Kitty scratched her head and watched one more kid exit the building—one more kid who wasn’t her brother. She tapped on the steering wheel impatiently. Every other student in the after-school program was either already gone, jumping into a car, or heading across the parking lot. Except Sam.
Sighing, she shut off the car. She was going to have to go find him. Honestly, how could the kid be so fast when he was running through the house and so amazingly slow to make it out of school? Dropping the key ring into her pocket, Kitty hopped up on the curb. Tulips poked an inch or two of green through the mulch surrounding the sign, Oakmont Upper Elementary. Small footprints took the short cut straight across, but Kitty detoured around the flower bed to the doors. Sometimes being grownup sucked.
“Geez, Sam, come on,” she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around the door handle and pulled. It rattled in the frame but didn’t open. Locked? How was she supposed to go in there and drag him out by his ear if she couldn’t get in?
Maybe it was stuck. She yanked on the door again. Nothing. Kitty couldn’t imagine their mother having the patience to go through this routine three days a week. The door opened underneath her hand, shoving outward, and she stepped back in surprise. A little girl came out, about the same age as her brother. Maybe she was in the same grade? Kitty danced around the girl, sliding a hand between the door and the frame with inches to spare.
“Hey, is Sam Irish in there?” Kitty wedged her shoulder in the opening as a doorstop.
The girl glanced over and shook her head. “Who? Don’t know him.” The last car in the lot—other than Kitty’s—beeped the horn, and the girl headed for it. She called over her shoulder. “You must have the wrong place.”
Only one upper elementary in town. Yanking the door open, Kitty swung through. The hallway stretched out in either direction from the main entrance toward side wings of classrooms. “Sam?” she called. With no little bodies in the way to dampen her voice, it echoed down the tiled corridor. The fluorescent lights had been dimmed by half with the exodus of the inhabitants, but windows lined either side of the atrium, casting plenty of light. The emptiness of it bordered on creepy. A year ago this might have been an invitation to run down the hall; now she only wondered what corner Sam was hiding in.
When Kitty attended elementary school, the after-school programs met in the gym. She might as well start there. She knew for a fact this didn’t happen every time her mother picked up Sam. For one thing, they both came home speaking to each other.
Kitty took a few tentative steps down the hall. Footsteps ticked behind her and she stopped. “Sam?”
One of the newer teachers—at least she didn’t recognize him—came out of a side door into the entrance hall, buttoning his coat. His mouth twisted downward at the sight of her, so she cut him off at the pass. “I’m looking for my little brother. He’s late coming out to the car.”
The man’s face switched from irritation to concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought I escorted everyone out.”
You’d better hope you didn’t. The zing of panic that flashed through Kitty brought back the airport—when she’d thought she’d lost him in the crush from the commuter flight. She’d thought Kevin was in town then. Her mind flew to the jackknife she’d taken out of Sam’s pack; she knew he was in town now. Oh Sam. I should have talked to him, should have warned him. She held it down as much as she could. Freaking out in front of a teacher about estranged uncles who’ve suddenly come to visit wasn’t the best way to prove she was the responsible party of the family. “He’s a dawdler,” Kitty said, flapping a hand nonchalantly. “Probably forgot his coat or something and doubled back.”
“Let’s check the gym.” The teacher drew even with her, on the side away from the parking lot. “I’m sorry about this. I really thought I’d gotten everyone to the doors.”
As Kitty faced him, she had a clear view of the area at the rear of the school. A small lawn stretched down to a street bordering the edge of the school property. On the far side of the street, a low-slung black car marked with heavy rust pulled up under the trees. Two figures sat inside, and then Sam’s blonde head popped up on the other side of it.
Kitty’s pulse began to race and sweat coated her palms. She had two really crappy choices and she didn’t know which was worse—either it was Kevin in that car or some other predator. Because of the synchronicity, she was laying her money on the first. “You know what? I see him. He must have gone out the gym doors after he got his coat, ’cause I see him heading around the back way.” She circled her finger in the air for effect.
“That’s wonderful,” the teacher said, obviously relieved he hadn’t lost anyone. “For future reference, we don’t allow them to exit out the side doors. Perhaps you could go over that rule with him.”
Sam hadn’t left the car under the trees yet, so Kitty had a minute to beat him to the car. She was going to take him home and lock him in his room until he was twenty-six. Then she was going to kick Kevin Irish’s ass back to whatever hole he’d climbed out of. Maybe in the reverse order. Kitty nodded. “Sure. We will absolutely be discussing the rules.” Sam began to walk across the street. Oh, he was in trouble. Big trouble.
The teacher raised a hand, herding her back toward the exit. “I’m so glad we got this straightened out.”
“Me too.” Kitty pushed the bar on the door and let herself out. The first flood of panic simmered down, cooking itself into good old-fashioned anger. Opening the car door, she jumped into her seat and jammed the keys in the ignition. Sam ambled around the corner of the school. All of his attention was focused on something in his hand, and he hadn’t noticed either the empty parking lot or her yet. Kitty clamped her lips down tight. She’d get his attention all right.
The black car flashed by, and Kitty followed it in the rear-view mirror. Dark hair and dark sunglasses were all the details she caught before it pulled away. Her eyes traveled back to Sam. He stumbled off the curb, still too engrossed in whatever he held to notice what his feet were doing.
Kitty needed to play this right. If she went off on Sam now, she’d lose her chance for information.
He opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, slinging his backpack into the floor well. His smile was a hundred watts bright as he held out his hand. “Check out this rock from the old gravel quarry.”
A rock. Kevin took him rock hunting? Sam beamed at her, and his happiness was so palpable and intense the fury at her little brother melted. This was what he should have looked like at home, what he should have been doing with their father. Her anger resurfaced, flowing in an altogether different—but not new—direction.
Kitty’s hand tightened down on the steering wheel. Play it calm. Information, remember.
“Let me see that thing, dude.” She squinted at his hand as he extended it. Brown, lumpy and roughly spherical, the rock looked like a petrified potato. Not like something amazing weirdo werewolf uncles used to buy affection. Then again, what she knew about rocks could be written on a grain of rice. Ditto what she knew about weirdo werewolf uncles. She searched for a word. “It’s…it’s really great.”
Sam knew she was faking it and rolled his eyes. “It’s probably a geode.” His tone implied she should understand the seriousness of the situation. “I’m going to crack it at home. There should be some good crystals inside.”
Gliders and baseballs and rocks. Kevin knew Sam and his favorites already. Kitty was going to have to work hard to get out in front of him. She turned the key. “Just make sure you don’t bash your hand with the hammer.” That one was easy. Turn concern over Kevin into concern over busted fingers.
“Please.” Sam looked affronted. “I have a lot of experience with these types of things.” He flipped around on his knees and dug in the pocket on the back of the seat, bringing out a leather-bound case. Their mother had given him a dissecting kit a couple years back—she’d pulled out all the really sharp equipment and hidden it—so he could work on his geology with real tools. He about-faced and extracted a dental pick.
“Buckle up,” Kitty reminded him as she rolled toward the street entrance. The young teacher who helped her went by, waving as he passed. Kitty pulled out behind him. “So, what’s happening? Anything new?” That sounded kind of stupid. She knew there was plenty new. For starters, there was the rock. All the rest of the gifts were either upstairs or tucked away in his backpack. Then there was the man who had given him the gifts. C’mon, Sam, spill the beans. Hanging out with any extra-hairy strange men claiming to be your uncle?
“Not really,” Sam answered. He was working on his potato geode at the moment, picking at a crack in the surface with the pick.
Kitty bit the inside of her mouth in frustration. Playing dumb older sister wasn’t one of her favorite roles, but was usually good for worming information out of her little brother. “Any new kids at school lately? We’ve got one in the high school.” Equally lame. Uncle Kevin wasn’t going to masquerade as an upper elementary student, and they sure wouldn’t let him drive one of the buses. He’d never pass the background check.
Sam set down his pick. “Kit, what do you want?”
He was on to her? All this time he knew she’d been pumping him for info? That sucked. She could have gone straight to the heart of it.
“Well,” she started slowly, drawing out the word. “For starters, I know you weren’t in the after-school program today. The quarry isn’t on their list of places to visit.”
“No, I never go.” Sam didn’t hesitate. “Mom filled out the papers for it. I just didn’t turn them in.”
Neither the answer nor the honesty was quite what she’d expected. Somehow she’d truly believed he was in the program, only skipping a lot. The fact that he’d never even turned the admission forms in suggested he wasn’t quite as innocent as she liked to believe. “Why would you do that?”
Sam shrugged. “I didn’t want to be in after-school anyway. It’s stupid. Junk that girls like—learn to bake a cupcake or be in a play. No geology, no baseball. I don’t want to do that stuff. I just didn’t want to be home.”
Ouch. Her father’s behavior toward Sam had been bad, but she hadn’t thought it was unforgivable. In Kitty’s mind, Sam still hovered at the age where a parent’s transgressions were forgiven with the next hug. At some point, he’d gotten to the point of storing and cataloging and holding grudges. “Dad’s having a hard time. He’ll come around.”
Sam stared out the window for long seconds before answering. “I waited almost a year for him to come home. How come I always have to be the one who has to wait?”
Kitty’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Her chest ached. She cleaned and cooked and ran Sam around; somehow she figured it was enough. Her mom and dad were supposed to handle the other end of things, but poor Sam fell through the cracks. Unfortunately, Kevin waited to catch him. She wanted to hug Sam but she was driving and he would slug her if she tried. “I saw the new stuff upstairs in your room when I was looking for your permission slip. Where are you getting all that stuff?”
“My allowance.”
Sam was playing her for a sucker. She knew darn well what his allowance was, and it wasn’t covering the bills for all the new things in his room. He’d let her know he was on to her; she’d go ahead and return the favor. “I saw the black car.”
Sam’s voice dropped, low and conspiratorial. “Did you know we have an uncle?”
She wanted to thump him on the head; he was ignoring everything he’d been taught. She hoped her voice stayed calm. “Sam, you can’t hang out with somebody just because he says he’s related to us. You know about stranger danger and all that stuff.” Kitty considered pulling off the road but instead lightened up the pressure on the accelerator. The speedometer dropped five miles an hour.
“But he is related to us,” Sam insisted. “He’s got pictures and everything. Pictures of Dad when he was little. Even pictures of you and me. They’re taken from a long way away and blurry, but there we are.”
Pictures of us. Kitty’s stomach tightened. She’d played outside on a thousand different days without once considering somebody was watching her. Phinney had said Kevin had never come home, would never come home. He’d been wrong on both accounts.
“He tells the same stories as Dad. Only in his stories there are two kids, not just one.”
Kitty cringed inwardly. She didn’t want to rewrite the story of her life to leave Sam out. That part must have nearly killed her father. “Why did he say he left? Don’t you think Dad has a reason not to tell us about him?” Kitty pulled her foot up a notch and lost another two miles an hour.
“He said he and Dad got in a big fight. I can see why. If he was around all the time, I’d like him way better than Dad.”
The pain in her chest sharpened. Didn’t her father get what all his snapping and standoffishness was doing to Sam? He’d be rewriting his story again to edit out Sam if she couldn’t fix this. “You need to stop seeing him, you know that.”
“Uncle Kevin said you’d say that.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, stubborn as always.
Anger thrummed. Uncle Kevin said I’d say that? He doesn’t know jack about me, but he’s about to. “Just for a few days, okay? Until I get this straightened out and figure out everybody’s stories, let me pick you up from school.”