Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (99 page)

My last choice, Kevin Adams, struck me as the best possibility. We’d spent time with him in Peru, so I felt like I knew him. He also seemed truly devastated by Mr. Specter’s death. Certainly he had no idea that it was faked and that Mr. Specter was a double agent working for the Associates. Kevin was a good-natured, unassuming guy. Down to earth. Likeable. Happy hanging out in his comic book store. Simple in his view of the world. Someone like that would want to help, even if the enemy was his old friend, Sam Specter. Maybe
especially
since it was Sam Specter. Kevin was probably going to feel angry and betrayed when he found out. Yes, Kevin was the one to go to. He could reach out to his Praetorian Guard contacts and warn them for me.

I hovered over Russ one last second and then took the plunge.
Take me to Kevin Adams.

I’d been worried that I’d catch Kevin sleeping, so it was nice to see him sitting up and wide awake, sipping from a tall glass of what looked like dark beer. As I watched, he smacked his lips appreciatively. I almost made myself visible, but caught myself when I noticed he wasn't at home. And he wasn't alone either.

He was sitting at a round table, across from Mrs. Whitehouse, who didn't look quite like herself. And judging from the slight thrumming sound, the curvature of the beige walls, and the squarish shaded windows, they were on a plane. No, a jet. A private jet, judging by the spacious design and lack of rows of seats. So very curious. I moved closer, careful not to let them know I was there.

Mrs. Whitehouse nervously drummed her fingers on the tabletop while Kevin Adam took a long pull on his glass of beer. “This is good. A really good tasty brewski,” he said, setting the glass down on a cardboard coaster. “I should see if I can get this brand at home.”

“Hmm.” Even without words, she managed to show disapproval.

“I'm going to get a refill on this,” he said, reaching over to press a button above the table. Mrs. Whitehouse slapped his hand to get him to stop, but it was too late. “I'd like another beer, please,” he said.

Mrs. Whitehouse lowered her head to talk directly into the speaker. “Cancel that. There will be no more beer.”

“Yes ma’am,” came a man’s voice through the speaker.

“Who died and made you boss?” Kevin asked. He ran a hand over his Elvis-styled hair, and gazed forlornly into the bottom of the glass.

Mrs. Whitehouse barked out a laugh. “Funny you should mention it. Commander Specter died and made me boss, that’s who. Second in command, that’s what I’m going to be.”

“Yeah, well it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Oh, it will,” she said, with complete confidence. “You wait and see. Sam promised. He saw it in one of his visions.”

If I’d actually been there, my mouth would have hung open in disbelief. Kevin Adams and Mrs. Whitehouse were in league with Mr. Specter? Easygoing, lovable Kevin and nerdy, annoying Mrs. Whitehouse were aligned with the Associates? No! Couldn’t be. I heard it but found it hard to believe.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, not convinced. “That and a buck fifty will get you a cup of java.” He ran a finger around the rim of the glass. “But what I’d really like is another glass of beer.”

“Show some discipline, would you?” Mrs. Whitehouse said. “That’s the key. How do you think I lost so much weight? And ten years I’ve kept it off.” She put a hand on one hip and I realized then that this was why she looked so different. She was thin, for her. I’d seen her in Peru earlier in the summer and she must have been fifty pounds heavier then. How had she lost so much weight so quickly? Her face too, looked different. It was like she’d wiped off stage make-up with wrinkles and age spots, and revealed a softer, younger version of herself.

“Taking off the fat suit helped too.”

She nodded. “That thing was hot. Wearing it behind the cafeteria line was torture. I was broiling inside that thing. Glad I’m not doing that anymore.”

“What was the point of that? You were a lunch room lady, not an international spy.”

“Even lunch room ladies have identities. And I knew that eventually I’d be changing mine. Having a different look to begin with will make the transition much easier. Sam suggested it, you know.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long, long time. Back when my last name was Whitman—”

“Oh, here we go,” Kevin muttered.

She continued on. “Whitman was just such a boring name. The only time anyone ever asked about it was when they wanted to know if my family was related to Walt Whitman. You know Walt Whitman, the poet?”

“Not personally, no.” He lifted the window shade and looked out into the darkness.

“We weren’t related to Walt Whitman, but I always said we were. Even as a child I knew I was born for better things. And then when we were teenagers and Sam said he saw me in a vision of the future and saw both of us in power in Washington D.C., it came to me.” She snapped her fingers. “My name would be Mrs. Whitehouse. A sort of inside joke. Sam loved it when I told him my idea. I remember getting it legally changed and the man at the courthouse asking if I was sure this was what I wanted. I was about twenty then, and skinny as a twig. They probably thought it was a whim, but believe me, it wasn’t.”

“Why not Miss Whitehouse?” Kevin asked, suddenly interested. “Why Missus?”

“Mrs. Whitehouse sounds better and it’s easier to say,” she said. “Try saying it both ways and you’ll see.” She flapped her hands at him. “Go ahead. Try it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I knew that someday Sam would be in power and I’d be right by his side, like the first lady, only better. I’ve been preparing to be Mrs. Whitehouse for almost thirty years.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. When I’d seen her last, her hair had been dowdy and shapeless. Since then she’d gotten a sleek new cut and color. It almost looked chic.

“You seem very confident that this is going to work,” Kevin said.

“Of course it will work,” she exclaimed. “Everything we’ve worked for all these years has led to this. Do you think I wanted to be a lunchroom lady for the last twenty-five years? Criminy. Those high school kids are idiots and I walked around and made friends with them every single lunch hour. Every single lunch day. I chatted them up and earned their trust. Did the whole dimwitted lunch lady act so no one would be suspicious. And I did this for years.
Years
! Just waiting and watching to see when the Edgewood four would show up. The ones with all the power. The ones Sam predicted would come. And then we found them, one by one.” She ticked off on her fingers. “Mallory, Russ, Jameson, and Nadia.” She stared at a spot beyond Kevin, like envisioning all of us standing behind him. “Slippery little devils, what with two of them being homeschooled. That’s what threw me off. I was looking for four of them in the cafeteria. Rosie had her suspicions when they started coming into the diner, but Sam was the one who confirmed they were the ones. He had it all figured out.”

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” Kevin muttered. “You think the sun rises and sets by that guy, don’t you? Well, I’ve got news for you. He’s a regular human being just like the rest of us.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Adams,” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Sam Specter isn’t like the rest of us. He was born for greatness. He’s going to change the world.”

“I kind of like the world the way it is.”

“That’s because you lack vision,” she said, sniffing. “I’ve been lucky enough to hear Sam’s plans, and believe me, they are inspiring.”

“I’ve heard them too,” Kevin said, clearly not impressed.

“Sam says the reason most governments can’t get anything done is that there are too many people muddying the waters. Ruling by committee never works. The laws that finally do get passed are diluted, the rules get bent, and there are too many changes implemented to make any kind of difference. Ultimately no one benefits from all the wishy-washiness. Having one all-powerful leader would be ideal, except that citizens resent not having a say in things. But what if,” she said, and here her eyes gleamed with excitement, “you could have a government with the appearance of a democracy, but which has just a few people making all the decisions behind the scenes? Wouldn’t that be better for everyone concerned?”

“I’ve heard all this,” Kevin said abruptly. “I know the plan and in theory it sounds great. I even used to agree with Sam. Seriously, I used to sit in his basement drinking beer and listening to all the crap you’re spouting now and I totally thought he was on to something. Yeah, I’ll admit it made sense to me. Why not seize control? Why not take power? The government’s pretty messed up and Sam’s a damn genius with a gazillion ideas for making things better. So a few people have to die.” He blew a raspberry. “Tough blow, but ultimately the entire world will come out ahead. Sam called those deaths collateral damage. People die. Too bad, so sad. Move on and prosper, just like he said.”

“So what’s your problem, then?” She leaned back, crossing her arms.

Kevin poked a finger on the table top. “My problem is that Sam never said the plan included joining up with the Associates. We both know those people are ruthless, power mongers lacking in human decency.”

“And the Praetorian Guard are all angels? Please, Kevin.” Mrs. Whitehouse exhaled loudly. “The good guys and bad guys concept is completely outdated. Everyone is corrupt. At least the Associates get things done.”

“Yeah, by murdering people.”

She let out a cynical chuckle. “People die. That’s a fact of life. Most of the time there’s not even a good reason. At least this time there’s a benefit that comes out of it.”

“But see here, that’s the problem,” Kevin said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I know these kids and I don’t see a benefit to them getting murdered. Russ, Mallory, and Jameson—they aren’t just nothing. They have names and families and futures. I like them. I don’t want to see them die.”

She sighed. “You always were a soft touch. Why you even wanted to come on this trip, I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either. I guess I just couldn’t stay at home and let things happen without me.”

“You know the kids have to die, don’t you? Sam saw the vision clearly. They’re the only thing standing in our way. Once they’re gone, the path is clear, that’s the way he saw it.”

Kevin shook his head slowly, and then reached over and pushed the button. “I’m gonna be needing another beer.” His voice was defiant.

The same man’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “You have approval for a beer?”

Mrs. Whitehouse said, “It’s okay. You can bring him his beer.” She tilted her head and gave him a withering look. “You’re not holding up very well, are you, Kevin?” He said nothing so she continued. “If it makes you feel any better, you won’t see them die.” She lifted up the shade to look at her reflection in the window, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’ll be there. Luckily I’m not as squeamish as you are.”

“You can really watch three kids die?” Kevin said. “And what about Rosie and Anton? They don’t have a clue what’s going on and they could wind up getting killed too. You don’t feel bad about that? That’s pretty cold, even for you.”

“Rosie and Anton? Those two always felt they were better than me.”

“No they didn’t.”

She slapped her hand on the table. “Believe me they did, and they still do. Pompous fools, that’s what they are.”

“So you’re okay with having someone you’ve known since high school getting killed? You don’t feel even a little bit guilty about that?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll feel guilty about it afterward, but I’ve made my decision and I can live with it. And I can’t reverse it even if I wanted to. The die has been cast. Before those kids even got on the plane they were goners.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The inspirational stones I gave them at the airport?” She grinned. “Not so inspirational, as it turns out. Peace, love, and hope? Kaboom!”

Kevin’s face turned ashen. “Oh, no.”

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Whitehouse said gleefully. “They’re actually powerful explosives timed to detonate during the Bash. Since the stones will be in their pockets, they’ll be killed instantly. That means no pain, if it makes you feel any better,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “Yep, Sam has it all planned. About a third of the Secret Service at the Bash are Associate plants, so they’re on our side. The smoke that’s created will supply the diversion needed to allow us to kill the president. Getting rid of the daughter is just a little extra Sam dreamed up since she’s so well liked. The country will be so preoccupied by these events that the vice president will easily slide into power and make half a dozen major changes before they even know what hit them.” She slapped the table. “It’s gonna be a revolution.”

Kevin said, “But why do the kids have to die? No one said anything about that to me.”

“We kept you in the dark on purpose.” She gave him a mean smile. “Because Sam saw that you’d turn traitor. You haven’t been part of the equation for a very long time.”

Russ

When they told me Nadia wouldn’t arrive in time for the Bash, I felt sick. There was some story about a weather delay and her flight being cancelled, which supposedly left her stranded. The whole thing sounded ridiculous to me. Couldn’t someone go and get her?

But no. Mitch said that the voice mail she left only gave her new flight information. They didn’t know where she would be spending the night, and when they called back, she didn’t pick up.

“Can’t you track her phone and find her location?” I asked.

“Someone’s been watching too many crime shows,” Will quipped with a grin. “It’s not that easy, Russ. Believe me, we’ve thought of everything.” He told me that Nadia would be arriving sometime after the Bash started. A PG contact would pick her up from the airport and rush her to the event where someone would be waiting with her evening dress and accessories. “It will be close. Hopefully her plane won’t be delayed or she’ll miss the whole thing.”

And then in a condescending tone (which I totally hate), Mitch said, “Don’t worry about a thing, Russ. You’ll be able to see Nadia as soon as she gets here.”