The Caledonian Inheritance (The Athena Effect)

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The Caledonian Inheritance (The Athena Effect) Page 19

by Anderson, Derrolyn


  “No. He’s with Calvin. They’re out at the motorcross races in Mendocino. They won’t be back till later.”

  Ramon kept looking at his watch, growing increasingly agitated.

  Cali could see how anxious he was, and her voice was sympathetic, “I talked to her this morning, and she told me about the suicide at the jail… I hope everything worked out okay for you. She felt really badly about getting you into trouble.”

  He shook his head. “I told her not to worry about it. Did she tell you how she saved a little girl’s life?”

  “Yes, but she was still upset about causing you problems.”

  Ramon shook his head angrily. “As far as I’m concerned that guy got off easy. He deserved to die.”

  “That’s exactly what I told her,” Cali smiled wryly. “Layla’s just… She’s sensitive. She’s been through a lot in the past year.”

  “Like what?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair. Cali could see how he burned with curiosity and she studied him, wondering how much she should say. After all, Layla’s secrets were hers to keep or tell. “She told you about how our synesthesia works, right?”

  He looked at her with admiration. “Yes… But it seems more like magic to me.”

  She smiled wryly, “I suppose so… Did she tell you how her and Michael were brought up?”

  “A little,” he said. “That Teddy guy sounds like he was a real jerk.”

  Cali nodded in agreement. “So you know about the professor.”

  “Enough, ” he said with contempt.

  “Yeah well, I was lucky enough to avoid being raised by him. My parents ran. They hid me from him as long as they could.”

  “Hid you from him? Why?”

  Cali’s eyes narrowed as she wondered exactly how much he really knew, but she realized that she’d piqued his curiosity even more. In her opinion, Layla had already told him her most shocking secret, so she didn’t see the harm in filling in a few more details. She got up from the table, fetching the coffee pot.

  “Another cup?” she asked.

  When she sat back down she started at the beginning, telling him how their parents took part in a drug trial, testing a psychotropic compound that Professor Reed had created.

  “He believed that it held the key to unlocking unlimited human potential, and he chose the brightest graduate students he could find to participate. He named his experiments after Athena, the goddess of wisdom.”

  She told him everything she’d learned, from the student’s suicides to the professor’s being fired from the university. “The worst part is how he used Layla and Michael after their mother’s death.”

  “Used them?” Ramon asked.

  Caledonia nodded gravely. “He trained Layla to manipulate people, and from the time she was a small child he used her to embezzle money. That’s how he financed his research all these years.” She went on to explain how he isolated and manipulated the twins, punishing any disobedience by separating them.

  “What a bastard!” Ramon exclaimed.

  Caledonia told him how after her parent’s death he’d tried to collect her as well, and by escaping him and eventually returning home she’d discovered her true connection with Layla and Michael. “You see, it all started when our grandmother’s house burned down… For all of us.”

  He finally exhaled hard. “That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

  Caledonia shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

  “That’s for sure,” Ramon said, thinking about what he’d already seen Layla do. He was finally getting some insight into some of the things about her that had always mystified him, and the truth was turning out to be far more bizarre than anything he could have possibly imagined.

  “Whoa,” he said, shaking his head with disgust. “I should have known. I could see there was something weird going on the way they were talking to each other.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “Layla and Professor Reed,” he said with a frown. “Teddy. That guy is a total creep.”

  Caledonia straightened up in her chair. “What? You met him?”

  “We went to see him,” he replied.

  “When?” she was alarmed. “Why?’

  “Last weekend. We went to the city… Layla wanted to ask him about her father… Her real father.”

  “What did he tell her?”

  “He said he’d call if he found anything out.”

  “She gave him her number?” her voice rose along with the hairs on the back of her neck.

  “She kinda had to… He didn’t have a phone.”

  Cali raced to the counter for her purse, snatching out her phone and dialing Layla’s number. “It goes right to voicemail,” she said ominously. “She usually answers.”

  “I know,” Ramon agreed in frustration.

  Now Cali was even more agitated than Ramon, pacing. “I told her he couldn’t be trusted… I warned her to stay away from him… There’s no telling what he’s capable of…”

  Ramon stood up, “What do you mean? What would he do?”

  She looked at him with a grim set to her jaw, “He wants her back, and he’s not above taking her against her will.”

  “You mean kidnapping her?”

  Caledonia pressed her lips together in distress. “It’s not like her to just disappear like this… We have to find her right away.”

  “Do you really think he’d go that far?” Ramon asked again, in a tone that demanded a straight answer.

  Her eyes met his, and the fear in them scared him more than ever. When she spoke her voice was angry, “He’s a desperate man. He’s had no way of making money ever since–” she stopped herself.

  “Ever since what?”

  Caledonia looked deeply into his eyes, evaluating his character. She felt his concern and worry, and saw that his cold green fear matched her own. She could taste the bitter dread welling up within him, and she realized that he truly had feelings for Layla. She decided to trust him.

  Cali nodded. “Somebody else took her away from the professor. Let’s just say, things went from bad to worse for Layla.”

  ~

  A couple more long hours passed, and by then there was no denying that something was very wrong. Ramon was ready to rush out to San Francisco and break down the door to the professor’s place, but Caledonia stopped him.

  “He’d never keep her there… he knows it’s the first place I’d look.”

  “Where then?” Ramon was about to crawl out of his skin, anxious to take action.

  “I don’t know,” she lamented, looking down at the phone in her hand. She remembered how Max had used Layla’s phone to find her, and she felt completely helpless. “I wish we had a way to track her down.”

  Ramon’s eyes flew open wide. “We do!” He snatched his keys, “I gotta go!”

  “Where?” she asked.

  “Down to the station.”

  “What for?” Cali asked.

  He paused for a second, flushing teal blue with shame. “We installed a GPS tracker on her car.”

  “We?”

  “The police… The DEA. There are trackers on all of your cars.”

  “I see,” Cali didn’t bat an eyelash. She wasn’t surprised.

  “Look– I’m sorry, but we had to know if you had any dealings with the cartel. You’re no longer suspects, but we still have a thirty day warrant.”

  “So we can find Layla’s car?”

  “Yes! The device sends a in signal every few minutes, but I have to log in on the police computer to get the latest co-ordinates.”

  Caledonia grabbed her purse, racing for the door. “Lets go!”

  ~

  Agent Kim had stayed late at the police station, taking over the desk in Sherriff Brown’s Office. She’d been out to the suspect’s ranch to oversee the evidence collection, and had personally inspected the barn and grounds. Finding the girl in the dark must have been like finding a needle in a haystack, and everything she saw raised more red flags.


  All of her suspicions led back to the red-haired girl.

  Layla Reed. She’d run a complete background on her, but it was as if she’d been invisible her whole life and then simply materialized, fully grown, in the past year. The same thing applied to her twin brother, and aside from an impressive amount of on-line banking activity on his part, the more she dug into their backgrounds the less she found. There were people in the witness protection program that were less well hidden.

  She watched the recording of the jail cell encounter again and again, turning the facts over and over in her mind.

  Officer Ruiz was either mistaken or lying when he claimed that the suspect had called out to him and his date; the tape clearly showed the couple making a direct line to the holding cell. He also told her they returned to the station to pick up his bankcard, but it was pretty clear from the surveillance tape that he never made it into his office to retrieve anything.

  And he’d paid for a pizza that very night with a bankcard.

  She watched the footage over and over, looking for a clue as to how Layla could have possibly extracted a confession so quickly. She knew that crack interrogators took days to break down a suspect’s defenses, and yet this girl had reduced the man to a quivering mass of jello with the snap of her fingers. Even the most talented FBI profiler needed more than a few minutes to figure out how to approach a subject.

  “Impressive,” agent Kim said out loud to the empty room. The more she thought about it, the more eager she was to begin her interrogation.

  Officer Ruiz had been stonewalling her all day, promising to bring the girl in for questioning first thing in the morning. She’d been calling Layla’s phone all afternoon to set up an appointment with no luck, and she decided that this simply would not do.

  She would go to Layla before Ramon had a chance to coach her.

  Agent Kim knew she was onto something, and like her father always said, once she sunk her teeth into a problem, she was as stubborn as a mule. She wasn’t about to let this thing drop without getting to the bottom of it.

  “There’s no time like the present,” she spoke again, going back into the records to pull Layla’s address. She gathered her things and left the station, passing by a lone receptionist on the way out with a curt nod. She got into her car and started it, formulating her line of questioning on the drive.

  Only a few seconds after she pulled out of the station, Ramon’s car pulled back in.

  ~

  Chapter Twenty-One

  AGENT KIM

  ~

  A brisk knock on the door pulled Michael’s head out the refrigerator. “Coming!” he called, ambling over to the door, fully expecting to find Layla loaded down with one too many shopping bags to get a handle on her keys.

  Instead, a sylphlike beauty stood scrutinizing him like he was a bug under a microscope. She wore a no-nonsense pantsuit, carried a briefcase, and occupied his porch with an air of authority. Her glossy black hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, accentuating her high forehead and almond eyes.

  He was immediately intimidated, stammering, “M-may I h-help you?”

  “You must be the brother,” she said, extending her hand for a shake. “I’m agent Kim, with the FBI. I’m here to speak to Layla Reed.” She held out her identification for him to inspect.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Regarding what?” he asked.

  “There was an incident at the police station last night... I have a few questions.”

  “Sh-she’s not here,” he managed to choke out.

  “When do you expect her back?”

  “I don’t know… I just got in the door myself.”

  She took a step closer, not about to take no for an answer. “Do you mind if I wait here for her?”

  “Right now?” he asked.

  “There’s no time like the present,” she said.

  “Uhm… Sure, okay.” Michael stood in shock as she walked past him and into the house. She turned to look to him for some direction, so he gestured towards the living room.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  Calvin was in the garage, arranging their riding gear onto shelves when Michael slipped in, closing the door behind him with a panicked look on his face.

  “You’re not going to believe this, but some FBI agent chick is sitting on our couch!” he stage whispered. “She says that she wants to ask Layla about something! Did Cali say anything to you?”

  Cal shook his head no. He’d last seen Caledonia over breakfast, and she’d promised to cook them all a surprise dinner. It wasn’t like her to forget something like that, and he’d been uneasy ever since he and Michael had returned to find a dark and empty house. He’d told himself that he was being silly, and that she was probably only out shopping with Layla.

  Now a familiar shiver of fear tingled across his scalp.

  “What should I do?” Michael asked desperately, looking to Calvin for guidance.

  Calvin reached for his phone. “Go talk to her… Keep her busy, and I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  ~

  Ramon pulled up in front of the hotel, and it didn’t take them long to stumble upon Layla’s abandoned car.

  “Now what?” Cali asked.

  “Lets go ask around at the restaurant,” Ramon suggested.

  They questioned the hostess and both waitresses on staff, but no one remembered seeing a red-haired girl that day. “We sent the day shift home an hour ago,” a waitress explained, “If you come back tomorrow they might have seen something.”

  They stepped outside, and both of them automatically looked towards Layla’s car and back up at the hotel.

  The phone in Cali’s pocket rang and she grabbed it, checking it and telling Ramon, “It’s Calvin.” She stepped aside to explain where they were and what was going on. Ramon listened as she tried to reassure an obviously frantic Calvin that she’d be careful. It made him even more worried for Layla.

  “I gotta go… I know… Don’t worry, I will. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” She slipped the phone back into her pocket.

  They went into the lobby and approached the front desk, questioning the clerks with no luck. Ramon flashed his badge to summon the manager, and she combed through the computer, shrugging apologetically. “Sorry, no Reed here.” Cali used every bit of her persuasive powers to encourage the staff to remember everyone they’d seen or checked in, but no one could recall seeing Layla or the professor.

  They manager was more than helpful, offering to pull the surveillance footage and go over it with them, but Cali caught Ramon’s eye and shook her head no. “She didn’t come in here,” she said. “They’re all telling the truth.”

  They stepped out into the cool night air and Caledonia slumped with defeat. “Where do we go from here?” she lamented.

  “I have an idea,” Ramon said tersely. Caledonia followed him as he headed back towards the hotel. Instead of returning to the lobby he walked with determination towards the back of the building, passing dumpsters, recycling bins and service trucks.

  “Where are we going?” Cali asked, trotting to keep up with him.

  “Housekeeping,” Ramon replied, “If anyone knows what goes on inside a hotel it’s them.”

  Steam spewed from a vent above an open door, and Caledonia followed him inside, walking past grumbling ice machines and wheeled carts lining a hallway. They finally burst into a room where half a dozen women in maid uniforms were laughing and chattering in Spanish as they folded towels and linens on a large tabletop. The women all looked up skeptically, but when Ramon flashed his badge they froze in alarm.

  He held up his hands in a disarming gesture, “Yo necesito ayuda!”

  Caledonia watched as he spoke, unable to understand the words, but reading their emotional reactions as clear as a bell. The women looked at each other, answering with many different voices. All of them shook their heads in denial.

  Ramon’s heart sank, and he turned to Cali in despair. “I told them a girl wen
t missing, and asked if anyone had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. No one knows anything.”

  Caledonia pointed to one of the women. “She does.”

  ~

  Michael sat down across the room from his unexpected guest awkwardly, not sure of what to say. “Would you like a cup of tea… or something?” he asked.

  Agent Kim hesitated. It had been a long day, and hot tea sounded good. Her professional side told her not to get too cozy, but when he smiled over at her hopefully she nodded. “Yes please.”

  She watched his tall rangy frame as he moved around in the nearby kitchen, noting the resemblance between him and his sister. His hair was rusty red, longish and swept back behind his ears, but his skin was ruddy from time spent out in the sun. He wasn’t heavily built, but the past few months of dirt-bike riding had given his arms some lean muscle, and his shoulders were broad beneath his motocross jersey.

  “Black or green?” he asked.

  “Black,” she replied.

  “English or Irish breakfast?”

  She shrugged, “Is there a difference?”

  “The Irish seems a bit stronger to me… I take mine with milk.”

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  He emerged from the kitchen with a tray holding a teapot and a plate full of cookies. He took a seat alongside her on the couch, pouring them each a cup with a splash of cream. “Sugar?” he asked, a spoon poised over a bowl.

  “Thank you,” she said when he handed her a cup and saucer like he’d been doing it all of his life. “Do you drink a lot of tea?”

  “Not lately,” he replied, “But I grew up with an aficionado.”

  “My parents only liked ginger tea,” she said with a grimace. “For medicinal purposes.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever tried that,” he said politely. He finally held out his hand. “I’m Michael, by the way,” he said.

  She took it, surprised when he gripped hers firmly, “Mina,” she said.

  “Mina,” he repeated.

  A little three-legged dog came over to beg for a treat and he broke off some pieces of his cookie, showing her some tricks he’d taught it. He was so sweet and patient that she decided right then and there that she liked him. She sipped her tea and she found herself talking to him like she was actually socializing, as if she were on a real date or something.

 

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