Daddy Warlock (17 page)

When Lois turned off the flashlight, he saw a yellow pinprick shining in the wall. “It's a peephole”, explained his cousin, steering him toward it. “Take a peek.”

All Harry could see was darkness, with the point of light above his head. “It's too high.” He stood on his tiptoes, but it wasn't enough.

“Here, let me help.” Awkwardly, Lois boosted him up. She seemed shaky, and he guessed he must feel heavy. “Can you see now?”

He could, barely. He was looking down at a room with a long table in the middle. It was so far below, he felt like an angel floating in the clouds.

A couple of men in business suits were shaking hands and greeting each other. To his surprise, Harry discovered he could hear their words.

One man wondered where somebody named Victor was. Another guy complained that Raymond could have found a more suitable place to meet, even on short notice.

“How come I can hear them?” Harry whispered.

“It's the acoustics,” said Lois, setting him down and rubbing her arm muscles.

“What's acoustics?”

“It makes you able to hear things. This room was designed so the owner could spy on people. It was in the 1920s and he was what they called a rumrunner. A gangster who smuggled alcohol instead of drugs. He must not have trusted the people who worked for him.”

Harry didn't care about rumrunners. He wasn't sure what smuggling meant, and the only thing he knew about alcohol was that Mom used it to kill germs.

“I want to go back now,” he said.

“Look! Your grandfather just came in!”

Harry knew enough about grown-ups to understand that Lois wasn't ready to leave. Anyway, maybe the game was starting.

When she lifted him again, he saw Raymond shake hands with the other men. Somebody asked about a device on Raymond's ear, and he said he'd just gotten a hearing aid, and wasn't it awful about getting old, but it didn't slow him down any.

Lois set Harry on his feet and took something from her purse. He heard a click, and she whispered, “We're here. Everything's A-OK.”

His eyes adjusting to the darkness, Harry realized she was speaking into a little microphone. “How can he hear you?”

She clicked it off. “It's that thing on his ear. It's a receiver.”

“Are we starting the game now?”

“In a minute.” She squirmed uncomfortably. Harry wished there were somewhere to sit, but then they wouldn't be able to see through the hole.

“How does the game work?” he asked.

Lois stopped wiggling. “When we did it before, he just had me stand up here and listen while he was out of the room. This is better though. You can read their thoughts, can't you? I mean, you're such a smart boy, and Chance says you're awfully talented.”

“Chance knows about it?”

“Oh, sure.” Her voice sounded funny. It didn't take much of a mind reader to figure out that she was lying. “In fact, he asked me to work with you to help develop your abilities.”

No, he didn't.
If she'd been a stranger, Harry would have punched her for trying to trick him, but he knew
better than to hit a lady. Besides, he might get lost trying to find his way back through that big dark attic.

“You and Ray are cheating, aren't you?” he said.

“What?”

“Listening to the men's thoughts is cheating.” Harry was proud that he understood this.

Until tonight, he'd known that Chance and Mom disapproved of taking advantage of his talents, but it had seemed like just another grown-up rule. Kind of like no throwing balls in the house.

But it made sense now. He'd seen for himself how unfair it would be if he tripped the other kids' parents so Rajeev and Vareena could win.

“It's not cheating.” Lois sounded as if she were trying to convince herself. “This is business. Everybody uses whatever angle they can find.”

“What about Raymond?” Harry couldn't bring himself to call the man Grandpa. “Can he talk to us?”

“Only if he goes out of the room.” Lois brushed back her hair, and he saw that she was wearing a device on her ear, too. “He won't need to talk to us if things go well. But if the other men won't cooperate, he might ask you to, well, give them a push. Do you know what I mean?”

“You mean make them do something they don't want to?”

“Just a little,” she said. “Just until they sign their names.”

A lump was forming in Harry's throat and he wished Rajeev and Vareena would come and find him. But how could they? Nobody would think to look in the attic, and they probably didn't even know he was missing.

He didn't want to use mind control on those men. It
wasn't fair, and he knew for sure that Mom and Dad wouldn't like it.

Maybe he could use mind control on Lois. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to make her take him downstairs. But her smell, flowery and soapy, mixed him up, and her rapid breathing made him nervous.

Trying to reach her mind felt like one time when a gnat had landed on his nose and he'd tried to make it come into focus. Other than crossing his eyes and getting a headache, Harry hadn't accomplished much. He wasn't having any luck with Lois, either.

Below, the men were sitting down when another man walked in. “Victor!” “Mr. Moustaki!” “We're certainly glad to see you!” They stood up and shook his hand.

“You fellows missed a great party!” said the newcomer. “They put on quite a magic show.”

“Really?” Ray murmured, kind of squinting like he wasn't sure what the guy meant.

“Lee and Lew. They're jugglers, comedians, magicians, you name it. Hilarious.” The man sat down. “Let's get started, shall we?”

“Anyone mind if I smoke?” When no one did, Ray lit a cigarette, then passed around some papers. “Gentlemen, I've drawn up a list of the issues we need to iron out…”.

Lois shifted position and tried to wedge Harry onto her hip. He kind of felt sorry for her, but not very much.

This was much more boring than the dance competition, he decided as everybody below picked up the papers. They weren't jumping around or bumping into each other, and their clothes didn't even sparkle.

He decided to read his grandfather's mind. It would serve the old geezer right.

Peering through the pinhole, he fixed his gaze on Raymond.
Immediately, he caught a sense of elation, but it had a dark undertone.

The guy felt sure he was going to triumph, but he had alternate plans—a whole tangly mess of schemes—if things didn't go his way. Trying to trick him would be like playing a computer game designed for grown-ups.

No matter how good Harry was, he realized, there would be rules he didn't understand. He might make his grandfather mess up a little, but not for long. Once Raymond realized the boy was tricking him, he would find a way around it. His brain was like a forest with paths that kept changing and hungry animals that hid in the trees and waited to drop on your shoulders.

Below, the man named Victor was talking. Pretty soon, Ray would expect Harry to read the man's mind, but he couldn't even understand what the guy was saying, let alone what he was thinking.

He didn't want to be here. It was such a strong feeling that Harry knew he had to do something. He had to beat his grandfather in a way that Raymond wouldn't expect.

It was the cigarette that gave him the idea. People shouldn't smoke; that's what Mrs. Reed had said at school. So he was going to do his grandfather a favor.

“Can you tell what—” Lois whispered.

“Shh!” Harry put all his energy into staring at Raymond. The man gave a twitch, as if he felt something, but he didn't seem suspicious. He started to bring the cigarette to his lips.

Harry gritted his teeth. Below, his grandfather's fingers tweaked and the cigarette landed right in Ray's lap.

It was hard not to laugh as his grandfather jumped up, furiously brushing his pants and cussing. The other men, who had been absorbed in their reading, glanced at him in confusion.

“What's going on?” Setting Harry on his feet, Lois put her eye to the pinhole. “Did you do something?”

“Raymond dropped his cigarette,” he said.

She tried to pick him up again. “Well, come here. We're not finished.”

“I'm tired of this.” Dodging back, he could hear himself starting to whine.

Lois sighed “Please help out, okay? If this fizzles, I'll never get promoted. Just read a few thoughts, would you? Something useful, and then I promise we'll leave.”

He didn't believe her. After he read some thoughts, Raymond would want him to control somebody's mind. But Harry knew something they didn't.

A curl of smoke issuing from beneath the table told him the cigarette butt was still alive. Before long it would set off the smoke alarm or sprinkler system, or maybe catch Raymond's pants on fire.

Then they could all go home.

The uneasiness that had flowed around the edges of Tara's consciousness solidified into fear as Chance drove. Had the night been hung with red banners and flashing lights, it couldn't have raised any more alarms in her mind.

It couldn't be a coincidence that Raymond had scheduled a meeting for the same night and place as the dance competition. Lois must have overheard Harry telling Cynda about it, and passed the word along to her boss.

The question was, what was he planning and how did it involve Harry? Tara tried to reassure herself with the thought that Raymond had no reason to harm her son. Even if the boy refused to cooperate, what could his grandfather hope to gain by injuring him? But her deepest instincts told her this was exactly the situation Cynda had hoped to prevent.

Tara had tried phoning the club when they first left the hotel, but at this late hour, only an answering machine picked up. “He's just a little boy. I shouldn't have expected him to sit around by himself for hours. He's interested in watching the competition, but not
that
interested.”

“There must be dozens of people there, maybe several
hundred,” Chance pointed out. “Even while Rajeev and Vareena are occupied, Harry's not alone.”

“A hundred people who aren't paying attention aren't worth one who is.” Tara couldn't help blaming herself. “I should have anticipated this. I should have hired a baby-sitter.”

“If you think some teenager could stop my father from getting what he wants, you underestimate Ray.” Chance floored it through a yellow light “But let's not torture ourselves. We're almost there.”

He was right; there was no point in whipping themselves into a state of panic. Trying to change the subject, Tara said, “Those performers were terrific. You must have gone to a lot of trouble to find them.”

“Every year, I try for a surprise. Powers Financial is known for putting on a good show.” He whipped around a corner, then slowed as they entered a residential area. “That's why Victor was so eager to be there. Thank goodness he mentioned it.”

“I hope people aren't offended that you left early.” Tara had seen surprised expressions when Chance loped out the door, although he'd asked his staff members to explain that there was a family emergency.

“Frankly, I don't care.” He tapped the brakes and turned, a shade too quickly, onto another street.

Faint sounds in the back of Tara's consciousness coalesced into sirens. She gripped Chance's arm. “Do you hear that? You don't suppose—”

“It might be anything,” he said. “We have to stay calm.”

Ahead of them loomed the Green Friars Country Club. Although she'd read about the place, Tara had never seen it before. With its three stories of Victorian gables and
bay windows, it could have been transported from New England in the days of the Puritans.

Smoke whispered from an upstairs window, deathly pale against the night sky. Amid the jangling of alarm bells, people poured out the doors.

In that heart-stopping moment, Tara knew her worries hadn't been empty. “It's on fire!”

There was no place to park, so Chance pulled onto the sidewalk and killed the engine. “Let's go.”

Jumping out, they clasped hands to keep from being separated as they raced into the crowd. People tried to wave them back, but they pressed forward.

It was fortunate that her height let her see over much of the throng, because she was the first to spot Rajeev. “Over there!” she cried.

In the clamor of approaching sirens, she wasn't sure Chance could hear, but he did. Plunging between the escaping guests was like swimming upstream, but at last they reached the housekeeper.

The anxiety in his eyes told Tara what she feared. “I could not find the boy,” he said. “I have looked everywhere, but there is no sign of him or Miss Lois.”

“Lois?” Chance asked.

“She said she would look after him,” Vareena put in, shouting to make herself heard. “We thought he would be safer with her than by himself.”

Tara knew Chance must be thinking the same thing. Lois had taken Harry somewhere else in the building, where he could spy on Raymond's meeting. But where?

“You stay here,” he told her. “I'm going in.”

“It is dangerous!” protested Rajeev. “I will go back myself.”

“No!” Chance shook his head. “He's my son. And I might be able to locate him in ways you couldn't”.

“I'm coming, too.” Tara couldn't bear to wait here. Logic said she could accomplish nothing more than Chance could do alone, but a mother's instincts urged her to go to her child.

Catching her shoulders, he put his mouth close to her ear. “My life may depend on you being out here, so we can communicate. You can let me know instantly if Harry gets out on his own. And if I'm trapped or injured, you could guide the firemen to me.”

“Take your cell phone, too.”

He swore softly. “It's in the car. Besides, I've got a feeling—Tara, trust your instincts. That's our best hope.”

Near the top of the building, a flame licked through a window. It seared a path directly across Tara's heart.

She wanted to rush in there in the blind belief that her love would lead her to Harry. But Chance was right. Their best hope was the psychic link between them. The connection they had been fighting against for so long was the thing they needed most.

“I think I understand,” she said. “All right. I'll be here.”

Fire trucks screamed into the parking lot, bristling with ladders. Several more halted along the street, followed closely by a paramedic unit and police cars.

“I'd better get in there before the firemen seal it off,” Chance growled. He turned, and nearly collided with his father.

Perspiring heavily, Raymond struggled to catch his breath. “Have you seen them? Did they get out?”

“Lois and Harry? No.” Chance's hands balled into fists. “Where are they? So help me, if they die because of you…”

“They were in the attic,” Raymond gasped. “I never thought—the cigarette must have—I swear, that room
went up so fast, the carpet must have been made of tinder.”

“The attic?” Chance repeated, disbelieving. “Of all the insane, irresponsible places to take my son!”

“They were in a little chamber overlooking the meeting room.” Raymond panted. “Come on. I'll show you.”

The two men ran into the house. They were barely in time. A police officer came by a moment later, securing the area.

“Is anyone inside? Does anybody know if people are missing?” A fire official addressed the crowd through a megaphone.

Tara waved and shouted, but couldn't make herself heard. It was Rajeev who caught the man's attention and explained what had happened.

“The attic?” The official gave an involuntary shake of his head. “That's the worst possible place. We'll get some people up there right away.”

As he departed, Tara forced herself to step away from the crowd onto a grassy median. Despite the adrenaline pounding through her arteries, she needed to concentrate.

Chance might be trying to reach her. And so might Harry.

T
HE FIRE HAD SPREAD
really fast. Harry hadn't figured it would be any big deal, but before he knew it the whole room was filled with smoke and alarms were going off, and he could feel the heat even through the peephole.

Then Lois started acting crazy. “We're trapped! Get me out! Get me out!” she screamed as if Harry were a grown-up who could take charge. The way she was panting like a cornered animal, he thought she might pass out any minute.

Mom had once shown him a videotape about fires, so
he knew that heat rises. They needed to get out of the attic right away.

Downstairs, the men were hurrying from the room. “Call Raymond!” Harry told his cousin. “Tell him to come up and get us!”

After a moment of blank staring, she produced the microphone and clicked it on. “Raymond? Raymond?” She tried for a while, but there was no answer. “It has a limited range. He must be too far away.”

“Do we have to go all the way across the attic?” Harry asked. “Is there another way out?”

“I don't think so,” Lois said. “I guess that's why this area was off-limits.”

Part of Harry's brain told him to trust the adult and let her take charge. That was what six-year-olds usually did.

But it was Lois who'd gotten him into this mess. Although she wasn't shrieking anymore, he could tell she wasn't thinking clearly.

“You just do what Raymond tells you, don't you?” he said. “Well, he's not here now, so you do what I tell you.”

To his amazement, she nodded. It made Harry feel good, until he realized that now everything was up to him.

T
HE LOBBY OF THE CLUB
lay eerily empty, echoing with the shrill noise of alarm bells. Except for the scent of smoke, it looked quite ordinary, with its beige couches and worn carpeting.

Oversize photographs of the house's architectural details, from a weather vane in the shape of a unicorn to a distinctive gable, formed a display across the side wall. One room caught Chance's eye and sent his heart slamming into his throat.

It was a high-ceilinged conference room with a long table down the center. He had seen that room before, or one very much like it

It was the room where Ardath and Valdemar met their deaths.
Curtains ablaze. Men shouting. Flames licking.

He felt a shock of horror, and knew it belonged not only to him but to Tara. At this moment, she was seeing through his eyes, too.

“That's where you held the meeting?” he asked as they hurried past.

Raymond glanced at the picture in surprise. “As a matter of fact, yes.” Chance shuddered, then forced himself to thrust the image from his mind.

He could still feel Tara with him, but the awareness faded as he moved farther from her. Their plan to stay in contact might not work, after all.

Firemen clattered into the lobby behind them as they sprinted past a main staircase. Rounding a corner in the heavy brown haze, they escaped notice, or they would surely have been forced to leave.

Near the end of the corridor, Raymond twisted open an unmarked door. Behind it lay a second set of stairs, musty and obviously little used.

“You know your way around, don't you?” Chance growled, removing his cummerbund and holding it over his mouth to filter the smoke. “How on earth did you figure all this out?”

“I did my research.” Struggling against a fit of coughing, Ray looked older than ever before, with no trace of the customary cockiness. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I never meant any harm.”

Even before Chance was born, he'd been the object of his father's schemes and manipulations. Over the past
dozen years, he'd made sacrifices and taken risks, fighting Ray at every turn to stick to what was right.

Now the man had circumvented him and endangered Harry's life, and Lois's, as well. It seemed a bit late for repentance.

“Don't ask me to forgive you. Not right now.” Pushing past his father, Chance strode up the stairs.

On the first floor, the club had still been illuminated, but the staircase was dark except for a few low-placed red emergency lights. Silently Chance cursed himself for forgetting to bring a flashlight. He'd leapt out of the car without a thought except to find Harry.

The smoke grew thicker as they climbed, stinging his throat and eyes. At the second-story landing, Chance halted, feeling heat billowing down from the attic.

They could go no farther.

T
ARA'S EYES SMARTED
and her skin felt as if it were blistering. Scarcely aware of the firemen hooking up hoses and raising a ladder toward the attic, she struggled to remain in Chance's consciousness.

“What is happening?” asked Rajeev. “Does he need help? I will go in. This is my fault.”

Exhausted, she released her mental grasp. Cool air washed over her in a burst of relief. “The attic's engulfed. They can't go up there.”

“Surely Lois has brought the boy down by now,” Vareena said.

“Then where are they?” Tara asked. “Chance should have seen them on the stairs.”

“Perhaps they have come out on the other side,” Rajeev said. “I will go around and look.”

“I will check in the other direction.” Vareena started off.

“Thanks.” Tara called after them both. “That would help.” After watching the pair depart, she let her eyelids drift shut as she tried to gather her thoughts.

“Excuse me, miss.” It was one of the firefighters. “You'll need to leave the area.”

“My son is inside!” she protested. “And my husband went in searching for him.” The word
husband
slipped out, and she didn't bother to correct it.

“We knew about a boy and a woman missing in the attic,” he said. “You mean there are others?”

“Two men,” she said. “They're on a hidden staircase. They're trying to reach the top floor but there's too much heat.”

The firefighter hurried off. Thank goodness he hadn't insisted she leave, or asked how she knew so much.

If only Harry would make mental contact with her or Chance, Tara thought. But although the boy could read minds and even exert influence over people, apparently he hadn't developed the ability to send his own thoughts to others.

This link between her and Chance was something rare. All she could hope was that its ultimate effect wouldn't be tragedy.

If they hadn't been drawn together on that Halloween night, Harry would never have been born. Each of them would have led a different life, but would that have been so terrible?

By now she might have married some other man and had other children. Would they have meant as much to her as Chance and Harry? Would she have missed the deeper connection, or been content with what she had?