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  “Docs say I have the mother of all concussions but no permanent damage.”

  “What time did it happen?”

  “I’d gone upstairs to change. I’d been at a meeting out of town. I got home late.”

  “How late?”

  “A little bit after eleven.”

  “We got there at 11:30,” said Sean.

  Tuck looked confused. “You were there?”

  Sean took a minute to explain. “Where were you coming in from?”

  “Jacksonville.”

  “You drove home in your Mercedes?”

  “That’s right. How’d you know?”

  “You drove straight home? No stops?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Well, if someone were following you, you might have noticed something if you stopped.”

  “Why would someone be following me?”

  “Sean’s point is that whoever attacked your family might have followed you home.”

  “You mean it was random?”

  “They see somebody in a late-model Mercedes, it’s not unheard-of Tuck.”

  Tuck put a hand over his face. “Jesus, I can’t believe this.”

  “You mind my asking what the meeting was about?”

  Tuck slowly removed his hand. “Nothing too exciting. You know I’m a defense contractor. We have a small office down in Jacksonville. My company is a subcontractor on a team working on a biodefense proposal for Homeland Security. We were just polishing our submission.”

  “And you got back right in time to get your head crunched,” said Michelle.

  Tuck spoke slowly. “They told me about Pam. How she died.”

  “Who? The police?”

  “Guys in suits. FBI, I think they said. Head’s still not working right. Sorry.”

  They asked him the same questions that they had the children and got the same unhelpful answers.

  Tuck smiled weakly. “It was a great day for Willa. She got to go to Camp David for her birthday. How many kids get to do that?”

  “Not many,” agreed Michelle. “Too bad you had to miss it.”

  “First time I ever missed one. And Camp David too. I’ve never been there.”

  “It’s pretty rustic,” said Sean. “So the First Lady has played a big part in Willa’s life?”

  “Oh yeah. I mean to the extent she has time. Some days I still can’t believe she’s married to the president. Hell, I can’t believe that I’m his brother-in-law.”

  “But you two have always been close?”

  “Yeah. I like Dan too. Even voted for him.” Tuck managed a smile before choking back a sob. “I can’t understand why anyone would do this, Sean.”

  “There’s one elephant in the room on that, Tuck,” he said.

  “You mean that it’s connected to Dan and Jane?”

  “Folks know you’re family. You’re a much easier target.”

  “But if that’s the case what do they want? If it’s money the president can’t just dip into the Treasury and pay a ransom.”

  Sean and Michelle exchanged another glance as Tuck looked from one to the other. “I mean he can’t, right?”

  “Let’s just focus on the facts, Tuck. There’ll be plenty of time for speculation.”

  “We don’t have time, Sean. What about Willa? They’ve got Willa. She could be…” He sat up in his agitation.

  Sean gently pushed him back down on the bed. “Look, Tuck, the FBI is all over this and we’re going to do everything we can too. What we need now is for everybody to remain calm and just tell us what they know.”

  Sean pulled out the copy of the markings on Pam’s arms.

  “Do you recognize this?”

  “No, why?”

  “The FBI didn’t ask you about it?”

  “No. What the hell is it?”

  “This stuff was written on Pam’s arms with a black pen.”

  “Oh my God. Is it some sort of cult thing? Is that what this is?” Tuck’s expression changed from anger to terror. “Has some kind of modern-day Charlie Manson freak with a beef against the government got Willa?”

  The nurse came in the room and said sternly, “I’m going to have to ask both of you to leave. You’re clearly upsetting him.”

  Michelle started to protest but Sean said, “Right, sorry.” He gripped Tuck’s arm. “You just focus on getting well. John and Colleen really need you, okay?”

  Tuck gave a quick nod and sank back on the bed.

  A few minutes later Sean and Michelle were climbing in her SUV.

  “Got one question,” said Michelle.

  “Just one? I’m impressed.”

  “Why was Tuck out of town at a meeting on the day of his daughter’s birthday at Camp David? I mean, the polish meeting in Jacksonville couldn’t wait? Or you couldn’t do it by video conference? And was it just me or did he really seem to want to know if the president could pay a ransom from the U.S. Treasury?”

  “He jumped on the cult thing a little too quickly too. That’s why I didn’t ask him about Pam wanting to meet with us, because it could be she wanted to meet with us about Tuck.”

  “So you suspect him?”

  “I suspect everybody. That’s why I didn’t mention it to Jane Cox either.”

  “I liked your tactic in nailing down that he drove straight home. But do you think this really was just a random thing?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then do you think this is really tied to the First Family?”

  “I did until Tuck said it.”

  “Said what?”

  “That he was working on a big biodefense project for the government.”

  CHAPTER 14

  LATER THAT EVENING they drove near the Duttons’ home but didn’t pull down the road they lived on because it was closed off to traffic by portable blockades. In front of the barriers police cruisers and FBI SUVs sat slant-parked. Behind the temporary walls, the road was still clogged with police and forensics vans.

  Beyond the barrier zone they could see eager journalists running around with fat microphones clutched in hand, while their videographers trotted behind. News vans with electronic masts raised to the heavens were parked up and down the road. Gawkers were out in force as well, trying to get a peek of what was going on and becoming fodder for the reporters who had little else to do but seek out inane comments since the authorities weren’t talking.

  “Okay, so much for tripping through the forensics evidence,” said Michelle.

  Sean wasn’t listening. He was staring down at the piece of paper on which he’d written the letters found on Pam Dutton’s arms. He was trying to assemble them in a way that made sense.

  “Chaffakan. Hatka and Tayyi?”

  “Chaffakan? Like in Chaka Khan? Maybe they’re fans of pop singers with cool names.”

  “Will you get serious?”

  “Okay, Tayyi sounds like Japanese or Chinese. Either a martial art or a relaxation technique.”

  “Or how about a code?”

  “If so we don’t have the key.”

  Sean pulled out his phone and pecked on the digital screen.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What everybody does these days, I’m Googling it.”

  He waited for the search request to load and then started scrolling down the responses. He didn’t look too confident.

  “Hatka is either an actress or an entertainment company. And Tayyi has something to do with Arabs in the sixth century, apparently some tribal groups.”

  “Some terrorist thing?”

  “Doesn’t feel right. I’m going to try a few more combinations with these letters.” He pecked at the digital keys and got more results until another entry caught his attention.

  “Yi.”

  “What about it?”

  “I typed in Yi instead of Tayyi and here’s what it says.” Sean read off the screen. “The Yi Syllabary’s origins are lost in time but are thought to be influenced by the Chinese writing system. Each character represent
s one syllable. It was used mainly for religious and secret writings. It’s spoken by millions of people in the Chinese provinces of Yunnan and Sichuan.”

  “So a secret Chinese religious society with a weird language is responsible for all this?” Michelle said skeptically. “But the letters are from the English alphabet, not Chinese.”

  “I don’t know. I’m just trying to cop a lead.” He punched in a number and held up a hand when Michelle started to say something.

  “Hey, Phil, it’s Sean King. Right, yeah, it’s been a long time, I know. Look, I’m back in D.C. and I’ve got a question about a language. Right. No, I’m not trying to learn one, I’m trying to see if something is a language or not. Yeah, I guess I’m not making much sense. Look, do you know anyone at Georgetown who’s familiar with a language called Yi? From China?”

  Michelle tapped her fingers on the steering wheel while he talked.

  “Yeah, I know it’s not one of the major ones. But could you check and see if anyone in your department might know? Thanks, I owe you.” He gave Phil his number and clicked off.

  When Michelle looked at him questioningly he said, “Buddy of mine who’s in the foreign language department at Georgetown. He’s going to check and get back to me.”

  “Yi-pee.”

  He stared at her crossly. “You got any better ideas?”

  She was about to answer when his phone rang. “Yeah?” He straightened up and then glanced out the window. “Now? Right, okay.”

  He clicked off and then looked puzzled.

  “Who was it?”

  “FBI Special Agent Waters. We’ve been officially invited to participate in the investigation.”

  Michelle slid the gearshift lever to drive. “Wow, Jane Cox really lived up to her billing.”

  CHAPTER 15

  WATERS MET THEM at the front door. It was quite obvious that the FBI agent had been put on a short leash with a choke collar and didn’t like it one bit. He had them put on elastic booties and instructed them to walk only where he walked. He was obviously taking great pains to sound polite, but it all came out as a near growl.

  “It must be nice to have friends in high places,” he said as they headed up the stairs to the bedrooms after passing the outline of Pam Dutton’s body on the living room rug.

  “You should try it, but then you’d have that whole ‘getting friends’ challenge to overcome,” snapped Michelle. Sean elbowed her in the side as they stopped at the door to one of the bedrooms. Waters pushed it open. Sean and Michelle looked around as they stood just inside the doorway.

  This was Willa’s room, the one that had been empty when they’d searched the house before. It was neat and clean. There were shelves full of books and a slender silver Mac on her desk. The words “Willa Land” were written out on one wall that was actually a black chalkboard.

  “John Dutton said he thought Willa was downstairs with their mother when it happened. But Colleen said she thought she heard Willa on the stairs,” said Sean.

  “The same thing they told us,” Waters said curtly.

  “Could you tell which version was right?”

  “If Willa was attacked on the stairs there’s no trace left there. What she might have heard on the stairs were the kidnappers.”

  “Any sign of forced entry?”

  “We think they gained access through the back door. It wasn’t locked. There’s a rear stairs to the upper level from there.” He pointed to his left. “Just down that hall.”

  “So is the idea that the attackers came in via the unlocked door in the rear and worked their way through the house, room to room, back to front?” said Michelle.

  “Drugged Colleen, then John, knocked out Tuck, and then killed Pam and took Willa?” finished Sean.

  “That’s one theory,” said Waters.

  “Why not drug Tuck too? He told us he opened the bedroom door and something hit him.”

  “He’s a big guy, not a kid. Maybe they didn’t want to take a chance with the drugging part. Blow to the head was better.”

  “What drug did they use?”

  “The docs took some samples from residue on the kids’ faces. Looks to be a liquid form of general anesthetic.”

  Sean said, “And is your theory that Willa was the intended victim all along?”

  “Not necessarily. It might just be that they ran into Willa first and grabbed her. Pam Dutton comes in the room, sees what’s going down, and starts fighting to protect her daughter. Only natural. They kill her and take the kid.”

  Sean shook his head. “But the living room is in the front of the house. If they came in the back like you think they did and worked their way through the rooms, they would have come on Tuck first, John next, then Willa’s room, and Colleen last. And only then gotten to the front. And if Willa had been in her bedroom they would’ve got her before Colleen. And I can’t believe they would have killed Pam first and then taken the trouble to knock out Tuck and drug the other kids.”

  Michelle added, “And when we drove up we heard a scream. Probably Pam’s dying one. The bad guys were already in the living room by then. Tuck and the other kids were already taken out.”

  Sean said, “So Willa probably wasn’t in her bedroom at the time. She was maybe in the living room. She was the oldest, it was her birthday; Mom let her stay up late, or got her up when Dad got home so he could wish her a happy birthday.”

  Michelle picked up the train again. “Mom leaves the room, maybe goes to the kitchen for something, Tuck goes upstairs to change. Maybe the other kids are already drugged. They knock out Tuck, hustle to the living room, grab Willa, Mom comes back, sees what’s happening, fights, and it costs the lady her life.”

  “But the point is,” added Sean, “that Willa was the intended target. They would have already had access to the other kids.”

  From Water’s expression the man had clearly not thought any of this through yet. He said, with as much confidence as he could muster, “It’s early yet.”

  Michelle’s face telegraphed her opinion of this answer. Lame.

  “Did the ME say how much of Pam Dutton’s blood was missing?”

  “More than could be accounted for by the wound leakage and what we found on the rug.”

  “Who’s the ME on this?”

  “Lori Magoulas. You know her?”

  “Name rings a bell. Any idea why they would take her blood?”

  “Maybe they’re vampires.”

  “How about the trace under the fingernails?”

  “We’re processing it,” he said tersely.

  “Prints? How about on the vials?”