Hunted (5 page)

I flicked through the other items – an old Mac lipstick . . . a tiny vial of perfume that had long since lost its scent . . . some papers, including copies of my parents’ marriage certificate and my birth certificate . . . and a little Tiffany appointments diary of my mom’s from the year Dad died.

When Aunt Patrice first gave me the diary when I was about eleven, I pored over it for days, hoping for some insight into my mom’s personality. But it was just a collection of evening dates with my dad and lunches with friends, plus a bunch of beauty appointments. I guess Patrice wouldn’t have given it to me if it had reflected my mom’s actual state of mind. She’d explained, a year or so later, how my mom had been sick in the head when she died . . . how she hadn’t meant to do it . . . how it had been a cry for help . . .

It had taken me a while to realise she was telling me my mom had killed herself out of grief over my dad. Now, with a sick jolt, I wondered if my mom’s fears that my dad had been murdered had driven her to suicide.

I caught myself in the mirror . . . anxious-eyed. Maybe Mom and I had similar shaped faces, but that was about it. I used to hate my own colouring . . . the way it made me stand out everywhere. But more recently, I’d come to like looking different. I loved the way people often did a double take when I walked past.

I turned to August in Mom’s Tiffany diary. My dad had died at the end of the month – after which, I already knew, the entries stopped. I looked through the first week of the month. The appointments were mostly as before . . . highlights and a blow-dry on the 3rd, then lunch with someone called Laura afterwards, plus cocktails on the evening of the 6th. How weird that Mom’s life was about to be turned upside down and she didn’t know it. The note on August 7th caught my eye.

August 7th was
Nico’s
birthday . . . He must be the ‘birth’ referred to.

I turned the page to the next week.

A meeting with her personal shopper . . . another lunch with Laura . . .

W to Hub
was written again on Monday and Thursday and Friday. And again on the Monday and Wednesday of the following week.

That Wednesday afternoon was the day my dad had died.

Patrice had said the Hub was the headquarters of his work for the Medusa Project – and that Dad had gone there to speak to the guy in charge, Geri’s boss, but that the man hadn’t believed my dad’s fears.

If I could find out exactly what my dad had said, it would give me a genuine lead. I knew from our Medusa Project briefings that notes were
always
taken in meetings . . . often recordings, too.

I just had to find out where the Hub archives were stored and access them.

I could have asked Geri, of course, but Patrice had made it clear that Geri thought my dad was paranoid, too. She wasn’t going to tell me anything.

Downstairs I heard the front door shut and an excited chatter fill the living room. Damn it, what was everyone doing back here so soon?

My phone beeped at me. Absent-mindedly, I checked the text message.

My blood froze.

The text was short, but to the point.

6: The break-in

For a second I felt nothing, then fear swamped me like a tidal wave.

My whole body shook and my breath just seemed to keep on going in and in. I stared at the text, the words burning themselves into my brain.

Who had sent it?

The message came up as blocked.

I let my breath out in a long, shaky sigh as Ketty and Ed burst into the room. Ketty was laughing. I jumped up, my face flooding red. The laugh died in Ketty’s mouth.

‘What’s the matter?’ she said.

‘Nothing.’

Ed stared at me. Was he trying to catch my eye and mind-read me?

‘Don’t even freakin’ think about it, Ed,’ I snapped.

Ed raised his eyebrows. ‘What?’ he said innocently.

‘That freaky mental thing you do,’ I said.

‘Jesus, Dylan.’ Ketty glared at me. ‘What’s your problem?’

I almost blurted it out. But I was still in too much shock from the text to be able to talk about it.

‘Nothing,’ I muttered. ‘What are you doing back here?’

‘Our parents wanted to see where we were staying,’ Ketty said.

Ed glanced at Mom’s old Tiffany diary lying on the carpet at my feet. ‘Why are you looking at such an old diary?’

I shook my head.

‘Oh, it’s your mum’s diary, isn’t it?’ Ketty clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, Dylan, I’m sorry.’

I glanced at her stricken face.
Jeez
, she felt sorry for me because I didn’t have a mom and dad to take me out. The thought made me bristle.

‘Whatever,’ I said. ‘It’s no big deal.’

As I spoke, I remembered my earlier idea.

I took a deep breath. At least my body had stopped shaking.

‘I was just looking at some of my dad’s old stuff,’ I said. ‘You don’t happen to know where the Hub was?’

‘The what?’ Ketty wrinkled her nose.

‘It’s where the original Medusa Project was based,’ I said.

‘Central London somewhere,’ Ed said.

We both stared at him.

‘Geri told us about it ages ago,’ Ed went on. ‘The Hub was set up by the government to look into all sorts of unexplained phenomena. There were three teams – Geri headed up the one looking into psychic activity. Remember? Her code name was Medusa, that’s why, when she found William Fox and backed his research, they called it the Medusa Project. The Hub was where all three teams were based.’

‘Geri never told me all that,’ I said.

‘Nor me,’ Ketty added.

‘Oh.’ Ed made a face. ‘Maybe I mind-read it, then. Geri got me to mind-read her a lot a few weeks ago . . .’ He turned to Ketty. ‘. . . While you went off to find your brother, remember?’

Ketty nodded. ‘Why d’you want to know where the Hub was, Dylan?’

‘No reason,’ I said. I didn’t want to explain. After all, if it
was
Ed’s father who’d killed my dad, then I didn’t want him or Ketty to work out what I was doing.

A moment later Nico turned up saying that their families were asking for them, so Ketty and Ed followed him downstairs. I lay on my bed.

What was I doing? Was I still going to go to this Hub building, check out the records of my dad’s meeting with the guy in charge and find out who my dad suspected of being after him? Even after that vicious text I’d been sent?

My mind went over it again.
Stop looking or u die.

I shivered. I had to go. I couldn’t rest until I found out what, exactly, had happened to my dad.

Downstairs, Alex called out my name. I ignored her, my mind intent on how to find out the exact location of this ‘Hub’ without involving Ed or Ketty or Nico any further.

Another yell. Irritated, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went downstairs. They were all there, standing in the hallway as I walked down.

Ketty was holding hands with Nico, her parents on her other side. Ed and his dad were next to them. All six looked up as I approached. Then Ed’s mum broke off her conversation with Jez and Alex to turn and face me, too. I glanced along the row to the end, where Geri and Uncle Fergus were talking in low voices.

I looked back at Ed’s dad. He was thick-set and square-jawed and, unlike Ketty’s dad, looked extremely uncomfortable in his suit. Could he really have murdered my father?

Everyone stared at me.

‘What’re you looking at?’ I said.

Geri stepped forward. ‘You look nice, Dylan, dear.’

I glanced sideways, to the mirror that hung at the bottom of the stairs.

I guess I did look good – I was wearing a green dress that scooped and flowed over my baby. No make-up or shoes, but I had on Mom’s white-gold wedding ring, as usual, plus her silver bangles and long earrings from the market that picked out the tiny sequins in the bodice of the dress.

The group around Nico and Ketty were all still staring at me. I glanced at them sharply. Had they been talking about me?

Without thinking, I looked Ed in the eye, inviting him to communicate.

Whoosh.
I felt him surge into my mind.

What were they saying about me?
I demanded in thought-speak.

Nothing
, Ed thought-spoke.

It suddenly struck me that I didn’t want Ed anywhere near any of my thoughts.

Get out of my freakin’ head.

Ed broke the connection.

I looked around, furious and humiliated, and hoping no one had noticed that little exchange. Ketty had, for sure. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, watching me warily.

Suddenly I felt overwhelmed. Tears threatened to well up for no damn reason. I forced them down and fixed my gaze on Uncle Fergus. Of all the people in the room, he was the one least likely to have hurt my dad.

‘So how d’you like our shack in the woods, Uncle?’ I said.

The words came out more harshly than I meant. Uncle Fergus looked slightly startled. I reached the bottom step and went over to him. To my relief, the others resumed their chatter. Geri turned to say something to Jez and Fergus smiled at me.
Jeez
, he had that same wary look in his eye that Ketty had just a few seconds earlier.

Why did everyone always look at me like I was on the verge of attacking them?

‘This is a nice cottage,’ Fergus said. ‘How do you find it?’

‘By remembering where it is when I leave,’ I said with a grin.

Fergus looked startled. Again.

‘Er . . . I meant are you enjoying it here?’ he said.

Jeez.
Why was this so difficult?

‘I know what you meant,’ I said. ‘It’s fine here. Awesome.’

There was an awkward silence. At least all the others were talking to each other, creating background noise. I twisted the ring on my finger.

‘I remember your mother wearing that,’ Fergus said softly.

I shot a look at him. He doesn’t look anything like my dad – darker hair and eyes and without that wild expression my dad has in every picture – but there’s something similar . . . something in the curve of his mouth . . . Maybe I didn’t need to go to the Hub. Maybe Fergus had the answers I needed.

I lowered my voice, not wanting Geri to hear my suspicions. ‘Did my dad . . . I mean, how was he before he died?’ I said.

Fergus frowned. ‘He loved you very much, Dylan. I don’t know what—’

‘Was he happy then, or worried about stuff?’

Fergus’s frown deepened. ‘Look, Dylan, I don’t know who’s been talking to you, but you have to remember that your dad wasn’t an easy man. He saw problems where there weren’t any and—’

‘You mean he was paranoid?’ I said. ‘Just before he died? Imagining people were after him?’

‘Er, well . . . yes, he
did
imagine that and it really wasn’t true . . .’ Fergus looked extremely uncomfortable.

He was obviously hating talking about this to me.

He cleared his throat. ‘We’ve just dropped in to see where you’re staying, but we’re going out for dinner soon. Would you like to join Nico and me?’ he asked.

‘No thanks.’ I pretended to yawn. ‘I’m totally whacked.’

A minute later the others started fussing and flapping over their coats. I went back upstairs. As I reached my room, I could feel Ed pushing into my head again.

What d’you want?
I thought-spoke with a snarl.
You know this remote mind-reading of yours is a total pain in the ass.

Just seeing if you’re okay, Dylan.
There was a trepidation in Ed’s tone that was really irritating.

Why is everyone so freakin’ concerned about me all of a sudden?
I thought-spoke.
Why can’t you all just leave me alone?

I just remembered
, he went on.
That Hub place you were interested in was in Great Portland Street – an MoD building.

Oh, thanks
, I thought-spoke back.
Why are you telling me?

Because I know you want to go there . . . in secret.

Have you been sneaking into my head?
I felt furious . . . then scared. What else had Ed seen? Did he know I suspected his father of killing mine?

I haven’t mind-read anything. And I’m not mind-reading you now. I’m holding back, just sitting on the edge of your thoughts waiting for you to communicate with me. So no, I don’t have a clue why you want to go to the Hub.

It’s still real rude of you to—

I’m only trying to help
. Ed sounded angry now. I’d only seen him lose his temper once before – when we were in Africa and that girl he’d liked – Luz – had been killed.
You know you might fool all the others with your tough-guy act. But I know you’re not really like that . . . That’s what I was looking for before, back in the woods after the training mission you screwed up . . . I
did
mind-read you, then. I wanted to see what was underneath . . . and I saw the truth – you’re just as vulnerable as everyone else
. His thought-speech softened.
So . . . so I don’t mind coming with you to the Hub if you like – neither do Ketty or Nico
.