Chapter 12

Zander looked haggard at the breakfast table the next morning. He’d probably spent the night going through that mess of images in Julie’s baffling cloud account. I needed to think about his welfare as well as his sister’s. After one of Mallard’s bountiful breakfasts, I set Zander down with a computer and one of the smaller mutual funds I’d invested in.

“Turn that into a non-profit foundation,” I told him, pointing at the screen with the dollar signs.

He stared at the screen and then at me in confusion. “This is our grandfather’s trust? You wish to invest it?”

“This is a small part of the trust. I thought this one account might be easily set up as a non-profit. I’ll send you the documents we need to file. Our trust can easily afford to make charitable donations.”

He continued to stare at the screen. “This is over a million dollars.”

“That’s not enough?” I asked innocently.

He turned his big brown eyes back to me with a look of utter shock. “Our trust is large enough to donate a million dollars to charity?”

“Not all at once, of course. We invest this bit and give away whatever we think is best. We’ve only just received the funds, and I really haven’t had time to think about the best uses. I thought you being a financial analyst and all, you could help out a little.”

Now that the initial astonishment was over, he narrowed his eyes, and I could practically see his brain ticking.

“I do not know your laws, but I can learn. How soon did you wish to start making donations?”

“We’ll need a bank account,” I said airily. “Some fancy financial statements. Call it Giving Back or something equally neutral, and I’ll create letterheads and business cards. We can’t make contributions just yet since we don’t have checks, but we can make a few promises, to get started.”

“Will any of these funds actually go to charities?” he asked suspiciously.

I patted his shoulder. The boy was learning quickly. “Yes, very definitely, although we probably need to hold a family meeting to decide which ones. But in the meantime, I need the pretties to flash around.”

“If you go to that park, I want to go with you,” he said grimly, proving he had a quick mind. “And in case you’re interested, this is not one of the best funds to be invested in. I trust the others are in better hands.”

“Not yet, but we’ll get there.” First, I needed to empty an account or two to pay Graham for this house. Then we’d talk about what was left. But I’d given Zander enough to think about for now.

With EG off to school, I had time to run down to my office and send all the necessary information to Zander. Tudor hadn’t been at the breakfast table, but teenagers liked to sleep in. After a while, I heard him rummaging upstairs in the dining room. Mallard—in the interest of protecting the kitchen we’d destroyed in the two days he’d stupidly left us on our own—had left cereal and fruit and various other cold items on the buffet.

Magda hadn’t been at breakfast either. I didn’t even know if she’d come home from whatever she’d been up to, since I didn’t hear her stirring in the room above me.

She made me feel out of place in my own house, and that annoyed me. I couldn’t go up my secret stairs to Graham’s lair without entering her closet. I had to take the public route, where I could be stopped by Mallard or Tudor or anyone else lurking along the way.

I had time to send Zander the documents he needed before one of Graham’s urgent missives dropped across my screen. I wished he wouldn’t do that. It interrupted the thought flow.

The document looked like an AP wire report out of Alexandria VA. The proximity to Jesus World forced me to keep reading, and my insides were grinding by the time I finished.

To heck with my preferred method of furtively checking out the park. It was time to get Julie out, now.

The good Reverend Joshua Arden had been shot by unknown gunmen beneath his own dinosaurs and was hospitalized in critical condition.

My legs weren’t long enough to take the stairs two at a time, but I did my best. Tudor looked startled as he emerged from the dining room just as I rushed by. I heard him picking up speed behind me. I didn’t need him on this next conversation. I turned and gestured him back.

“Help Zander, if you can. He’s going to need someone with him.”

I didn’t stop to explain or argue. I continued up to Graham’s office.

Two of his monitors were flashing scenes of blue uniforms spreading across the muddy park beneath the rusting skeletons of creatures that should never have existed. He’d probably connected to the park’s security system. Another of his monitors tracked the hospital entrance where reporters and their cameramen were gathering. Graham’s ability to take it all in was beyond obsessive and well into autistic territory, but he was functional, most of the time.

“I’m going in to bring Julie home.” I didn’t usually bother telling him what I was doing, but I had a purpose, one he wouldn’t like.

Graham snorted and didn’t turn around. “You ought to fit right in over there, looking like that.”

I glanced down at my denim overalls. “I’m not wearing stockings to go out there in the cold! And I’m not planning on joining the church.”

“You were planning to go out as a contributor,” he pointed out what I hadn’t told him. He must have been eavesdropping, per usual. “In denim?”

Of course not. I had my socialite disguise, although now that I thought about it, it didn’t include good warm pants. I made a note to make a thrift store run later. “That’s irrelevant now. Something bad is going down out there and I mean to find Julie. We haven’t heard from her since Saturday.”

“And the cops won’t let you past the park gates,” he insisted. “You can’t even pass yourself off as one of the students looking like that.”

“Looking like what?” I cried, wanting to smack him upside the head but forcing my temper down. “My sister is there and she must fit in! Where’s the difference?”

The only reason I didn’t box his ears was that he didn’t argue with my desperate need to break into a park swarming with cops and possible murderers. Graham understood, as few others could.

He changed one of the monitors to pan over a gathering crowd of young people. I could see the dilapidated Ferris wheel structure in the background, so I assumed we were still looking at the park. “You’re not exotic enough.”

I really wanted to kick him then. I can be pretty danged exotic if I want. I studied the crowd. The students were wrapped in bulky coats and hats—far from exotic. Judging by their exposed faces, the kids came in a wide variety of colors, mostly on the lighter side, but I certainly wouldn’t call them exotic. “It’s not PC to call people of color exotic anymore,” I informed him.

Graham made a rude snort. “So, what do we call them?”

“By their names?” I suggested. “Your Bigoted Rudeness might prefer foreign or strange or non-American.”

“Your mother is definitely strange but not exotic. You’re strange but more neurotic. The word exotic has its purpose, and I’m not bigoted, just rude. Look at those kids!”

Neurotic. I rolled my eyes but I’d finally realized what he was talking about—and it wasn’t just color. It wasn’t easy to tell beneath the bulky coats, but their height hinted at what Graham had already grasped. Almost all the kids were of above average height. I so wouldn’t fit in.

They were also all good looking, and there didn’t appear to be a single overweight one in the group. If any were skinny, the coats disguised the fact, but after seeing the images of buxom Melissa and Rebecca, I was putting my money on perfection. CAD had chosen perfect-looking young models to represent their campus. I was actually a bit amazed they weren’t all white. There must have been some federal funding involved—call that cynicism or reverse bigotry, but I didn’t hold high opinions of Arden’s followers.

I didn’t see anyone who might be Julie in the crowd.

“So, I won’t go in as a student. I need to go out there alone. I don’t want Zander and Tudor involved.”

Graham opened a monitor on the library where my brothers had their heads bent over their respective computers. “I’ll block news reports. I doubt if they ever look at anything that isn’t on social media, but this isn’t big enough to trend.”

Understanding went both ways. He wasn’t arguing about my need to find my sister, which was alarming in itself. It meant he didn’t have any connections and therefore, no control of the situation. He had nothing except that wire report, and he needed someone in there. That would be me. That’s where the sticking point came in. I needed an adult in place at home.

“If I go in, I need someone to look after EG. She’ll be expecting me here when she comes home, and I don’t know how long it will take me to reach Julie.”

Graham finally turned around and gave me the evil eye. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying? The brat is up here every night trying to break into my equipment as it is. You have money now, hire someone.”

It said something of his knowledge of my family that he didn’t suggest that Magda or my brothers look after a nine-year-old.

“She’s after your cat,” I said, glaring him down. “Her room is so full of cat hair now, I have to take allergy pills to enter it.” I needed allergy pills to come in here, but I was hoping to escape before I started sneezing.

Graham snorted and returned to his monitors. “Huh, that’s probably her goal, keeping you out of her room. Have Patra come over to look after her.”

Really, I needed to shake him. And possibly EG if she really was using the cat to keep me out of her room. “Patra forgets to eat. Patra is so wound up in her career and Sean that she forgets to come home at night. EG is a kid and needs attention.”

“Then send Patra to Jesus World. It will be good for her career.”

Actually, that was a good idea, but not for my current purpose. “She’d be after the story and forget to look for Julie! It’s not as if I’m asking you to bake cookies. I’ll just leave a note to tell EG that you need her help and send her up here when she comes home. Have her look for code in some document, and she’ll be happy for hours.”

“No, Ana,” he said firmly and decisively. “I am not you. I will not become caretaker for your siblings. You have enough money, hire a nanny. And if you’re afraid Magda will take off with the kids, hire an armed guard.”

And there it was, the fear hidden in my subconscious. I’d left EG in Tudor’s care before. The difference now was that Magda was in town, and I trusted Graham more than my own mother.

And this wasn’t just about EG. The fact that Magda had been gone all night and that a man had almost ended up dead clamored warnings. That the man had been overseeing a suspicious organization which harbored dead bodies, embezzlers, and had connections to weapon manufacturers fell into a pattern I’d recognized long ago. The only thing saving her from total condemnation was that the preacher was still alive. Magda’s enemies seldom survived.

“You are truly evil,” I told him, before stomping out.

I met Zander on his way up. He held out his phone to me.

Help was all Julie’s text message said.

Damn.

Julie huddled over a cold cup of coffee in the even colder market coffee shop. Around her, big men in blue uniforms conferred. One of them had the architectural schematics for the park. She wanted to point out where they ought to be looking, but Mr. Gregory, the contractor, was there, explaining the blueprints. She wondered if he knew his bulldozers were burying bodies. Saying anything in front of him might be hazardous to her health.

Now that the police had made it plain that she might be a witness—or worse—she felt as if a big red target had been painted on her back.

“You were seen with Reverend Arden last,” the beefy policeman in a plain suit repeated for the forty-ninth time. “Tell us again what you saw.”

“I was with Lucas last,” she said for the fiftieth time.

“A Lucas we conveniently can’t find,” the man who had introduced himself as a detective insisted. “There were reports of a woman screaming when the shots were fired.”

“I was in my pajamas and climbing into bed,” she said again. She was not a scatterbrain and could repeat herself obsessively if that’s what he required. “I heard screams. I did not recognize the voice of the person I heard screaming. I called 911. The call is right there, on my phone. Why do you not believe me?”

“Anyone could use your phone, and a call means nothing except you were awake when it happened and no one else was.”

“There were people here in the shop when I left.” She gestured at the clerks behind the counter, supposedly filling coffee cups but mostly whispering and staring.

“The shop closed at eleven, right after you left. The shots weren’t fired until almost midnight. What did you do when you heard someone screaming?” He paced in the narrow space between the tiny tables.

“I have told you. I called 911. There are security guards and cameras all over the grounds. There is nothing someone like me could do except keep the door barred and wait for help. What was I supposed to have done?” she cried in anguish, because she wished she had done something.

And because Maryam had not come home.

Was it dangerous to tell the police about Maryam’s absence? About her own cameras? If calling 911 had her interrogated like this, how much worse would it be if they knew about the cameras? And Maryam would hate having her family know she was out all night.

“You have a right to remain silent, Juliana,” an authoritative female voice stated clearly over the noise of the crowd. “You have a right to have your attorney present while they question you. And if you’re not under arrest, you have the right to walk away.”

Frantically Julie searched past the bulk of the detective and his people until she located a small woman surging through the mob of men far larger than she. The newcomer strode confidently and with a striking presence that invaded people’s space until they edged away without even noticing why. She was wearing a warm leopard-print coat with matching hat and boots. Despite her lack of height, the newcomer’s long green eyes narrowed and her full lips tightened into an expression as fierce as a jungle cat’s, making her seem twice her size. A thick black braid hung over her shoulder. . . .

Julie would remember that braid and ferocity anywhere, and her heart soared. She leapt up, prepared to shout Ana in joy and relief, but something in Ana’s expression warned her to stay silent. How amazingly familiar that look seemed! She must have dreamed of it a thousand times, seen it in the images of their mother. That fierceness filled her with a warmth that made her feel safe.

“I am Jessica James, Miss Kruger’s attorney, Detective. . .?” Ana introduced herself and lifted eloquent black eyebrows in question. Her heavily lashed eyes, sharp cheekbones, and slash of dark lipstick gave her the appearance of wealth and sophistication.

Jessica James? Was she wrong about this being Ana? But who else would Zander have sent? This wasn’t their mother by any means.

“Detective Hobbs,” the policeman answered grudgingly. “How did you know where to find your client?”

“Through the magic of cell phonery, Detective. Now that you have harassed Miss Kruger enough to have her story at least a dozen times over, do you have any more relevant questions or is she free to go?”

Julie thought she might faint in relief. Had their mother sent this woman? And if Ana really was an attorney, why did she use another name? There were so many things she needed to say. . . .

The attorney squeezed her arm warningly while the detective spoke.

“I’ll need an address and phone where she can be reached,” he said gruffly, eyeing the lawyer with suspicion.

She promptly pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Her family won’t allow her to stay in this park any longer. They thought this a safe, respectable religious community. To have a young, naïve girl threatened in this manner does not speak well of our country. We give you good day, Detective.”

The imperious attorney turned to Julie. “Where is your coat? We’ll go pack your bags.”

Julie hurried for the nearest exit, clearing a path for her smaller sister. This had to be Ana. She had once dreamed of Ana as a ferocious panther, baring her teeth and growling to keep away evil. She could see now that that had been a child’s fantasy. But this petite person had intimidated a burly policeman with just her attitude. Only Ana could do that.