In the Beginning: Mars Origin "I" Series Book I (9 page)

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

“You know, Justin,” amusement replacing
the frown he had worn since the beginning of the conversation. “Crazy people
don’t know they’re crazy. So, agreeing with me that you
are
crazy,
doesn’t help your case. And, it means that there’s still hope for you. So,
maybe instead of going along with your madcap ideas, I should just get you some
help.”

“Michael’s going.” Maybe that would help
convince him.

“Our
brother
Michael?”

“Yes, our
brother
Michael.”

“Why Michael?”

“Because he’s a ninja.”

He rolled his eyes and then hung his head.
He chuckled and took a deep breath, “Michael is not a ninja.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“He thought that when he was six years
old.”

“He still thinks he’s a ninja, ask Regina.
And he’s been in the Marines, special forces and everything so he knows all
about covert missions and plus he’s a teacher.” I knew that should convince
him.

He started that grunting sound again.
“What does being a teacher have to do with this?”

“He’ll fit right in at the University,” I
said.

“Justin, Michael teaches second grade.”

I was definitely losing ground here.

“Claire’s going.” Always good to have
back-up ammunition.

“Claire?” He just started laughing. And,
then just kept laughing. Why was he laughing?

“Greg.” I said very seriously so he would
stop. He didn’t.

 “Why are you laughing and why do you keep
repeating every name I say? What’s wrong with Claire going? She does medical
research and they have some kind of medical research convention going on there,
so that’s our cover. Claire is perfect for this.”

“I just can’t believe that you think
Claire could help. Plus, Justin, you have a Ph.D. and you’ve taught at a
university. You’ve been there and you know where the journals are and what
we’re looking for. Why do you have to make such a big production number out of
it? Why can’t we just go without a ‘cover?’” He made the gesture for quotation
marks with his fingers.

“We? So you’re going?” I perked up.

He held up his hands. “I didn’t say that.”

The perkiness left.

“You just said ‘we’ –
ugh
. It can’t
just be me because they know me there.”

“So?”

“So, if it gets back to the people that
were there they may suspect something. I told you that they’re already trying
to cover this thing up and killing people over it.”

“Stop saying someone was killed, because
you don’t know that.” He looked at me. He really wasn’t being convinced. “I
think you watch too much TV,” he chuckled. “You and your conspiracy theory.”

“I do not watch too much TV, this is
real.”

“I could get disbarred for this.”

“No you can’t, I checked. It’s a foreign
country.” I really hadn’t checked anything but it seemed like the right thing
to say.

“Oh, you checked?” There he goes again,
not believing my lies. “Well, they would deport me back to Ohio and then, you
can be sure, they’d disbar me.”

“Greg, if you don’t help me, I am going to
tell Mommy.” I hated pulling out the big guns, but he was making me do it.

“Tell Mother what?”

“Tell Mommy that you won’t help me with
something that is very important to me.”

My mother hated when we didn’t help each
other out. She always said, “All you have is family and you have to be able to
count on them through thick and thin, no matter what.”

“Justin,” he spoke slowly as if to make
sure I got every word. “I am a 42-year old man. I own not only one home, but
several, in other states even. I have a two-hundred and fifty thousand dollar a
year job, my own practice and have been rated a Super Lawyer. You threatening
to tell our mother about this does not scare me.” He stood up to leave and I
grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. I tightened my jaw and narrowed my
eyes and got real close to his face.

“I will go and tell Mommy, right now.”
This time I wasn’t lying. “I’m not playing Greg, I promise I will tell Mommy
that you won’t help me and when I tell her I will be crying so hard that it
won’t even matter what I want, all she’ll care about is that you won’t help
me.”

If I cried to my mother that Greg wouldn’t
help me, especially after I’d been so depressed that I’d threatened to uproot
my family and move hundreds of miles away, whether what I wanted help with was
the right or wrong thing to do, she would have a fit. She would be so mad at
Greg that it would take him a long time to make it right with her. She would tell
him not to come around her anymore “acting like he cared,” she would say, because
he didn’t “give a hoot about his family.” Then she would top it off with “and,
I don’t want you to even come to my funeral,” (her favorite line when she was
mad at one of us). That would kill Greg.

“You wouldn’t make a scene at your own
daughter’s going away party?” I think he was trying to convince himself of that
but he knew better and my facial expression confirmed it. He also knew our
mother.

“Okay, I’ll go. But only to watch you
guys, make sure you don’t get into any trouble. And, I’m not helping to steal
anything.”

He is such a momma’s boy, forty-two years
old or two years old, he still did whatever his mother told him.

“Thank you, Greg.” I jump on him and give
him a big hug, but I didn’t want him to “choke” me like he always threatened to
do, so I kept my distance.

Callie walked into the room just then. She
knew something was up just by the look on our faces.

Callie and I are close, but, like Mase,
she was not one I could have an adventure with. She was very down to earth.
Nothing had an underlying meaning. It was all black and white. I guess with six
children, and as the principal of a schoolhouse full of them too, she couldn’t
really afford to lend to capriciousness.

She came over and stood behind the chair I
was sitting in. Greg got up. I knew he wanted to make his exit before Callie
started asking too many questions.

“What have you two got your heads together
about?”

“Nothing, Callie, just talking to Justin.”
Greg answered as he leaned over and picked up his napkin off the table.

Ah, our cover-up begins. I could feel the
rush.

“Greg was telling me about some legal case
he has where they have to exhume the body.” I decided to add to the deceit. “He
thought I might be interested. I told him unless the guy had been cooking and
making weapons for hunting while he was six feet under it was of no interest to
me.”

“Justin!” Callie seemed surprise at me
saying that. She knew how I loved my profession and was always defending it
from Greg and Doobie’s cruel jokes. “I guess Mommy is right, ‘association does
bring on assimilation.’ Come on, we better get you away from Greg, you’re
beginning to sound just like him.” As she ushered me out of the room I turned
and winked at Greg. He winked back and smiled.

The day for Courtney to leave for school
came so quickly. She had been accepted at Fisk University and planned to study
Education, like Callie and Michael. Mase had to rent a trailer to hitch to the
back of the car to take all the stuff my family bought her. There were so many
things to see and do in Nashville that the five of us made a mini vacation out
of it.

The campus was beautiful. Located on a
hill overlooking downtown Nashville, the old, august buildings on campus had
placed the University on the National Registry of Historic Landmarks. I told
Courtney if she dyed her hair here like she did at home they would arrest her
for defacing a living history. I helped Courtney pick out her classes and get
registered. We all helped her unpack and set up her room.

After that, she was ready for us to go.
But before we left for home me, Mase, Micah and Logan visited local museums,
Opryland and the Music Valley Wax Museum of the Stars. I didn’t enjoy it as
much as everyone else, though. I cried as we left the campus, left Nashville,
left Tennessee, and when we drove up in the driveway at home. I really was
going to miss my child. I slept in Courtney’s room that night.

I was soon over that, though. October
couldn’t come fast enough. Claire acted like a kid in a candy store she was so
happy to go with me. She just knew we were going to solve the whole mystery and
that I would be famous afterwards. She trusted me completely, which as I’m sure
Greg would note, doesn’t say much for Claire.

And, Claire was excited about the seminar,
too. She got to do what she loved and help me, too. According to Claire nothing
could be better. When I called to make the arrangements for her to attend the
seminar they said, “Oh, Dr. Jackson, very good, we’ll be looking forward to
having her.” It’s like they knew Claire or something. When I mentioned it to
her she said, “They should know me, I’m pretty special.” Who knew what that
meant? ‘Special’ as in mentally challenged? Because that I could agree with. I
know that she has been invited to colleges and seminars as a guest lecturer,
but who could ever imagine Claire could say anything worthwhile? I made a
mental note to go with her next time she spoke so I could hear for myself.

Me, Greg and Claire pretty much ran our
own show and could take off from work without any problem. Michael’s vacation
time was during the summer, so he had to call in sick. Claire could write him a
medical excuse when we got back. I paid for Michael’s trip. I didn’t want him
taking off from work and paying out of his pocket, too, for my conspiracy
theory.

I told my assistant, Nichelle, that I was
going to Israel, but left strict instructions not to tell anyone, especially
Dr. Margulies. I hated not telling the truth to Dr. Margulies. But I didn’t
want him to think I was being foolish.

Was I being foolish?

Well, we would soon find out. I figured
once I found out what was going on, then I would present all the evidence (Greg
told me that) to Dr. Margulies. Then he would be willing to go after those
‘history destroyers.’

The research seminar,
The Effects of
Altering the Peptide Bond Sequence in Immunotherapy
, whatever that meant,
was from October third to the tenth. It was at the Scopus Campus where the
journals were kept.

Claire left for Jerusalem on the first, a
week before me, Greg and Michael. She was being quite the detective and
reasoned that she would have extra time to find out what she could before we
got there. She said it wouldn’t look so suspicious for her to arrive early and
poke around. Now, if only Greg turned out to be that helpful.

I finally spoke to Ghazi again. He tried
to assure me that he had been legitimately sent away on business and that everything
was okay. I told him of my plans to come back to Jerusalem. He told me he was
willing to help us anyway he could. So, I had him pick up Claire from the
airport. Even though Claire made friends easily wherever she went, I felt much
more comfortable knowing that she wouldn’t be there not knowing anyone. After
all, I was the reason she was there in the first place. If anything happened to
her, I wouldn’t ever forgive myself. I knew Ghazi wouldn’t let her out of his
sight.

We arrived in the middle of the week and
three days before the seminar ended. I figured that should be enough time since
there would be five of us, including Ghazi, to find the other journals. And
with Claire gathering information the week before we got there, I was sure it
would be easy sailing.

When we arrived in Jerusalem, Claire was
standing waiting for us at the gate. She had a huge smile on her face and
hugged us like she hadn’t seen us in years.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as we
headed toward the baggage claim area. “I thought you were going to wait for us
at the hotel.”

She hooked her arm through mine and
whispered, “They’ve moved the book.”

“The
book
?” I questioned. Then I
realized what she was saying. “You mean the
journal
?” I asked in
disbelief. She nodded slowly, her eyes opened wide. True to her word, she had
already been playing the detective.

“Moved it? Moved it where?”

“I don’t know.” She hunched her shoulders.

Okay, so not a very good detective.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” We had
come all this way and no journal. Greg was going to kill me. And, this
confirmed my suspicions. Now, I knew there was something going on.

“How do you know they moved it?” I asked.

“Because it’s not there.”

“Not where?” I needed to find out if she
remembered exactly what I told her, she is so easily confused.

“Where you told me it was.”

“Where did I tell you it was, Claire?”

“The corner office on the second floor,
with the big mahogany -”

“Oak. Mahogany is a dark wood.”

“Yeah. Oak door with 204 next to it.”

“The door was a light wood, not dark,
right?” Maybe she hadn’t gone to the right place.

“Yeah, light colored, and anyway, Ghazi
showed me, he would know exactly where to go.”

“You’re right. So, go ahead.”

“Go ahead? Nothing more to tell,” she
said. “The door was unlocked so I just walked in. The book was not there. The
file cabinets were empty. The desk was empty. The only things in the room were
the two file cabinets, a coat rack, a desk with a lamp on it, and a chair.”

What could they have done with it?
I was starting to
get really upset and nervous. “Maybe they knew who you were and that you were
there to help me?” I looked at Claire, she raised her eyebrows. She didn’t have
a clue either.

  “I wish I could figure out what’s going
on.”

“What’s
in
it Justin?” Claire
asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered. My stomach was
beginning to tie up in knots. “That’s why we are all here. So I can find out
what’s in the journals.”

“Well, you saw some of it, right?”

“Yeah, just the part I told you about.”
This was killing me. I had stopped walking and was just standing there looking
at Claire.

“Come on you two.” Greg yelled and got our
attention. He and Michael had gotten ahead of us. “Michael and I already got
our luggage, yours too, Justin. C’mon, let’s get a taxi and get to the hotel. I
need a shower and some food.”

We took a Sherut, which is a Mercedes
limo. One look at the Mercedes emblem and Greg was feeling right at home.  He
was always one for class, with his closet full of three-buttoned silk suits and
eight hundred dollar Italian leather shoes, Egyptian cotton French cut shirts,
and a collection of expensive cars. The Mercedes, especially as a taxi, was
right up his alley. He sat in front. Michael, Claire and I sat in the back.

I whispered to Claire, “Don’t tell Greg
about this. We’ll have to figure something out.”

“Tell Michael. He’ll help you figure out what
to do.”

“Yeah, okay. But not when Greg’s around,
okay?” She nodded. “This is really upsetting to me. I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll come up with something,” she
assured me.

“Yeah, but what?”

We looked at each other. I really didn’t
know what to do. And I knew Claire didn’t either. I had this feeling of
hopelessness. Plus, I was getting scared. If Greg found out that we had come
all this way and no journals - - he really would choke me.