But today he was being treated. His dad had offered to take him any place he wanted for lunch. Aden had not hesitated. He got an extra large. There was no way to tell when he and his beverage bestie would meet again.
“We should make this a regular father-son bonding event: I do awesome in the game, and you take me for Blizzards.”
Adrian Kent gave his son a look filled with parental disapproval. “You start drinking those things again and you won’t play awesome anymore. And that is not for playing well. You don’t get rewards for doing what you’re supposed to do. You get rewards for things that are beyond what you are supposed to do.”
“Like not fighting in the game?”
“Almost. This,” he said, pointing at the large confectionary drink, “is for not fighting when you had every reason and right to do so.”
Aden stopped midslurp and scrunched his face up in confusion. “I don’t understand. Are you saying fighting would have been OK?”
“Not OK. Understandable. If someone hits you, then you are free to defend yourself. If someone hits someone weaker, you should stop them if you can. But you tried to walk away from the fight. Why?”
Aden shrugged. “I knew it was a good hit, and I didn’t want to cause the team any penalties. It would have hurt the team.”
“And that’s why you’re getting rewarded. You thought it through. Two months ago, you would not have done that.”
It was true. Two months ago, he would have taken those players’ heads off. Of course, Aden realized, two months ago he would have not been playing on the field. Andre would have been. A lot had changed in two months, all starting with the arrival of Madison. Thinking of her brought something to Aden’s mind.
“Dad, where do you work? Where did you find those guys in the alley?”
Mr. Kent leaned back in his chair. “Where did that question come from?”
“Nowhere. It kinda came up at the career fair. My friends thought it was weird I didn’t know.”
A pained expression crossed his dad’s face. “If I had been there as a father the whole time, then you would probably know—if I had a regular job anyway.”
The word “regular” did not escape Aden’s notice. “If you don’t have a regular job, then what type of job do you have?”
“I work for the FBI. I was undercover a lot, though I have a different job with the agency now. Anyway, it’s why I wasn’t around. I should have been, but I wasn’t.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be. That’s what Mom said.” For a moment, the ever-present veneer of the modern “whatever” teenage demeanor cracked. Pain lay beneath it.
“Of course she did,” his father answered, bitterness dripping from the words. “I was young when I met your mom—young and idealistic. I thought what I was doing was important. I thought sacrifices needed to be made by someone, and I chose to be that person. Truth is, your mother does not like playing second fiddle to anything.”
“Why did you come back?”
“Because I realized she couldn’t raise you to be the person I wanted my son to be. So, I quit, sort of. I’m done being a field agent. I train them now.”
Aden nodded then looked around them before speaking again. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Have you ever shot anyone?”
Mr. Kent’s lips formed a hard line. “I’ve been in some dangerous situations, and we’ll just leave it at that.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I asked that.”
“It’s better to ask me than to wonder or assume. I want you to feel you can ask me anything, son. I might not always like the question—or you the answer. You might not even like my reaction, but I still want you to ask, always and anything.”
Aden nodded his affirmation again, then executed a loud slurp through his straw. His Blizzard had reached its optimal melting temperature: soft enough to slurp through the straw without brain freeze, but not too watered down to taste like skim milk. Another question occurred to him.
“So, I guess in the FBI you’re trained to, like, understand someone’s behavior or predict what they’re doing?”
Mr. Kent wrinkled his brows, not sure where his son was going. “Predict is a strong word. I wasn’t a profiler, if that’s what you mean. But I can size people up pretty well.”
Aden considered that for a moment, then plowed ahead. “Could you tell if someone is, um, not into boys?”
Mr. Kent barked out a laugh. He understood the source of Aden’s question. “Son, Madison doesn’t like girls. I can assure you of that.”
“How can you know?”
“Like I said, I can size up people pretty well. One day when you’re not a brainless teenager, you might be able to as well. The real question is ‘Why do you care?’ Isn’t the hot cheerleader showing you attention now?”
“Dad, one, you’re old. Never refer to anyone under the age of eighteen as hot ever again. Two, I don’t know why I asked. The way she lets . . . hey wait! You’re FBI!”
“Yes, we just established that.”
“Is that why you were talking to the cops after the fight and that mother with the missing daughter at the Habitat build?”
“I have friends who work missing persons’ cases. I decided to look into it. Unfortunately, though a parent preferring their child to be missing over drugs versus kidnapped is not much of a choice, there is nothing there. Looks like she is just missing on her own.”
“That’s not true. Maddie discovered a link between her and the other missing girls.”
Mr. Kent sat forward. “What are you talking about? And how did Madison discover that?”
Aden hesitated, realizing he had said too much. Maddie had stiffly avoided all queries from him about the phone call in the library. He could tell she wanted to do more than just avoid talking about it with him. The serious and stern look on his father’s face told him it was too late. He had shown the beans, and now he would have to spill them.
“Your mother might kill me for saying it, but it would be nice to have you in my office over boys, sex, or even drugs.”
Maddie’s lip curled into a sneer. “One, boys are asshats. Two, ew, gross. Three, drugs are for the weak. I’m not weak.”
Once again, Maddie sat across from Dr. Croft. Her parents were at their wit’s end. Maddie was positive that only the thought of ending up in jail for child abuse kept her mother from beating her within an inch of her life. Maddie’s nonchalant attitude about everything had not helped. They were looking to the child psychologist to break through and discover what was happening with her.
Dr. Croft had begun seeing Maddie shortly after the death of her beloved Uncle Z. He was not a blood relative of Maddie’s but like an uncle all the same. The infamous terrorist attack that took his life would have been trauma enough, but sacrificing himself to save Maddie added an extra layer to her suffering. It was severe enough that Dr. Croft had followed Maddie’s family over the course of their many moves and over many years to continue to treat her. The doctor was among a few people who knew her family’s real identity. Maddie had never been a conventional girl, but Zavier’s death had pushed her that much further from normalcy. Conventional therapy would not work on a patient with emotional scars deeper than an ocean trench. Now, her behavior had pushed her parents into needing help as well.
Dr. Croft had provided that help in the form of answers weeks ago, but her parents couldn’t hear them. So, from that standpoint, today’s session was a waste of time as far as Dr. Croft was concerned. Still, she was curious about the casual defiance Madison was showing toward her parents’ authority. Before, she had seen rebellion fueled by anger and frustration over her parents’ refusal to accept the daughter they had, rather than the one they wanted—especially Madison’s mother, Tina.
Now, Dr. Croft saw something different. She sensed a growing dismissal of adult authority and wisdom. She uncrossed her legs, leaned forward in her chair, and fixed a piercing gaze on Maddie. “Is that what this is about—not wanting to be weak?”
Maddie tilted her head and smirked. Dr. Croft was giving her the trademarked shrink compassion face, the one she used when she wanted to drive deep to the core of a problem. It had worked on Maddie for years, but today she was not biting.
“No reason to avoid anything. It was a fight, nothing more. Someone hit a friend. I hit them back.”
“You seem to be hitting a lot of people lately, like you think it solves problems.”
Silently, Maddie rolled her eyes.
“Is that the plan? Fight your way to expulsion? ’Cause that’s where you’re headed—not graduation, expulsion, and then placement into some institution for troubled teens because your mom will not be in any mental state capable of homeschooling you at that point. Not exactly the path to college and scholarships.”
“I’ve got plenty of blood money to pay for college.”
“Cut that bullshit out right now, young lady!”
The expletive had burst from Dr. Croft’s mouth like a thunderclap. The laissez-faire attitude Maddie had affected shattered like fine crystal in the path of a wrecking ball. Dr. Croft did not curse ever.
“You want to waste my time mouthing off or being a smartass, go ahead. It’s your parents’ money. You want to dismiss the love and concern they have for you, their daughter, you can do that as well—nothing special about that. Millions of teens before you have pulled that gambit. But . . . I will not sit here and allow you to disrespect the memory of Zavier, his sacrifice, or the love behind the money he left for your education.”
Maddie’s eyes narrowed at the comment. “I would never—”
“You just did. Blood money? Have you lost your damn mind?”
Dr. Croft’s uncharacteristic outburst left Maddie speechless. Feeling embarrassment rise as she realized the truth in the doctor’s words, Maddie turned away. She felt ashamed. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer above. Forgive me, Uncle Z. I did not mean it like that.
Dr. Croft read her mind. “You think you didn’t mean it. But you did. That’s how you feel about it. The money is worthless because of how you obtained it. Every breath you take is obtained through the same action that gave you that money. Do you feel your life is worthless too?”
“Only if I don’t do something worthy and good with it.” It was not what she meant to say. A simple no was all that was needed. But truth wanted its freedom.
“Madelynne,” Dr. Croft said, calling her by her real name, which she always did, “I feel confident in saying Zavier would expect you to be worthy and good regardless if he were dead or alive. The one thing he cared about more is for you to be alive to have the opportunity to be both.”
Dr. Croft leaned back in her leather chair and let her words wash over Maddie. The young teen closed her eyes and squished them tight as an internal battle raged—a battle she always lost. Twin pools of liquid formed in her eyes, then rolled down her cheeks. She did not cry out, but neither did she try to stop the flow.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Dr. Croft scooted forward in her chair. She reached out and took Maddie’s hands in hers. “Madelynne, you may think your mother brought you in because she doesn’t know what to do with you. Sneaking out of the house last night when you knew you were in trouble already infuriated her. But you’re here because, unlike the other students involved in that fight at the game, your earlier antics have your school’s principal worried. On Monday, I must call and convince him that you are stable. I’ve got to explain to him why you are not some emotionally wrecked teenager who is going to take an AK-47, AR-19, or whatever the hell you call those things, and shoot up the school. Not exactly an easy job, considering you are, in fact, an emotionally wrecked teenager.”
“I got in fights to protect people. I would never do anything like that.”
“I know that. I know you. No one, least of all the man in charge of whether you can continue in school, knows you. I have to convince Principal Devin. I probably can do it. But you have to make my life easier. Honey, you’ve got to help us out. All three of these fights have one common thread. Each time you intervened, it was because you saw someone who was defenseless, outnumbered, or overpowered—just like you were in the theater.”
Maddie began to shake her head in denial, but Dr. Croft’s hand shot up to grab her chin like a vise. She held firm, keeping Maddie’s eyes on her own. “Denying it to me is useless. I know you too well. Wanting to protect people is admirable. However, you cannot do that at the cost of yourself, not when there are other ways to help. Zavier did everything he could to get you to safety. Only when he had no other option did he sacrifice himself. I didn’t know him, but I’m sure he wouldn’t want you on a path of delinquency just to be a twisted version of what you think he would do.”
That was where the mistake was made.
The good doctor had nailed her. She was giving her a glimmer of what her true motivations were. She could feel a mental hand beginning to grasp what was driving her actions, but Dr. Croft had gone too far.
Maddie knew what Zavier would have done. He would have kicked the snot out of those bullies. He would have jumped into the fray without a thought to help his friends. If a former enemy was now a friend, he would defend that person as if they had been friends all along. There was nothing twisted about it. It was true as true north.
A mental gate shot up and closed off whatever message Dr. Croft hoped Maddie would learn. Maddie mimed contemplation with her face. It was a perfect mask.
Then her mother burst into the office, eyes blazing red in fury.
“Madison, explain to me why Tommy is calling my phone, telling me he’s trying to reach you on your other phone. What other phone?”
Foreboding icy cold cascaded through Maddie’s veins. She froze. She had placed the phone in silent mode when she had gotten into the car for the drive to Dr. Croft’s office. Tommy knew her mother did not know about the phone. He knew why she had a phone fit only for retirees stuck in the nineties. If he was calling her mother, it could not be good news.
Maddie ignored her mom, snatched up her bag, and ripped it open. Frantic, she dug through it to reach the phone.
“Where did you get that?” asked her mother when she saw the smartphone in Maddie’s hands. “I said, where—”
“Not now, Mother!” Madison screamed. The ferocity-laden words shocked Tina Jennings and Dr. Croft into silence. The phone showed six missed calls and seven texts demanding she call Tommy. She hit redial. A pit was growing in her stomach.
Tommy answered immediately, dispensed with any greeting, and got right to the point.
Maddie screamed, one hand striking the glass table beside her chair hard enough to shatter it. Allie and Zara were dead.
Lilly was missing.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Maddie was in a fog. All sounds and questions directed toward her sounded like they were coming from underwater in the deep end of the pool. She had no clear recollection of the ride to the emergency room. Her parents, unfortunately, had seen this before. They knew what to do and how to approach her. They did not pepper her with constant questions about how she was feeling. No stupid questions like, “Are you OK?” Her parents knew better.
They left her alone.
Her father had driven them to the hospital and stayed on the phone. Now, her mother handled the hospital intake and triage nurse, while Dr. Croft handled the doctor, who was worried about the cut being a sign of self-harm. Maddie vaguely remembered hearing the name “Adrian.” She remembered that was Aden’s father’s name. She assumed that Aden had been given the news.
Maddie responded to the nurse stitching her up by refusing analgesic for the procedure. Each piercing of skin by the suturing needle brought a silent grimace but felt good. Pain meant she was alive. Her life continued while Allie’s and Zara’s had ended before life had started for them.
Tommy did not have many details. All he had related to her through frantic, sobbing bursts was that their friends had been shot. Police were
operating on a theory of a robbery gone wrong. Time, location, and what they were doing about Lilly was information not delivered. Maddie had no doubt there were details available but not given to Tommy. She was even more positive that the police were withholding some information from Mr. Senft, Lilly’s father, and Allie’s and Zara’s parents.
One burning thought dominated Maddie as she looked out the car window on their way home. A single black object glowed in her mind’s eye. Her other phone—the truly secret one she had hidden in her room. It called to her like a beacon.
The moment she hit the house, she’d call Rhee. She did not even care if her parents caught her. This was more important. Rhee would find out the information Mr. Senft would not tell Tommy. He would find out what the police were not telling the parents.
Tommy knew it too. He was stationed at their house, waiting for her. The moment she stepped out of the car, Tommy rushed into her arms. She was happy for his loud sobs. They covered the words she said into his ear: “Say nothing about the phone.” He nodded his understanding.
Maddie broke away from the embrace. Now that she was home, her impatient nature cleared away the fog in her mind like a gale-force wind. She marched to the door and used her own key to open it. Her parents gave each other a raised eyebrow. Even with all the changes in her behavior, they still knew and understood their daughter. Something was going on. The purpose in Maddie’s stride gave it away. When Maddie opened the door, her words confirmed it.
“We’re going to my room. Don’t bother us.”
Derek looked at his wife as the teens scampered up the stairs. “Should we be worried about that?”
“We’re going to have enormous challenges in the coming days, honey—a boy in her room on the day she finds out two friends have been killed isn’t going to be one of them.”
The moment they entered her room, Maddie closed and locked the door. She grabbed her iPod off her desk and started playing her Angry playlist through her speakers. She raised the volume just enough to make it difficult to hear anything that was being said. She did not care if her parents caught her, but she was not going to make it easy either.
The Madison Jennings Series Box Set Page 39
