The Secret of Rover (30 page)

The truth of this was instantly obvious. Their prey had slipped through their hands. They'd had Trixie, and they had lost her.

It was very hard to bear. Katie seldom cried, but now David saw with surprise that her eyes were filling.

“We tried,” he said. “Stuff happens.”

“But why does it happen to
us
?” Katie asked in a thick voice as the tears began to roll down. “It's
always
us—and why? First our parents—What are you looking at?”

The light beside them had turned red. Everybody had braked and a line of idling cars was stacking up, waiting for the green.

David's eyes were fixed on these cars. Katie's gaze followed his. The second car in line was a black SUV. Its front fender was missing. Where the fender ought to be was a deep dent.

Both of them lifted their eyes to the windshield. Hair was behind the wheel. Nose was in the passenger seat. The back of the car was shrouded in tinted privacy glass, but that did not matter. They did not need to see to know who was inside.

“They must have gotten turned around and circled the block,” said David in a low voice. “But it's OK—just walk. Walk back toward the house. They won't notice we're here.”

But Katie did not walk toward the house. Instead she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders so that she stood very tall.

“I want them to notice,” she said with composure. The tears had not yet dried on her face, but her voice was strong and clear. She marched across the sidewalk to the SUV, peered into the rear passenger window, and rapped smartly on the glass. Then she stepped back and waited.

There was a brief pause. Then the door opened. Inside was Trixie. The familiar oily smile slid around on her face on its slick coat of syrup.

To their astonishment, Trixie opened her arms toward Katie, as if to fold her into a great big hug. “Honey?” she said. “So good to see you? We were so, so worried!” She turned to loop David into the same slippery smile. “You too!”

Katie and David let Trixie's open arms hang empty as they stared. They'd had weeks to consider what it might be like to come face-to-face with her again. They had imagined this moment many times and many ways. They had imagined Trixie shouting, Trixie snarling, Trixie shooting.

But this?

Trixie dropped her arms. Then she seemed to notice the traces of tears on Katie's face. “Oooh, you're sad,” she said with a little pout of sympathy. She gave the seat beside her a comfortable pat. “Come. You kids just get in the car, and we'll drive you home.”

Uh-oh.

Katie took a big step backward. “No thanks,” she said, shaking her head.

The light was still red. Nose rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and glanced nervously up and down the street.

Trixie ignored him. She continued her talk with Katie. It was all back: the black brows that arched coaxingly up her forehead; the wheedling question marks where they did not belong; the laugh like splintering glass.

“That little house?” Trixie said. “Where we put you, to keep you safe?”

David needed a moment to figure this one out. When he did, he was appalled. The house with the rats, that was
to keep them safe
? But Trixie was still talking.

“We went back there to help you?” she said. “And you were gone. Gone! We were so scared! We thought someone would get you and hurt you. And I felt worst of all, because your mom and dad? They told me to take care of you! So!” Trixie laughed her brittle laugh. “Now we'll take you home.”

“That's funny,” said Katie. “My mom and dad told
me
not to get in cars with child abusers.”

“Get in now!” Nose said menacingly.

Trixie turned her head briefly in Nose's direction. Her broad smile did not falter. “Shut up,” she said through her gleaming teeth.

The traffic light ahead of them turned green, but Trixie, unhurried, turned back to Katie. “Honey,” she repeated, ignoring the light. “Nobody here is mad at you? We're just glad we found you!”

The cars in front of the black SUV rolled forward. The cars behind it began to honk. Katie took another step backward.

“Trixie.” Hair spoke up in her nasal voice. “Da light. Id's chadgig.”

Trixie continued to speak to Katie, and she continued to smile. Now, though, her voice was growing just a tiny bit tight. “We're running out of time, sweetie,” she said very softly. “Don't make me come out and get you.”

“Suit yourself,” said Katie, and she stepped back again.

Trixie's smile vanished. “You little—” And with a grunt, she swung her short, heavy body out of the car, planted her feet on the pavement, and rose to her full, if brief, height.

As she did so, Katie gave a strange snap to her wrist. A small silvery capsule slid out from her sleeve. As Trixie lunged, Katie raised her arm and released a blast of noxious mace straight into Trixie's eyes.

Trixie gave a hoarse shout and clutched at her face. She dropped to her knees and collapsed on the ground, rolling in agony.

“That does it!” cried Nose, and he flung open his door and strode out of the car. But he did not make it to the sidewalk. Instead, he tripped headlong and landed nose-first on the pavement. There was a sickening crunch and a blood-curdling cry as this already-broken part of his body shattered yet again.

David withdrew the ankle that he had deftly slipped under Nose's feet and shook his head, disgusted with himself. He hated to resort to such primitive tactics, but when you aren't armed . . .

Now shouts of alarm rose from the honking cars behind them and doors began to slam. Adults ran to the children's aid. In the hubbub, Katie and David almost forgot about Hair. Fortunately, she reminded them.

“Dode shoot!” she called, putting up her hands in surrender. “Please dode shoot.”

“Oh,” said Katie happily. “I almost didn't remember!” And reaching down to Trixie's writhing body, she patted her pockets and extracted the gun. As she did so, a purple flash caught her eye. She tucked the gun under her arm, grasped Trixie's wrist, and tugged the ring off her finger.

But by that time she and David were surrounded. A pantsuited woman who had leaped from a beige sedan folded Katie into a tight embrace. A young man with
tattooed arms raced to the driver's-side door and pulled Hair from her seat. A man clutching a cell phone yanked David away from Nose's prone body. Planting his foot on Nose's back, the man barked, “Don't get any ideas, buddy!”

All three of their pursuers now lay facedown on the pavement. Katie wriggled out of her rescuer's grasp and made her way to David's side. “Nice footwork,” she said.

“Don't start,” he retorted testily. “I totally could have used a gun.” Then he sighed. Just thinking about that gun made him remember Alex. Despite their success, David had a feeling that his uncle would not be happy.

He turned to the man with the cell. The guy was still hovering over Nose on a personal mission to prevent him from getting up, ever in this lifetime.

“Um, borrow your phone?” said David wearily. “I think I'd better make a call.”

David was more right than he knew. It turned out that no one was happy. Katie and David thought this was more than a little unfair, seeing as how they had caught three dangerous armed fugitives. Thanks to them, Trixie, Nose, and Hair were all under arrest.

But back at the safe house, no one seemed particularly interested in this good news. All they wanted to talk about was how Trixie had found them and how Katie and David had gotten out.

“Um, by opening the door?” said David.

All that afternoon the police and the State Department people investigated. Everybody was questioned. The Katkajanians were interrogated down at the station. Apparently—or so Katie and David were later told—Trixie and Nose wouldn't talk, but the clueless Hair did. From her they learned that David had been right about what happened the night the kids and Uncle Alex met Alicia at the State Department. When the cops went out to search for the three thugs, the thugs themselves were dining peaceably at an Italian restaurant. After their dinner they had retrieved the black SUV, slipped back to the State Department, and followed the Bowdens to the safe house.

The police also questioned the owners of the yellow house across the street. They turned out to be a harmless older couple. This couple was horrified to learn that the new cleaning lady who had knocked on their door—telling a hard-luck story and begging for a job—was actually a wanted international criminal.

While all this was being discovered, Mario and his team were busy at the safe house. There they had a long, private meeting with Alex, who was furious to learn that there was no other residence to which he and Katie and David could be moved, now that this one had been compromised. Even through the closed door Katie and David could hear their uncle's uncharacteristically raised voice.

When that meeting ended, Mario, the laptop woman,
and the guards with the tiny microphones swarmed over the place, replacing locks, tightening procedures and, of course, phoning and typing furiously. Before they left, they sent Curtis and Manny packing. A new pair, who looked much more dangerous, took their places.

But it wasn't just the Katkajanians and the neighbors and the safe house that got worked over. Katie and David did too. Late that night, when everyone had gone home and the house was quiet again, they were called to the living room for a long lecture from their uncle Alex. Alicia sat beside him, backing him up as he alternately ranted and wrung his hands.

The point of Alex's lecture was that the kids should never do anything like what they'd done that day—never, ever again.

“I know you got them,” said Alex, who could tell that Katie and David were not happy. “That's not the point.”

“Funny, we thought it was,” said David.

“I'm glad about that part,” said Alex, correcting himself. “Don't get me wrong.”

“We're both glad,” Alicia chimed in. “It's just that you took a terrible risk. When we think what might have happened to you, leaving the house like that . . .”

“What if Trixie hadn't gotten out of the car?” demanded Alex. “What if she'd pulled you in, instead?”

“Look, we've been all over this,” said Katie. “We won't do it again, OK?”

“We can't do it again,” said David angrily. “We're locked in now.”

This was perfectly true. The State Department's new locks could be opened only with codes, even from the inside of the house, and these codes had not been shared with David and Katie.

“We're locked in,” he repeated. “And why? I mean, we're not in danger anymore! Nobody's after us now. We got 'em! In fact,” he added, warming to his topic, “why do we have to stay here at all? Why can't we just go home, at this point?”

Katie and David actually knew the answer to this. The idea had already been discussed, and Alex was firmly opposed to it. Bad things had happened in their house, he said—things it would scare them to remember. And the Katkajanians had trashed the place. Alex was sure the children would find it upsetting to see what had become of their home.

“Not now,” Alex said after a pause.

“We can clean it up!” argued David.

“Eventually,” said Uncle Alex. “But for now we want you to stay here. Just until this is all over.”

“You mean, just till you find our mom and dad,” said Katie.

“Right,” said Alex.

Ah, thought David. This got them to the main point—the big, ugly problem that lay behind this whole business.
He and Katie had no parents, and nobody seemed to know what to do about that. David had been perched on the edge of the sofa, but now he threw himself back into it and fixed his gaze stonily at the ceiling.

“Uncle Alex?” Katie's voice was polite, but there was pleading in it too. “And Alicia? I'm not mad about the locks—really, I'm not. And it's OK with me to live here for now. I mean, it's OK with
me
,” she repeated, glancing at David. “But about Mom and Dad. When do you think you'll find them?”