“Only until those guarantees are deposited in your bank account on Tuesday. Then I have nothing. Nada. You’ve got to give me more than that.”
There was a long pause, then, “I told you before. Hurting your family doesn’t benefit us at all. If you cooperate, we’ll disappear, and you’ll never see us or hear from us again.”
He is a liar. I drew in a deep breath. “Sorry, señor,” I said, “it’s going to take more than that. Not that I doubt you are a man of honor and integrity.”
I heard him grunt, then mutter something to someone else. I thought I heard the woman’s voice answer. He finally asked, “What are you suggesting?”
Rick and I exchanged glances, me imploring him for help, him shrugging helplessly. “We’re still trying to work something out,” I finally said. “As soon as we do, I’ll call you back, and we’ll set up an exchange. But it will be on our terms, not yours.”
“No, señorita Danni, that smells very much like a trap.”
I paused, wanting him to think I was wrestling with this. “All right. We’ll come to Cathedral Valley as you say, but we say when and where.”
“And you will put the battery back in your phone so I know you are not playing games.”
“I will. That is, when I get a new battery. Remember, it’s leaking gasoline.”
There was a snort of derision. “Tell them to put in a gallon. Or maybe you could find a very small set of jumper cables and charge it up again.” Then his voice went very soft. “One more question, chiquita, and I want you to think very carefully about this before you answer.”
“Go on.”
“Have you, or anyone with you, made contact with any law enforcement officers of any kind?”
“We have not,” I said without hesitation. “Not in any way. I am fully aware of the consequences of doing so. I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Your parents tell me you are an honest girl. Do you swear this on the grave of your grandmother?”
“I do.” I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t push the issue.
“All right,” he said, and I sighed in relief. “I believe you. We shall call you again. Hasta luego.”
As I handed the phone back to Rick, I said, “Be sure you write down his number. The FBI will want it.”
“It’s on my phone,” he said, “but it won’t be traceable. I bet he’s using one of those throw-away cell phones or something like that.” As he returned the phone to its case, he gave me a funny look.
“What?” I said, suddenly embarrassed.
“Was that you or the pouch talking?”
“I . . . It wasn’t me. I was scared to death.”
“You were Wonder Woman,” Cody said.
Laughing, I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Mom and Dad and Grandpère are all right, Code. They’re all right.” I looked up at Rick. “Did you hear what he said about Mom working on her tan?”
“Yes. Do you really think she is?”
“No, but where’s the best place to get a tan? At the beach. They’re at Lake Powell, Rick, I’m sure of it.”
He considered that for a moment, then nodded. “I think you’re right.”
“Good. Then we’d better get going. Let’s go find us a phone store.”
He didn’t move. “Danni, why do you think your grandfather told you that El Cobra is a liar? He had to know that was going to cause trouble.”
“Because he wants me to know that we can’t trust him.”
“Yes, but . . .” He was squirming a little.
“What? Do you know something I don’t?”
“While you were sleeping this morning, I got on the Internet and did some research on secret bank accounts.”
A sudden dread swept over me. “And what did you learn?”
“They are carefully protected, but the banks have an agreement with US law enforcement. If they can prove a crime has been committed and the criminals are using the banks to hide that crime, then the banks must turn over the records and access to those accounts.”
I was tired, but I understood what he was saying. “So all this talk about them disappearing once their money is safe is just to keep us going along with them.”
He shrugged. What other conclusion was there? Fighting hard not to let discouragement completely wash me away, I reached in the pocket of my jeans, took out the keys, and tossed them to him. “I’m really, really tired, Rick. You drive.”
He caught them. For a long moment, he searched my face, looking into my eyes. Then he reached out and laid a hand gently on my arm. “It’s going to be all right, Danni,” he said quietly. “You’re every bit as smart as El Cobra.” He laughed softly. “And if you can make writing appear on windshields and change speed limits signs, then everything will be okay.”
“Promise?” I said, my voice barely audible.
This time he laughed aloud. “You’re sure asking for a lot of promises today.”
Chapter 38
Caitlin, our salesperson—or technical support associate, or token cutie, or whatever they were called in this particular phone store—gave me a long look, sizing me up. She also kept glancing at Rick, who, for now at least, was letting me take the lead. Caitlin was an attractive brunette, probably nineteen or twenty. I wondered if she knew her stuff or was just a pretty face. One thing was for sure. She was impressed with Rick. I was getting used to that.
“Now,” she said, “I have to warn you, in order to find out if there is malware on your phone, we’re going to have to—”
“Malware?” I cut in.
“Yes, that’s what we call it instead of spyware. Malware is an abbreviation of ‘malicious software.’ Anyway, what I was about to say is, once I hook your phone up, whoever it is that’s monitoring you will know where you are.”
Rick had already warned me about that. We had decided that our stay in Price would be short enough that El Cobra’s people couldn’t get to us before we were on the road again.
“Yes, I know. We’ll take the battery out again as soon as it’s confirmed. We’re on our way to Denver to meet our parents, so I think we’ll be all right.” I saw Rick and Cody register a flicker of surprise, but then nod.
“Okay, then let’s find out for you.” She gave another sidelong glance at Rick, then offered me an awkward smile. “You sure your parents didn’t put it on your phone? That’s the most common explanation. They want to monitor where their kids are and what they’re saying to their friends.” She emphasized the word “kids” just enough to raise my hackles. “That,” she went on quickly, “or employers who want to monitor their employees.” She sized me up and down. “Are you employed?”
“Yeah, I own a mine with my father,” I said as if that were the most common thing in the world. “And my parents didn’t put anything on my phone.”
She nodded. I think the mine ownership bit went right past her. As for my parents, it was obvious she had heard that line before. “Follow me,” she said, businesslike.
She led us back to a counter with several desktop computers lined up.
I handed her the battery and the phone. “The battery is about dead,” I said. “Would it make any difference if you put in a new one?” I was still worried about El Cobra swooping in and grabbing us.
“No, the tracking is done through the wireless signal that is sent to the phone. Once the battery is out, there’s nothing to track. But it doesn’t matter which battery it is.”
“Hold on,” Rick broke in. “So there doesn’t have to be malware on your phone to track it?”
“Oh no. All cell phones register their location with their home networks several times a minute. Those service providers can track the phone to within a few meters if they choose to do so. That’s how law enforcement agencies are able to track someone who’s lost, or a child who’s been abducted.”
Okay, she wasn’t just cute, she knew her stuff. I looked at Rick to see what he thought, and was surprised to see sudden fear in his eyes.
“What??
?s wrong?” I asked.
He barely heard me. “Do law enforcement agencies have to get permission to track someone’s phone?”
She frowned. “That’s a big issue right now. They’re supposed to get a warrant, but the law is fuzzy, especially in cases of an emergency. Cell phone companies, including the ones we represent, charge a pretty hefty fee for tracking services. They’re making a lot of money from police departments all across the US.”
My mind was suddenly spinning. So could the FBI track El Cobra’s location through his phone? How simple would that be? We’d just wait for him to call, then . . .
But Rick’s mind was going down another track. “Can anyone buy that service from the phone providers? Like a private citizen?”
“Supposedly not,” she said, less sure of herself. “But I guess, theoretically, if a person had enough money and the right contacts, they could bribe an employee to provide that for them.”
I was suddenly weak in the knees. Rick wasn’t thinking of the FBI tracking El Cobra; he was thinking about El Cobra tracking his phone. The same phone that El Cobra had called him on in Wellington less than half an hour ago.
“And is there anyway to protect against that?” he asked in a low voice.
“Not that I know of. But I don’t think you need to worry about that.” She gave him a strange look. “Unless you’re running from the law.”
Oh, great! Now she was suspicious. I almost grabbed Rick’s hand and bolted. But good old Rick gave her a rueful smile and moved in closer. “Actually, we’ve got a guy stalking my sister here. At first, it was just an annoyance, but now he’s really starting to worry us.”
She looked at me, her dark eyes suddenly full of compassion. “How awful. Have you called the police?”
“Our parents have,” I said, thinking fast. “We’re going to see them as soon as we get home.”
Rick still wasn’t satisfied. “I’m pretty sure there’s no malware on my phone, but if this guy can track the phone anyway, that’s a real concern. I guess I could remove the battery from my phone too, but we have to stay in touch with our parents.”
“I understand. I’m sorry, but I really think the chances of someone getting access to that information are pretty remote.”
Not if you’re El Cobra and you have twenty million dollars at stake, I thought.
Caitlin shrugged. “If you’re really nervous about it, you could always buy a temporary phone. It’s still traceable, but it has no recorded ties to you.”
“And do you carry those here?” Rick asked.
“Yes.”
Rick looked at me. I nodded vigorously. “Let’s do it.”
“Do you want one or two?”
I didn’t wait. “Two.” I remembered something else. “And we’ll need a car charger.”
“All right,” Caitlin said.
Rick took out his phone and started to remove his battery.
Caitlin spoke to me. “Do you still want me to remove the malware from your phone? They may be able to track your phone, but if we take the software off, they can’t listen in on your conversations or intercept your text messages.” She shuddered. “That would give me the creeps.”
“Me too. Take it off,” I said.
To my surprise, she touched my hand briefly. “I’m so sorry.” She removed the case and started to replace the battery. As she did so, I suddenly held up my hand. My mind started correcting itself just like it had after I’d knocked Gordo out in the barn. “No, wait. Don’t take it off.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
I turned to Rick. “Once we’re with the police, maybe they can use it to lure the guy into a trap or something.”
He saw instantly where I was going. “Good thinking, sis. We’ll just leave the battery out until we’re ready.” He turned to Caitlin. “Thank you, Caitlin. You have been most helpful.”
“Yes. We really appreciate it.” And I meant it. She had been great. I reached in the pouch, felt around, then brought out two hundred-dollar bills and handed them to Rick. “You get the phones,” I said. “I’ll wait outside. We’d better hit the road as soon as possible.”
Though I was feeling much more kindly toward Caitlin, it still gave me great satisfaction to see her eyes widen at the sight of that much cash. Maybe now she would think I really did own a mine.
As I started for the door, I had another thought. “Hey, Caitlin?”
“Yes?”
“Could I ask a special favor of you?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“You’ll have the numbers of our throwaway phones, right? Could you give us a call if someone happens to come here asking about us?”
“Sure,” she promised. “I’ll call you immediately.”
“Thank you. Just ask for Carruthers.”
“I’m sorry?”
“So am I,” but I smiled as I said it. “Carruthers. C-a-r-r-u-t-h-e-r-s.”
She scribbled quickly. “Got it. I’ll call you.”
Chapter 39
When I rejoined Cody, who was waiting outside, I opened the back of the 4Runner and started rummaging through our gear.
“Whatcha lookin’ for?” he asked.
“My overnight bag. I’m want to see if I can find that envelope Grandpère talked about.” I found the bag and started going through its contents.
Rick came out of the store carrying a sack with the store’s logo on it. “You want me to drive again?” he asked.
“Ha!” I cried, straightening and waving the envelope at them. “He did put it in here. But I could have sworn it wasn’t there before.”
“I drive, you drive? Your call.”
“You drive. I want to see what Grandpère is up to.”
As we got underway, I opened the envelope. It held a pack of papers about a quarter of an inch thick. I looked at the first page, then frowned. “It’s a note from Grandpère. Written on my birthday.” I read it aloud.
Sunday, June 12
My Dearest Danni,
Happy sixteenth birthday—another milestone in your journey of life. For the past few days, I have felt a desire to share some things with you, things you are not familiar with yet, but which are part of yours and Cody’s heritage. If you are reading this and I am not with you, it is likely because you are in some kind of difficulty. I know not what form this difficulty will take, but for more than a week now, I have had a growing sense that some great challenge is coming to our family.
I stopped and looked at Rick. “That’s amazing. How could he know that?”
There was no good answer for that, so I continued.
I have included the following items with this letter:
Some brief excerpts from my life history. It was written by my father as though it had happened to someone other than his own son. He said it was easier that way.
Some extended excerpts from the journal of Monique LaRoche—my mother and your great-grandmother.
Some handwritten notes of my own to answer any possible questions you may have about what you read.
The story of my mother’s experience in Paris as told to me when I was sixteen years old. After we emigrated to America, she asked that I write it for her because she said that if she wrote it herself, the tears would blot out the words. I wrote it exactly as she dictated it to me.
And finally, I have written some brief concluding comments for reasons that will be clear after you read them.
I recommend you read what I have given you in the order listed above as this will make the most sense.
Danni, it is time you know the full story of Monique LaRoche. Since you bear her name, I pray that her story will give you strength in whatever challenge you may be facing at this moment, or in the years which still lie ahead of you.
De tout mon coeur—with all my love,
Grandpère
Part Seven: Resistance
Chapter 40
Le Petit Château, France
Friday, August 11, 1944
Jean-Henri LaRoch
e and Louis Girard were playing war. It was a beautiful summer day with a light breeze. The sky was perfectly clear. Even the smudge that usually hung over Strasbourg, about six kilometers north of them, was not there today.
Their “battleground” was the dirt lane that led past Le Petit Château, Jean-Henri’s home. Blocks of wood were their tanks. Round stones from the creek behind the château were the trucks. Short lengths of willow sticks stuck in the soft ground were the supporting infantry. Their “air force” consisted of one plane each, a gift to Jean-Henri from his grandmother.
Louis Girard was Jean-Henri’s best friend. His father was the village butcher, and his family lived over the butcher shop in the heart of the village. He was a couple years older than Jean-Henri, but in the village school, all the grades met together so age differences didn’t warrant much attention. Because Louis’s home was small, he usually came out to the château—good weather or bad—once his chores were done.
As Jean-Henri’s plane swooped in, suddenly Louis held up his hand. “Shh!” He cocked his head to one side, looking to the northeast.
“What is it?” Jean-Henri cocked his head too.
“Bombers,” Louis said after a moment.
Jean-Henri went up on tiptoes, straining to hear better. “Oui. Many of them.”
Both boys searched the sky to the north. The sound was definitely getting louder, but there was no sign of any planes. “Stuttgart, do you think?” Jean-Henri asked.
“No. Listen. They’re closer than before. I think it’s Strasbourg.”
Jean-Henri stared at his friend. “You really think so?”
“Boys?”
The voice of Monique LaRoche brought them both around. She was standing on the front veranda of the château, wiping her hands on her apron, looking anxiously up into the sky. “I would like you to come closer to the house to play.”
“But, Mama, we can see better from out here.”
Suddenly Pierre LaRoche appeared at the barn door. He had a pitchfork in his hand. “Jean-Henri,” he called. “You heard your mother.”
“Oui, Papa.”
The two boys left their armies in place and moved to the grassy area directly in front of the house. Both mother and father joined them. They all turned to the north to watch. What had been a faint hum at first was now a dull roar, heavy enough that the sound took on a life of its own. And then the bombers appeared—first just three or four, then row after row after row. They were no more than two kilometers north of the château, coming in fast. Planes had never flown so close to their little village before.