Secret Histories yrj-1 Read online

  “And weren’t we wondering why they locked us in the car instead of shooing us

  home?” She was on a rol now. “Maybe they wanted to give their

  operatives back here enough time to get the job done.”

  “‘Operatives’? Weez, do you hear yourself?”

  Her tone turned angry. “Yeah, I hear myself. Now you hear this: The cube is

  gone,Jack. And since I didn’t lose it or misplace it, that means someone took it.”

  “Okay, okay. But that doesn’t mean the helicopters and the excavating had

  anything to do with the cube disappearing. Someone may have been

  watching your house, spotted you leaving, saw his chance, and took it.” “Just check for me, Jack. Please?”

  He didn’t feel like going back into the house, but had to admit that whoever had

  stolen from Weezy’s room while they were out could just as easily

  —more easily, since he was on the ground floor—have stolen from his. Plus he found it hard to refuse that pleading look in her eyes.

  “Okay. Be right back.”

  “If they’re there, don’t bring them with you. Don’t let anyone know you have

  them.”

  Wondering at the bizarre turns of events since he’d dug into that mound, Jack

  hurried inside. He passed Mom on his way through the living room. She was giving him a funny look.

  “Is anything wrong?”

  “Weezy lost something—that little cube I showed you the other night. She thinks

  someone stole it. That’s why she’s upset.”

  “She should report it to Tim.”

  On his way out of the living room, he said, “She’l probably do that.” But as he

  headed down the hal , he thought, Then again, she probably won’t.

  If Jack were betting on it, he’d go with not.Tim worked for the county sheriff’s

  department, which routinely traded information with the state police. And the state police often wound up working with the federal government—the

  “feds,” as they said on TV. And the feds worked with the CIA, which was part of a network of global organizations.

  In Weezy’s world they al had secret agendas. Not that she didn’t trust them to

  do their jobs; she did—as long as those jobs didn’t interfere with their

  secret agendas. And number one on their list of agendas was guarding the

  secret history of the world, which included the secret history of America, which in turn involved the secret history of the Pine Barrens.

  No, Weezy would expect no help from the authorities.

  Jack had always laughed off her theories as wacky. After the events of this past

  week he was finding that a lot harder to do.

  Once in his room, he closed the door, then lowered the shades, thinking, I don’t

  believe I’m doing this.

  Then he pul ed out the bottom drawer of his bureau and checked the space

  below. Two sheets of paper lay there. He pul ed them out and checked them in the dim light.

  Yep. Weezy’s copies, safe and sound.

  He replaced them, slipped the drawer back into place, raised his shades, then

  returned to the sidewalk.

  “Right where I left them,” he said as he reached Weezy. “Want me to make

  copies for you?”

  “No-no-no!” she said. “Someone might have copiers staked out. Just leave them

  right where they are.”

  They stood in silence, looking around. Jack was beginning to wonder if whatever

  Weezy had was catching.

  “Wel ,” he said final y, “at least they didn’t get the pyramid too.” She slapped her forehead. “Ohmygod! I’ve been so crazy about the box I forgot

  about the pyramid. We’ve got to get it back!”

  “So it can be stolen too? At least we know it’s safe down at the Smithsonian.” “Don’t be so sure. I want it back. I’l have my mother rent a safety deposit box

  and keep it there.”

  Jack smiled and nudged her. “What about the international banking conspiracy?

  Won’t they be able to get into the box?”

  She frowned. “I never thought of that.”

  “Weez, I’m kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  Jack shook his head, then closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his

  temples.

  “I see a visit to Professor Nakamura in the near future.”

  Weez gave his arm a gentle slap. “Not ‘near’—immediate. Get your bike.”

  8

  A Japanese woman Jack assumed was Mrs. Nakamura answered the door.

  “Ohayogozaimasu,” Weezy said, al sweetness and light as she made a quick little bow from the waist. “Would you please tel the professor that Jack and Louise wish to speak to him about the pyramid? He wil understand.” The woman smiled and bowed back. “Dozoyoroshiku.Wait here. I’l tel him.”

  “Arigato.”

  Jack made a conscious effort to close his dropped jaw as he stared at Weezy. She noticed. “What?”

  “Since when do you know Japanese?”

  “Since forever. I’m fluent in it.”

  “No, real y.”

  She smiled. “Okay, after we met the professor I started thinking about it, so I

  picked up a Japanese phrase book at the library.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “‘Good morning’ and ‘Thank you.’”

  “And what did she say?”

  She frowned. “Not sure. It came out so fast. But I think she said, ‘Pleased to

  meet you.’”

  The woman was back at the door, but no longer smiling.

  “The professor is out at the moment. In fact, he is away for the weekend. He wil

  get in touch with you next week.

  Gomennasai.”

  She looked guilty as she closed the door.

  “Sayonara,” Weezy said in a low voice, then turned to Jack, her features constricted with disappointment and concern. “Do you believe that?”

  “Not for a minute.”

  Anger flashed through him. Nobody blew Weezy off and closed the door in her

  face when he was around. Suddenly he knew what to do.

  He hopped off the front steps and started walking around the side of the house. “Where are you going?”

  He didn’t turn. “To see the professor.”

  Jack led her around to the backyard. Immediately he was drawn to the stone

  garden, but he pul ed his attention away and focused on the windows into the study. There, hunched over his desk with his back to them, sat Professor

  Nakamura. Jack stepped up and rapped on the window.

  The professor jumped as if he’d heard a gunshot. He spun in his chair and froze

  when he saw Jack. They locked gazes for a few seconds, Jack giving

  him his best glare, then the professor took a deep breath and nodded. He gave

  Jack the stay-theresignal as he rose and left his study.

  A few seconds later the rear door opened and he motioned them inside. “Oh, dear,” he said as they filed past him. “I was hoping for a little more time

  before speaking to you.”

  “Why is that?” Weezy said. “Did they find something?”

  “Let us not talk here.”

  The professor led them to the study where the three of them took up seats

  around the desk.

  “What did they learn?” Weezy said. “Did they date it?”

  The professor kept his eyes down. “Not yet.”

  “Then what?”

  He sighed. “I had hoped this problem would be resolved before speaking to

  you.”

  “Problem? What problem?”

  With a sinking feeling, Jack sensed what was coming.

  The professor looked up but stil did not make eye contact. “T
he artifact has been

  … misplaced.”

  “What?”In a flash Weezy was on her feet and leaning over the desk. “What are

  you talking about?”

  “The Smithsonian … it appears to have mislaid the artifact.”

  Weezy looked at Jack with a stricken expression. “Oh, no! It’s happening there

  too. They’re everywhere!”

  Jack needed more information before he climbed onto Weezy’s wagon. “How does something like this happen?”

  The professor shrugged. “It wil be found.”

  “No, it won’t!” Weezy said, her voice rising. “We’l never see it again!” “Young lady, I am sorry for this, but I am quite confident that by Monday, or by

  Tuesday latest, they wil locate it. That is why I told my wife to say I am not here. I felt if I could put off speaking to you until then, al this unhappiness would

  be avoided.”

  “How did you find out it was gone?” Jack said.

  “My col eague at the Smithsonian cal ed me yesterday, asking the whereabouts

  of the object I told him I was sending. I had sent it for morning delivery; he should have received it.”

  “Did the delivery company get it there?”

  The professor nodded. “I cal ed Federal Express and they said they had a

  signature from the receiving clerk. My col eague cal ed the clerk who said he signed for a number of packages. He put them on a cart for delivery, but the

  package never reached my col eague.”

  “And it never wil !” Weezy cried. She slammed her hands on his desk hard

  enough to make the pens jump. “I never, evershould have let it out of my sight!”

  With that she turned and stomped out of the study.

  Shock flattened the professor’s features. “Why is that one so upset? Does she

  not believe me? Does she think I stole it?”

  Jack didn’t know what Weezy believed at that moment, but he said, “I don’t

  think so. She thinks she’l never see it again. Do you real y think we’l get it back?”

  “Of course. The Smithsonian wil find it, I promise you. It has simply been

  misplaced.”

  Jack wasn’t buying. He didn’t know who ran the Smithsonian, but since it was on

  the mal by the Capitol, he was pretty sure it was the government. The man in the suit in the Barrens last night—he worked for the government. Jack

  didn’t know what branch, or whether state or federal, but the way he gave orders to the state trooper made Jack pretty sure he was with some high-up

  agency.

  High up enough to send one of its people into the Smithsonian to steal a

  package between the mailroom and the professor’s “col eague”?

  Absolutely.

  “You have our phone numbers, right?”

  The professor patted his desktop. “Yes-yes. Right in here.”

  “Good. Please cal me first if you hear anything, okay? Good news or bad news, cal me first?”

  “If you wish, of course. But I am sure it wil be good news.”

  Jack was just as sure of the opposite.

  He found Weezy out on the sidewalk, getting on her bike. She had an angry expression and tears in her eyes.

  “This is al your fault, Jack. I just wanted to keep it, but no, you had to talk me into letting other people look at it.”

  “Me?” He had trouble hiding his shock. “We both agreed we wanted to find out what it was, and the only way to do that was to show it to people who

  might know.”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s al your fault. I hate you, Jack! HATE YOU!”

  Hateme? Jack felt as if he’d been slapped in the face. How could she hate him? He hadn’t lost the pyramid.

  As she started pedaling her bike back toward 206, Carson Toliver pul ed his convertible in by the curb.

  “Hey, Weezy,” he cal ed.

  Without looking at him she yel ed, “Shut up and leave me alone!” as she passed.

  He blinked in surprise and looked at Jack. “What’s up with her?”

  “She’s having a bad day.”

  He smiled. “Oh. I get it. I know al about that from my sister.”

  Jack started pedaling away. “Yeah,” he said around the lump in his throat.

  Let Toliver think what he wanted. Jack wasn’t going to try to explain.

  9

  He found Weezy on the other side of 206. She’d stopped and was waiting for him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, head down, staring at the ground. “That was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t mean it.”

  Jack felt the lump in his throat start to shrink, but he kept cool. Couldn’t let on how she’d gotten to him.

  “So you don’t real y hate me?”

  She looked up at him. “I could never hate you. I’m just mad at the world right now and I needed someone to blame and you were closest. I never should

  have said that.”

  Jack hid his relief. “Forget it. I knew you didn’t mean it.”

  Not true. Crossing the highway he’d been trying to imagine life in this tiny town without Weezy to talk to and hang out with.

  “Besides,” he added, “it was part mine too.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t seem upset.”

  He shrugged. “What’s the point? Getting upset isn’t going to help us get it back.”

  “You’re too logical. Maybe that’s what made me lose it.” She shook her head. “There must be somethingwe can do.”

  “You mean, like go to Washington and help them search?”

  “Of course not. It’s gone from the Smithsonian. They’l never find it there. It’s probably back in the cube, waiting to be used for whatever it’s used for, or

  buried again.”

  The cube and the pyramid … hundreds of miles apart, yet both stolen, and both thefts within hours of each other. It smacked of an organization with a

  long reach, which fel right into line with Weezy’s conspiracy theories.

  “If they are back together,” Jack said, “I’l bet they’re right here in town.”

  Her eyes widened. “Where?”

  “In the Lodge.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Lodge is involved.”

  Jack remembered what his brother had said about messing with the Lodge, how they had influence in high places. Tom wasn’t an ideal source, but he

  seemed to know the score on the Lodge.

  He added, “Maybe they’re doing it themselves, or maybe they’re just pul ing the strings, but they’re involved. Gotta be.”

  Weezy was nodding. “You’re right. The Septimus Order has lodges al over the country—al over the world.” Her eyes narrowed. “You told Mister

  Brussard that the pyramid had gone to U of P?”

  “Yeah. Wednesday night when I showed it to Steve.”

  “The Lodge must have someone inside. They might have tried to steal the pyramid there but found out it had been shipped to the Smithsonian. So they

  had one of their people in Washington grab it from the mailroom. Then, after it’s stolen, someone starts digging up the mound, and while that’s going on,

  someone steals the cube and everything related to it.”

  “Not everything,” Jack reminded her.

  “Right.” She smiled without humor. “I remember that look you gave me when I handed you the copies. You thought I was crazy.”

  “Crazy, no. But definitely …” He searched for the word. “Eccentric.”

  Another smile, this one warmer. “Eccentric I accept.” She sighed. “But just say al that’s true, what can we do about it?”

  “Haven’t a clue. No way we can get into the Lodge for a look. The place is like a fortress.”

  And even if he could find a way in, Jack doubted he had the nerve to make use of it. He had a feeling he might never get out.