slumped to the ground.
Maggie shouted at Youkelstein. “Get down!”
He followed her orders. She then ordered Jamie to stand in front of him. They couldn’t shoot Jamie.
Maggie knelt by Eddie. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine, Maggot, but you need to get out of this house,” he replied, his voice fading.
“Not without you.”
He mustered strength. “I’m ordering you, Maggot—get out of there now!”
“You can’t order me—I’m royal blood.”
“What you are is a royal pain in the ass. Besides, I’m your uncle and that outweighs everything.”
She was only twelve, but wise enough to realize that Eddie wasn’t going to make it out alive. But she still had a chance to get out … if she hurried. The guards were moving closer, their rhythmic footsteps clicking on the floor. Youkelstein could swear they were goose-stepping.
Maggie’s expression turned angry. A fire began simmering in her eyes. She noticed Eddie’s gun on the floor and picked it up.
She could do anything she wanted and the lowly guards couldn’t do anything back. It was intoxicating.
No wonder so many kings and queens had abused their power over the years,
Youkelstein thought.
She pointed the gun at the culprit—Golden Retriever.
“No,” Eddie said with a weak voice.
“Family sticks together, right?” Maggie said, tears streaming down her face. “He shot you, so now I’m going to shoot him back.”
“No,” Eddie said, this time firmer. The red pool on his chest had grown from a puddle to a lake.
Maggie held steady, her stare never leaving Retriever.
“They think because you have a certain blood in you that you’re like them, but you’re not. That stuff doesn’t matter. The person you are is because of how you were raised. You’re mother and father are the two best people I know, and they didn’t raise a killer.”
Maggie held the gun firm. It was like she wasn’t listening. The guards continued to move in, but not as confidently as before.
At the last second, she dropped the gun.
Youkelstein had no such reservations. He picked it up and fired a sizzling bullet through Golden Retriever’s brain—it’s not like he was using it, anyway. Not a bad shot for an elderly man with poor vision and shaky hands, if he said so himself.
The shot bought them a few seconds to make a run for it. Before they did, with one last gasp, Eddie ordered them to stuff his belongings—badge, wallet, handcuffs, and second weapon—into the laundry bag. There was no time for tearful goodbyes.
As they moved out the door another shot rang out. This one pierced Youkelstein’s clavicle and he could feel the bone shatter. But he fought through the pain until he felt the sun on his face.
Once outside, Maggie and Jamie began running toward the front gate, yelling “Help!”
The scene was complete chaos. People pressing up against the gates. Helicopters flying overhead. Youkelstein moved after the kids as fast as he could, but collapsed midway through the yard.
Maggie and Jamie saw him fall. Maggie took Eddie’s gun and began running at one of the heavily armed guards who was moving in on Youkelstein. Jamie followed his sister.
“So did you vote today?”
“Huh?” Flavia spacily responded to her female assistant as they stood in her Rhinebeck gallery.
Before she could answer, a bell signaled the opening of the front door. Flavia sent a paranoid look in its direction, but a stream of sun burst through on a rare, sun-drenched November day, and spotlighted the familiar man.
False alarm.
“Are you okay, Flav?” her assistant asked again.
She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t slept since Veronica Peterson and her group had shown up here yesterday. She could feel the ghosts closing in on her last night with every creak of the old house.
Flavia shook the cobwebs. “I’m sorry. Just a little distracted. No, I plan to go after we close. The polls are open until eight, right?”
The man approached her. It was FedEx Steve. Just like every day, he wore his purple and orange pullover with baseball cap and a happy-to-be-alive smile.
“I almost didn’t recognize you. You’re usually dressed a little more Flav-ulous,” he greeted her, before turning apologetic. “But that’s not to say you still don’t look great.”
She smiled at him. He wasn’t being flirtatious. He was just one of those serial complimenters. She wore a simple fall sweater and jeans, her hair was in a ponytail and she wore little make-up. Obviously, Steve didn’t notice the dark circles under her eyes.
Flavia took the package, and after trading pleasant goodbyes with Steve, she carried it into her office and shut the door. She checked the postal mark—Chappaqua, New York. She removed the mailing tape with a pair of scissors, and opened the box.
The contents of the box consisted of a key that was attached to instructions, along with a neatly typed manuscript titled
My Family Tree—The Last Leaves of Evil. By Ellen Sarowitz-Peterson.
The final item was a portable video player. On it, Ellen had loaded a video in which she methodically explained everything from the beginning, filling in all the blanks.
Ever since her father’s deathbed confession, Flavia had felt as if her identity had been stolen. She had been lost. But suddenly she knew exactly who she was, and where she’d come from. She realized that the ghosts weren’t chasing her—they were protecting her.
And it was clear what she needed to do next. She had to get Ellen’s memoir to Jim Kingston before it was too late.
Veronica had pushed her way to the front gate of the Kingston estate. She doubted her children were inside, but she was sure that Jim Kingston knew their whereabouts. She needed to talk to him.
But as the afternoon grew long, the gates opened and a stretch limo headed out. It stopped just outside the gate and a window electronically rolled down. Veronica strained to look in.
She saw Kingston sitting next to Sterling.
Kingston shouted out a statement to his supporters, who were surrounding the vehicle. A few reporters yelled questions to him, but his only response was a thumbs-up. He flashed his charismatic smile as the limo pulled away.
The obvious reaction would’ve been to follow Kingston, but something told her to stay. Zach read her eyes and agreed.
As if he had a choice.
About an hour later, she appeared prophetic, when the most unbelievable thing happened. The front door opened and two small children ran out, followed by an elderly man.
Maggie and Jamie!
They were shouting, “Help!” at the top of their lungs as they moved toward the front gate. Veronica tried to will them to safety like she was using some Jedi mind trick. But it had the opposite effect.
Youkelstein fell to the ground and the kids stopped and ran to help him. “No!” Veronica shouted out. All that crap she taught them about helping others was coming back to bite her in the ass.
The security guards on the grounds of the estate—the ones with the machine-guns—began to move toward them. And Maggie was pointing a gun at them!
“No Maggie—run! Jamie!”
But as usual, her children didn’t listen to her. And in this case, they did the most horrifying thing imaginable. They ran right at the guards!
Things then changed from scary to weird. Maggie began instructing the guards like she was their superior officer. The guards strangely followed her orders, helping to carry Youkelstein to the front gate.
The children kept getting closer. She wanted to reach through the gates and pull them through. When they arrived at the gate, Maggie ordered the guards to open it. With a little urging from her gun, they obliged. As happy as Veronica was to see her children safe, the sight of Maggie pointing a gun at someone was a frightening image. It was surreal.