Eric stabbed his fork into his stack of pancakes and reached for the syrup at the same time. “Describe him for me.”
“I didn’t see him well,” Trixie said apologetically. “It was sunset and there wasn’t much light.” She waved a hand to acknowledge the greeting her uncle called to her from behind the counter. “Morning, Uncle A. Can I get two fried eggs and some bacon? And orange juice?”
“Have it out in a jiff for you, sweetie.”
She smiled her thanks and turned her attention back to the man sitting across from her. “He was wearing pants. Not jeans or sweatpants. Some kind of dark slacks. And he had on a jacket. His hair was dark.”
“Tall? Short?”
“Average, I guess? He wasn’t as tall as Regan.”
“Heavy or thin?”
“Thin. Definitely thin. Actually, in terms of height and build, I’d say he was very similar to Tom Delanoy.”
Eric grunted in response to that as he took another bite of his breakfast. Trixie glanced out the diner’s wide window, noting the steady stream of traffic heading south on Main Street. Commuters, she supposed, on their way to the city for their nine-to-five jobs doing who knew what.
“Tell me about the car.”
“Uh… newer. It had that more rounded look, you know? Not as boxy as the cars from the early 90’s. It was black, with dark windows and four doors.”
“Nothing else? Did you notice any stickers? Dents?”
She shook her head and shrugged at the same time. “It was too far away and there wasn’t enough light.”
“This isn’t much to go on, kid.”
“I know. And I’m not expecting miracles or anything. But I really would like to know who was spying on us.”
“What’s my cell number?”
“Huh?” Trixie stared at him blankly, confused by the abrupt change of topic. “What? You forgot your own number?”
“No. But I want to make sure you actually have it memorized in case you lose another phone.”
“Oh. I didn’t precisely lose it, you know. I mean… I know exactly where it is.”
“Lose. Toss. Run over with a car. Blown up by an air to surface missile. Anything could happen where you’re concerned, kid.”
“This is true,” she conceded with a rueful chuckle. “You’re 555-bug-wham.”
“I’m what?”
“Bug wham. I remember phone numbers by figuring out what they spell. Well, if they spell anything. I haven’t been able to come up with anything for Mart.”
Eric shook his head, laughing quietly. “You never fail to amuse, kid.”
“It’s a special talent,” Trixie retorted, deadpan. “You have to be born with it."
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie popped open her car door and slid behind the wheel. As she was reaching for her seatbelt, she noticed a small, silver cell phone on the passenger seat next to her, sitting on top of a plain white envelope. A chill shot down her spine and she twisted about to look in her backseat. There was nothing there but the rainbow-colored umbrella she kept for emergencies.
With shaking hands, she pulled out her own phone. “Are you still inside?” she asked, as soon as Eric answered.
“Paying my bill.”
“Can you come out here? There’s something I need you to see. Someone left me a present.”
“Don’t move.”
Trixie didn’t obey his command to the letter. She clambered out of her car and stood in the parking lot, looking carefully around. There were several people walking in both directions on the sidewalk in front of the diner, but none seemed to be paying her any particular attention.
Eric joined her less than a minute later. Wordlessly, she pointed toward the passenger door.
“Did you touch anything?”
“My door. And my steering wheel. And seat belt.”
“Right.”
A faint tinny sound reached them. Trixie swallowed hard as the screen on the phone lit up. She looked at Eric and waited.
“Let it go. Let’s see what happens.” He opened her door and reached carefully inside, picking the envelope up by one corner. “Do you want me to open it?”
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess this is it.”
Eric frowned heavily as he pulled out a single photograph. “Is this from today?” he asked her, turning it so she could see. “You’re wearing the same outfit.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s from this morning.” She glanced quickly at her watch. “Only about forty minutes ago. When I was saying goodbye to Regan outside our apartment before he left for work and I came here.”
Eric studied the picture intently. “This was done with a quality camera. Digital. I’d say you were less than fifty yards away from the person who took it.”
The cell phone started ringing again and Trixie leaned into her car to grab it. She pressed a key and held the phone to her ear. “Who are you?” she demanded angrily. “What do you want from me?”
“Don’t talk, Miss Belden,” a cold voice said in reply. “Just listen.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Regan surveyed the newly cleared acre with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it seemed absurd to balk at such a magnanimous gift. On the other, he found himself loathing the idea that Matthew Wheeler was extending him a deal that was more charity than earned.
But what could he do in the end other than accept? A home of his own and deeded acreage was part of his “compensation package” for his promotion. He’d already signed the paperwork. Now he had to meet with yet another architect, to discuss various options and designs. He set off back down the trail, hoping Trixie remembered their appointment. In truth, he didn’t much care what the house looked like, as long as she was happy with it. He was content to leave those decisions to her.
He saw her car as soon as he came around from the back of the new stable’s half-built frame. Calling a reminder to Travis that he would be gone for the remainder of the afternoon, he walked down the drive to meet her. Trixie was sitting behind the wheel, reading something on her phone as he opened the passenger-side door and climbed in. “Hey, Wildcat. You’re right on time.”
“Yep.” She cranked the engine and shifted into reverse.
“Are you all right?” he asked after a moment, noting the tense set of her shoulders.
“I’ve definitely been better,” she replied tersely. “But before you ask, I promise to tell you everything in a bit. Right now, though, I need you to play navigator.” She handed him a sheet of paper with handwritten directions.
“We’re supposed to be going to White Plains.”
“Yeah. We’re not gonna make that appointment. We’ll hafta reschedule.”
“Wildcat… what’s going on?”
“We’re going to meet Eric at that address. And then we’re leaving town.”
“We’re leaving… You’ve been contacted.”
“Yes.”
“And given instructions?”
“Yep.”
“And they were?”
She winced and drew in a shaky breath. “I will tell you, Regan. As soon as we’re on the road, okay? But I need… I need a little more time to - I just need a bit more time.” Suddenly, she looked over at him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said quietly, wondering why he thought he heard an apology in her tone.
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie pulled her car around the back of the ramshackle, abandoned barn as Eric had instructed. She found him there, leaning up against an old, silver Corolla parked in the shade of a tall oak tree. He tossed her the keys as soon as she slid out from behind her wheel.
“I’ve packed two bags for you,” he told her. “And there’s a laptop and a thousand dollars in cash.”
She shot him a startled look and he waved one hand. “Matthew Wheeler,” he said in explanation. “You’ve also got a debit card to a bank account in the name of Sarah White. You’ll find an ID to match.” He glanced at Regan. “And you’re now Richard Martin. You’ll find a bag with some toiletries and hair dye. Use it. As soon as possible. Red hair stands out too much. Meanwhile, there’s a baseball cap. Wear it and keep your head covered.”
“IDs? Bank accounts? How the heck did you pull this all together in less than a day?” Trixie demanded, amazed.
“I didn’t. This has been a contingency plan for months now, in case we ever had to get you out of Sleepyside. You need to leave me your cell phones. There are two new ones for you. Prepaid.”
“And I was just getting used to the Blackberry,” Trixie muttered as she pulled it from her pocket.
“Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Regan asked mildly. “Because I really would like to know, Wildcat.”
“I know. And we’re about to have several hours on the road to talk all about it.” She glanced at Eric. “Clyde?”
“I’ll take care of the cat, kid. You need to get going.”
“And my folks?”
“As soon as it’s safe, we’ll let them know you’ve left.”
“What about Maggie?”
“There’s someone on the way to get her. We’ll bring her back to the Manor House estate where she’ll be safe.”
“She won’t want to come.”
“She won’t have a choice.” He stepped closer, his gaze direct and intense. “Are you absolutely certain you want to do this?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You could refuse.”
“And put everyone I love at risk? Not a chance.”
“Yeah. I figured you’d say that.”
“I’m stubborn like that.”
He nodded once. “Go. I’ll drive your car back into town and see if there’s a tail.”
Trixie offered him a brief smile. “Thanks.”
A few minutes later, they were on the road, heading north. Trixie waited until they reached the highway before speaking. “It’s a good thing you’re already sitting down. What I’m about to tell you is… it’s crazy. There’s no other word for it. It’s just crazy.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“After your father left Wheeler Industries, he got a job working at a research facility that had contracts with the government. It was the middle of the Cold War and both sides were working on a new kind of weapon.” Trixie paused in her recitation, gathering her thoughts. She glanced in her rearview mirror and frowned slightly before continuing. “The goal was to develop some sort of nuclear weapon that was portable and easy to transport. According to some sources, America and the Soviets succeeded. Here in the good, ole’ United States, they made something called a… uh… SADM. Special Atomic Demolition Munition. It supposedly had the explosive power of a thousand tons of TNT, but only weighed about ninety pounds and could be carried in a specially designed backpack.”
“Wildcat… I need you to back up. What has this got to do with us and where are we going?”
“I’ll get to it. Promise. Just give me a minute. Your dad was part of a team that developed a working model of this SADM. But apparently he was a bit of a pacifist and he had a crisis of conscience. Somehow? He smuggled the prototype out of the lab and… hid it somewhere. Regan? The box? It’s a bomb. And we have to find it. In one week.”
He stared at her, completely at a loss for words.
“People have been looking for this thing for years. They’ve been watching your aunt, but they hadn’t really gotten anywhere, until she finally made a mistake.”
“Mistake?” Regan repeated hollowly. Could any of this really be true? His father stole a bomb? An atomic weapon?
“She decided to look for you and your sister. And she trusted someone to help her. The wrong someone. Unfortunately, she showed him the photograph and postcard, and that caused a renewed interest in the hunt. Bobby’s grave robbers? Were looking for the bomb. They followed the same clues we did to the cemetery in Sleepyside, but they didn’t find anything. Meanwhile, the focus shifted to you. They’ve been watching you, too. You dropped off the radar a few times, but ever since you came to Sleepyside and became a respectable, tax-paying individual, they’ve known where you were. I’m betting the fact that Mr. Wheeler sent a PI looking for your family didn’t help…”
“Trixie.”
She blinked and looked over at him. It had been quite some time since he’d addressed her by her actual name.
“You’re really telling me that my father stole and hid a bomb and we’re supposed to find it? This isn’t just crazy. It’s… it’s impossible.”
“Mr. Wheeler confirmed that your dad did work at this lab, and Eric says plenty of people have corroborated the existence of suitcase bombs. In any case? The people looking for it believe it’s real and believe your dad stole it… and if we don’t find it, they’ve threatened to go after my whole family. And Dan. And Honey… pretty much everybody we care about.”
“Wildcat, please. We can’t go looking for a bomb. A nuclear bomb!”
“You got another option? I’m willing to entertain other ideas, but just so you know, I don’t think Witness Protection works when you’re talking about more than a dozen people.” She looked up in her mirror again and flipped on her blinker to change lanes, going around a slower moving minivan.
“But think this through. Let’s say it’s all true. And let’s say – somehow – we succeed and find this bomb. Then what? We can’t have something like that falling into the wrong hands.”
“I know. We were given a deadline of seven days. In that time, you and I have to find where your dad hid the box. Meanwhile, Eric and Mr. Wheeler and probably Agent Ben and plenty of others are gonna be developing some sorta plan. An exit strategy for us and the bomb. If we’re lucky, they may even be able to track down the bad guys before our time is up.”
“This could go wrong in so many ways.”
She flashed him a weak smile. “I’ve thought of at least twenty so far…”
“So what happened today? How did you find all this out?”
“Someone broke into my car while I was meeting Eric at Wimpy’s. They left me a phone and a picture of us. You and me. From this morning when we left the apartment. I got a call on that phone and that’s when they explained everything to me.”
“And the deadline? Why seven days?”
“One, I’m sure to impress upon us a certain sense of urgency, but two, and you’ll really like this part, there’re more than two parties in this game. There’s us and there’s the people threatening us, and then there’s a third group. Not much is known about them, but I’ve been given to understand they’ll be going out of their way to stop us from finding it. I don’t know much there, except the phrase ‘foreign interests’ was used.”
He watched as she glanced up at the mirror again and gradually reduced their speed. “Wildcat? Is someone following us?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how they spotted us, but they’ve been on our tail since we pulled out of Sleepyside.”
“Are you going to try to lose them?”
“Nope. In fact, I’m trying to make sure I don’t lose them, without looking like I don’t want to lose them.” She swung into the fast lane only long enough to pass another car. “When we come to a rest stop, I’m going to pull over,” she told him. “I need you to drive for awhile. Okay?”
“I can drive,” he agreed slowly. “If you’ll tell me where it is we’re actually going.”
“To the cabin.”
“The fishing cabin?”
“Yeah,” she said with a faint, crooked grin. “Though, since neither of us are really into fishing and all the captain did was read, I think we should start calling it the ‘horsey cabin.’ Just sayin’”
“Why there?”
“Because we have a plan and getting to the cabin is part one.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The small cabin Captain Molinson bequeathed to Trixie was closed up and dark when they arrived. Regan pulled up in front and put the Corolla in park. “Okay, baby. We’re here. Now what?”
“Grab everything. We’re abandoning this vehicle. And we need to hurry. We probably only have a few minutes at most to pull this off.”
He followed her to the door and waited for her to unlock it. Once they were inside, Trixie reached out and flipped a light switch. “Dan?”
“We’re here, Trix,” came the soft reply. “You got everything you need?”
“As much as Eric could pack for us.”
“Dan?” Regan said incredulously. “Charly?”
“Hey, Uncle Bill.”
“How…? When…?”
“No time. You two need to move it.”
Trixie attempted a smile that failed miserably. “Yeah. Listen… thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”
“No. You don’t owe me any thanks,” Dan said, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “This mess belongs to my family, not yours. You got pulled into it because of us and I am so sorry.”
Trixie looked over at Charly. “Well, this can’t be put on your shoulders, anyway.”
“Yeah… I’m just the daughter of two people who tried on more than one occasion to kill you. Seems like this is the least I could do to make up for it.”
Trixie nodded once. “Right. Flashlight?”
“On the counter,” Dan told her. “Along with some sandwiches. We didn’t know if you’d even stopped to eat.”
“I hadn’t actually thought of eating,” Trixie admitted, “but I’m sure at some point my stomach will remind the rest of me that it needs food. So which way?”
“Follow the trail to the lake and then keep going. The third path from there will take you to a cabin that’s empty. I left the car there.” He held out a key ring. “It’s gassed up and ready to go.”
“Good. The Corolla’s all yours.”
Dan crossed to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “Be careful, Trixie. Be safe.”
“We’ll do our best.”
He turned and hugged his uncle. “Good luck,” he said quietly. He thought perhaps there was more he should say, but the words seemed somehow stuck in his throat and he could only hope that Regan knew how important he was to him, and how grateful he was for all that his uncle had done for him.
“You guys be careful, too,” Trixie said before leading Regan out the back door and onto the narrow porch. “We’ll call you if we can.”
With that, she skipped down the steps and slipped away into the shadowy darkness, Regan following behind.
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie motioned to Regan to stop walking. She crouched down and carefully scanned the area. As far as she could tell, there was no one else about. She thought perhaps she was being overly cautious, but then the words “nuclear bomb” popped into her head and she realized, at this point, there was no such thing as too cautious. They would need to walk along the beach for about a hundred yards. This area was open and exposed. An almost full moon hung low in the sky, both a blessing and a curse. While it helped them to see without risking the flashlight’s use, it also meant they would be more easily spotted by anyone looking.
Finally, she rose and stepped out from under the cover of the tree-lined path. She moved quickly, knowing Regan would keep up. A night owl hooted from nearby and she realized then how tightly her nerves were wound as she only just managed to keep from shrieking.
It took about three minutes to reach the trail that would lead to the other cabin. Trixie scanned the ground for prints and saw only two sets, leading back the way they’d come. These, she presumed, belonged to Dan and Charly. She listened carefully for any unexpected noises or hints that anything was amiss as they crept their way forward.
They found both the cabin and car without difficulty and after taking a moment to inspect the surrounding area closely, Trixie hurried to unlock and open the driver’s side door. No light came on and for a brief second she had the panicked thought that the vehicle’s battery had died, but then she realized it was deliberate, to keep them in the relative protection of the dark for as long as possible. Sending Dan and Charly a mental thanks, she turned the key in the ignition and felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. A luxury sedan might have seemed like an odd choice for a getaway vehicle, but its remarkably quiet engine was more than welcome.
When they pulled out onto the highway some ten minutes later, Trixie noted with relief that there were no cars coming in either direction. They drove for almost three miles before passing a pickup truck heading the opposite way.
“I’m almost afraid to say it, but I think we did it. Whoever was following us must still be watching the cabin, which is what we were aiming for. We came north, but we really need to be heading south. Dan and Charly will stay the night. They’re gonna leave the lights on and move around, so it will look like we’re still in there. Meanwhile? We’re heading to Philadelphia.”
“Philadelphia.”
“Yep. Fleet Street. Turns out? There’s a cemetery on Fleet Street. And the address number is the same as the wrong birth year on the marker in Sleepyside. It’s another one of your dad’s clues.”
“How’d you figure that out?”
“Lucky guess? I got to thinking how the return address on the postcard was important, so I thought maybe that bit about the marker being donated by the Fleet Street Patriots was important, too. I got Eric to confirm it for me when I was texting him while you were driving. There’s a cemetery at 1924 Fleet Street. That’s where we’re going.”
Regan glanced out the window at the dark sky. “You know, pretty much since the moment you turned up and announced we were going to miss our appointment with the architect, I’ve felt like I’m about fifty steps behind you and just about useless,” he remarked softly, grimacing as he spoke.
“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been… dragging you all over with barely any explanation. I just… there are a million things going on in my head and I’m fighting not to lose my mind completely because of it. I feel like we’ve fallen into an X-Files episode and any moment now, Mulder and Scully are gonna turn up and tell us all about alien goo.”
“I know we’re on a deadline, but we’ve been up since 5:00 and running most of the day. It’ll be close to two by the time we reach Philly. We’re going to need to sleep at some point.”
“Yeah. I guess we’ll find a motel somewhere. I don’t want to waste even an hour, but running until we collapse won’t do us any good, obviously.”
“We should consider that sooner rather than later,” he said. “It’ll probably be impossible to find a hotel in Philadelphia or the surrounding area.”
“Huh? Why?”
“You do know what today is, don’t you, Wildcat?”
She considered this for a moment, then groaned. “Crap. I’d totally forgotten. Yeah. I guess trying to get a hotel room in Philly on Independence Day would be like trying to get one in New Orleans for Mardi Gras…”
~~~~~~~~~
“What do we know right now?” Matt asked Eric as he poured them both drinks.
“They made it to the cabin and traded cars. They’re somewhere on the road now, heading for Philly.”
“And Trixie thinks they’ll find another grave site there?”
“That’s her theory. The real question is why? Does this trail ultimately lead to the suitcase?”
“Isn’t that the point?” Matt sank down in one of the elegant leather chairs that flanked the fireplace in his well-appointed home office, holding out Eric’s glass.
“Is it? It seems… risky. Why set this up like some kind of crazy scavenger hunt?”
“Presumably Neall did it to throw off anyone looking for the bomb. Anyone other than his own children.”
“That’s a large part of the risk. Neall Regan assumed his own children would be able to find and understand the clues he left them. There was no way to guarantee that would happen. So far, it’s been simple, but I’m wondering if things will get trickier as they go along.”
Matthew regarded the other man thoughtfully. “I would hardly call it ‘simple.’ Do you think the average person would have even made it this far?”
“The ‘average’ person couldn’t find his own ass with carefully written instructions and a labeled diagram to help,” Eric muttered cynically. “I doubt we’re dealing with ‘average’ people here. Remember, Neall was part of a team that developed the SADM. I’m sure his fellow scientists are among those who’d like to get it back.” He huffed out a low breath and stared moodily at the darkness outside the window to his right. “I got a lot of faith in the kid. She can be recklessly impulsive and she’s got less balance and grace than a three-legged hippo, but she’s sharp. She can see patterns and solutions where most people see nothing but a disconnected mess. But what she’s up against now? I just don’t know.”
“What’s your next step?”
“I’m calling in every favor I’ve ever been owed and asking for a helluva lot more. We need to identify all the players so we can figure out how to stop them.”
“Tell me what you need. And how fast you need it.”
“I didn’t see him well,” Trixie said apologetically. “It was sunset and there wasn’t much light.” She waved a hand to acknowledge the greeting her uncle called to her from behind the counter. “Morning, Uncle A. Can I get two fried eggs and some bacon? And orange juice?”
“Have it out in a jiff for you, sweetie.”
She smiled her thanks and turned her attention back to the man sitting across from her. “He was wearing pants. Not jeans or sweatpants. Some kind of dark slacks. And he had on a jacket. His hair was dark.”
“Tall? Short?”
“Average, I guess? He wasn’t as tall as Regan.”
“Heavy or thin?”
“Thin. Definitely thin. Actually, in terms of height and build, I’d say he was very similar to Tom Delanoy.”
Eric grunted in response to that as he took another bite of his breakfast. Trixie glanced out the diner’s wide window, noting the steady stream of traffic heading south on Main Street. Commuters, she supposed, on their way to the city for their nine-to-five jobs doing who knew what.
“Tell me about the car.”
“Uh… newer. It had that more rounded look, you know? Not as boxy as the cars from the early 90’s. It was black, with dark windows and four doors.”
“Nothing else? Did you notice any stickers? Dents?”
She shook her head and shrugged at the same time. “It was too far away and there wasn’t enough light.”
“This isn’t much to go on, kid.”
“I know. And I’m not expecting miracles or anything. But I really would like to know who was spying on us.”
“What’s my cell number?”
“Huh?” Trixie stared at him blankly, confused by the abrupt change of topic. “What? You forgot your own number?”
“No. But I want to make sure you actually have it memorized in case you lose another phone.”
“Oh. I didn’t precisely lose it, you know. I mean… I know exactly where it is.”
“Lose. Toss. Run over with a car. Blown up by an air to surface missile. Anything could happen where you’re concerned, kid.”
“This is true,” she conceded with a rueful chuckle. “You’re 555-bug-wham.”
“I’m what?”
“Bug wham. I remember phone numbers by figuring out what they spell. Well, if they spell anything. I haven’t been able to come up with anything for Mart.”
Eric shook his head, laughing quietly. “You never fail to amuse, kid.”
“It’s a special talent,” Trixie retorted, deadpan. “You have to be born with it."
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie popped open her car door and slid behind the wheel. As she was reaching for her seatbelt, she noticed a small, silver cell phone on the passenger seat next to her, sitting on top of a plain white envelope. A chill shot down her spine and she twisted about to look in her backseat. There was nothing there but the rainbow-colored umbrella she kept for emergencies.
With shaking hands, she pulled out her own phone. “Are you still inside?” she asked, as soon as Eric answered.
“Paying my bill.”
“Can you come out here? There’s something I need you to see. Someone left me a present.”
“Don’t move.”
Trixie didn’t obey his command to the letter. She clambered out of her car and stood in the parking lot, looking carefully around. There were several people walking in both directions on the sidewalk in front of the diner, but none seemed to be paying her any particular attention.
Eric joined her less than a minute later. Wordlessly, she pointed toward the passenger door.
“Did you touch anything?”
“My door. And my steering wheel. And seat belt.”
“Right.”
A faint tinny sound reached them. Trixie swallowed hard as the screen on the phone lit up. She looked at Eric and waited.
“Let it go. Let’s see what happens.” He opened her door and reached carefully inside, picking the envelope up by one corner. “Do you want me to open it?”
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess this is it.”
Eric frowned heavily as he pulled out a single photograph. “Is this from today?” he asked her, turning it so she could see. “You’re wearing the same outfit.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s from this morning.” She glanced quickly at her watch. “Only about forty minutes ago. When I was saying goodbye to Regan outside our apartment before he left for work and I came here.”
Eric studied the picture intently. “This was done with a quality camera. Digital. I’d say you were less than fifty yards away from the person who took it.”
The cell phone started ringing again and Trixie leaned into her car to grab it. She pressed a key and held the phone to her ear. “Who are you?” she demanded angrily. “What do you want from me?”
“Don’t talk, Miss Belden,” a cold voice said in reply. “Just listen.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Regan surveyed the newly cleared acre with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it seemed absurd to balk at such a magnanimous gift. On the other, he found himself loathing the idea that Matthew Wheeler was extending him a deal that was more charity than earned.
But what could he do in the end other than accept? A home of his own and deeded acreage was part of his “compensation package” for his promotion. He’d already signed the paperwork. Now he had to meet with yet another architect, to discuss various options and designs. He set off back down the trail, hoping Trixie remembered their appointment. In truth, he didn’t much care what the house looked like, as long as she was happy with it. He was content to leave those decisions to her.
He saw her car as soon as he came around from the back of the new stable’s half-built frame. Calling a reminder to Travis that he would be gone for the remainder of the afternoon, he walked down the drive to meet her. Trixie was sitting behind the wheel, reading something on her phone as he opened the passenger-side door and climbed in. “Hey, Wildcat. You’re right on time.”
“Yep.” She cranked the engine and shifted into reverse.
“Are you all right?” he asked after a moment, noting the tense set of her shoulders.
“I’ve definitely been better,” she replied tersely. “But before you ask, I promise to tell you everything in a bit. Right now, though, I need you to play navigator.” She handed him a sheet of paper with handwritten directions.
“We’re supposed to be going to White Plains.”
“Yeah. We’re not gonna make that appointment. We’ll hafta reschedule.”
“Wildcat… what’s going on?”
“We’re going to meet Eric at that address. And then we’re leaving town.”
“We’re leaving… You’ve been contacted.”
“Yes.”
“And given instructions?”
“Yep.”
“And they were?”
She winced and drew in a shaky breath. “I will tell you, Regan. As soon as we’re on the road, okay? But I need… I need a little more time to - I just need a bit more time.” Suddenly, she looked over at him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said quietly, wondering why he thought he heard an apology in her tone.
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie pulled her car around the back of the ramshackle, abandoned barn as Eric had instructed. She found him there, leaning up against an old, silver Corolla parked in the shade of a tall oak tree. He tossed her the keys as soon as she slid out from behind her wheel.
“I’ve packed two bags for you,” he told her. “And there’s a laptop and a thousand dollars in cash.”
She shot him a startled look and he waved one hand. “Matthew Wheeler,” he said in explanation. “You’ve also got a debit card to a bank account in the name of Sarah White. You’ll find an ID to match.” He glanced at Regan. “And you’re now Richard Martin. You’ll find a bag with some toiletries and hair dye. Use it. As soon as possible. Red hair stands out too much. Meanwhile, there’s a baseball cap. Wear it and keep your head covered.”
“IDs? Bank accounts? How the heck did you pull this all together in less than a day?” Trixie demanded, amazed.
“I didn’t. This has been a contingency plan for months now, in case we ever had to get you out of Sleepyside. You need to leave me your cell phones. There are two new ones for you. Prepaid.”
“And I was just getting used to the Blackberry,” Trixie muttered as she pulled it from her pocket.
“Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Regan asked mildly. “Because I really would like to know, Wildcat.”
“I know. And we’re about to have several hours on the road to talk all about it.” She glanced at Eric. “Clyde?”
“I’ll take care of the cat, kid. You need to get going.”
“And my folks?”
“As soon as it’s safe, we’ll let them know you’ve left.”
“What about Maggie?”
“There’s someone on the way to get her. We’ll bring her back to the Manor House estate where she’ll be safe.”
“She won’t want to come.”
“She won’t have a choice.” He stepped closer, his gaze direct and intense. “Are you absolutely certain you want to do this?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You could refuse.”
“And put everyone I love at risk? Not a chance.”
“Yeah. I figured you’d say that.”
“I’m stubborn like that.”
He nodded once. “Go. I’ll drive your car back into town and see if there’s a tail.”
Trixie offered him a brief smile. “Thanks.”
A few minutes later, they were on the road, heading north. Trixie waited until they reached the highway before speaking. “It’s a good thing you’re already sitting down. What I’m about to tell you is… it’s crazy. There’s no other word for it. It’s just crazy.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“After your father left Wheeler Industries, he got a job working at a research facility that had contracts with the government. It was the middle of the Cold War and both sides were working on a new kind of weapon.” Trixie paused in her recitation, gathering her thoughts. She glanced in her rearview mirror and frowned slightly before continuing. “The goal was to develop some sort of nuclear weapon that was portable and easy to transport. According to some sources, America and the Soviets succeeded. Here in the good, ole’ United States, they made something called a… uh… SADM. Special Atomic Demolition Munition. It supposedly had the explosive power of a thousand tons of TNT, but only weighed about ninety pounds and could be carried in a specially designed backpack.”
“Wildcat… I need you to back up. What has this got to do with us and where are we going?”
“I’ll get to it. Promise. Just give me a minute. Your dad was part of a team that developed a working model of this SADM. But apparently he was a bit of a pacifist and he had a crisis of conscience. Somehow? He smuggled the prototype out of the lab and… hid it somewhere. Regan? The box? It’s a bomb. And we have to find it. In one week.”
He stared at her, completely at a loss for words.
“People have been looking for this thing for years. They’ve been watching your aunt, but they hadn’t really gotten anywhere, until she finally made a mistake.”
“Mistake?” Regan repeated hollowly. Could any of this really be true? His father stole a bomb? An atomic weapon?
“She decided to look for you and your sister. And she trusted someone to help her. The wrong someone. Unfortunately, she showed him the photograph and postcard, and that caused a renewed interest in the hunt. Bobby’s grave robbers? Were looking for the bomb. They followed the same clues we did to the cemetery in Sleepyside, but they didn’t find anything. Meanwhile, the focus shifted to you. They’ve been watching you, too. You dropped off the radar a few times, but ever since you came to Sleepyside and became a respectable, tax-paying individual, they’ve known where you were. I’m betting the fact that Mr. Wheeler sent a PI looking for your family didn’t help…”
“Trixie.”
She blinked and looked over at him. It had been quite some time since he’d addressed her by her actual name.
“You’re really telling me that my father stole and hid a bomb and we’re supposed to find it? This isn’t just crazy. It’s… it’s impossible.”
“Mr. Wheeler confirmed that your dad did work at this lab, and Eric says plenty of people have corroborated the existence of suitcase bombs. In any case? The people looking for it believe it’s real and believe your dad stole it… and if we don’t find it, they’ve threatened to go after my whole family. And Dan. And Honey… pretty much everybody we care about.”
“Wildcat, please. We can’t go looking for a bomb. A nuclear bomb!”
“You got another option? I’m willing to entertain other ideas, but just so you know, I don’t think Witness Protection works when you’re talking about more than a dozen people.” She looked up in her mirror again and flipped on her blinker to change lanes, going around a slower moving minivan.
“But think this through. Let’s say it’s all true. And let’s say – somehow – we succeed and find this bomb. Then what? We can’t have something like that falling into the wrong hands.”
“I know. We were given a deadline of seven days. In that time, you and I have to find where your dad hid the box. Meanwhile, Eric and Mr. Wheeler and probably Agent Ben and plenty of others are gonna be developing some sorta plan. An exit strategy for us and the bomb. If we’re lucky, they may even be able to track down the bad guys before our time is up.”
“This could go wrong in so many ways.”
She flashed him a weak smile. “I’ve thought of at least twenty so far…”
“So what happened today? How did you find all this out?”
“Someone broke into my car while I was meeting Eric at Wimpy’s. They left me a phone and a picture of us. You and me. From this morning when we left the apartment. I got a call on that phone and that’s when they explained everything to me.”
“And the deadline? Why seven days?”
“One, I’m sure to impress upon us a certain sense of urgency, but two, and you’ll really like this part, there’re more than two parties in this game. There’s us and there’s the people threatening us, and then there’s a third group. Not much is known about them, but I’ve been given to understand they’ll be going out of their way to stop us from finding it. I don’t know much there, except the phrase ‘foreign interests’ was used.”
He watched as she glanced up at the mirror again and gradually reduced their speed. “Wildcat? Is someone following us?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how they spotted us, but they’ve been on our tail since we pulled out of Sleepyside.”
“Are you going to try to lose them?”
“Nope. In fact, I’m trying to make sure I don’t lose them, without looking like I don’t want to lose them.” She swung into the fast lane only long enough to pass another car. “When we come to a rest stop, I’m going to pull over,” she told him. “I need you to drive for awhile. Okay?”
“I can drive,” he agreed slowly. “If you’ll tell me where it is we’re actually going.”
“To the cabin.”
“The fishing cabin?”
“Yeah,” she said with a faint, crooked grin. “Though, since neither of us are really into fishing and all the captain did was read, I think we should start calling it the ‘horsey cabin.’ Just sayin’”
“Why there?”
“Because we have a plan and getting to the cabin is part one.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The small cabin Captain Molinson bequeathed to Trixie was closed up and dark when they arrived. Regan pulled up in front and put the Corolla in park. “Okay, baby. We’re here. Now what?”
“Grab everything. We’re abandoning this vehicle. And we need to hurry. We probably only have a few minutes at most to pull this off.”
He followed her to the door and waited for her to unlock it. Once they were inside, Trixie reached out and flipped a light switch. “Dan?”
“We’re here, Trix,” came the soft reply. “You got everything you need?”
“As much as Eric could pack for us.”
“Dan?” Regan said incredulously. “Charly?”
“Hey, Uncle Bill.”
“How…? When…?”
“No time. You two need to move it.”
Trixie attempted a smile that failed miserably. “Yeah. Listen… thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”
“No. You don’t owe me any thanks,” Dan said, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “This mess belongs to my family, not yours. You got pulled into it because of us and I am so sorry.”
Trixie looked over at Charly. “Well, this can’t be put on your shoulders, anyway.”
“Yeah… I’m just the daughter of two people who tried on more than one occasion to kill you. Seems like this is the least I could do to make up for it.”
Trixie nodded once. “Right. Flashlight?”
“On the counter,” Dan told her. “Along with some sandwiches. We didn’t know if you’d even stopped to eat.”
“I hadn’t actually thought of eating,” Trixie admitted, “but I’m sure at some point my stomach will remind the rest of me that it needs food. So which way?”
“Follow the trail to the lake and then keep going. The third path from there will take you to a cabin that’s empty. I left the car there.” He held out a key ring. “It’s gassed up and ready to go.”
“Good. The Corolla’s all yours.”
Dan crossed to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “Be careful, Trixie. Be safe.”
“We’ll do our best.”
He turned and hugged his uncle. “Good luck,” he said quietly. He thought perhaps there was more he should say, but the words seemed somehow stuck in his throat and he could only hope that Regan knew how important he was to him, and how grateful he was for all that his uncle had done for him.
“You guys be careful, too,” Trixie said before leading Regan out the back door and onto the narrow porch. “We’ll call you if we can.”
With that, she skipped down the steps and slipped away into the shadowy darkness, Regan following behind.
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie motioned to Regan to stop walking. She crouched down and carefully scanned the area. As far as she could tell, there was no one else about. She thought perhaps she was being overly cautious, but then the words “nuclear bomb” popped into her head and she realized, at this point, there was no such thing as too cautious. They would need to walk along the beach for about a hundred yards. This area was open and exposed. An almost full moon hung low in the sky, both a blessing and a curse. While it helped them to see without risking the flashlight’s use, it also meant they would be more easily spotted by anyone looking.
Finally, she rose and stepped out from under the cover of the tree-lined path. She moved quickly, knowing Regan would keep up. A night owl hooted from nearby and she realized then how tightly her nerves were wound as she only just managed to keep from shrieking.
It took about three minutes to reach the trail that would lead to the other cabin. Trixie scanned the ground for prints and saw only two sets, leading back the way they’d come. These, she presumed, belonged to Dan and Charly. She listened carefully for any unexpected noises or hints that anything was amiss as they crept their way forward.
They found both the cabin and car without difficulty and after taking a moment to inspect the surrounding area closely, Trixie hurried to unlock and open the driver’s side door. No light came on and for a brief second she had the panicked thought that the vehicle’s battery had died, but then she realized it was deliberate, to keep them in the relative protection of the dark for as long as possible. Sending Dan and Charly a mental thanks, she turned the key in the ignition and felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. A luxury sedan might have seemed like an odd choice for a getaway vehicle, but its remarkably quiet engine was more than welcome.
When they pulled out onto the highway some ten minutes later, Trixie noted with relief that there were no cars coming in either direction. They drove for almost three miles before passing a pickup truck heading the opposite way.
“I’m almost afraid to say it, but I think we did it. Whoever was following us must still be watching the cabin, which is what we were aiming for. We came north, but we really need to be heading south. Dan and Charly will stay the night. They’re gonna leave the lights on and move around, so it will look like we’re still in there. Meanwhile? We’re heading to Philadelphia.”
“Philadelphia.”
“Yep. Fleet Street. Turns out? There’s a cemetery on Fleet Street. And the address number is the same as the wrong birth year on the marker in Sleepyside. It’s another one of your dad’s clues.”
“How’d you figure that out?”
“Lucky guess? I got to thinking how the return address on the postcard was important, so I thought maybe that bit about the marker being donated by the Fleet Street Patriots was important, too. I got Eric to confirm it for me when I was texting him while you were driving. There’s a cemetery at 1924 Fleet Street. That’s where we’re going.”
Regan glanced out the window at the dark sky. “You know, pretty much since the moment you turned up and announced we were going to miss our appointment with the architect, I’ve felt like I’m about fifty steps behind you and just about useless,” he remarked softly, grimacing as he spoke.
“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been… dragging you all over with barely any explanation. I just… there are a million things going on in my head and I’m fighting not to lose my mind completely because of it. I feel like we’ve fallen into an X-Files episode and any moment now, Mulder and Scully are gonna turn up and tell us all about alien goo.”
“I know we’re on a deadline, but we’ve been up since 5:00 and running most of the day. It’ll be close to two by the time we reach Philly. We’re going to need to sleep at some point.”
“Yeah. I guess we’ll find a motel somewhere. I don’t want to waste even an hour, but running until we collapse won’t do us any good, obviously.”
“We should consider that sooner rather than later,” he said. “It’ll probably be impossible to find a hotel in Philadelphia or the surrounding area.”
“Huh? Why?”
“You do know what today is, don’t you, Wildcat?”
She considered this for a moment, then groaned. “Crap. I’d totally forgotten. Yeah. I guess trying to get a hotel room in Philly on Independence Day would be like trying to get one in New Orleans for Mardi Gras…”
~~~~~~~~~
“What do we know right now?” Matt asked Eric as he poured them both drinks.
“They made it to the cabin and traded cars. They’re somewhere on the road now, heading for Philly.”
“And Trixie thinks they’ll find another grave site there?”
“That’s her theory. The real question is why? Does this trail ultimately lead to the suitcase?”
“Isn’t that the point?” Matt sank down in one of the elegant leather chairs that flanked the fireplace in his well-appointed home office, holding out Eric’s glass.
“Is it? It seems… risky. Why set this up like some kind of crazy scavenger hunt?”
“Presumably Neall did it to throw off anyone looking for the bomb. Anyone other than his own children.”
“That’s a large part of the risk. Neall Regan assumed his own children would be able to find and understand the clues he left them. There was no way to guarantee that would happen. So far, it’s been simple, but I’m wondering if things will get trickier as they go along.”
Matthew regarded the other man thoughtfully. “I would hardly call it ‘simple.’ Do you think the average person would have even made it this far?”
“The ‘average’ person couldn’t find his own ass with carefully written instructions and a labeled diagram to help,” Eric muttered cynically. “I doubt we’re dealing with ‘average’ people here. Remember, Neall was part of a team that developed the SADM. I’m sure his fellow scientists are among those who’d like to get it back.” He huffed out a low breath and stared moodily at the darkness outside the window to his right. “I got a lot of faith in the kid. She can be recklessly impulsive and she’s got less balance and grace than a three-legged hippo, but she’s sharp. She can see patterns and solutions where most people see nothing but a disconnected mess. But what she’s up against now? I just don’t know.”
“What’s your next step?”
“I’m calling in every favor I’ve ever been owed and asking for a helluva lot more. We need to identify all the players so we can figure out how to stop them.”
“Tell me what you need. And how fast you need it.”