Chase

Thirty-Five

The girl in the pink bikini was stretched out on a lounging chair at the end of the dock when she thought she heard some splashing around her. It wasn’t that clear, because she had earbuds tucked into her ears and was listening to music. She had a book on her lap and was working on a tan. If she hadn’t had the earbuds in her ears, she might have heard the explosion further up the lake, and if she had looked up from her book, she might have seen the smoke in the distance.

But the splashing, that she heard.

She closed the book on her finger so as not to lose her place, and looked up.

Coming out of the water was a man in a suit.

Not a rubber wetsuit, like somebody would wear to swim underwater. Not even a swimsuit. It was an actual suit. Black jacket and black pants with a big tear in them. White shirt and tie. Even a pair of sunglasses, perched haphazardly on his nose.

The man was, of course, completely drenched as he emerged from the water. He did not look very happy. He had a gash in his forehead and was bleeding.

The girl took out her earbuds.

“Uh, you okay, mister?”

He eyed her. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?”

He pointed to the wires that had been dangling from her ears. “Are those hooked up to a phone, or not?”

She reached into her lap and brought a phone out from under the book. She handed it to the man. Standing in the water next to the dock, he took it, disconnected the wire and tossed it back to her.

He entered a series of numbers, put the phone to his ear, and turned away from the girl.

“Madam Director,” he said. “Yes, I’ll hold.”

He stood there several seconds, then said, “It’s Daggert.”

“I’m rather in the middle of something,” Madam Director said.

“This is important. It’s about the boy.”

“You got him? And the animal?”

“No. And no.”

“That’s very disappointing,” said Madam Director.

“The dog was looking for him.”

“Excuse me?”

“The boy. The dog was looking for the boy. The kid’s last name is Conroy.”

A pause at the other end of the line. “Conroy?”

“That’s right.”

“The son of Edwin and Patsy?” Madam Director asked.

“I haven’t confirmed it, but I think so.”

“That’s interesting. That’s very interesting. And it’s also troubling.”

“It is,” Daggert said.

“You’d better get to the bottom of this, hadn’t you, Daggert?” Madam Director said.

“Yes. But I’ve had a setback. And I have to regroup with my people.”

Madam Director snickered.

“What’s so funny?” Daggert asked.

“I am amused,” she said. “That you should have so much more trouble getting rid of the boy than you did his parents.”

“It’ll get done.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt of that,” she said. “If not by you, then by someone more competent.”

“Look, you need to know—”

But Daggert heard a click. Madam Director had ended the call.

Seated behind her desk, she put down the phone, smiled, and said, “I must apologize for that interruption. Let’s get to know one another. Tell me your names again.”

Two children — a boy and a girl — were sitting side by side on Madam Director’s leather couch. Perfectly still, hands folded in their laps. They were no more than seven or eight years old. The boy was dressed in a pair of bright, white running shoes, new blue jeans and a crisp, red, buttoned shirt. His hair was combed neatly to one side. The girl was dressed in similar shoes, pale pink jeans and a white blouse. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

“Let’s start with you,” Madam Director said to the girl. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Peggy,” she said quietly.

“That’s a pretty name. And how about you, young man? What’s your name?”

“My name is Timothy,” he said warily.

“Peggy and Timothy. How nice. What lovely children.” Madam Director smiled. “I’m so happy to have you here.”

“Can we go home soon?” Timothy asked.

“Why are we here?” Peggy asked.

Madam Director waved her hand, dismissing the questions as unimportant. “All in good time. But before I answer any of your questions, I have a very, very important one for both of you.”

The children waited expectantly.

Madam Director got out of her chair and came round from behind her desk. She got down on her knees in front of the children so that their eyes were at a level. She took the boy’s hand in her left hand, and the girl’s in her right and gave each of them a squeeze.

“How would you like it,” she asked, “if you could be the smartest, most clever, most amazing children in all the world?”

Timothy thought about that and said, “I guess that would be okay.”

Peggy wiggled her nose around, pondering. Finally, she said, “It’s good to be smart.”

Madam Director said, “Oh, yes. It’s going to be very, very good.”