| |
“Scott? Wake up, Scott,” a voice called faintly from somewhere in the darkness.
I opened my eyes slowly and stared blankly at the source of the voice. The darkness was gone now, but room blurred and spun in front of me. I also had a headache that rivaled the one I’d gotten when Winston hit me.
“Come on, Scott,” the voice spoke again. It sounded suspiciously like Chris.
I moaned and blinked, trying to force my eyes to focus on the figure standing over me. I was lying on the kitchen floor at Dr. Kestler’s house.
“Chris?” I slurred as I sat up shakily. “How’d you get here?
“When you two didn’t show up back at school, Superintendent Hinkly got concerned and called me.” He looked a little relieved to see me awake. “What happened?”
“We blew our cover.” I struggled to climb back into my chair, but my rubbery legs wouldn’t cooperate. Only Chris’s quick reflexes kept me from ending up on the floor again. He helped me take a seat beside Matt, who was still sitting in his chair with a dazed expression on his face. “Dr. Kestler had a file on me that included information about my parents’ true job. Sorry, Chris we messed up somewhere.”
“No, I messed up by not providing you with better back up.” Chris responded dryly, “And you can blame your friend Winston for blowing your cover.”
“Winston!” Matt’s dark eyes flashed. “What does he have to do with this?”
“Superintendent Hinkly overheard Winston bragging about doing some investigating of his own.” Chris spun a chair around and sat in it backwards facing us.
“What does that mean?” Maybe I should have let Matt knock Winston’s block off.
“Winston said that he had been asking Mrs. Gunther questions about you two. Winston didn’t seem to have learned anything, but I guess Mrs. Gunther got suspicious enough to have you investigated.”
“He could have gotten us killed!” Matt pounded his fist in the table.
“Wait, if Mrs. Gunther drugged us, was Dr. Kestler in on it, too?” I glanced around the kitchen and into the hall. The only people I could see were dressed like Chris. “Is she still here?”
“No one is here.” Chris’s voice was soft and his expression was hard and unreadable. “Dr. Kestler’s study has been ransacked and signs of a struggle indicate he was kidnapped.”
I groaned and slumped down in my chair. Now whoever took Dr. Kestler’s weapon had Dr. Kestler as well.
“We believe Mrs. Gunther’s suspicions forced her hand. She drugged you boys to give her time to get Kestler out of the house,” Mr. Jackson said from the kitchen doorway.
Three years at the Academy had trained me well. I stood to attention quickly, but was forced to sit even more quickly as a wave of dizziness hit me. Matt saw my reaction and stood more slowly.
“We found the bottle of sedatives in the cupboard.” Mr. Jackson nodded for Matt to sit and set a pill bottle on the table. “Once you two were out, she carried Kestler off in his car.”
“But why would she kidnap him?” Matt asked. “I though he hired her.”
“We’re not sure yet,” Mr. Jackson replied. “Probably she was paid off by the people behind the McCullys’ deaths.”
“Unfortunately, we still don’t know who they are.” A deadly look crossed Chris’s face and I suddenly was very glad I wasn’t one of the guys who’d crashed my dad’s plane.
“Dr. Kestler’s car? You mean the Model T?” Excitement filled my voice as I looked from Mr. Jackson to Chris. “Matt placed a bug in there this afternoon. Maybe we could...”
“‘We’ are going to do nothing,” Mr. Jackson interrupted.
“What!” I shot to my feet again, tipping my chair over as I did. I grabbed the table to steady myself and blinked away the dizziness. Matt just stared open-mouthed at Mr. Jackson.
“You two are off the case,” Mr. Jackson said firmly. “I should never have let you help in the first place.”
“Mr. Jackson, you can’t do this,” I protested. Not when I was so close!
Mr. Jackson held up his hand. “Let me finish. I should have known better than to get two teens involved in a case of this magnitude. It’s too dangerous; SATURN work needs to be done by trained agents, like Agent Marshall. What if she had used poison?”
“What if she had?” I asked quietly, my green eyes flashing angrily. “No one had any reason to suspect her. If she had used poison, Chris would have been just as dead as we would have been. What could he have done differently?”
“Agent Marshall is trained for this sort of thing,” Mr. Jackson retorted. “He’d have seen the signs and not taken the poison to begin with.”
“You put us on this case because you couldn’t use a regular agent,” I reminded him, fighting to keep my voice even. He was probably right, but admitting that sealed our dismissal from the case. Besides. I was not about to get in a shouting match with the head of SATURN. “How many of your agents could have come as close as we did?”
“A lot of good it did,” Mr. Jackson shot back.
“Can you tell us how many bugs your men were able to place?” Anger flashed in Matt’s eyes as he joined me against Mr. Jackson.
“He does have a point, Alan,” Chris agreed. His tone was respectful, but the same fire lit his eyes that I’d grown familiar with seeing in Matt’s. “We only agreed to use them because we weren’t having much success on our own.”
“Agent Marshall, you can’t seriously be suggesting that was continue to utilize them?” Mr. Jackson gave Chris a look of anger and disbelief.
Before Chris could respond, another SATURN agent entered the room. “Mr. Jackson, sir? I think you need to see this.”
Matt and I scrambled after Mr. Jackson and Chris as they followed the agent out into the hall and up a narrow flight of stairs to a sparsely furnished room at the top. Another agent stood at the door waiting for us.
“This is Mrs. Gunther’s room,” The first agent explained as we entered the room. “We’ve finished the bedroom and are just getting ready to go over the attached bathroom.”
“What have you found so far?” Mr. Jackson asked.
“Plenty,” the agent replied, directing Mr. Jackson to a tall oak dresser to one side. “Take a look at this.”
The dresser drawers had been pulled out and turned upside down on the floor. Mr. Jackson stooped to examine the drawer the agent pointed out. Taped to the bottom was an envelope addressed to Mrs. Gunther. Instead of a return address, a red rattlesnake was drawn in the left corner. The envelope was open.
“The Snake,” Chris whispered hoarsely, his hand drifting to the butt of his gun.
“No wonder the McCullys were targeted.” Mr. Jackson looked back to the agent. “Was there a letter?”
“No, sir.” The agent shook his head. “She probably removed the contents sometime after she hid the envelope here.”
“The Snake’s involvement raises the stakes considerably.” Mr. Jackson stood slowly, his eyes still glued on the envelope.
“If I may, sir.” Chris’s voice was low and his posture tight like a deadly cat. “If the Snake has Eric and Marisa, time is of the essence.”
“Eric and Marisa are dead, Agent Marshall.” Mr. Jackson whirled to face Chris. “The fact that the Snake is behind this should end any further doubts you have. I’ve half a mind to bench you if you can’t get your head on straight.”
Mr. Jackson glanced at Matt and me suddenly, as if he had just realized we were there.
“Agent Marshall,” Mr. Jackson spoke quietly to Chris, never taking his eyes off us. “Escort the boys back to the Academy immediately.”
“But, Mr. Jackson!” I protested. We’d finally found something, something that not only told us who had my parents, but also indicated that they were in very real danger. I couldn’t quit now.
“And tell Superintendent Hinkly to ground them to the campus until I give further orders.”
“You can’t...” Matt stiffened and took a step forward, but was stopped by a warning glare from his brother.
“It’s for your own good.” Mr. Jackson’s voice allowed no arguments. “This is far more dangerous than I first believed. You two are off the case... for good!”