BECKETT
What were the chances I would get stuck behind an old lady on this back highway late afternoon on a Saturday? Because I had, and I couldn’t pass her for at least ten miles because of curves and traffic. And now I was officially late.
Sven will be wondering about me.
The gala started at 6:00 pm, and according to my phone, it was 6:20. I was supposed to make it there by 5:30, long before they announced Sage to the attendees. I wanted to be there with her for that.
Before I could see Sage, I still needed time to talk to my father. Then I had to woo Vasterias people who would recognize me. Finally, I needed to reinstate Sage’s trust in me.
All this before we could make our escape. And I was only just pulling in.
The sky had darkened quickly on my ride to the mansion. Storm clouds gathered on the eastern horizon. It made me uneasy. The two worst nights of my life had both taken place during giant storms.
I stopped at the gate and a man in a tuxedo stepped out from the guard house.
“Can I help you?”
He clearly didn’t like the look of the Ego 45. Or maybe he just didn’t like the look of me.
Here began the night full of deceptions.
I pulled off my helmet and put on my most friendly-looking, innocent face. That always fooled the researchers and doctors back when Dad worked at headquarters.
“Hello, sir. Yes, I’m here by invitation of my father, Dr. James Adamson. He’s currently inside at the party. Would you mind letting him know I’m here?”
“Your name?” he said skeptically.
“Beckett Adamson, sir.”
The guard retreated back to the guard house and eyed me through the window while he spoke into his walkie-talkie. I stretched my arms, tried to stay casual and look calm. Jack would be able to hear my heart pumping hard in my chest. This was the first test. Would Dad even give the okay to come in?
The guard emerged. “I’ll need to search your bike. And frisk you.”
“My pleasure.”
I faked a grin and climbed off the motorcycle. I’d expected as much from the gatekeeper.
When the guard was sufficiently sure I carried no paraphernalia, and only after he had taken a fair amount of time to ogle the Ego 45—without me wanting to notice, of course—the gate began to open.
“You’re free to go. Valet will take your motorcycle at the door.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, pulling on my tuxedo coat. But I had no intention of valet parking.
After a mile or so, the road angled sharply to the left, and the trees opened to reveal the front lawn. I pulled onto the grass, hiding my bike in some shrubbery. Later, Jack would drop off the mannequin, her clothes, and a bungee cord here by the bike.
I walked further up the road toward the circle drive and front entrance. The mansion was most stunning at night, with its landscape lighting shining up the sides of the brick and stone façade, creating a haunting look of intrigue.
Hello, old friend. So good to see you again.
Dad and Dr. Dallamore were standing on the steps, watching as I strolled up to the entry.
“Beckett, what a surprise,” Dad said. “Parked on your own, I see?”
I extended my hand. “Father, Dr. Dallamore, I hope you don’t mind me showing up unexpectedly. I’d like to talk with you if I may? I must say, it’s so good to see you both again.”