The Transmuter’s Daughter

By

Laurence Dahners

Copyright 2018

Laurence E Dahners

Kindle Edition

Author’s Note

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Thursday morning

Thursday afternoon

Chapter One

Thursday morning

Thursday afternoon

Chapter Two

Friday morning

Friday afternoon

Chapter Three

Saturday morning

Just after midnight

Seven in the morning

Chapter Four

Sunday morning

Sunday evening

Monday morning

Monday noon

Tuesday morning

Tuesday afternoon

Chapter Five

Wednesday morning

Wednesday afternoon

Thursday morning

Thursday evening

Friday afternoon

Friday evening

Saturday morning

Saturday afternoon

Epilogue

Sunday, mid-June

The End

Author’s Afterword

Prologue

Thursday morning

What a dumb ass, Dan Norwood would think later.

Dan was fooling around with one of the electric guitars at Asheville Coin and Precious Metals—which also did some business as a pawn shop. This Daryn Djai guy came through the door and walked right up to the counter, catching Dan’s attention because he didn’t look like the kind of guy who collected coins. He didn’t look like he’d need to pawn stuff either. Old Bucky himself was staffing the counter and went over to Djai. After introducing himself and getting the guy’s name, Bucky sat on a stool and asked, “What can I do for you?”

The guy pulled a whitish-silver chunk of metal out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. It looked to Dan to be about the size and shape of a tablespoon block of butter like you might slice off the end of a quarter pound stick. Djai said, “I’m wondering what kind of rate you can give me for platinum?”

Bucky didn’t exactly roll his eyes, but Dan could tell he had doubts about the platinum claim. However, when Bucky picked up the little chunk of metal, Dan thought he was impressed by its weight. Pulling open a little drawer, he said, “Okay, the first thing we do is test it with a magnet.”

Dan watched as Bucky brought a little magnet up to it. The magnet didn’t stick to it, and in fact didn’t seem disturbed by the metal at all. Bucky said, “It’s not magnetic. That’s one point for platinum.” He looked up at his visitor and said, “I’m gonna rub it on this stone till it leaves a mark. That’s so I can do an acid test on the mark, okay?”

Djai only nodded.

Bucky rubbed it on a jeweler’s stone, then went back in the drawer to get out a little bottle. He said, “Next we see if this acid dissolves the mark.” Dan watched Bucky put a drop of acid onto the stone and wait for about a minute. He nodded, “The mark stayed white. That’s good.” He went back in the drawer and pulled out a little butane torch. Holding it up, he raised his eyebrows at Djai and said, “Next, we heat a spot until it’s red hot, okay?”

Getting another nod, Bucky fired up the torch and heated the block of metal until a spot glowed red. He snapped the torch off and sat back to watch. When it’d cooled, Bucky gave an admiring nod. He said, “it didn’t change color. Means at least the part we can see’s most likely platinum.” As if talking to himself, he continued, “Now, with a big chunk like this, we got to make sure it’s not just a chunk of something else with platinum plating on the outside.” Bucky weighed the small slab of metal and Dan heard him mumble, “338.50 grams.” While Bucky was measuring its displacement, Dan did a search on his phone to learn that 338.5 grams was almost three quarters of a pound.

Dan sat back to think about this. There were 8 tablespoon-sized slices of butter on a quarter pound stick. If it was butter, it’d weigh one thirty-second of a pound. How in the world could something about the size of one slice of butter weigh three quarters of a pound?

Bucky sat back and said, “So, it displaces 15.77 ccs—” He picked up a calculator, “So, that makes its density— 21.46 grams per cubic centimeter. Heavier than gold, which is correct, but it’s even a little too much for platinum.” He picked up a magnifying glass and searched each surface of the little block. He squinted up at Djai, “I can’t see any hallmarks. Is there one somewhere and I’m just not finding it?”

Djai shook his head slowly.

Bucky said, “Let me weigh it and measure its displacement again.” He repeated the steps, then said, “Same result.” He sat back on his barstool and stared down at the chunk of metal. “Might be margin-of-error but—” He turned to his computer and scrolled up and down a little bit. Turning back to Djai, he said, “I guess it might have a little bit of iridium or osmium in it. That’d make it denser than platinum and it’d still pass the platinum tests. Iridium’s more valuable and osmium’s less valuable than platinum according to the chart.” Scratching his head, he said, “Where’d this come from?”

Djai finally spoke again, “I’d rather not say.”

Bucky’s eyes went back to the piece of metal and he started talking, as if to himself. “Let’s say it’s platinum. It’s hard to believe anyone would own enough platinum jewelry to melt it down into a chunk this big. If someone owned some bars or other kind of bullion, it’s hard to imagine them melting a nice hallmarked ingot and recasting it into an odd-sized brick like this.” He looked back up at Djai, “You understand? We’d feel like we were taking a risk, buying something like this, if we don’t know where it came from.”

After a moment, Djai said, “I suppose that means you can’t give me top dollar, right?”

Bucky glanced around the store, pausing on Dan for a moment before his eyes went back to Djai. He nodded, “That’s right.”

Lifting his chin, Djai said, “What would you pay?”

Bucky scratched his chin, “Spot price for platinum’s $29.60 per gram today. Means 338.5g—” he pulled up a calculator and bent over it for a moment. When he sat back up he continued, “Should be worth $10,019. Now you’d never get that, but you’d usually come pretty close. For this stuff though—” he shrugged, “without no provenance, best I could do’d be about $9500.”

Djai stood there for most of a minute without saying anything. Then, “What if I told you I’ve got a platinum mine?”

Bucky tilted his head, “I think I heard there was a mine with some platinum down near Lake Lure, but that was a long, long time ago.” He shook his head, “There ain’t no platinum mining in North Carolina nowadays.”

Djai picked up his chunk of metal and dropped it in the pocket of his jeans. “Well, I guess I’ll see what other people have to offer. Maybe I’ll be back.” He turned and left the store.

Dan stood, “Bucky, what’s the lowest you’ll go on this guitar?”

“Five hundred, just like it says on the tag.”

Dan shook his head disappointedly, “Too rich for my blood.” He settled the guitar back on its stand and went out the door himself. He turned the same direction as Djai. Once he’d cleared the window of the coin and metals place, he pulled out his cell phone in hopes of getting a picture of Djai’s license plate.

***

Dan dropped by Mr. Buckley’s place with the picture of the license plate on Djai’s truck. He told Buckley about Djai and the platinum. Buckley had a fellow in his office who knew how to get Djai’s address and some other general information from the license.

Mr. Buckley turned the screen where Dan could look on and said, “So this’s where he lives.”

Dan studied the map. Djai’s place was in the hills south of Asheville. After giving Dan a minute to look at it, Buckley clicked it over to satellite view and zoomed in on the property. They could only see a piece of roof because there were so many trees. “Can you bring up the topography map?” Dan asked.

Buckley didn’t know how, so Dan showed him. He zoomed out, studied it for a moment, then said, “The creeks there drain into the French Broad River. People pan the French Broad for gold sometimes.”

Buckley frowned, “I thought Djai was supposed to have platinum?”

“He did, but when you’re panning for gold, sometimes you get some little platinum nuggets too.”

Buckley gave Dan a dubious look, “So, you think he might actually have a platinum mine?”

Dan shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe? I can’t think of any other reason why he’d show up with a big chunk of platinum. He’d have to be crazy to melt down jewelry when some of the jewelry might be worth more in its original form.”

Buckley twisted his lips, “Maybe he stole the jewelry. Melting it down makes it untraceable.”

“Maybe. It’d be a lot to steal. I looked it up and that chunk’d represent fifty to sixty typical rings or necklaces.”

Buckley shrugged, “Maybe he’s been stealing jewelry for a living for a long time. He’s been melting down and selling the gold all along and just now saved up enough platinum to sell a chunk of it?”

“So, why didn’t he take it to whoever’s been fencing his gold?”

Buckley grunted and turned to look back at the map displayed on his screen. “Well then, what’s a platinum mine look like?”

Looking into the distance out the window, Dan said, “I don’t rightly know. Wikipedia says that most platinum’s just a byproduct at big copper or nickel mines. Near’s I can tell, a little bit of platinum and some of the other expensive metals just kind of settle out when they’re refining the copper.”

Sounding a little frustrated, Buckley said, “Well then, what’s a copper mine look like?”

“I’m pretty sure most of ‘em are huge open pit mines. There sure as hell isn’t one of them hiding on this map we’re looking at.”

With a snort, Buckley said, “First you tell me he has a mine, now you’re telling me he doesn’t have a mine. What’s it gonna be?”

“I don’t know—” Dan trailed off, but then resumed, “He seemed real smart, you know? Maybe there’s some third option we’re not thinking of.” He stared out the window for another minute, “I’ve got no idea what it’d be though.”

Thursday afternoon

Dan and Rob walked up the private road that wound past Djai’s house. Argo was sitting in the truck out on the road so he could give warning if Djai came back. Dan and Rob’d already rung the doorbell at the ramshackle house. There hadn’t been any answer, so they’d walked around the house, peering in the windows.

They’d seen nothing to disabuse them of the information Buckley’s man had pulled out of the state database. It said Djai was a widower, living there with a teenage son and daughter.

Dan didn’t know what he thought he might see. A black cat outfit belonging to some kind of jewel thief? Miner’s helmet and heavy work gloves? A wizard’s pointy hat, such as might belong to someone who could conjure platinum?

The graveled dirt road they were walking up climbed a relatively steep slope rising up toward the ridge west of the house. The road wasn’t overgrown. In fact, it looked like it’d been graded recently. Dan thought it saw regular use, rather than being something left over from a previous owner.

The road abruptly turned right and plunged into the opening of what looked like a mine shaft. Dan glanced around. Hidden beneath the trees was the side of the mountain, almost steep enough to qualify as a cliff. The opening was bolstered by concrete bulwarks, but they looked old. Dan didn’t know how old, but he thought certainly older than the decade Djai supposedly had lived at this address. If he had to guess, Dan would’ve said the concrete looked at least fifty years old, but he wasn’t an expert.

However, the steel doors closing the entrance only looked about five to ten years old. One stood a little ajar, a massive padlock dangling from its heavy duty hasp.

After surveying the scene for a few moments, Dan stepped forward and rapped on the door that stood open. When nothing happened, he rapped again and called out, “Hello. Anyone here?”

Still no response. Dan looked back over his shoulder at Rob. Rob lifted his arms slightly away from his sides, suggesting puzzlement. Dan spoke into his Bluetooth headset, “Argo, no sign of ‘im, right?”

Argo, a man of few words, came back, “Nope.”

Dan waved Rob over to him. Speaking quietly, he said, “I’m going to have a look-see inside. I won’t have any cell reception in there, so I need you to stand by the door and give me a shout if Djai shows up.”

Rob nodded and Dan activated the flashlight function on his cell phone. Stepping through the opening, he looked around. The tunnel was lighted, though the lights were widely spaced and not very bright. He turned off the flashlight function and started walking deeper into the tunnel, staying closer to one wall. There’re rails on the floor, he realized. This is a mine!

Dan had gone some distance and just gone around a gentle bend in the tunnel when he saw a bobbing flashlight coming from deeper in the mine. His first reaction was to turn and head back out, but the guy’d already seen him. He stopped and waited.

When the flashlight got closer, its owner lifted it to illuminate Dan. The guy had on a helmet and work clothes, as if he were a miner. Dan said, “Hello. I didn’t get any response to my knock, so I thought I’d come in to see if there was anyone here.”

The guy kept coming, and said, “Yeah, someone’s here. Guess I should have a way to lock the door from the inside. You mind heading back out?”

“No problem man,” Dan said, thinking, That’s Djai! Dan wondered how the man had gotten up here and into the mine. Djai’s truck wasn’t up at the mine and it wasn’t down at the house—Dan’s own garage was so full of junk that he never considered the possibility that someone might park a car in one. Trying to put on an affable tone, he slowly started backing toward the opening. He said, “We were hoping to ask you a few questions about your property, though. My boss’s got the gold bug. He’s got me out checking out old mines. We heard they were all out of operation except a few tourist traps. Are you actually working this one?”

“Not for sale,” the guy said. Having gotten pretty close, he lifted the flashlight to Dan’s face. He said, “Aw crap,” in a disgusted tone. “You’re the guy who was picking guitar at the coin and metals place, right?” Despite the questioning tone, the guy obviously didn’t have any doubt. He pointed at the door and said, “Get the hell outta here. You’re trespassing on private property.”

Dan had a temper that reacted badly when he was spoken to rudely. He knew he should just go like the man said. Instead, he took two strides and grabbed Djai in a bear hug. “You shouldn’t talk to people that way,” he growled into Djai’s ear.

Djai stomped on his instep. With a howl of pain, Dan almost let Djai go, but managed to slide his right hand down to grab Djai’s wrist and force it up behind his back. Lifting the smaller man up onto his tiptoes, Dan gritted out, “You shouldn’t a done that, either.” He turned and bellowed toward the tunnel entrance, “Rob, get your ass in here!”

Dan backed up far enough that he could see the door opening. Rob leaned in and called, “How we gonna know if—” Seeing Djai, he cut himself off and started jogging down the tunnel toward them. When he arrived, he looked for a moment at how Dan had Djai up on his toes, then asked, “What’s the plan now?”

“Now,” Dan ground out, “we ask this asshole some questions.” With a little upward jerk on Djai’s wrist, he said, “Like I was askin’ you politely before, are you workin’ this mine?”

His voice tight, Djai said, “Yeah.”

“And what are you mining out of it?”

“Platinum.”

“My understanding now, is platinum don’t come by itself. What else are you gettin’?”

Djai shook his head, “Just platinum.”

“Is that right,” Dan said flatly. He glanced over at Rob, “Take the man’s flashlight and let’s head down the tunnel. We’ll just go have a look at this pure platinum ore body.”

Taking the man’s flashlight, Rob started down the tunnel, leading the way. Dan followed, holding Djai’s wrist up behind his back. As they went, he started wondering how he and Rob were going to get out of this mess. Obviously, they didn’t want the cops involved. The police tended to take a dim view of people who trespassed on property uninvited. With Dan still on probation from some previous felonies, he surely wouldn’t get any sympathy from the police. Maybe we’ll have to kill this bastard? he wondered. We could just brain him with a rock. That wouldn’t leave any clues for the cops, they’d just think a piece of the roof fell in on him.

Dan hadn’t ever killed anyone but he suddenly realized that he’d always considered it inevitable. And I can’t think of any other way to dig myself out from under this particular pile of dog shit.

They were walking between the rails that ran down the tunnel. When Dan stumbled for about the tenth time on the uneven ties under his feet. He said, “Rob! Don’t get so damn far ahead. I can’t see where I’m going an’ I’m trippin’ over shit back here.”

Rob paused, shining the light behind him for a few moments until they caught up. Then, holding the flashlight in his right hand, he pointed it pretty much straight down so its beam illuminated a little way behind him as well as a short distance in front.

There weren’t any more lights on the ceiling and they were around another gentle corner from the last light. The flashlight was the only thing lighting the stygian darkness. It focused Dan’s attention down onto the tracks. He noticed the ties between the rails looked like they were rotting. The rails themselves were rusty; however, there was a small black stripe on top of the rails. The stripe suggested wheels rode the rails occasionally, but it sure didn’t look like a serious ongoing operation. A spatter of drops fell from the ceiling to land on his head. He wished he had on a helmet like Djai.

He also wished he was back out in the light. “How much further are we going?” he asked Djai, suddenly realizing he wouldn’t know an ore body from his elbow.

“As far as you want,” Djai said. “You’re calling the shots here.”

“I mean,” Dan growled, jerking Djai’s arm, “how much further to the ore body. Or, wherever the hell you’re getting’ the goddamned platinum.”

Djai made a funny little hop up into the air. Dan thought he was just trying to take some of the pressure off his arm, but then Djai slammed back into him.

Dan stumbled backward and fell painfully on his butt. In the process, he let go his grip on Djai’s wrist when he put his hands back to break his fall.

Rob’s flashlight bounced, waved wildly about, then disappeared.

Rob shrieked, the pitch of the sound going down as if he were shooting off down the rails.

Absolutely blind in the darkness, Dan fumbled out his gun. With the gun’s reassuring heft in his right hand, he scrabbled in his pocket for his phone. Turning it on, he waved it around, using the light of the screen to make sure Djai wasn’t about to kick him in the head.

As near as he could tell, he was all alone.

Turning the screen of the phone toward him, he swiped down and chose the flashlight icon. He swung the brighter light around as he levered himself to his feet.

He still saw no sign of either Rob or Djai. He turned and looked behind him, but the tunnel was empty back that way as well.

Ahead a couple of steps to his left, Dan saw some roped stakes. They’d been knocked down. As he got closer, he realized they surrounded a hole in the floor of the left side of the tunnel! With a sinking sensation he realized Djai’d leapt up to kick Rob in the butt. A kick that would’ve sent Rob right into the hole!

“Djai, you sonofabitch!” Dan screamed at the top of his lungs. “I’m gonna kill you.”

After sweeping the area around him to be sure Djai wasn’t creeping up, Dan edged up to the hole and looked down into it. He hoped to see Rob lying unconscious at the bottom of a shallow pit.

As best he could tell in the crappy light from his phone, the hole was bottomless. No sign of Rob. He looked down into the hole again, then put a finger over the light on his cell phone. He couldn’t see even a faint glow from Rob’s flashlight.

Son of a bitch! he thought, uncovering the light on his phone and sweeping around again to look for Djai. With no sign of Djai, Dan leaned closer to the hole, cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted down into the bottomless cavity, “Rob! Rob, buddy, you okay?”

He got no answer.

Dan held the phone off to his side—in case Djai had a gun and started shooting at the light—while he stood and thought for a moment. He didn’t think Djai’d gone past him toward the entrance of the tunnel, but if he had, Dan was already screwed. Djai had to be deeper in the mine. Dan realized that going deeper into a dark, dangerous place—one that the other guy presumably knew pretty well—had to be kind of crazy. However, he couldn’t leave the bastard alive.

Not unless he was willing to go back to prison.

Taking a deep breath, he started down the tunnel, walking on the right side and holding his phone and its light out in the middle of the shaft. I’d better not drop this goddamn phone…

***

Realizing she’d been waiting for quite a while, Kiri Djai turned her eyes to the clock in the corner of her laptop’s screen. He’s way late! She thought in irritation. Pulling out her phone, she sent her dad a text, “You going to pick me up?” Her dad claimed he liked picking her up at the college. He said it gave him an opportunity to talk to her about what she was learning, both during her mornings at the high school and in the dual enrollment classes she took on the college campus. Despite his good intentions, when he was hyper-focused on the project up at the mine he often forgot things.

She turned back to her computer, thinking she’d just as well get something done while waiting for him to answer.

But he didn’t answer.

She texted her brother, Lindl. “Did dad say he had plans this afternoon?”

Lindl’s reply said, “Don’t know. On my way to band practice.”

Kiri rolled her eyes; she’d forgotten about her brother’s practice.

Her dad sometimes didn’t notice text messages, so she tried actually calling him on the phone. Still no answer.

Exasperated, she called an Uber. She briefly planned out how she’d hassle her dad for being so inconsiderate, something he was always riding her about. But then a niggling doubt surfaced. After all, the mine was a dangerous place.

Kiri used her phone to log onto the surveillance cameras in the mine. First she pulled up the camera in the first room built into the side tunnel where their platinum synthesis project was located. The cameras were producing images, so the Wi-Fi up there was working and her phone call should’ve gone through to her dad on VoIP. Unfortunately, as she clicked through the cameras she saw all three of the rooms were empty.

When the Uber dropped her at the house, the first thing Kiri did was look in the garage. Her dad’s truck was there, so he hadn’t gone somewhere else.

Where the hell could he be? she wondered. He wasn’t the type to go for a walk in the woods.

She yelled for him

as loudly as she could, just to be sure he wasn’t somewhere in the house. He didn’t respond. To be completely sure, she went down into the basement and looked around. Her dad had a lot of tools and other equipment down there. She pictured some power tool injuring him so badly he couldn’t respond.

He wasn’t in the basement either.

Could he be in some other part of the mine? Why?

She went to the desktop computer in her dad’s office. Using it she called up a display of the feeds from all six of the mine cameras—the three in the rooms as well as the feed from the camera at the mine entrance and the two in the main tunnel. She’d thought her dad was paranoid for putting in all the cameras. Now she felt glad they were there.

Her dad wasn’t on any of the screens. Thinking she’d be pissed when it turned out her dad was fine, she scrolled back through the feed. As she scrolled, she mostly focused on the record of the feed from the tunnel entrance. She expected that the first thing she’d see scrolling backward would be her dad backing into the door at the entrance of the tunnel—a reverse of his leaving the mine on his way down the hill to the house.

Instead, the first activity she came to was a strange guy backing out the door. Since she was watching in reverse, that meant he’d actually been entering. Alarm flashed over her. The guy stood around outside the mine entrance until another guy, a big one, backed out a little later. This meant the big guy went in first, then the little one entered a little later. On the screen, they stood around briefly, then backed down the road and out of sight She paused the video and looked at the time hack. That was hours ago!

She scrolled forward until the two guys entered the mine’s entrance gate, then slowed. She hadn’t seen it on her fast reverse through the record but one of the interior cameras caught the big guy walking down the tunnel. Her dad appeared with a flashlight and went up to the guy. He didn’t look happy, though there wasn’t audio to tell her what he said. Suddenly, the guy grabbed her dad, then twisted his arm up behind his back.

Kiri dialed 9-1-1 as she scrolled further forward to watch them disappear into the depths of the mine. Getting up, she ran to her bedroom to put on her boots.

“9-1-1 operator, what’s your emergency?”

“My dad! A couple of guys have got him!” Boots on, Kiri ran for the door, holding the phone to her ear.

“Okay,” the operator said, “can you confirm your address?”

Kiri shouted their address as she reached into the closet by the door and grabbed the pipe her dad kept stashed there.

“We have police on the way. Are they holding your father in the house, or have they taken him away in a vehicle?”

Kiri stopped running for a moment to answer, “No, there’s an old mine up the hill behind the house. They’ve got him in there!”

The 9-1-1 operator sounded dubious. “Our system locates your cell phone’s just behind your house.”

“Yes. I’m on my way up to the mine. We’ve got security cameras inside the mine shaft. That’s how I saw the guys grabbing my dad.”

“You need to stay away from there and let the police handle it. How old are you?”

“Fifteen.” She considered stopping there, without telling them her thoughts, but decided they needed to know. “I can’t stay away. I’ve got to see if I can help.”

“No! You need to stay out of there. You’re just going to give the police more to worry about.”

“Sorry—” Kiri started jogging again. She hoped it didn’t take the police too long to get there. It was hard to hear what the operator was saying while she was running, but it sounded like the operator was still telling her to wait for the police to deal with the situation.

When Kiri got to the mine’s opening, she quickly slipped through the open door and off to the right side. Normally she would’ve waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but, almost frantic with urgency, she immediately started jogging down the tunnel, her fingers brushing the right sidewall.

She ran until she approached the location of the side tunnel where the three rooms with the transmutation experiments were set up.

The side tunnel was closed off. The woman from 9-1-1 was still talking. Kiri squeezed the cellphone between her palms to damp its speaker and paused to listen. Not hearing anyone coming, she turned on her phone’s light and surveyed the opening. Her dad had mounted a section of tunnel wall on one of the mine’s old rail cars. When the car slid forward, it closed off the irregular opening in the rough side tunnel wall, making it hard to tell there was a door there. Right now the opening was closed tight. Even knowing where the door was located, Kiri had a hard time seeing the cracks between the irregular rock of the door and the rock of the wall.

She paused to think, wondering if her dad and the two men could’ve entered the side tunnel and closed the door behind them. It seemed unlikely, but she decided she should check. She took a few moments to pull up the security cameras’ feeds on her phone. No one was visible, at least in the rooms of the side tunnel.

She looked down the tunnel, deeper into the mountain. The lights ended about a hundred feet further on, and she’d never gone much beyond where the lights stopped. Where the hell are the police?

Kiri lifted the phone to her ear. The 9-1-1 operator was saying, “Hello, hello! Kiri, are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy. How much longer until the police get here?”

“They’re there. They say no one’s home. Where are you?”

“Up at the mine! I told you I was going up to the mine!”

“Our system isn’t pulling any GPS data from your phone anymore. What’s happened?”

Trying not to yell, Kiri said, “I’m inside the mountain. There’s no GPS in here. Are the cops coming up to the mine?!”

“Um, yeah. Just a sec.” The operator was off line a moment, then came back. “Okay, they should be there in a few more minutes. Wait for them, okay?”

Despite her misgivings, Kiri’d already started walking deeper into the tunnel. “Sorry, I’ve got to keep trying to find my dad. I’d never forgive myself if I could’ve made a difference.”

“Kiri! Wait for the professionals!”

“Sorry. I should tell you that my phone’s communicating using a voice over internet protocol on the Wi-Fi system here in the mine. The Wi-Fi doesn’t go much deeper into the mine than I’ve already gone. I’ll probably lose you in a little bit.”

“Don’t! Don’t go any deeper! The police’ll need to be able to communicate with you.”

“Sorry,” Kiri said as she kept walking. She turned on her phone’s light as she passed the last ceiling light and it got really dark. Nonetheless, she kept walking. She felt dismayed when she saw the broken stake and rope barrier around the down-shaft. Edging close to it, she turned her phone’s light down into the hole. The beam faded into the utter blackness in the depths of the hole. “Dad?” she called down into the cavity. When there was no response, she shouted it again, as loud as she could.

Still no response. Lifting the phone, she said, “Are you still there?”

Though the transmission had begun breaking up, she heard the operator speak unhappily, “Yes, I’m still here. Please don’t go deeper into the tunnel.”

Kiri spoke into the phone, “Tell your men there’s a deep down-shaft in the left side of the floor of the tunnel about 100 feet beyond the last lights. It had a stake and rope barrier around it, but the barrier’s broken. Your guys’ll want to be careful.”

“Okay. Please stay there to warn them when they get to that point.”

“Sorry,” Kiri said as she resumed walking. She’d never been more than a little way beyond the down-shaft, so from here on the tunnels were new to her. Her dad had told her there were side tunnels beyond this point, so she started trailing her fingers along the right wall so she wouldn’t miss one. That way if her light went out, she’d be able to find her way back out of the mine by trailing her left hand against that same wall.

Kiri saw a brief flash of light deeper in the tunnel. It looked like it’d come from around a bend. “Dad?” she called out.

Suddenly the wall she’d been trailing her hand along disappeared. She paused and reached out for it.

A big arm wrapped itself around her neck from her right. No! she thought.

As she twisted and flailed, her phone slipped out of her fingers, falling facedown. She swung her pipe blindly back up over her shoulder, smacking the guy in the head and eliciting a curse. His right arm reached around her body, trapping her right arm under it. His meaty right hand grabbed her left arm just below the elbow to inexorably trap both arms. Desperately, she flailed the pipe at his legs using the limited mobility of her right wrist.

His left arm released her neck and that hand slid down over her body to her right hand. He jerked the pipe loose. For a moment she thought he was going to hit her with it, but then the pipe also rattled to the floor of the tunnel.

She started trying to kick back at his legs with her feet, but the impacts didn’t seem to have be bothering him much. His left arm rose back up around her neck and tightened. The man’s lips came down against her ear. Dispassionately, he said, “Hold still, or I’ll choke you out.”

Her neck felt like it was being crushed. Unable to breathe, Kiri stopped kicking. Her mind began gibbering in fear.

She’d always thought herself so capable.

She dealt with things.

She didn’t panic.

She was almost always right.

None of those things were true at the present. I should’ve waited for the police!

The guy eased up on her neck and she sucked in a breath. He lifted his mouth away from her ear and called out, “Djai. I’ve got your daughter. Get your ass back here and tell me where the platinum is before I decide to hurt her.”

“The police are almost here,” Kiri gasped out desperately.

“Sure they are,” the man said, a total lack of belief evident in his voice.

“They are! I called 9-1-1.”

“Sure you did,” he growled in her ear, “Now, shut up before I choke you unconscious.” He produced a nasty giggle, “Turns out I kinda like chokin’ girls.”

Kiri heard her dad’s voice from further down the tunnel. “Okay, I’m coming. Just don’t hurt her.”

The man said, “Get back here, now, before I do.”

“I’m coming. I’m coming.”

A light came on down around a bend in the tunnel. Kiri could hear faint footsteps and the light started getting closer.

Moments later, the light came fully into view. It looked like a cell phone’s light. The guy ground into her from behind. Squirming and twisting away, she said, “Oh, gross!”

He chuckled, “Like that, do you? Go ahead and squeal a little bit. Maybe your dad’ll start making better time.”

Kiri’d been about to scream, instead, she pressed her lips together and kept squirming away from the bastard. His right arm let go, allowing her to pull her body away, though she was still pinned to him by her neck.

Where the hell are the cops?! she wondered. While wondering where his right hand had gone, she felt gently downward with her right hand. A light skittering of her fingers told her where his crotch was. He said, “Oh, you want some of—”

His words cut off as she lifted her hand away, then slammed the heel of her hand back into his balls.

There was a bright flash down by her right hip. A simultaneous thundering bang—so loud it hurt her ears—echoed through the tunnel. Oh my God! she thought, He’d pulled out a gun! The man curled over in pain, forcing her down as he did so.

Her dad’s light fell to the tunnel floor.

Behind her someone shouted, “Police! Drop your weapon!” They were hard to hear over the ringing in her ears.

The guy grunted, “You little bitch!”

A blow knocked her onto the rails. Dazedly, she thought, He pistol-whipped me! Then, He should have held onto me as a hostage against the cops. As soon as she thought it, she scrambled further down the tunnel away from him, crabbing low on her hands and feet toward her dad. When she’d made 20 feet without being captured, she thought about standing up, but decided not to try running in the utter darkness, especially on the rough surface between the rails.

The only light was a trickle leaking from under her dad’s cellphone on the ground ahead. That plus the flashing beams of police flashlights moving around behind. She started running crouched over, her fingers touching over the rails for guidance, and ready to catch her if she stumbled.

Reaching her dad’s cellphone, she started to lift it but realized the light might make her a target. “Dad?” she whispered.

A strained, “Sorry Kiri—” was all that came back.

Panicked, she lifted the phone and swept it around. Her dad was lying several feet away, clutching his side. Scrambling to him, she said, “Dad! Did you get hit?” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t considered the possibility when the gun went off.

He nodded reluctantly.

She turned and shouted over her shoulder, “Police! My dad’s been shot!” Looking at the face of his phone—she didn’t even glance at the row of bars quantifying the cell signal—her eyes checked the Wi-Fi signal. None. She turned back over her shoulder again, shouting, “Call an ambulance!” Turning back to her dad, she said, “Where’d it hit you?”

He nodded down to where his hands were clutching his left side.

“Let me see,” she said, tugging gently upward on the hem of his T-shirt.

He lifted his hand so she could pull the shirt high enough to see the little round wound from the bullet. To her relief it looked like it was below his ribs on his left side, not up near the heart or lungs. “It isn’t bleeding much,” she said hopefully.

“Good,” he said, sounding as if he were trying to soothe her. He pulled a wad of T-shirt material back over the hole and resumed applying pressure. “Hey—” He trailed off.

“Hey, what?” she asked. Then, glancing back over her shoulder, she said, “I need to get back there and make sure someone’s called for an ambulance.”

“Good idea,” he said in a strained voice. “But—” He paused, but before she could urge him on, he continued, “If I don’t make it, call Morgan. He’ll take care of you guys.”

“Your— brother?!” escaped her lips before she bit off her response and said with all the assurance she could muster, “Let’s not worry about that. You’re gonna make it.” She turned and checked back over her shoulder again. To her dismay, the flashlights she thought belonged to the police were still a long way away. She yelled again, “Did you call an ambulance? My dad’s been shot!”

Someone shouted back, “Drop your weapon!”

Kiri turned back to her dad, furious, “I’ve gotta go call the ambulance myself.”

He grabbed her wrist, “Morgan’s a great guy. We fought— But it was mostly my fault. He’ll take care of you guys. My will’s in the file drawer.”

Before she could choke up, Kiri pulled away, “I’m getting help so we won’t have to worry about any of that stuff.” Pointing the light from her dad’s cell phone down at the floor of the tunnel in front of her, she started running. After a moment she shifted over to the left side of the tunnel to make sure she didn’t accidentally fall into the down-shaft on the right. She shouted ahead of herself, “I’m on my way out to call 9-1-1 for an ambulance!”

“Drop your weapons and get down on the ground!” came from up ahead.

They have no idea what’s going on, she thought in frustration. “I’m the owner’s daughter,” she shouted, still running. “He’s been shot. I’m going out to call an ambulance. I have no weapon!”

“Stop and get down or we’ll shoot!” Then there was a bang and a flash. What Kiri thought was a ricochet whizzed by her.

She stumbled to a stop and crouched.

Putting her hands up in the air, she shone the light of the phone down on herself. “Owner’s daughter! Unarmed! Going to call for an ambulance!” In a crouch, she started forward again.

“If you don’t get down on your stomach, you’re gonna get shot!”

“Oh Christ!” Kiri swore, dropping to her knees, then to her stomach. “For God’s sake, make it fast so I can call an ambulance! My dad’s been shot!”

“Hands behind your head.”

You’ve got to be shitting me! Kiri thought, setting down the phone and putting her hands behind her head. “Hurry, please!”

“Where’s the gun?”

“With the asshole who shot my dad! I’m unarmed!”

A powerful police flashlight swept around and down the tunnel, then focused on her for a moment. She heard boots approaching down the right side of the tunnel. She said, “You really should stay on the other side of the tunnel. That side has a down-shaft you could fall into.”

“Oh, okay,” a guy’s voice said. He sounded young. His footfalls shifted to the other side of the tunnel and got closer. “I’m going to pat you down.”

“Okay.”

Hands brushed lightly over her, then he said, “Turn over.”

To her relief, he didn’t touch the front of her. He said, “Oh— You’re just a kid.” She thought he must also have realized she couldn’t possibly be hiding anything in her snug jeans and tank top. “Okay. Go call an ambulance. Sorry…”

Kiri cut him off by scrambling to her feet. Picking up the phone, she pointed the light ahead of her and started running as fast as she could. As soon as she approached the lighted section of the tunnel, she slowed and looked down at the phone. There was a fair Wi-Fi signal, but the phone had locked itself! For a moment she panicked over the thought that her dad might’ve changed his password. Then she remembered you could call 9-1-1 without unlocking the phone.

She dialed. A moment later a male operator picked up. Kiri said, “Hello, this’s Kiri Djai. You guys sent the police to our place because a couple of guys grabbed my dad.” Incongruously, her thoughts stumbled over the fact that she wasn’t sure she told the police there were two guys. “We need an ambulance. My dad’s been shot!”

“Your phone’s not giving us a location.”

“Yes, we’re in a mine shaft up behind the house on our property. You’ve already sent police there.”

Dubiously, the guy said, “If you’re in a mine shaft, how are you talking on a cell phone?”

My God! Kiri thought, but tried to explain without shouting at the man. “The mine’s wired for Wi-Fi. I’m talking to you on VoIP. Do you need the address?”

“No, I’ve found the incident. Wait, give me the address just to be sure. I’m already scrambling an ambulance.”

Moments later, Kiri was running back down the tunnel toward her dad. When she came up behind the police, one of them put his hand out, “Wait, we still don’t have the scene under control.” He glanced back at her, “You told them shots have been fired?”

“I told them my dad’d been shot. So, yeah.”

“Did they say they’re sending more units?”

“No,” Kiri said, edging past him. “But I sure hope so.”

“Wait! Don’t go down there, we don’t know where the perps are!”

“I’ll have to take my chances,” Kiri said breaking into a run. “I’ve got to get back to my dad.”

Her dad didn’t have a pulse.

Through her tears, Kiri did CPR for what seemed like forever. Finally, some paramedics showed up. They took over the CPR, hooked up EKG leads and started IVs through which they gave fluids and some meds. Kiri rested, sobbing against the wall of the tunnel. However, eventually one of the paramedics borrowed her dad’s phone to go back to the Wi-Fi zone and talk to a doctor in the emergency department. Kiri heard the other two talking about how they couldn’t transport her dad and keep doing CPR since the wheels on their stretcher wouldn’t roll on the rough tunnel floor. When the paramedic who’d gone to call the doctor got back, he said, “Still pulseless?”

They stopped CPR for a moment, then the woman said, “clear her throat Yeah.”

“EKG still flat?”

“Yeah,” the woman said, sounding like the voice of doom.

The paramedic who’d talked to the doctor sounded like the voice of doom as he said, “Call it.”

A woman cop restrained Kiri as she fought to try to resume the CPR herself.

Ultimately, Kiri found herself being guided up and out of the tunnel. She was surprised to find out it was still light outside. The woman kept an arm around her shoulders as they walked down the road to the Djai’s house. A policeman walked with them. It didn’t seem to matter how much Kiri blinked and rubbed at her eyes, her vision stayed blurry.

When they opened the back door and stepped inside, Lindl called down from his room in an irritated tone, “Where’ve you guys been?” There was a brief pause. Kiri tried to think what to say, but before she even tried, Lindl followed with, “And why haven’t you been answering your phones?!”

Kiri tried to say something, but all that came out was a croak. The woman leaned close and quietly asked, “Is that your brother?”

Kiri nodded and tried to clear her throat.

The woman called up the stairs, “Lindl, I’m afraid something’s happened—”

There was a brief period of silence, then Lindl appeared on the stairs. “What’s happened?” He sounded apprehensive, but apparently decided Kiri must’ve gotten in trouble. Eyes on her, he said, “What’d you do?”

Kiri knuckled at her eyes and croaked out, “Lindl—”

In a voice filled with sudden dread, Lindl said, “Where’s Dad?”

Kiri just shook her head. The woman, still with an arm around Kiri’s shoulders, said, “Lindl, come downstairs. You need to sit down so we can tell you what’s happened.”

“Where’s Dad?!” Lindl screamed, punching his fist through the wall.

Chapter One

Thursday morning

The day everything went to hell, Morgan Djai woke with great expectations. The software company he and four friends had founded was in the midst of negotiations to be bought out by a megacorporation. Google, Apple, Amazon, and Microsoft had all been placing bids. Everyone working at their little company held some ownership so there wasn’t a soul in the place who wasn’t excited about the impending sale. Some of the numbers bandied about for the sale were so high they seemed ridiculous, but even the more moderate prices represented a windfall for everyone concerned.

They’d developed a natural language virtual assistant named Matilda. Like other virtual assistants, she responded to users’ questions. In her case the user could speak a question and she then assisted with the use of programs and web services on their computers. Originally derided as unnecessary, or only helpful to those totally lacking in basic computer savvy, the program had rapidly gained millions of users. It turned out that even many relatively expert users loved being able to speak simple questions and get help without having to find, read, and comprehend answers on various websites. These included things from, “Matilda, how can I find my home networking password?” to, “Where’s the ‘contact us’ information on this webpage?” In response, Matilda didn’t just give instructions; she’d open the correct part of the control panel or website, then use flashing icons to guide the user’s attention to the next steps, all the while giving verbal or text-box instructions.

To Morgan’s surprise, people adored the flashing icons that led you to your next step or pointed out features you hadn’t seen. They were so popular that some people kept the program in an always-on state. Morgan had developed a feature that had it constantly highlight the most likely next steps or choices for whatever the user was doing.

Many had pooh-poohed Matilda as not providing anything that couldn’t be found with a Google search. However, using cloud computing, neural networks and continuous quality improvement logic, Matilda quickly became an invaluable aid to millions of people who struggled to understand and follow the obtuse instructions found on various how-to websites. She’d become surprisingly quick and made doing almost anything on your computer easier.

More importantly, there’d been plenty of people who, pre-Matilda, just gave up during such struggles. They just didn’t use that website or program. Now they used Matilda to help them employ sites and programs they’d avoided in the past. Not only was Matilda able to help users with difficult programs and websites, the company was also selling information back to the corporations who’d developed the difficult software. Those companies used the information to improve the parts of their programs or websites that weren’t as intuitive as they’d thought.

Then Matilda sold the companies advice on how to actually make their software user friendly.

As time went on, Matilda continued to improve rapidly, getting better and better at what she did and attracting more and more users. Matilda’d been attracting purchase offers for some time now and the partners had finally decided to sell.

Morgan felt like whistling as he performed his morning ablutions. However, he didn’t want to wake his wife Arlette. She didn’t usually get up until nine and she’d be pissed if his cheerful mood interrupted her sleep.

Besides, Morgan liked her a lot better when she was asleep.

As Morgan quietly opened the bathroom door in preparation for his escape, he saw to his dismay that Arlette was awake. Lying on her side with her head propped on her hand, she resumed last night’s harangue. “So, have you thought about it?”

“Arlette,” he said patiently, “all I’ve done’s sleep since—”

Her face tightened and she interrupted quietly but forcefully, “Are you gonna have the balls to demand what’s rightfully ours? Or am I going to have to come down there and do it myself? Do you even care how badly your family’s getting screwed?”

Morgan’d had the original idea for Matilda. It had started at his first job, out of the frustration of having to help people use a clumsily designed but important piece of commercial business software. His first little virtual assistant had proven so popular that he was soon fending off multiple suggestions that he do something similar for other software programs. Finally, he decided to start a company to do just that. He’d done almost all the programming for Matilda. He’d also organized the enormous online database that Matilda consulted to produce her answers. Morgan’s wife, Arlette, argued vehemently that he should never have agreed to splitting the majority of the company’s ownership evenly among the five original partners. Each of them owned one-sixth of the company and the remainder of the employees shared the last sixth.

On the other hand, when he started the company, Morgan felt like he wasn’t suited for the roles of CEO, CFO, or marketing guru. He certainly couldn’t handle them and also do the programming. He particularly didn’t want to try to handle the plethora of legal issues. It’d been almost a miracle that he’d had four good friends, each of whom had skills in one of those areas.

Better yet, they all got along.

“Arlette,” he said tiredly, sick to death of her all-consuming avarice, “We don’t need a bigger share. We’ll get plenty of money out of this deal and I’m not going to try to screw my friends to get more.”

“Morgan, I just want you to demand your fair share. I’m only hoping to prop up your manhood just long enough for you to insist on getting what reasonably belongs to us. You need to tell those sons of bitches that if we don’t get 50% of the whole thing, you’re taking the software and leaving. That whole company amounts to nothing without our software.”

“Goodbye Arlette,” Morgan said sadly, closing the bedroom door on her as he exited. For a moment outside his son’s door, he paused to school his features into a pleasant expression. Opening the door, he said, “Rise and shine, Adam. Breakfast in a few.”

Morgan headed down the stairs without checking to be sure Adam was rolling out. Like most teenagers, Adam liked to sleep in, but he never had to be hassled about getting up. When they’d proven to be infertile, Arlette had insisted they adopt, riding roughshod over Morgan’s concerns. She’d been joyous at first, but gradually lost interest in their son as he got older. To Morgan’s surprise, despite his initial opposition to the adoption, the boy had proven to be the great joy of his life. Now a teenager, Adam had his difficult moments, but generally he was bright, affable, and a joy to be around.

Morgan had sausage and eggs on toast ready by the time Adam got downstairs. He enjoyed the simple tasks required to produce an ordinary breakfast.

Arlette had presumably gone back to sleep since no strife roiled their breakfast.

Adam’s school was close to Morgan’s route to work, so he dropped his son off like he usually did. Actually, Adam drove as far as the school. At sixteen, Adam had just obtained his driver’s permit and never missed a chance to drive. During the drive they talked about Adam’s robotics club. Especially the club’s ongoing attempt to build a fighting bot. As Adam was getting out of the car, he turned back, “Dad, you think you could help us with some programming issues this weekend?”

“Sure.” Morgan lifted an eyebrow, “Though I haven’t had much practice programming killer instincts, you know?”

***

When Morgan got to work, the Matilda lobby was packed with angry people. He immediately saw Barry Reamer, one of his programmers, holding a cardboard file box and looking pissed off. Morgan turned to him, “What’s going on?”

Barry gave him a dubious look and said in an angry tone, “You’re trying to say you don’t know?”

Morgan frowned and shrugged, “I have no idea.”

“No one’s being allowed in the building. They’re handing out pink slips and telling us that we’re all terminated employees, not shareholders.”

Morgan drew back and gave him a doubtful look, “You’re shittin’ me, right?”

Barry glanced down at the file box in his arms, “See this? It’s my personal effects. Last night, someone cleaned out my office, jammed my stuff in this box and brought it down here to the lobby.”

Morgan stared at the box, seeing “Barry Reamer” written on it with black felt marker. Morgan shook his head. He muttered, “There must be some mistake,” and started across the room. As he moved, his eyes searched for one of the other four founding partners. Failing that, he hoped to see someone from one of the big companies who’d been bidding to buy Matilda.

Seeing no one fitting those descriptions, he headed for the focus of the angry people. Working his way into the center of the group, he found only Steve and Mike, two of the security guards that watched Matilda’s lobby. Alarmingly, there were a bunch of other security types he’d never seen before standing behind them. Steve was trying to answer people’s questions, but Mike’d been watching Morgan work his way through the crowd. Morgan said, “Mike, what’s going on?”

Mike, probably in his sixties, looked troubled. He shook his head sadly and said, “I surely don’t know.” He turned to the stack of cardboard file boxes behind him, slid one out, and handed it to Morgan. “This one’s yours. The envelope taped to the top of it is supposed to have an explanation.” He shook his head, “The rest of the guys haven’t been very happy about what it says.”

Morgan stared at the box. For a moment he was tempted to refuse to take it—as if that might make all this go away. Shaking off the wishful thinking, he took the box from Mike and turned to go somewhere less crowded. Suddenly, John Marks, the guy who’d been haranguing Steve, focused on Morgan. “Hey, Djai! You’re one of the big five. Tell us what the hell’s going on.”

Inhibited by the file box in his hands, Morgan made a clumsy shoulder shrug, then said, “I’ve got no idea. I’ve been just as blindsided as the rest of you guys. I’m going to go read my letter and see if I can catch a clue.”

“Come on! You don’t seriously expect us to believe you didn’t know about this ahead of time, do you?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just as clueless as everyone else. If going through this box gives me any ideas, I’ll let you guys know.”

Morgan made his way toward the big windows at the front of the lobby. He couldn’t help notice the sullen glares directed at him, but didn’t know how to react to them.

Though he’d never been one to demand gestures of respect, he certainly noticed their absence. First, Marks addressing him somewhat impolitely as, “Hey, Djai,” then people not moving out of his way as he crossed the room. When he reached the tastefully scattered couches and tables over near the window he found them full of angry-looking people. In the past he’d have felt a little embarrassed because people would’ve gotten up to give him a chair in such a situation. Not today though. He wound up sitting on the floor, leaning against the frame of the window.

Tearing the tape off his box, he lifted its lid. Inside he found his picture of Arlette and Adam. He realized with some surprise that it was ten years old. The Adam in the picture was six, about the age Arlette had really started to find him annoying. Despite having the photograph sitting on his desk for all those years, he felt shaken to realize it was the last family photo Arlette had ever arranged.

And Morgan wasn’t in it…

There were a couple of diplomas and awards that’d been framed on the walls of his office. The only other items in the box were his Rubik’s cube and a note saying that he was expected to return his company laptop within forty-eight hours. Wow, he thought, I thought I had more personal stuff in my office… He considered for a moment. But I’m pretty sure this’s everything I had there. What’s that say about me?

He closed the box and pulled the envelope off the front of it. Shouldn’t I be in some kind of incandescent rage? he wondered. People had always said he was surprisingly calm in a crisis. Now he wondered if he simply lacked emotion. He opened the letter and stared at it.

Dear former employee,

Matilda Enterprises has been purchased. For now, we’re not at liberty to divulge the name of the company who won the bid. The new owners are only interested in the hardware and software components of Matilda and have not elected to retain any of her employees. You are now free to seek employment elsewhere.

As you know, your previous status as a shareholder was superseded by the new employee agreement you signed last month. As a reward for your service to Matilda Enterprises, you will receive the agreed upon severance bonus equal to your annual salary multiplied by the number of years you worked for Matilda.

Thank you for all your hard work.

Sincerely,

Alan Frank

CEO, Matilda Enterprises

As he read the letter, a sick bile rose in Morgan’s stomach. They’d formed Matilda seven years ago. Seven times his annual salary was a nice chunk of change, but it was nothing compared to the expectation that he’d receive approximately a one-sixth share of a sale that everyone hoped would be over a billion dollars.

He did a quick calculation and realized the regular employees wouldn’t be getting nearly as much as they’d have expected from the shares they owned either.

He was thinking, There must be some mistake… when his mind’s eye flashed back to an evening when, working late, he’d stopped by Alan’s office. He’d found Norm Cox, the CFO, and Terrence Henry, their legal beagle, in with Alan. They were all huddled over some paperwork. He hadn’t been worried to find that three of the five original owners were meeting without him or Roger Knowles, their marketing guru. He’d asked those guys to join him in forming the company precisely because he hated dealing with paperwork and organizational issues.

But now, as he thought back on it, he remembered that they’d looked startled. More startled than he’d have expected to have their door opened after hours. He’d kidded them about working too hard and they’d laughed along, but it’d been strained. In hindsight, he thought they may have looked guilty. They could’ve been planning this way back then!

He felt pretty sure that it’d been sometime after that that Terrence Henry’d had him sign an “updated employment contract.” A contract Terrence claimed they had to have in order to negotiate the sale. Morgan hadn’t read the contract. After all, he’d trusted Terrence for legal advice since they graduated college.

And I guess I shouldn’t have, he thought. Shit!

Getting out his cell phone, he scrolled through his contacts and called Alan. He got a message, “Mr. Frank’s unable to take calls at this time.” Not even calls from me… Morgan thought, his suspicions gelling.

Morgan tried calling Norm Cox, then Terrence Henry. Both of them had the exact same “unable to take calls at this time” message.

He dialed Roger, thinking about the times that he and Roger’d joked that Morgan created their product and Roger sold it. They’d thought that Alan, Norm, and Terrence were riding their coattails. Roger answered quietly, “Hey Morgan, I’m in a room at my doctor’s office. If he comes in I might have to hang up on you.”

Roger doesn’t have a clue either, Morgan thought. “I’m guessing you don’t know anything about what’s going on at Matilda this morning.”

“No,” Roger said anticipation showing in his voice, “did the sale go through?”

“Yeah—” Morgan said, trailing off as he wondered how to explain what he thought’d just happened. Explain it to someone he thought might be his only remaining true friend.

Roger’d apparently heard the unhappiness in Morgan’s voice. Sounding apprehensive, he said, “Did something go wrong?”

Morgan sighed, then explained the situation in the building lobby, told him about the letter, and described his suspicions. “Did you sign an updated employment contract too?”

Bleakly, Roger said, “Yeah.”

“Did you read it?”

“No, I trusted Terrence—” Neither of them said anything for at least a minute, then Roger almost whispered, “What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know. I guess we should talk to a lawyer,” Morgan said, despair folding around him. Maybe Roger and I could start another company…

Abruptly sounding firmer, Roger said, “I’ve got some ideas, but I don’t think we should talk about them over the phone. Wanna have waffles?”

“I already had breakfast—” Morgan paused when he realized he’d completely missed the point of the question. “But, a waffle does sound really good right now.”

“Um, don’t turn in your company laptop yet, okay?”

“Okay, when do you want to meet?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“What about your doctor’s visit?”

“It wasn’t urgent. This is. I’m already out in his parking lot. See you at our usual place.”

Putting away his phone, Morgan stood, leaving his box on the floor. He looked around at the people in the lobby. Most of them already had some attention focused on him so he only cleared his throat, “The letter attached to my box said I’m getting laid off, with a severance fee amounting to my annual salary multiplied by the number of years I worked for Matilda. I’m betting you got much the same thing, right?”

An angry affirmative growl arose from the men and women in the lobby.

“I think we’re all getting screwed.” He paused for a few moments to let that sink in. “It’s clearly not the deal you were told you were getting when you were hired. It isn’t what I, as one of the five founders, thought you were getting. It’s also not the expectation everyone who’s worked here has had while they helped build this company. Admittedly, it’s a much better deal than most people get when they’re laid off from a company, but such companies are failing, not going concerns like Matilda.” He shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t fully understand what’s just happened. I’ve talked to Roger Knowles and he had no idea this was going to happen either. I’ve tried to reach Frank, Cox, and Henry, but they’re not taking my calls. Perhaps that’s innocent, but it’s got me concerned that they may be doing an end run on all of us.” He took a deep breath, “I’m about to start trying to figure out what I can do about this. If you’ve got any bright ideas, please send me an email. If you, like I, got told you needed to sign a new employment contract, but that it was a mere formality related to the sale of the company. If you were given the implication that you didn’t really need to read through it—and you didn’t—please send me an email letting me know just how that went down.”

Morgan bent over and picked up his box. As he started for the door, people surged toward him shouting questions and making suggestions. He stopped, his hip against the bar that opened the door. He raised his voice and said, “I’d like to stay and listen to what you have to say. But, I feel that there’s significant urgency that I get started doing what I can about this. Please send me emails at my personal address.” He tore the envelope with its tape off the front of his box, attached it to the glass door and wrote in his personal email address for those who didn’t know it. “I’ll want to read what you have to say after I get the ball rolling. If you have things you want to tell me that you think are confidential, I’ll work out a way for us to meet.” He pushed the door open and headed for his car.

***

Ye Olde Waffle Shoppe wasn’t busy that time of the morning. Morgan found Roger sitting in one of the booths with a stranger. Morgan said, “Hi,” to Roger and turned his eyes to the other man, “Who’s this?”

Roger said, “This’s my wife’s brother, Vic Naylor. His legal office’s two doors down from here. I thought he might give us some quick advice.”

As Vic shook Morgan’s hand, he said, “I mostly handle family law, divorces etcetera. Corporate contract law isn’t my field, but,” he shrugged, “I know the basics.” He grinned and winked, “And, I know some people.”

Roger said, “I’ve been explaining what I know while we waited for you.”

Morgan turned to Vic and said, “What do you think?”

Vic raised his eyebrows, “About the contract they had you sign? Of course, my advice would be that you should always read a contract before you sign it. In these days of exhaustive Internet user contracts for even the simplest of apps, we’ve all kind of forgotten how important reading a contract can be. But, before you signed one that might be worth millions of dollars…” He shook his head ruefully, then took a deep breath, “However, what’s done is done. It’s pretty hard to give an opinion on this particular contract because we don’t even know what it said.” He shrugged, “However, if your suspicions are correct—that the revised contract resulted in your giving up rights that your original contract provided—and, if they ‘secured execution of the document by deception or fraud,’ there may be legal remedy. However, you’re going to need more than just a pout for evidence that you were deceived.”

“What about testimony from a hundred some odd employees? From talking to them, they were each talked into signing the same contract on reassurance that it was just legal mumbo-jumbo related to sale of the company and didn’t really affect their own situation.”

Vic nodded, “Such testimony might be damning to some extent. Especially if you can prove it. Any evidence you could generate would really strengthen your case. It’d be awesome if you found some audio or video recordings of somebody being talked into it.”

The three of them discussed tactics for another hour; then Vic left, saying he needed to get back to his office. He promised to find them a law firm with experience in such contractual issues and took his leave.

Morgan started to leave when Vic did, but Roger tugged on his shirt and quietly said, “Hold on a minute, okay?”

Morgan turned to him, “What’s up?”

Roger was sitting back down. He patted the seat next to him in the booth and asked quietly, “You’ve still got your work laptop?”

Morgan nodded, “Yeah, but I don’t know why I wouldn’t turn it in. It’s not as good as my personal laptop.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know that much about the programming end of things. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t give it up until we were sure we don’t need it if we wanted to do something to…” Roger subsided uncertainly.

“Something to what?” Morgan prompted.

“Um, maybe degrade Matilda somehow? I don’t know what you could do that they couldn’t undo, you’re the computer wizard. But I thought we might be able to bring them to the negotiating table a little faster if—”

“Sabotage?” Morgan said dubiously. Seeing from the look in Roger’s eyes that impairing Matilda was exactly he had in mind, Morgan said, “I don’t know—” he paused, mind racing.

“It’d only serve them right,” Roger said.

“Um, I’ll have to think about it.”

The two friends left the waffle place and both went to Matilda’s building. Roger needed to pick up his box of personal effects and Morgan had decided to hedge his bets. To do so he wanted to work from within Matilda’s network.

By the time they arrived, the lobby of the building had mostly cleared out. They’d apparently decided there wasn’t anything to be accomplished by hanging around the building. Roger went over to pick up his box and Morgan sat down on one of the couches. When he powered up his work laptop it picked up Matilda’s Wi-Fi network and he was able to connect to the LAN as if he were at work. As he expected, they’d made him a persona non grata on the system, invalidating his passwords. However, the person who’d tried to lock Morgan out hadn’t considered the possibility that he might have a number of administrative identities on the system that weren’t under his actual name. They’d locked out his Administrator-1 identity but not his Testing identity. Using that identity, he created backdoors, not just into Matilda’s computer systems—where he’d already created several backdoors—but also into Matilda’s cloud servers.

The servers that stored the enormous databases that let Matilda do what she did.

Morgan tended to be oblivious to his surroundings when he was coding. When he came back up to normal awareness after setting up his backdoors, he found Roger sitting next to him on the couch. “Sorry,” he said, not sure how long Roger’d been sitting next to him, nor whether he might have been asking questions.

Roger produced a little chuckle, “No problem. You’re working on my behalf, I’m sure. Doing things I sure as hell couldn’t do myself. Any luck?”

“I haven’t…” Morgan looked around and saw nobody was near them. He spoke quietly anyhow, “I haven’t done anything, yet, at least. I’ve just made sure that I can do something in the future if it seems… advisable.”

Roger gave a thoughtful nod, “Good strategy.” He glanced upward where their offices had been located, then turned back to Morgan. “But, what if whoever they sold Matilda to just copies her off. You might be able to break back into the system here, but be unable to do anything to their copies.”

“If they copy her, they’ll also be copying my way into the system.” Morgan shrugged, “Admittedly, if we’re going to disable Matilda, now’s the best time to do it, but—”

“But what? Are you wanting to wait for them to prove their evil intent by screwing us out of our share?” Roger snorted, “Buddy, I think they already did that.”

“Your letter said the same thing as mine, huh?”

Roger nodded.

Wistfully, Morgan said, “Disabling Matilda’d feel kinda like shooting my baby, you know?”

“She’s just software.”

“And, it’d leave all those people in the lurch. People all around the world who’ve come to depend on her. It’d devalue her brand, etcetera, right when we’re trying to sell her.”

“We’re not trying to sell her anymore! We’ve been shut out of ownership.”

Morgan turned searching eyes on his friend, “Do you really think Alan, Norm, and Terrence are the ones who did this?”

Roger sighed, “Yeah. We’re just a couple of trusting saps who’ve been taken to the cleaners by cutthroat businessmen.”

Morgan thought to himself about the many times he and Roger’d talked about how cutthroat their friends were, thinking that it was okay because the bastards were on their side. He shook his head, “it’s just hard to believe. I never dreamed they’d do something like this.”

With a snort, Roger said, “Goddamned Alan. He was probably afraid he wouldn’t come out of this as a billionaire.” He stood up, “I’m gonna go to see what Vic’s come up with in terms of finding a firm to represent us.”

“Don’t forget they should be representing the rest of the employees too.”

Roger nodded.

“I’m gonna head home,” Morgan said. “I’ll start looking through the e-mails from the rest of the employees. Well, I should say I hope they’re sending me some. That they’re piling up. Maybe they’ll have some good ideas. I also need to query our people to find out whether they have any actual AV evidence of the contract trickery for us.”

Thursday afternoon

Morgan pulled into his driveway and parked his car. Then he abruptly wondered why he’d chosen to go to his house. Arlette’s car was there so his home certainly wasn’t a haven where he could work in peace. She’ll be all over my ass the moment I walk in the door, he thought. I should’ve gone to a coffee shop. Though he’d have felt guilty about the fact that he didn’t drink coffee. He shook his head, I could’ve had tea or something.

He decided it was too late. If by any chance Arlette had seen him drive up, she’d grill him later about why the hell he’d come home, then left without coming inside. Deciding it’d be less painful to stay, he opened the door quietly and headed directly for his little home office. Maybe she won’t notice me for a while. It’d be great if I could get some of this stuff done before she starts to rant.

He got into his office without being seen. Lifting on the door to take the stress off the hinge, he slowly closed it—not all the way, that would’ve been suspicious—but enough that it’d block the usual line of sight to his desk.

As he waited for his desktop computer to come out of sleep mode he started to relax. He’d always been a problem solver. When he wasn’t thinking about how badly he’d just been screwed for his naïveté, he looked on this problem as another challenge to be solved. He even had a moderate anticipation that he’d succeed.

He’d just opened the first email when he realized that some kind of rhythmic sound was bothering him. Maybe Arlette’s exercising? he thought. Then another possibility dawned.

Quietly rising, he peered out into the hall. The sound was louder to the left. Getting out his phone, he brought up its video camera and put it on record. As he slowly walked down the hall toward the master bedroom, the rhythmic creaking gradually got louder. He heard voices. Though he couldn’t understand what they were saying, one voice was plainly Arlette’s.

With the camera still recording, Morgan turned and walked quietly down the hall, out the back door, and around to the master bedroom window. Staying out of sight, he pushed camera end of the phone out just far enough that he could see the inside of the bedroom on the display.

He saw just what he’d expected. After recording a couple of minutes, he turned and went back in the house.

He propped the cell phone, still recording, against a bowl on the kitchen counter. It was a location that provided an excellent view of who came and went down the hall.

Then he went back into his office and sat back down at his computer. Shouldn’t I be in a frenzy? he wondered. In a movie the betrayed husband would be bursting into the bedroom, intent on mayhem, wouldn’t he? Morgan thought back to how he he’d been fairly calm when he’d found out that his friends were trying to screw him out of his share of Matilda. Arlette’s always saying I’m emotionless, maybe she’s right?

He thought about it for a while, deciding that he hadn’t loved Arlette for years.

In fact, he despised her.

All in all, her affair could be thought of as a good thing. It’d end their marriage and his life would become a lot less aggravating if it didn’t Arlette in it.

But maybe she’s right about me being emotionless.

He went back to reading his email.

He’d gotten the gist of what people were writing to him. He wasn’t exactly sure how many people worked at Matilda—it just wasn’t something that he’d found terribly interesting. However, he thought he had emails from 80 to 90% of what he thought might have been about a hundred employees. He drafted a boilerplate reply, saying he understood their concerns. He told them that he and Roger were trying to assemble a legal team to represent the employees. It asked them to write down their recollection of how they been induced to sign the contract and requested any evidence—especially recordings—that anyone might have of the event.

He was rereading and editing his reply a second time when he heard the bedroom door open. He slid his chair forward to make himself even less evident through the partially open office doorway. He heard the man ask a question, but Morgan couldn’t understand what he’d said. They were nearing his door so Arlette’s response was clear. “My lawyer says it’d be smart to wait till the money’s in our accounts before I file for the divorce.” She sighed happily, “But we won’t have to sneak around much longer.”

The guy responded, but by then they were past his door and Morgan couldn’t hear what he said. Listening carefully, Morgan heard the gentle creak of the back door as it opened and closed.

Morgan sat silently, staying as far as he could out of line of sight of the doorway. He didn’t want to have a confrontation at the moment. He heard Arlette putter in the kitchen briefly. He didn’t hear her walk down the carpeted hallway toward the bedroom, but after a bit he heard it when she turned on her shower.

Morgan went down and got the phone off the kitchen counter. Returning to his office, he copied the video file onto his home computer, his laptop, and onto cloud storage. He watched the video, still surprised to be taking this so calmly. Even watching the video he’d shot through the bedroom window brought disappointment, but not anger. Arlette’s boyfriend wasn’t familiar. Morgan opened the door to his office wider so it’d obviously be different from when Arlette had passed it earlier.

I may need a record of what she has to say when she does see me, he thought. With a sigh, he turned video recording back on in his phone. He propped it on a shelf across the room and went back to editing his email.

He’d just sent the email when Arlette appeared in his office doorway. “You’re home way early. Did the sale go through?”

Morgan nodded without looking at her.

In a disgusted tone, she said, “I don’t suppose you got around to negotiating a better share for us?”

Shaking his head, Morgan turned to look dispassionately at her. “Like I told you, I don’t think screwing over our friends is ever the right thing to do.”

“Well, what did we get?”

Morgan multiplied his $200,000 annual salary by his seven years with the company and said, “$1.4 million.”

Arlette blinked a couple of times. Dread in her voice, she asked, “What do you mean?”

Feeling a small evil rush, Morgan lifted the letter that’d been taped to his box office desk and held it out to her.

She paled as she read it. When her eyes rose to his, she was trembling. Morgan wasn’t sure whether her tremor was due to horror, or rage. Her lips pulled back in a rictus as she hissed, “What did you do?!”

“It looks like I probably signed something I shouldn’t have. Terrence told me it was a document they had to have in order to sell the company.”

“You idiot!”

She had him there, so he nodded and shrugged, “Yeah…”

“You are so oblivious. Such a freaking patsy! It’s not bad enough you’ve ruined your life, you had to suck me down with you.”

Your life’d still be fine, Morgan thought. He thought of how many billions of people around the world would be ecstatic to live the way Arlette did. He wondered if he should tell her there were reasons to believe his new employment contract might not be enforceable. Nah.

Then he thought to himself, That’s pretty passive-aggressive.

Not wanting to feed the fire of her insults, Morgan had just been sitting there staring at Arlette as the thoughts went through his mind. Suddenly she launched herself at him. Slapping and clawing, she landed on top of him in his rolling desk chair. It rolled off the plastic carpet mat and at that point its wheels arrested in the soft carpet and it toppled over. Morgan’s head hit the corner of the cabinet behind him, leaving him stunned. They crashed to the floor, her flailing assault continuing undiminished. She kept scratching at him, so he wrapped his arms and legs around her in an attempt to immobilize her.

She bit his shoulder.

He twisted her around so her teeth couldn’t reach him, then just hung on as if he were trying to calm someone having a seizure.

After what Morgan thought was about five minutes, Arlette settled down to quiet sobbing. He gradually relaxed his hold. She jerked away from him, rolled over and slowly climbed to her feet. When she turned to look at him, the hate in her eyes was a terrible thing. “We’re done! Get the hell out of my house,” she rasped, pointing in the general direction of the front door.

“Okay,” Morgan said, feeling relieved. He didn’t want to stay. What are we going to do about Adam? he wondered. He didn’t ask. I’d imagine the Adam issue’s low on her priority list.

When Morgan got up, he was unsteady for a moment. As he braced himself on the desk, his eyes were drawn to a large red spot on the carpet. He bent down and touched it. Sticky, red, warm, it’s blood! He reached up and touched his head where it’d hit the corner of the cabinet. His hair was soaked with blood.

He went to the hall bathroom and started trying to wash the blood out of his hair without restarting the bleeding. He was wondering how much longer he had before Arlette realized he hadn’t left the house when he heard Adam’s voice behind him. “Dad?!”

Home from school, Morgan realized, surprised it was that late. He turned and tried to give his son a grin, though he suspected it was a bit wan. “Hey Adam.”

“What in God’s name happened in your office? It looks like someone was murdered in there.”

Adam looked pale and Morgan realized he might be worried that someone really had been murdered. After all, Morgan and Arlette hadn’t been getting along for years. Now Adam finds his dad in the bathroom trying to wash off blood. “Um… My chair fell over and I whacked my head on the file cabinet. I guess it made quite a mess, huh?”

Adam nodded slowly, not looking reassured. “What happened to your face?” His eyes dropped to Morgan’s arm, “And your shoulder and arm?”

Morgan looked at the mirror, seeing several scratches from Arlette’s nails on his face, one of which had gouged away a little flap of skin that Morgan hadn’t trimmed off yet. Then there was the bite mark on his shoulder. The bite had broken his skin right through his shirt. It hadn’t bled a lot, but Morgan hadn’t gotten around to washing off any of that blood yet. When he looked down at his arm, he saw several more scratches. Feeling embarrassed, Morgan produced a wry grimace, and looked back up at his son. “Um, my chair fell over ‘cause your mom and I got in a little fight. Sorry to have…” He shrugged, “She was pretty pissed.”

“Holy shit! I think it was more than a little fight.” He glanced toward the master bedroom, “Is she okay?”

“I think so.” Morgan thought about how tightly he’d gripped Arlette while waiting for her to calm down. “She might have some bruises… Maybe you should go check on her.”

Adam glanced down the hall toward the bedroom, then back at his dad for a moment. He shrugged, said, “Okay,” and headed off down the hallway.

Morgan resumed trying to clean himself up, now wondering whether it might be hard to check into a hotel when he looked like he’d been in a street fight. He trimmed off the little bit of dead skin on his forehead and washed the blood off his chest and arm. He’d gone back to keeping pressure on his scalp wound while trying to soak the blood out of the hair around it when Adam reappeared in the bathroom doorway. Morgan said, “How is she?”

“Pretty incoherent. She did make it clear that she wanted you out of the house.”

Morgan’s shoulders sagged, “Yeah,” he said despondently. “I don’t think our marriage’s going to survive this one. Sorry.” He looked at Adam questioningly, “I know a lot of kids blame themselves when their parents break up. I hope you’re not worried this’s your fault?”

Adam shook his head slowly, “No. Shouldn’t you go to the hospital?”

“Nah,” Morgan tried to grin, “scalp wounds are famous for bleeding a lot. It’s stopped now.”

“But you hit your head.”

“Didn’t knock me out. Didn’t even make me dizzy. I’ll be fine. The issue’s what we should do next. I told your mom I’d get out of the house. Will you be okay here?”

Adam’s eyes widened, “I can’t come with you?!”

“Of course. I just wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

Adam drew back as if astonished, “I don’t want to stay here with the psycho bitch!”

“You shouldn’t say…” Morgan trailed off as he realized Adam was just saying what he himself thought. His initial response had just been a knee-jerk reaction from years of trying to keep peace in the house. “Sorry, I guess maybe you don’t like being around her any more than I do.”

Adam slowly shook his head, “No, not at all. I can’t believe you stayed with her this long.”

“Oh…” was all Morgan could think to say, realizing that staying with Arlette for Adam’s sake wasn’t what Adam had actually wanted. I probably should’ve asked him what he wanted, rather than thinking I knew. But then Morgan realized that he wouldn’t have had the courage to ask for fear that just the question would’ve upset his son. “Well, let me see if I can get Arlette to give me a clean shirt.”

“Just a minute,” Adam said, pulling out his cell phone, “I should get some pictures of you.”

“Why?” Morgan asked uncertainly.

“Mom’s in there taking pictures of some bruises on her arms. I’m sure they’re going to show up in court. I think you need some ammunition of your own.”

Adam started taking pictures, both faraway and close up of all of Morgan’s injuries. As he did so, Morgan remembered his phone, still in his home office videoing the wall. The video of Arlette attacking him would probably help more than Adam’s pictures of his injuries when it came to court, but he liked the feeling that Adam was trying to take care of him.

Adam was taking pictures of the gash on the back of Morgan’s head when he stopped. He dabbed at it with some of the gauze from the first aid kit Morgan’d been using. “Oh, gross! You’ve got to go to the hospital for some sutures. This cut on your head’s open about an eighth of an inch.”

Morgan said, “I really don’t want to go to the ER—”

Adam interrupted, “You’ve got to Dad. It’s gross! You need sutures.”

“There’s a trick I’ve heard of,” Morgan said, glad his hair was kind of long. “Can you pull up a few strands of hair on either side of the cut and tie them together? They’ll act just like sutures.”

“I can’t do that!” Adam said, sounding appalled.

Morgan looked at his son in the mirror, “Come on, you can too. It’s just like tying a couple of threads together.”

Adam rolled his eyes, then said, “Let me get some gloves.”

When Adam finished tying Morgan’s scalp together and taking the pictures, he said, “I’ll go ask Mom if I can get you some clothes. It’ll probably go over better coming from me than from you.”

“Okay, thanks. It’d help if you could get my travel kit. It’s a blue nylon bag in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I’ll be getting my laptop and some other stuff—My phone, he thought—out of my office.”

While Adam was in enemy territory getting Morgan’s stuff, Morgan backed up his desktop computer onto his external hard drive and copied the new phone video onto his laptop and from there onto cloud storage. While he was doing so, their landline phone started ringing. They virtually never got anything but sales calls on it. Morgan kept thinking he should have it taken out, but so far he hadn’t. He sometimes thought he was the last person in his generation that had a landline. He often wondered what’d possessed him to have one installed in the first place. In any case, no one answered that landline, they just let the calls go to voicemail. He was still fooling with his phone when he heard the machine pick up, “Hello, this’s Officer Lincoln of the Asheville Police Department. I’m trying to reach Morgan Djai about your brother Daryn.”

Morgan sat bolt upright. When the officer left a phone number, he entered the number in his phone then sat, staring into space. He and Daryn had been estranged for eighteen or nineteen years, but Morgan had tried to reconnect several times during the last ten years. Unfortunately, he hadn’t known where his brother lived or even if he lived. He hadn’t had any contact information. Their last name was rare enough Morgan didn’t think Daryn should’ve been difficult to find, but apparently Daryn didn’t have a listed phone number. If he had a publicly listed address it didn’t have his own name on it.

He finally decides to call me on the day my whole life’s going to hell? Or, worse, he has the police call me. Does he need bail money or something?

Bad timing or not, Morgan tapped the number to make the call. But then Arlette appeared in the doorway of his office. She started screaming, “You’re still here?! Get the hell out! Now!” She pointed imperiously in the direction of the front door.

Morgan stood, putting the phone in his pocket. A glance showed him that the external drive had finished downloading his desktop. He unplugged the drive and dropped it and his laptop into his backpack. As he moved toward the door, Adam walked behind Arlette carrying a couple of bags and gave Morgan an affirmative nod, apparently trying to indicate he had their stuff. Arlette held up her arm, “Look what you did to me!”

Morgan saw a faint bruise, but he imagined it’d look worse tomorrow. “Sorry,” he said, restraining himself from pointing out what she’d been doing to him when she got the bruises. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t move out of the doorway, but then she jerked herself aside and Morgan slipped by.

When he got outside, Adam was already in the car, sitting in the driver’s seat. Although Adam took advantage of his learner’s permit every chance he could, somehow Morgan had expected to drive on a day like this one.

Morgan got in the passenger’s seat and Adam immediately started the car rolling backward. Arlette came out through the back door looking angry. “Adam!” She shouted, “Get your ass back in here. You’re not going anywhere with that son of a bitch!”

Adam pressed harder on the accelerator and they bumped hard into the street. He hit the brakes and shifted into drive, punching it hard enough that the wheels squealed. “Jeez, Adam,” Morgan said, “we didn’t just rob a bank, you know.”

Adam snorted, “That’s true, but we’re still making a getaway. There’s no way I want to hang around and see if she can talk you into leaving me there.”

Morgan blinked and wondered if his son was justified in thinking he was such a milquetoast.

Adam asked, “What hotel are we going to?”

“Let’s try the Suites by Marriott, I don’t think it’s very expensive.”

“I thought you were about to make a bunch of money selling Matilda?”

“There might be a problem with that. That’s one of the reasons your mother’s so mad.” Morgan found himself hoping the loss of the sale of Matilda wouldn’t be something that drove a wedge between himself and Adam as well as Arlette.

“Figures,” Adam said, sounding disgusted. Morgan hoped he was repulsed by his mother, not disappointed that there were problems with the sale.

Of course, Morgan had done his best to keep his son from knowing just how much they thought they might make from the sale. Adam might not think of it as a terribly big deal financially. Trying to get them on a different topic, he said, “Um, I just got a call about my brother. I’m going to try to call them back while you’re driving, okay?”

“Wait, what? You have a brother? So… I have an uncle?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, feeling embarrassed. “We’re estranged.”

“Estranged? What’s that mean?”

“It means we don’t get along. Since before you were born. For the last ten years I’ve been trying to find him in hopes we could reconcile, but I haven’t been able to locate him. It’s like he fell off the edge of the earth. Now I got this call…” Morgan felt a little guilty not saying that the call was from the police. But if he might be able to reunite with his brother, it might be nicer if Adam didn’t know the re-introduction had come through the police.

“Call him!” Adam said, sounding excited. “It’d be way cool to have an uncle.”

Pulling out his phone, Morgan realized Adam might be concerned about their relative dearth of family. Morgan’s parents had been killed in a car accident and Adam didn’t even know Morgan had a brother. Arlette was an only child and her parents hadn’t liked Morgan—they’d always been distant. Lacking family, Morgan and Arlette had actually had to ask his friend Roger to be Adam’s guardian in the event of their death.

Morgan shook his head to stop his woolgathering. Looking at the phone, he found the police officer’s number and tapped it. Though he received them, he never made phone calls when he was driving. So, it caught him by surprise when the ring tone came over the car’s audio system. Morgan didn’t want Adam listening in on the conversation in case Daryn was in serious trouble with the police. In consternation, Morgan searched the car’s infotainment system for a way to disconnect the call from the audio system. Failing that, he tried to hang up the phone. However, before he managed to hang up there was a click and he heard the same voice he’d heard the first time, “This’s Officer Lincoln of the Asheville Police Department, how may I help you?”

Morgan had his finger poised to hang up and thought about doing it anyway, but decided he’d just as well go ahead. “Um, yes. This’s Morgan Djai. You called about my brother?”

“Sir, it sounds like you’re driving. You should pull over before we continue this conversation.”

“It’s okay, it’s my son who’s actually driving.”

“Then he should pull over. I’ll wait.”

Morgan rolled his eyes and waved Adam to the shoulder. As they rolled to a stop, he said, “Okay, we’ve pulled over.”

The man’s tone suddenly became somber, “Sir, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Heart precipitously in freefall, Morgan said with trepidation, “What happened?”

“Sir, at about 1500 hrs. this afternoon there was a shooting in your brother’s mine. Your brother was hit.”

Though he knew in his heart the answer would be negative, Morgan still felt compelled to ask, “Is he going to be okay?”

Gravely the policeman said, “I’m afraid not… Your niece, and then the paramedics, they did CPR for almost an hour, but your brother didn’t make it.”

“Oh my God…” Morgan said, curling forward until his head hit the dash and moaning hopelessly. Because of all the intervening years, he couldn’t remember exactly what his last words to his brother’d been.

But he knew they’d been horrible.

Morgan felt Adam’s hand on his shoulder, uncertainly rubbing and patting.

Distantly, he heard the policeman saying how sorry he was.

Morgan gasped, “I’ll call you back,” and then started stabbing blindly at his phone, trying to hang it up. Adam gently prized the phone from his fingers and disconnected the call. Then he tugged at Morgan, turning him into his arms. Father and son sat, clinging to one another for several minutes as Adam said, “I’m sorry,” over and over.

Morgan heard a tapping on the window and Adam let go. Morgan heard the driver’s window whirr down and he leaned forward to try to see what was happening. After rubbing at his blurred eyes, he was able to recognize that a policeman stood outside the driver’s side window. With a disgusted tone, man said, “You guys can’t be parking here on the shoulder.”

Adam spoke calmly, “I’m sorry Officer. We just got a call telling us that my uncle’s been killed. The policeman who called my dad told us to pull over onto the shoulder before he’d give us the news.”

The cop leaned down. Seeing their wet cheeks, he swallowed and said, “I’m so sorry. I’ll just stay back here behind you with my flashing lights on until you feel up to moving your car.” He turned and walked back to his vehicle.

Morgan leaned forward again. Propping his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees, he stared down at the carpet, trying to make sense of the disaster this day in his life had become.

His nose was running and he kept sniffing, wishing he had a Kleenex. Adam touched his arm, “Dad. Here.” When Morgan looked up, he saw Adam holding out a white sock, evidently from one of the bags he’d packed. “Blow your nose,” Adam said, sounding like a parent talking to a child.

Morgan blew his nose, then sat up and looked around, feeling disoriented. “You feel up to pulling down off the main road so the policeman can get back to work?”

“Sure,” Adam said, starting the car.

Morgan found his phone laying on the console and pulled up Officer Lincoln’s contact information again. Adam pulled into a parking space at a gas station, Morgan dialed again. “This’s Officer Lincoln of the Asheville Police Department, how may I help you?”

“Um, this’s Morgan Djai again. Sorry about before.”

“Completely understandable. I hate being the bearer of bad news. I’m sure you have some questions.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, then stopped, a frog in his throat making it hard to talk again. “Sorry. I’m afraid my brother and I were estranged. I hadn’t seen him for nearly 20 years and though I made several efforts to reconnect, I hadn’t been able to find him. I hate to have to ask this, but I think you said my niece did CPR?”

“Yes sir. Kiri Djai.” Morgan could hear the respect in the man’s voice, “The paramedics were quite impressed with her.”

“Even if it’s too late…” his voice broke, but he forced himself to resume even though his voice rasped, “to… to reconnect with my brother, I’d very much like to connect with Daryn’s family. Are you able to give me their contact information? And, perhaps, tell me his wife’s name and whether he had any other children besides Kiri?”

“I’m sorry sir, his wife’s deceased. Apparently she died of cancer many years ago. Kiri has an older brother, Lindl. Um, one of the reasons we’ve been urgently trying to reach you is that his children have just been orphaned. His will designates you as their guardian. Do you think you’ll be able to assume those duties?”

More tears welled up as Morgan thought, If Daryn decided to trust me with his children, maybe he stopped hating me before he died. Then, realizing he’d left the policeman hanging, he said, “Yes, of course. I’ll come right away. Where are they?”

“Right now they’re at our police station. How long’ll it take you to get here?”

“Um…” Adam tapped his shoulder. He was holding out his phone. He’d pulled up a Google map for a trip to Asheville. “We live in Chapel Hill. Our phone says about three and a half hours.” He thought, At least I’m already packed.

“Okay, we’ll hold on to them.”

“Oh. There isn’t any place else for them to stay?”

“No sir. The kids say they don’t have any friends whose families are close enough that they could stay with them…” The officer’s voice dropped a tone, “Actually, I think they each individually have friends they could stay with, but they don’t want to be separated like they’d have to be if they stayed with different families. What they want is to be dropped off at their empty home, but I don’t think that’s a good idea right after their father’s death.”

“Can’t someone stay with them?”

“Sorry sir, we don’t have personnel for that.”

“Okay, please tell them I’ll get there as soon as I can.” Morgan got the location of the station and hung up. He turned to Adam, “I guess I should get some gas while we’re here at the station. Then,” he winced a little at an unpleasant thought, “I guess I should take you home.”

“No way!” Adam said, looking horrified. “I’m going with you. I can’t stay with Mom.”

“But you have school tomorrow! Besides, Mom can’t be that bad to be around, is she?”

“Oh, my, God!” Adam stared at him for a moment, “She’s… It’s… indescribable. If you won’t take me to Asheville with you I’ll try to find a friend to stay with, but surely, meeting my cousins is more important than a day of school! Besides, it’s a Friday, so even if it takes more than a day, I won’t be missing anything the next day either.”

Morgan thought for a moment, then acknowledged the truth of Adam’s point with a shrug. “Can you pull over to a gas pump then?”

In answer, Adam started the car, still shaking his head as if in disbelief at his father’s thought processes.

When Adam pulled up to the pump, Morgan got out and walked around. He put his credit card in the pump while Adam removed the filler cap and pulled out the nozzle. When nothing seemed to happen, Morgan looked back at the screen on the pump. It said, “Your credit card was declined, please try another.” As he got out his wallet, Morgan tilted his head curiously, wondering why in the world the card’d been declined. The card had an $8000 limit and they certainly hadn’t spent that much this month. Putting away the first card, he got out another and put it in instead. A minute later he was looking at the same message.

He had a sinking feeling as he got out the debit card he mostly used for ATMs.

It produced the same message.

Evidently wondering what was taking so long Adam had just come up to look over his shoulder. “That bitch,” he hissed. “She’s closed your accounts, hasn’t she?”

Morgan closed his eyes. He didn’t have’s the slightest impulse to urge Adam not to badmouth his mother this time. “I guess,” he said resignedly. “Let me call the bank.”

Not only had Arlette reported his credit cards stolen, she’d cleaned out his accounts. I’m penniless, he thought bemusedly. “Can she do that?” he asked the bank officer.

“They’re joint accounts, so she has the right to withdraw. She reported your credit card stolen so you’ll get another one of those in a few days.”

“Delivered to my address of record, right?” Morgan asked resignedly. And she’ll just cut it up when it arrives, he thought bitterly.

“Yes sir,” the officer replied, apparently not recognizing that the delivery location might be a problem.

“Can you just open new checking, savings, and credit card accounts, in my name alone? We’re getting a divorce.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. You’re certainly welcome to come down and open new accounts. Um… you’d need to be able to make a deposit?”

The interrogative nature of the man’s statement indicated he understood Morgan might not have any money to deposit.

When am I going to get some money? Morgan wondered. It was May 29 and he’d normally get a paycheck on the thirty-first, but he suspected that Matilda wouldn’t be sending out paychecks this month. His $1.4 million severance bonus might come in soon, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it took months. They’d want to have the money from the sale of the company in hand before they paid out on the bonuses. Morgan tilted his head back, staring unseeingly up at the canopy over the gas pumps. This could be a huge problem!

“What’d they say?” Adam asked.

Morgan sighed, deep into the mental work of trying to solve the problem and not wanting to stop to explain. But, Adam’s in this too. He deserves an explanation. Morgan described what the bank officer had said and how he had essentially no access to funds at present. Somehow, he thought that, as he walked Adam through the issues, a solution would become evident. To his dismay, when he finished the explanation, he still had no ideas. “I guess I’m going to have to ask Roger for a loan. But I doubt he has much cash on hand. That’s gonna make it hard for us to get to Asheville in four hours.” He turned to look at Adam, wondering if Adam might have an idea. Maybe if Adam asked, Arlette would give him some money?

Adam was pumping gas. “How’d you get it to work?” Morgan asked, frowning.

“Tried my debit card. Apparently mom didn’t clean out my accounts.” He paused, then said darkly, “Yet.”

“We don’t need to…” Morgan began, then realized, Yes, we do. “Sorry. Thanks. How much do you have in your account?”

“About $2,000. From my job last summer.”

“Thanks, I’m proud of you.”

“Let’s go meet my cousins.”

Adam was happy to drive which was good because then Morgan could think and make calls. He tried calling Arlette, thinking that even if they were getting divorced, she couldn’t really have intended to leave him penniless. Surely, if she knew what’d happened with his brother, she’d put some money back in his account. She didn’t take the call, so he left her a voicemail explaining what was going on.

Adam said, “She won’t care.”

“Come on, your mother’s not a monster.”

“I’m not so sure. I hate being the one to break this to you, but she’s been having an affair.”

Morgan didn’t know what to say, so he settled for a quiet, “I know.”

“She would’ve asked for a divorce already, except she’s afraid it might reduce her share of the Matilda sale.”

“I know,” Morgan said, not wanting to appear completely clueless by admitting he’d just found out about the affair and Arlette’s plans that afternoon. He did wonder how Adam knew all this though.

Adam answered that as he went on, “I heard her and her boyfriend talking. They were laughing about all the ways her lawyer said she could screw you over.”

Now Morgan felt hurt. Adam knew all this, but didn’t tell me? “Um…” he started, but then didn’t continue as he couldn’t think what to say.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you,” Adam said. He gave a sad little laugh, “If I’d known you were going to take it this calmly I’d have told you as soon as I found out.”

Morgan thought, I don’t feel calm inside. “How long have you known?”

Adam shrugged, “Since last week.”

Maybe Adam’s not the only one who can’t tell how I’m feeling, Morgan thought. That might be why Arlette’s always accusing me of not caring or being emotionless. To Adam he said, “Sorry. I know having your parents divorce is really rough on kids.”

Adam snorted, “It’ll be a lot better than living with her.”

“Um, what if the court says you have to stay with her?”

“I’m way ahead of you there. I checked and, in North Carolina, kids over the age of ten usually get to decide who they live with.”

“Oh…” Morgan sat for a minute, feeling particularly clueless. “Well, I guess that’s good then. We still have some big financial issues though. I’m going to call Roger.” He got out his phone. This time he turned off Bluetooth so the call wouldn’t come up on the car’s audio system.

Roger answered with, “Vic lined us up with Treyvn and Associates. They’re a relatively new corporate law firm that’s been building a good reputation. I talked to Treyvn himself and he thinks we’ve got an excellent shot at enforcing the original contract. He does say that it’d be really helpful if we could find documents or other evidence showing how people were fooled into signing the new one. Have you had any luck there yet?”

“Um, I’ve sent an email to all the employees who’ve contacted me, asking for anything they might have. I, uh, haven’t really had time to check for replies yet.”

“Come on Morgan. This’s important. We need to be getting on this stuff.”

“I’ll start checking my email as soon as we’re done here—”

Roger interrupted to say, “Well, let me hang up so you can do it. Get back to me as soon as you’ve looked through—”

Afraid Roger was about to hang up on him, Morgan interrupted him in return. “Wait! I’m having some problems of my own.”

“Aw, crap!” Roger said, already sounding sad, “It’s Arlette, right?”

How does everyone but me seem to know she’s a huge problem? Morgan wondered. He said, “Yeah. She wants a divorce. I was hoping you could give me Vic’s contact information.”

“No problem, I’ll text it to you as soon as we’re done. I don’t know much about divorce court, but if you need anyone to testify, Cynthia and I’ll be happy to tell the judge what a bitch she is.”

“Oh,” Morgan said, dreading what he might be about to learn. “She’s caused you problems too?”

“Oh yeah. A couple of years ago she made a pass at me. When I said no, she told Cynthia that I’d seduced her into an affair. I thought my whole world was going to go up in smoke. But then Cynthia asked her when we’d slept together and she claimed some nights that Cynthia knew she’d been with me.”

“I’m sorry man. She and I haven’t been getting along for years, but I thought it was just my problem. I guess she’s been causing problems for other people and I was just oblivious.”

“Yeah, she’s crazy. Way crazy. I thought about telling you some of the stuff she’s done, but… I figured you must know. Told myself it was none of my business… Actually, I guess I was just too chickenshit to sit down and have a man-to-man with you. Sorry.”

Morgan gave a rueful laugh, “I know where you’re coming from. I have a hard time talking to people about that kind of stuff myself.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve done better for my best friend. I’ll hang up now so you can call Vic and then you can check your emails.”

“Wait, sorry. I’ve got more problems. Arlette cleaned out all our accounts and shut down my credit cards. I hate to ask, but I’m gonna need some cash somehow. Would you be able to lend me some?”

“Oh, hell yeah. How much are you thinking?”

“If you can spare it, $10,000. I’m afraid this’s going to take quite a while and I’m going to have to live in a hotel and—”

“You don’t have to explain. It’s not a problem. I’ll write you a check, unless you know a better way for me to get you the cash?”

“No, that’d be great. Right now though, I’m on my way to Asheville. I’ll call you when I’m back and can pick up the check.

Dubiously, Roger said, “You’re going on vacation?”

“No, um, my brother was just killed. He lived up there and I’m going to make arr—”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. Your whole life’s just gone to hell hasn’t it?”

“Yeah… it sure feels that way,” Morgan croaked, his throat closing so he couldn’t say any more.

“Anything I, or Cynthia, can do, you just let me know. You need me to go up to Asheville with you?”

“No, Adam’s with me. He’s…” Morgan’s voice broke again, “He’s been awesome.” He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m going to be reading those emails on my phone during the drive. Any of them that need something done, I might just forward to you. Would that be okay?”

“You bet buddy. Do you have enough cash for this trip to Asheville?”

“I think so. We’re using Adam’s debit card, spending his earnings from his job last summer.”

“He’s a good kid. I hope you know how lucky you are there.”

“Yes, I do…”

Once they’d signed off, Morgan sat for a couple of minutes to get his emotions back in control. Adam reached over to pat his shoulder and he thought to himself just how true Roger’s final words had been.

Taking a deep breath, he called Vic Naylor and told him about the situation with Arlette. Vic explained that he and Arlette would need to be separated for a year before a divorce could be final in North Carolina. He also said that the documented proof of Arlette’s affair would mean that Morgan didn’t have to pay alimony, but that he might still be responsible for “post-separation support.” Most importantly, Morgan and Arlette would equally divide their marital property as of the date of their separation. “I suspect she transferred your joint accounts into her own account in hopes she could say that today’s the date of your separation. She’ll claim that on that date the money was in her account and therefore was hers alone, rather than belonging to both of you.”

“Oh. Does that mean she’s no longer entitled to my future paychecks or income from my job?”

“Well, she’s almost certainly going to be awarded some “post-separation support,” out of those paychecks, but she wouldn’t be entitled to half your future income like she’ll get half of your current property. She’s only entitled to half of what you have as of the date of separation. You should print out statements regarding the current value of any investments you have.”

“Okay…” Morgan said, feeling surprised that Arlette’d essentially started the separation by throwing him out of the house before he got his severance bonus. Even if she didn’t understand that he and Roger intended to contest the new contract, she should have wanted half of that $1.4 million. To Vic he said, “Can you record this as the date of our separation for me?”

“Sure, but be sure to remember that if you guys get together again, the separation starts all over after that date. If you might get a settlement of any kind for Matilda, be wary of her asking to make up, or even just wanting to fool around. Anything that might be construed as an interruption to your separation.”

“Oh!” Morgan said, thinking that sounded like just the kind of thing Arlette would do. He didn’t necessarily want to cut her out of all the income that might come from Matilda, he still thought fondly of the early years of their relationship. But, he wanted to be in control. And, he was really tired of her trying to screw everyone over, especially him.

Once Morgan finished talking to Vic, he asked Adam how he was doing. “You need a break from driving?”

“No, I’m doing fine. You just keep handling what you can.”

Morgan decided his next agenda item should be to go through his emails. He didn’t like reading substantial documents on his phone, so he plugged the phone in to charge on one of the car’s USB ports. Then he set it up to be a hotspot for his laptop.

With some trepidation, he logged into his TD Ameritrade account, hoping he could sell some stock instead of borrowing from Roger. Its balance was zero.

What?! he thought. It takes days to sell a stock so even if she’d initiated a sale as soon as she threw Morgan out of the house, the money should still be there. He looked for the dates on the sales. Early April. Resignedly, he thought, I guess I shouldn’t have made such a big deal of how I only check our stock accounts at the end of each quarter.

He read his emails on the laptop. Many of them were angry and the amount of vitriol they spewed made him a little uncomfortable. The stories they told about how they’d come to sign the new contract had a certain uniformity though. Almost always someone from the legal office had stopped by their office asking them to quickly sign a “slightly modified” contract that was “needed so the sale of Matilda could go through.” They weren’t sent a copy of the contract to review ahead of time, nor given a copy of what they’d signed. If they asked for a copy, they were promised that one would be emailed to them. In fact, however, no one had received such a copy to date. Morgan suddenly realized that this put all of them in the unenviable position of contesting a contract, when they didn’t actually know what it said. Most of the employees had just signed the papers where they’d been told to. Some people had skimmed over the contract, but it was pages long and no one had noticed any phrases that they’d interpreted as subverting their right to a share of the company.

He was about to think that all they’d have to support their claim that the signatures had been “secured by deception or fraud” would be the relative uniformity of their stories. Then he came to an email from Bill Lake. A blowhard and a conspiracy theorist, Bill was someone that most people in the company avoided when possible because of his tendency to bend their ears till they broke. When Morgan first opened the email and saw that it went on for pages, he rolled his eyes in dismay.

Morgan thought he was in for a real slog through another of Bill’s tirades, but then he read the first line of his “reply all” message. “I didn’t sign that damned thing and I tried to tell you idiots you shouldn’t have signed it either!”

Bill went on to describe how he’d immediately been suspicious when they came in with the document but didn’t seem to want to give him time to read it. It didn’t come as a surprise to Morgan that Bill had set up his office desktop so it’d record audio and video through its integrated camera and microphone upon a keystroke command. Nor that Bill had executed those keystrokes when he decided the “legal drone” was trying to bully him into signing. He’d demanded a copy to read and insisted they come back to get him to sign it in a few hours. After badgering him unsuccessfully, the guy apparently left, promising to email the contract. But he’d never sent it and never returned for a signature.

Morgan glanced at the header for the email to see if the AV file had been attached but it hadn’t. Even though he didn’t know how it could be done without the attachment being signified in the header, he scrolled to the bottom to see if the file had been embedded somehow. It wasn’t there either. He resumed reading, forcing himself not to skim over paragraph after paragraph of, “I told you so” and, “if only you’d listened” and, “I’m the only one…”

Finally, he came to a section that bemoaned the fact that the video had been stored on a Matilda server, known at the company as the “K-drive.” Bill could no longer reach the K-drive since he couldn’t get back in the building.

Morgan used one of his back doors into Matilda and opened the K-drive. He found Bill’s subfolder, which had its own AV subfolder. As Morgan should have expected, there were a lot of video files stored there, but he was able to eliminate a lot of them by date since he knew approximately when he’d been asked to sign the revised contract himself. He was still left with three possible files, but when he started watching the first one, it proved to be the correct one. He didn’t try to watch or download the whole thing over his cell phone link, he just scrolled to a couple of spots, both of which looked pretty damning. He sent the whole thing to Google Drive and gave Roger access to it.

Then it was back to reviewing more emails. He didn’t find anything else particularly important.

Morgan called Roger and gave him a brief recap of what he’d learned as well as making sure he recognized the importance of his access to the Google Drive video file. He encouraged Roger to copy the file to several different secure storage medias and get a copy to Treyvn and Associates.

“How are you holding up?” Roger asked, concern in his voice.

“Okay I guess. Having stuff to do’s been taking my mind off my brother. Vic was a lot of help, thanks.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Once he’d hung up, Adam said, “Was all that about whatever happened with the sale of Matilda?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened there? I mean, if it’s okay to tell me?”

Morgan decided it was. Explaining what’d happened seemed to clarify some of the issues in his own mind. Besides, he thought it might serve as a cautionary tale. Having heard this tale of woe might someday keep Adam from making a similar mistake himself.

When he finished, Adam said, “Wow, you’re really getting screwed by a lot of people you trusted, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, feeling himself tense up as he thought about it.

“But,” Adam said, “it sounds like there’s some chance you can get this contract revision thrown out?”

Morgan sighed, “Maybe? I sure hope so.”

“So, I’ve heard Mom go on and on about how Matilda essentially consists of your idea and your programming. She says everyone else in the company’s just riding your coattails, helping you sell it. She thinks their shares of the sale should be tiny.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said with a bitter laugh. “That’s her theory all right. But they worked hard to build the company, sell the product, manage the people…” After a pause, he said, “And they were my friends. She wanted to demand a bigger share for us, but I didn’t think that was right.”

“Sounds like some of them probably aren’t your friends any more, huh?” Adam said softly.

“True dat,” Morgan said, trying to be flip. It fell flat.

They rode in silence for several minutes, then Adam said, “What happened between you and your brother?”

The silence stretched onward as Morgan wondered how to tell the story. Finally, he said, “We were inseparable as little kids. He was two years younger and had a smart mouth that got him in trouble a lot. It seemed like I was always protecting him. From kids he’d pissed off and… from ordinary playground bullies too.

“But one time,” Morgan found himself misting up again, “a bully in my own grade picked on me. He had my head locked under one arm and was giving me a Dutch rub. Suddenly, he let go. I leapt away, of course, but when I turned around to see why, I found Daryn latched on to the back of his leg, biting his thigh. The bully was screaming bloody murder and trying to hit him. I had to drag Daryn off. We all got in trouble, but Daryn wasn’t the least bit repentant.” Morgan wiped at his eyes again as he thought about how he’d felt, learning the lengths that his little brother would go to—for him.

Morgan sat reminiscing to himself until Adam prompted him again, “So, what happened?”

Morgan shook his head, “He wasn’t just a smart ass, he was really, really bright. He decided he wanted to be in the same grade as me and started doing everything he could to skip ahead. He lobbied his teachers, he lobbied Mom and, of course, he did great in his classes. He even found out that kids who are unchallenged and bored in class tend to act out. He’d already been acting out, but he got even worse and started telling everyone it was cause of how bored he was.

“Daryn read ahead on the books for the grade he was in and asked to take all the tests for the whole year, all in one day. They pointed out that he’d still be behind the other kids if he skipped ahead in the middle of the year. He stole some books from kids in the class a year ahead of him, read them, and then asked to take all the tests for that year too. Eventually, just to get him to shut up, they gave him the tests for the year he was in. He aced them. Then they let him take the tests for the next year, up to the point the class in front of him was at.”

Morgan snorted softly as he remembered it, “So, they let him skip that year. About that time I started to think about how embarrassed I’d be to have my little brother skip up into the same year I was in. I told him to cut it out and asked my mom to make him stop, but he’d already finished the books for that year so he started the books for the year I was in. They skipped him into my year over the summer. I got really worried then; I thought he’d keep doing it until he was several years ahead of me. That’d have been really embarrassing. He didn’t though, he just wanted to be with me.

“I’d always been one of, if not the smartest kid in my class.

“Not after that.

“No one had any doubt that Daryn was the smartest kid in the class. Hell, he was probably the smartest kid in the state, maybe the country. Now I found him annoying.

“He never rubbed my nose in just how smart he was. In fact, he was pretty supportive. But, if I had any trouble in a class he’d offer to help. Which was… pretty humiliating in its own right.

“When we graduated high school, he got accepted by all kinds of elite schools, essentially with full ride scholarships to any of them. However, we both went to the best school I got into. I wanted to be rid of him so I told him he should go ahead and go to MIT. He said it wasn’t the school, but what you learned that mattered in the long run.

“And then he stayed with me.”

Morgan turned to look at Adam and said plaintively, “He loved me. Probably more than anyone else in my life… except maybe you. I don’t know why he did; I treated him like shit. When we were college sophomores he founded a company that programmed games that ran on ordinary desktop PCs. I was already into programming and he asked me to join him. I told him I didn’t have time for that crap, thinking he couldn’t succeed without me. I was wrong, his company made a lot of money. And I hated him for it. After college we virtually never saw each other. When our parents were killed in a car wreck a couple of years later, we got in a big fight after the funeral.

“I never saw him again after that day.”

Adam said, “Wow, that doesn’t sound like you.”

“Yeah, well, as the years went by I started to realize what a jerk I’d been. I hated myself for driving away my brother and best friend. I worked hard to calm my temper.” Morgan shrugged, “Maybe I calmed it too much. Your mother says I’m emotionless… A robot.”

“I like the way nothing gets you flustered,” Adam said. After a brief pause, Adam continued, “And I hate the way she turns a cricket into a crisis.”

The road rolled by for a while. Morgan said, “And now I’ll never get to tell him how sorry I am.”

Adam said, “You can show his kids. Doing right by them should go a long way toward making up for whatever parts of the fight belonged to you.”

“Almost all of them,” Morgan said sadly, “almost all of them.”

Chapter Two

They got to the police station after eight. Morgan wondered if anyone had fed Lindl and Kiri. There was a brief delay while he produced ID to confirm he actually was the kids’ uncle; then he and Adam were taken to the room where they’d been held.

The policewoman knocked on the door, opening it without waiting to be asked in. The first thing Morgan saw was a pizza box from the Mellow Mushroom with only two slices remaining. They’ve eaten, he thought with relief, then turned his eyes to the two occupants of the room.

Lindl, the boy, got to his feet. He was tall and rangy with shoulder length dirty blonde hair and wary gray eyes that looked immeasurably sad. He wore jeans and a faded T-shirt with a picture of Schwarzenegger in a powdered wig. Below the picture were the words “I’ll be Bach.” He said, “Hi. You’re dad’s brother Morgan?”

Morgan nodded, wondering whether to reach out for a handshake or presume that a hug was in order. Uncertain, he glanced at the girl. She hadn’t gotten up. Instead she still sprawled on a folding chair, staring skeptically at him. Skinny and pale, she had red-rimmed, shockingly-blue eyes and thick, jet-black hair cropped an inch long. She wore a black T-shirt, black pants, and a neon pink belt.

They both looked like Daryn. Unmistakably.

Lindl and Kiri blurred out of focus as Morgan’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out.

Lindl stepped forward and put his arms around Morgan, steadying him. He felt surprisingly sturdy.

Adam cleared his throat and said, “Hi, I’m your cousin, Adam. I hate we have to meet this way.”

Lindl opened his arm and gathered Adam into a three-way embrace. Morgan blinked a couple of times to clear his eyes and saw that Kiri was still sitting. “Kiri? You okay?”

“As good as I can be on the day my dad died.” She sounded tired and sullen. After a moment, she said, “I don’t hug.”

“Oh…” Morgan said brilliantly, “Okay.”

While Morgan was desperately searching for something soothing to say, Kiri asked, “So, do we have any other cousins?”

Morgan felt Adam shake his head. He said, “Nope, just me. I didn’t know I had any cousins until today.” The three-way hug started to break up.

“Yeah, neither did we,” Kiri said. Her eyes focused on Morgan, “What was the deal between you and my dad anyway?”

Morgan wiped at his eyes. He shrugged, “It was all my fault. I was… an unbelievable jerk. When I realized just how wrong I’d been, it was too late. I couldn’t find Daryn… or, of course, you guys either.”

Sounding uncomfortable and a little embarrassed to be listening in on the family’s dirty laundry, the policewoman who’d brought them to the room said, “I’m going to let you guys get to know one another. If you need me, I’ll be out front.”

Kiri ignored the woman, saying, “So, do I have an aunt?”

Morgan had turned back over his shoulder to tell the policewoman okay. By the time he turned back around, Adam was saying, “You did, but she and my dad are getting a divorce.”

Morgan’s eyes had dried enough for him to clearly recognize the basilisk stare Kiri was giving him. She said, “You seem to have a hard time getting along, don’t you?”

Lindl said, “Geez, Kiri.”

At the same time Adam said, “Arlette—your aunt and my mother—is a horrible person. We’re all better off without her.”

To his astonishment, Morgan found himself defending Arlette once again, “Come on, she’s not horrible. She used to be… terrific.” He sighed, “But, it’s true, we haven’t been getting along recently.”

Adam shook his head but didn’t verbally disagree. He said, “How about if we get out of the police station? Seems like it’s draining our spirits.”

Lindl said, “Yeah, we’ve been here way too long.” Kiri didn’t say anything, but she did rise to her feet.

Morgan thought there might be some paperwork involved in removing Lindl and Kiri from police custody, but the police seem to be satisfied by the fact that he was next of kin and had been named in Daryn’s will. The police did confirm Morgan’s contact information in some detail but then they were all free to go.

They’d started across the room toward the exit when Morgan turned back. Leaning down close to the policewoman, he said, “Do we know what happened to my brother yet?”

She said, “You’ll need to ask Officer Lincoln tomorrow. Do you have the phone number?”

Morgan said he did and joined the others at the door. They all went out to the car. Adam said, “We didn’t eat on the drive up. Would you guys like to grab something?”

Kiri said sarcastically, “You could’ve had our last couple slices of jail pizza.”

Morgan felt embarrassed. With all the stress, he hadn’t felt hungry and hadn’t even thought of stopping to eat on the drive up. Somehow, he’d managed to worry about whether Kiri and Lindl had eaten without thinking about his own son. He said, “We could just drive through somewhere if you want.”

Lindl said, “We can go anywhere you want. Don’t worry about Kiri. She never eats and doesn’t seem to think anyone else needs to either.”

As it was close to the parking garage they’d put the car in, they walked down to the Early Girl Eatery. Adam ordered a cheeseburger and Morgan ordered a Reuben. Morgan looked at Kiri and Lindl questioningly, whereupon Lindl ordered a cheeseburger as well. Kiri rolled her eyes. He said, “What? I’m still hungry.”

Kiri looked at Morgan and said, “He already ate more than half that pizza.”

Lindl looked chagrined, “Sorry. I eat a lot.”

Morgan said, “I was a growing boy myself once. Don’t worry about it.”

While they waited, Kiri looked at Morgan, “What kind of work do you do?”

“I’m a software developer…” Morgan paused, trying to think what else to say. He didn’t really want to get into everything that was going on with Matilda. “But, I’m not working right now. So, I’ll be able to spend some time trying to figure out—”

“What to do about us?” Kiri asked, her tone implying that she and Lindl were a couple of inconvenient castoffs.

Lindl shook his head, “Geez, Kiri, could you give it a day before you get snarky?”

Slouched back in her chair and giving Morgan an uncompromising stare, Kiri said, “I already know how he treated Dad.”

Adam said, “I think you should give him a chance—”

Kiri turned abruptly to him, interrupting, “I decide who I give chances to. I’ve had a really bad day, so I’m not feeling very forgiving.”

Anger flashed in Adam’s eyes and he opened his mouth to retort, but Morgan stopped him with a hand on his arm, “It’s okay, Adam. She’s got every right to be upset. About the day she’s had and about how I treated her dad.”

Adam subsided. Lindl looked like he was about to say something too, but then he sat back as well.

They all sat in silence, Morgan wondering what he could do to defuse the tension. He dithered for a couple of minutes, then decided it’d be better to address the elephant rather than pretend it wasn’t there. Besides, his limited understanding of pop psychology suggested that, during bereavement, you should talk about events. Hoping to hell that was right, he said, “So, do you guys know what happened?”

“Yeah,” Kiri said bitterly, “I was there.”

“Officer Lincoln said you performed CPR for a long time. He told me we should be proud of you.”

“Yeah,” Kiri looked away, “But, I didn’t do it good enough to keep him alive, did I?”

She didn’t say anything more, so Morgan tried to prompt her with another question. “The officer said it happened in a mine?”

Kiri was still looking away. She reached up and swiped at her near eye with the back of her wrist, making Morgan realize she was crying but didn’t want them to know. He was about to try to turn the conversation elsewhere, when Lindl decided to try to answer for her. “Yeah, that’s why Dad bought the property. It had someone’s failed gold mine on it. He even found some tiny bits of gold up there, but mostly he wanted—”

Lindl stopped and threw an irritated look at Kiri. Morgan had the distinct impression she’d kicked him under the table as if she didn’t want him telling them why Daryn had wanted a mine. Morgan decided not to ask. Instead, he prompted, “And your dad got shot in the mine? Does anybody know why?”

“Some asshole probably thought we’d struck it rich,” Kiri said heatedly.

“And you were up at the mine when it happened?” Morgan asked her cautiously. “Prospecting or something?”

“No,” Kiri responded, in a tone that suggested she thought the mere idea of prospecting was ridiculous. “Dad was supposed to pick me up at school, but he didn’t. I Ubered home, pissed, and started looking for him so I could give him a piece of my mind. He wasn’t there at the house and I couldn’t see him on the video cameras up at the mine. But I rewound through the camera feeds and saw these two rough looking assholes enter the mine. So, I called—”

She stopped talking when the waiter showed up with their food.

Kiri ate a couple of Lindl’s French fries. Lindl finished the French fries and inhaled his burger. When Morgan only ate half his Reuben, Lindl wolfed down the other half. Morgan thought to himself that he didn’t remember eating that much when he was in his growth spurt. However, the boy definitely wasn’t overweight. He glanced at Adam’s plate and saw he only had a few French fries left. Morgan said, “Well, shall we get you guys home then? Or,” he had a sudden thought, “would you rather stay in a hotel tonight? I mean, if you’d be uncomfortable there at the house right now?”

“Home,” Kiri said, as if there wasn’t any doubt.

Lindl nodded.

Morgan signaled the waiter for the check. When it arrived, Adam handed him his debit card and the waiter walked away again.

Kiri was staring at Adam, “You’re paying?” Her eyes flashed over to Morgan, giving him the kind of look usually reserved for people who stomped kittens.

Adam said, “Yeah, my mom chose this day to throw him out of the house and empty his bank accounts.”

Lindl said, “That’s harsh.”

Kiri said, “So, I guess you need a place to stay, huh?”

Though Morgan felt like he deserved some of it, her attitude was starting to pall. He sighed, and said, “We can stay at a hotel if you’d like. But, I think we should all stay together.”

“Yeah, still no hotel,” Kiri said.

The waiter came and finished the bill with Adam. Kiri got up, saying, “Let’s go.”

They left.

It was late when they got to the house. Kiri immediately went to her room and shut the door. Lindl took Morgan and Adam on a brief tour. From the looks of the fridge, Morgan needed to go to the store the next day. When they got near the top of the stairs, Morgan noticed a fist -sized hole in the sheet-rock on one wall. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but then decided it wasn’t important. As they walked down the hall, Kiri opened her door, eyes red again. She eyed Morgan and said, “I don’t want you sleeping in my dad’s room.”

Morgan gave her a nod, “Okay.”

It was a four-bedroom house, so there was one extra bedroom. Morgan turned to Adam, “You sleep in here. I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs.”

Lindl shrugged, “I’ve got an extra bed. He can sleep in my room. We cousins can get to know one another.”

Morgan looked at Adam who gave him a nod. Morgan set his own suitcase in the spare room.

Friday morning

Morgan didn’t sleep well, frequently waking and worrying about things he should’ve done the day before. After struggling to get more rest, he got up early. Not knowing the house Wi-Fi password, he was forced to set up his phone as a hotspot again.

Using one of his backdoors, he entered Matilda again, this time searching the legal files and finding the revised contract they’d had everyone sign. I should have thought of this yesterday! he thought in irritation. He read through it, finding the devil’s clause. As expected it gave up shares in the company in exchange for a multiple of your annual salary. It was part way down the third of five pages.

Deep in the middle of a long paragraph of dense legalese.

Bastards, he thought.

He forwarded the contract to Roger, asking Roger to call him when he woke up.

While he waited, he researched contract and divorce law online, hoping to gain enough expertise that he’d at least know what questions to ask. After he’d been at it for a while, he decided that—despite how boring he found it—he was glad he’d done it. He’d had a number of misconceptions, including his incorrect belief that Arlette’s infidelity would pose a major problem for her when it came time to settle the divorce.

Roger called, reporting that Trey’d been quite happy with the video recorded by Bill Lake. They both wondered whether there were other employees who, like Bill, still held their original rights because they hadn’t signed the contract. There might even have been some who didn’t sign it because they were gone on vacation during the period in question. The “big three,” as they’d taken to calling Alan, Norm and Terrence, had probably been happy to overlook a few of the smaller players like Bill in order to keep anyone from making a big enough stink to rock the boat.

Shortly after Roger disconnected, Morgan’s phone rang again. This time it was Arlette. “I’m sorry I got so upset yesterday,” she said, sounding contrite. “Come on home. I’m sure we can work this out.”

Your lawyer told you that the revised Matilda contract might not hold up in court, didn’t he? Morgan thought. Tiredly, he said, “I guess I don’t want to work it out anymore, Arlette. But I’d really appreciate it if you put some money back in our account so I’d have some resources while I’m trying to deal with Daryn’s death.”

“If you don’t care about us,” she hissed, “I’m certainly not going to try to help you out with your problems.” She broke the connection.

Adam’s right. She’s a horrible person, Morgan thought. Then he wondered if his opinion was only due to his biased viewpoint. Maybe not, considering how many other people seem to think the same thing.

Morgan was in the kitchen, trying to figure out what he might be able to make for breakfast, when Lindl and Adam came in. “Hey guys,” he said trying not to sound as depressed as he felt. “I’ve been trying to figure out if I could make waffles, would that be good with you?”

“That’d be awesome,” Lindl said. “I know where the waffle iron’s hidden. I see you found the waffle mix.”

Lindl also found a bowl and got out the oil. Morgan found eggs and milk in the fridge and started mixing a batter. Lindl got out the syrup, butter, jam, and silverware, handing them to Adam who set them out on the breakfast bar.

It gave Morgan a good feeling. “You guys get along okay last night?”

They simultaneously said, “Yeah.”

Taking advantage of the opportunity to talk to Lindl without Kiri, Morgan asked, “Last night, you were about to tell me something more about why my brother bought a property with a mine?” He didn’t say anything about how he thought Kiri’d kicked him under the table.

“Yeah,” Lindl said reluctantly, “there’s a project up there that dad and Kiri were working on together. She doesn’t want me to talk about it so I don’t think I should.”

“Okay,” Morgan said, dishing up a waffle and sliding it across the breakfast bar toward Lindl. He picked up a bag of pecans and slid them over too. “Adam and I really like pecans on our waffles. I don’t know if that’s something you’ve tried.”

Lindl’s eyes kind of lit up. “Sounds interesting, I’ll have to try it.”

Morgan had been breaking up some pecans. He scattered them on the waffle iron before he poured on batter for another waffle. When he’d closed the iron, he said, “Um, Lindl?” At Lindl’s nod, he continued, “Was Daryn…” he swallowed, “was he happy?”

Lindl stopped chewing, his eyes wide and focused on Morgan’s. After a moment he choked down his mouthful. A tear ran down his cheek as he said, “Oh yeah. I sure thought so. He and I were buddies, you know…” His voice faltered and he wiped at his cheek, “But he and Kiri… they thrived on each other. That project they had going up at the mine, they were so excited about it, sometimes I wished I was interested in that kind of stuff.”

His voice rough, Morgan said, “What kind of stuff were they interested in? If you, you know, wouldn’t be giving away their secrets?”

“You know, ‘sciency’ stuff.” Lindl shook his head, “I’m more into music.”

Which fits with your shirts, Morgan thought. Today Lindl’s T-shirt had a cartoon of a brain doing cartwheels. The caption said, “This is your brain on music…” Morgan gave a waffle to Adam and turned back to Lindl, “Do you want to tell your sister we’re having waffles?”

Lindl shrugged, “I’d rather let her sleep. She wouldn’t eat anyway and, from what I heard through the wall last night, I don’t think she got much sleep.”

Morgan had been worrying about how much Kiri ate. One slice of pizza and a couple of French fries last night was concerning, but this sounded serious. He said, “Do you think she’s…”

“Anorexic? No. She eats plenty, but not when she’s upset. I, on the other hand,” he grinned, “I eat when I’m happy, I eat when I’m sad, I eat when I’m in love, I eat when I’m desolate…” He shrugged, “You get the idea.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to worry about it,” Morgan said, putting another waffle on Lindl’s plate.

Adam said, “What kind of music do you like?”

“Pretty much anything. Mostly pop though.”

Adam and Lindl started talking about which musicians they liked and promising to hook each other up with playlists of their favorites. Morgan served himself a waffle when Adam had finished his second and Lindl was working on his third. He’d just put his first bite in his mouth when Kiri ran down the stairs and out the back door. Despite his mouth being full, he shouted, “You want something to eat?”

Lindl said, “No point, she’s got her earphones in. She wouldn’t hear you if you were yelling at 120 decibels.”

“Where do you think she’s going?”

“Out for a run. It’s pretty much an every-morning thing.”

Out the window in the distance, Morgan saw her vanish down a trail in an easy lope. Though her stride looked unstrained, it seemed to be eating distance. She wore a black top and tights. The tights had neon pink stripes down the sides.

Lindl spoke, sounding reluctant but resolved, “Sorry. I know she’s been acting like kind of a bitch. Give her a few days. Even minor upsets can really mess her up.” He shook his head, “She was torn up when her cat died. This though…” He sat silent and still for a couple of minutes. Neither Adam nor Morgan offered any platitudes about how it was okay she’d been difficult, somehow feeling insincere little bromides weren’t appropriate that day. Finally, Lindl stirred again, “When she gets her grip again though, you’ll see. She’s amazing.”

Morgan felt touched by Lindl’s obvious love for his sister. He wished he and Daryn had still been that close when they’d been in high school. “How old are you and Kiri?”

“Seventeen and fifteen.”

Adam said, “Wow, she doesn’t look seventeen.”

Lindl turned to stare at him, then saw the twinkle in Adam’s eye. “That’s got to be the lamest dig I’ve ever heard.”

They both laughed. Morgan felt a warming in his soul.

Breakfast over, they worked on a few prosaic items: Wi-Fi passwords, making a shopping list, and learning the number for the digital door lock—1225—the date for Christmas. Lindl got out Daryn’s will for Morgan to read, but Morgan decided to put it off for a little longer.

Morgan called the schools, Adam’s as well as the high school that Lindl and Kiri attended, to tell them that the kids wouldn’t be in that day.

Since they hadn’t seen it last night, Lindl took them over to the garage. Daryn’s truck was in there. A beat up old Nissan Altima was in the other stall. Lindl said the Altima was his, but that he was supposed to share it with Kiri when she got her driver’s license. There was a lot of stuff up in the rafters, some of it unrecognizable.

While they were out at the garage, a police car drove by and headed up the road behind the house. “Where’s he going?” Morgan asked.

“Up to the mine,” Lindl responded. “Maybe we should go up there and see what’s going on?”

“Okay,” Morgan said, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to visit the scene of his brother’s death. “Should we walk, or do we need to take the car?”

“It’s an easy walk,” Lindl said, then looked down at their sneakers. “But, in case we go inside, you guys are gonna want sturdier shoes. I don’t suppose you brought any boots?”

They didn’t have boots, so they had to settle for wearing what they had on. Lindl put on boots, then they started up the narrow dirt road.

There were a couple of policeman guarding the entrance. One of them held up a hand, “Sorry, no one’s allowed in.”

Lindl said, “Um, we’re the owners.” Morgan thought that, though it might not be completely true, it was close enough.

The policeman shrugged, “Sorry, it’s a crime scene. No one’s allowed in.” He lowered his voice, “Besides, there’s still supposed to be a couple of perps in there.”

Lindl gave the cop an astonished look. “They haven’t caught them?!”

The man shook his head, “I haven’t been inside, but I hear the tunnels just go on forever. There’re all kinds of pitch black nooks and crannies where the dudes could be hiding.”

“Oh crap,” Lindl said in an odd tone, “if they’re lost in there…” After a minute, he finished the thought, “If they’re lost, they are so screwed.”

Morgan turned to the cop, “Do you know if they’ve figured out what the guys were after?”

The cop gave him a speculative look, “Seems to me, if anybody would know what they were after, it’d be the owners. You guys got any ID?”

Morgan wondered briefly whether there was any reason to resist providing identification, but he couldn’t think of one. So he pulled out his wallet and showed his driver’s license to the policeman. Lindl and Adam did the same. The policeman looked them over suspiciously, but finally nodded and handed the licenses back. He took out his cell phone and hit an icon. Morgan could hear the faint sound of it ringing, then a voice said, “Yeah?”

The policeman said, “Hey Detective, you still wanting to talk to the owners? They’ve showed up out here at the mine entrance.”

“Owners?” the muffled voice said. “I thought the owner was dead and the only ones left were his two kids?”

“There’s an older guy out here now,” the cop said, looking at Morgan. He covered the cell phone’s mic and said quietly, “You a relative?”

“Brother,” Morgan mouthed.

“It’s the owner’s brother,” the cop said into the phone.

This time Morgan couldn’t hear what the detective said, but the policeman turned off his phone and said, “He’s coming.”

Morgan wondered whether he’d regret talking to the man.

The detective showed up looking distinctly unhappy. Morgan immediately got the impression that the man didn’t like being in the mine. He introduced himself as Detective Chatfield. Looking at Morgan, he jerked a thumb back over his shoulder, “So, what was your brother up to in this mine?”

Morgan slowly shook his head, “I have no idea. He and I had a falling out twenty years ago and I haven’t seen him since. I’ve been looking for him for the last ten, but never had any luck. Then,” he took a deep breath, “I got the call about his murder.”

Chatfield shook his head sympathetically, “That’s gotta be tough. He looked at Lindl and Adam, “Are you his kids?”

Lindl said, “I’m his son.” He motioned at Adam, “This’s my cousin.”

“That’s right,” the detective said, scratching his head, “the other kid’s a girl. She was up here during the shooting, right?”

Lindl nodded.

Still focused on Lindl, the detective said, “Do you have any idea what those guys might have been after?”

Lindl slowly shook his head. “I know my dad found little bits of gold and platinum, but not enough to amount to anything. Certainly not enough to kill anybody for.”

Chatfield doubtfully lifted his chin, “So why the Wi-Fi network and the cameras?”

“He put those in right after he found a little bit of gold. I think he thought he was going to find a lot more,” Lindl shrugged, “but it never panned out.”

The detective didn’t have any more questions, so they started back down the hill. Morgan turned to his nephew, “Installing Wi-Fi and cameras because he’d found a few nuggets? That doesn’t sound like my brother.”

“Like I said, you’ll have to ask Kiri.” After a moment, Lindl said, “I’d recommend you wait a while before you do.”

Just before they got to the house, Kiri glided across the clearing and flowed up the stairs into the house, looking as fresh as she had when she’d loped away. Lindl apparently saw Adam’s eyes on her because he elbowed him and said, “Hey, she’s your cousin!”

Adam blushed, “Yeah, sorry.”

By the time they got into the house, Morgan could hear the shower going upstairs.

Taking Daryn’s will, he went in to sit at the breakfast bar and start reading through it. Upstairs, someone started playing some music. Melancholy acoustic guitar pieces were all Morgan heard. He focused on the will which indeed named him as Lindl and Kiri’s guardian until their majority. It also named him as the executor of the will with Lindl and Kiri being the two equal beneficiaries. They were each to get half of their own share when they reached age eighteen and the other half when they were twenty-five. Evidently the strategy was intended to keep them from foolishly blowing their entire share in the first few years.

What the will didn’t do, was tell Morgan where any of the money in Daryn’s estate might be located

He’d just started to wonder how he’d find the answer to that question when Kiri walked into the kitchen. She had on black jeans and a black T-shirt. There was a large ladybug on the front of the shirt with the word “Don’t” above it and the word “me” below it.

The ladybug and the text were neon pink.

“Don’t bug me,” Morgan thought, not sure what to make of her style choices. There’s certainly a theme to them. He said, “Can I make you some breakfast? The rest of us had waffles. There’s a little batter left, if you’d like?”

“No,” she said. For a bit, Morgan thought that was all she was going to say, but then she sighed, “Toast’s all I can handle right now.”

She put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster and waited for them to pop up. When they did, she plated them and walked around to Morgan’s side of the breakfast bar. She applied a thin smear of butter and took a bite. Glancing over at the papers in front of Morgan, she said, “Couldn’t wait to get into the will, huh?”

Morgan eyed her silently. When she turned to give him a curious look, he said, “Your dad named me as your guardian and as the executor of his will. I have lots of other stuff on my plate right now, but I’m going handle his request to the best of my ability.”

“How much do you get out of it?” Kiri took a bite of her toast.

“Nothing.”

She chewed and swallowed, “Oh.” After a moment more, she said, “Sorry.”

Her expression reminded him of Daryn—when he’d been contrite which hadn’t been all that often. Still, it tugged at his heartstrings. “So am I,” he said quietly. “So sorry he’s dead. Sorry about all the wasted years. Regretting that the last words he and I spoke to one another were ugly. And— sorry that you and I seem to be off to such a bad start ourselves.”

“Yeah, I can be kind of an asshole when I’m upset.” She produced a weak grin, “It’s one of my many flaws.” She took a deep breath, “I’m going to do my best to treat you like my dad didn’t hate you. Unless and until you really do prove to be a jerk.” She studied him for a moment, then said, “So what’s your explanation for why you and my dad didn’t get along? I’ve heard his, but it didn’t make much sense to me.”

Morgan thought back on the long explanation he’d given Adam. He boiled it down to its essence, “I was jealous of how brilliant Daryn was, so I treated him like a jerk. He had plenty of reasons to hate me.”

Kiri frowned, “What were you jealous of? He told me he was jealous of you.”

Morgan’s thoughts foundered on that bizarre claim, but then he decided Daryn had probably been trying to make light of Morgan’s jealousy when talking to his children. Maybe he didn’t want to ruin any chance we had of getting back together. He said, “You know he was almost two and a half years younger than I was, right? He started school two years behind me and we were best friends for what seemed like… forever. But then he decided he wanted to be in my grade…”

“So?”

“So, he skipped two grades to be in the same grade I was in. I just knew it’d be embarrassing to have him catch up to me and my friends. I told him not to skip ahead, but when he still seemed set on it, I started being mean. I hoped he’d decide he didn’t want to be in my class. My classmates teased me about him and I was mortified.” Morgan looked away then spoke in a raspy voice, “I should’ve cared more about Daryn and not given a damn about my classmates.”

“Ah,” Kiri said with a nod, as if she understood.

“You want to tell me about him? Give me a feel for what he was like during all the years I missed?”

“He was my dad,” she said slowly, “so maybe I wouldn’t be the best judge.” She looked at Morgan with a wry grin on her face, “He didn’t always let me have my way, you know? And he’d get focused on stuff… So focused he’d forget everything else. Like I thought he’d done yesterday when he didn’t pick me up. But most of the time he was,” she paused as if hunting for the right word, “just amazing. He was great before Mom died, but after, when it was just him, he was there for Lindl and me every day. He was there more than he and mom had been together. Always ready to work on a project for school, or help me do pretty much anything I wanted to do.”

“Um, he didn’t have to work?”

“Well, I guess. He called himself an inventor. Whenever he’d be doing something with Lindl or me or both of us, he’d say he was doing research.” She shrugged, “Some of his inventions were toys, so it made some sense. When we were little, he listened to us talk about toys, especially ones we thought we wanted that didn’t exist. Then he’d try to invent something along the lines of what we’d said we wanted. Sometimes the new toy would show up in stores and he’d tell us that part of the money from them was going to pay for our college educations.” She got a worried look, “The toys were easy, he said, so there were a lot of them. After we outgrew toys there weren’t so many inventions. He said not to worry; it just took longer to invent stuff for adults. But, he told me that once they were invented the payoff’d be bigger.” She looked at Morgan, “Recently though, he’d been saying we might have to tighten our belts until he could get our newest project working.” She lifted an eyebrow, “Maybe there’s not gonna be all that much for you to disburse on the basis of that will.”

Morgan felt a nervous twitch in his stomach at the thought that Daryn’s financial situation might be worse than his own. I may not have any money, but at least I’m not in the red. Daryn could be holding a big mortgage on this land, the house, and the mine. Maybe some other debts? Credit card debt? Loans for his most recent project?

He started wondering whether the real estate might be worth more than the debt Daryn carried on it. He didn’t even realize he hadn’t been holding up his end of the conversation until, with a little acid in her tone, Kiri said, “What’s the matter? This not turning out to be the windfall you’d hoped?”

Morgan sighed, “I’m worried our finances are going to be… difficult. I don’t know that we’ll have problems for sure, but there are a number of known and possible financial issues.” He eyed her for a moment, “I think it might be good if I explained them to you. Then you’d understand what’s worrying me and not constantly think I’m just trying to get your dad’s money. But, I’m also worried that you don’t need another burden right now.” Morgan watched her face, wondering if he’d be able to tell whether it’d be good or bad for her to talk her way through such issues.

She blithely waved a hand, “Tell me about it. Sounds like it’s going to be my problem too; I’d just as well know what it is.”

Morgan opened his mouth to start explaining it, but then his eyes crossed her plate. She’d eaten about half a piece of toast. Instead, he said, “I don’t know. If you’re so upset you can’t even eat toast, I probably shouldn’t be piling more stuff onto you.”

She picked up the remaining half piece of toast. “Go ahead, I’ll eat. I promise.”

“Okay,” Morgan said. “Adam already told you that yesterday my wife threw me out of the house and emptied my accounts. I imagine you understand that means we’re getting divorced.”

“Yeah, what’d you do to her?”

Morgan felt a grimace start to form in response to this fresh assault, but did his best to keep his expression neutral. He found he still didn’t want to explain the whole Matilda fiasco. “My… The company I worked for got bought out and everyone got laid off. I failed to negotiate the exit strategy she’d hoped for.”

“So, you not only have no money, you have no job.”

“Essentially correct. In theory, half the money that Arlette and I had at the time of our separation yesterday will belong to me in the divorce. However, by North Carolina law we won’t be officially divorced until we’ve been separated for a year. I’m expecting it’ll be hard to extract any money from her until all the legal stuff’s done. In fact, that’d be why she cleaned out our bank accounts. She hopes to claim that since the money was in her personal accounts at the time of our separation, it all belonged to her, not to us.” He sighed, “So, you’re right. I have no money and no job. A friend’s agreed to lend me $10,000, but that might not last long.” He decided not to try to explain that he had some retirement accounts in his name alone. Arlette wouldn’t have been able to get to those, but to his understanding there were some significant tax and other financial consequences if he took money out of them before he retired. Another thing I’d better find out about, he thought.

Kiri frowned, “Seems like $10,000 ought to last quite a while. Are you some kind of big spender?”

Morgan realized that, at fifteen, Kiri was probably pretty naïve about money. “No, you’re right, it should last quite a while, if there aren’t any outstanding debts to deal with. I’m not worried about the mortgage on my house. If Arlette won’t give me access to the money we had in the bank, I’ll figure she has to make the payments on our mortgage. The things I am worried about include the possibility that there’s a mortgage on your property that needs to be paid each month. There might be a loan on your dad’s truck or the Altima that needs to be serviced. Certainly, you’ve got utility bills that’ll have to be paid. It’s possible your dad has some credit card debt or maybe even other kinds of debt that have to be paid off. We’d have to, at the minimum, pay the interest on any credit card debt. Are you guys going to public school or is there some kind of private school tuition I’ll need to worry about?”

Kiri’d been looking more and more concerned as Morgan listed possible expenses. “Um, public high school, but I’m taking some dual enrollment classes at the local college. Lindl takes music lessons.” She winced, “I admit, I have no idea how much any of this stuff costs or how it’s paid for.”

“Do you know where your dad does his banking? Where he might keep financial records, passwords for his computer, stuff like that?”

She jumped down off of the barstool. “I know the computer password and I can show you where his paper files are.”

“Finish your toast first.” When she paused and got back up on the stool, he said, “Talk to me about pleasant stuff. Tell me about your dreams.”

“Dreams? They were all nightmares last night. Not pleasant in any way.” She took a bite of toast.

“Not those kind of dreams. I want to know what you hope to do with your life.”

She finished chewing and swallowing, a distant look in her eyes. “I’ve always been planning on being an inventor like dad. He and I were always talking about ideas and we were working on…”

“Working on?”

Kiri shrugged, “Some ideas. Without him I don’t know how they’d go anywhere.” She took another bite of toast, her eyes starting to well with tears.

Trying to get her mind on a different track, Morgan said, “What about Lindl? Do you know what his dreams are?”

She swallowed her bite, though it looked like it went down hard. “Music. With him it’s always music, music, music. Dad used to warn him that only one in 10,000 musicians got rich and the rest barely survived. He’d say, ‘Go for it if you want, but expect to be poor.’ I had it in my mind,” she chuckled bitterly, “that I’d be making enough money to support him. At least so he wouldn’t starve. But recently I’ve started to realize that inventing can be pretty difficult. Turns out that not every idea just magically works out. I’ve been wondering if maybe only a tenth of a percent of inventors get rich, just like musicians.” She shrugged, “I guess I’ll need to major in something that’ll provide me a decent day job.” She looked suddenly apprehensive, “If I can afford to go to college.”

Grimly, Morgan said, “We’ll get you through college somehow. Try not to worry about that one.”

She got up and picked up her second piece of toast. “Let me show you where the files are. I’ll eat this as we go.”

Morgan’s initial reaction was that she’d be dropping crumbs all around the house. He decided that was the least of their problems. He got up too.

Daryn’s file cabinet proved to be quite small and Morgan worried because there wasn't a lot in it. Pulling out a file folder labeled “important documents” he saw it had their Social Security cards, Daryn’s marriage certificate, his wife’s death certificate, and the kids’ birth certificates.

Morgan’s heart stumbled when he glanced at one of the birth certificates and saw, “Morgan Lindl Djai,” written on it. At first he wondered why his name was on the certificate.

Then he realized that his brother had named his first child after him. The kid went by his middle name, not his first. Morgan burst into tears and just sat huddled in the chair, rocking back and forth. I guess he forgave me long before I forgave him, Morgan thought, bitterly angry at himself.

When he had his emotions under control, he finished looking through the paper files, continuing to worry because there were so few. He realized why as soon as he’d gotten on Daryn’s computer using the password Kiri provided. Apparently, Daryn scanned all their important papers and stored them as PDFs, most of them without keeping the paper originals. That proved quite a boon since Morgan could use the computer to search for documents he wanted.

He’d just found a folder labeled “Financial” when he got a phone call from Officer Lincoln. He answered, “Hello, Officer. I was planning to call you pretty soon anyway. Have they learned anything more about my brother’s death?”

“Um, that’s kind of what I’m calling about. The autopsy’s been completed, but the results aren’t back yet. They haven’t released your brother’s body yet, but they’ve asked me to find out who you want it released to when the time comes. Also, they’re releasing his personal effects if you want to pick them up.”

“I’ll have to research funeral homes before I can answer the first question, but I would like to pick up his effects. His credit cards would be really helpful as I try to straighten out his financial affairs.” Morgan paused, then said, “Is there anything else you can tell us? Have they found the men that killed him yet? Determined a motive or anything?”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lincoln said, “Detective Chatfield hasn’t released any of that kind of information yet.”

“Do you know when he will?”

“I’m afraid that depends on the progress of the case. Sorry.”

“Okay,” Morgan said, resignedly, “where do I go to pick up his effects?”

Morgan headed up the stairs to tell the young people where he was going. He could still hear the melancholy acoustic guitar music. It’d also been playing when he’d been upstairs looking in the file cabinet earlier. He felt a little surprised that someone had so much sad instrumental guitar music, all of a similar style. He worried it was Kiri’s, but the music was actually coming from Lindl’s room. The door was open so he didn’t have to knock. When he looked into the room he saw Adam and Kiri sprawled on one bed. Lindl was sprawled on the other, playing an acoustic guitar. It’s not a recording! Morgan thought with surprise. He’d thought the sounded quite professional.

I guess this explains why there’s so much of it, he thought.

Apparently deep in their own thoughts, none of the young people looked up at him. He just stood there, at first because he didn’t want to interrupt. After he’d been standing there for a while, he realized there was something hypnotically soothing about the music. He stepped quietly into the room and sat on the chair at the desk, feeling calmed.

Eventually, Lindl’s fingers slowed and the piece gently came to an end. Lindl looked at Morgan, “Can I help you with anything? I’ve just been kind of selfishly sitting up here playing music because it makes me feel better.”

Morgan gave him a nod, “It makes me feel better too. Thanks.” He was about to ask for some more music when he remembered he had a lot to do. “Actually, I came up here to let you guys know I’m going into town to pick up Daryn’s personal effects. They’ve released them and having his credit cards will help me figure out your financial situation. I’ll get groceries while I’m out.”

Adam got up, saying, “I’ll drive.”

Thinking that it wouldn’t be good to leave Lindl and Kiri there alone, Morgan was about to say something about how Adam should stay, but then Lindl and Kiri both got up. They said they’d like to go as well. Morgan decided they just wanted to get out of the house.

***

The man that gave them Daryn’s effects frowned a little when he picked up the box. When he set it down on the counter in front of them Morgan was surprised by the solid thump it made. The box contained a wallet, a key fob with a Ram symbol that probably went with Daryn’s Dodge truck, a Samsung cell phone, a Swiss army knife and a half package of Rolaids.

And, an odd-looking silvery white lump of metal. Morgan estimated it at about 3 x 3 x 1 centimeters. Well, it might be more like 15 mm thick, he thought. He wondered what the hell it was. Curiously, he picked it up to see if it had some shape to the bottom side of it that’d make it more useful than the little brick it appeared to be.

Or, he tried to pick it up. His fingers slipped off. He grabbed it again, this time more firmly.

His fingers had slipped off because it was heavy. He almost asked the man who’d handed him Daryn’s effects what the little metallic brick was. Then he thought better of it since he couldn’t imagine why the man would know. Slipping the chunk of metal into his pocket, he asked the man if they had a little bag he could put the effects in.

The guy shrugged, “There’s a lid for the box. It’s underneath.”

Morgan realized that the box was sitting in its inverted lid. He separated the two and closed it. “Do I need to sign something?”

The man held out an electronic terminal and Morgan signed.

As they left, Morgan looked at Kiri and Lindl. They’d been talking to Adam and didn’t seem to have noticed the chunk of metal. He said, “Hey, Adam, you feel up to buying everyone lunch? I’m hungry and we still have to buy groceries before we go home. I think it’d be nice to take a little break away from the house.”

Adam shrugged, “Sure, I’d like that too. He turned to Kiri and Lindl, “You guys have any suggestions as to where we should go?”

Enthusiastically, Lindl said, “12 Bones! It’s an awesome barbecue place. It’s only open for lunch and only during the week so Kiri and I hardly ever get to go.”

12 Bones proved to be an unpretentious place, but it had a line waiting out the door. The smell of the barbecue was mouthwatering. Adam elbowed Lindl, “How many racks of ribs am I gonna have to buy for you?”

Lindl grinned at him, “They have four flavors of ribs. One rack of each oughta do me.”

Adam gave him a wide-eyed look, “My poor little debit card’s gonna melt!”

When they actually got up to the cashier, they each ordered a half rack except Lindl who ordered two half racks, one each of two different flavors. With side dishes, it seemed like a lot of food, but Morgan figured they could take some home and eat them as leftovers.

They sat outside, drinking tea and waiting for their food. The weather was beautiful. Some question got Adam talking about his robotics club. Kiri found the idea of building a fighting robot fascinating and started asking him questions. Even Lindl seemed a little interested, making a few perceptive comments.

Morgan just sat, avoiding the temptation to interject his own comments so he could just listen to the cousins getting along. He decided what he was feeling was a peaceful sadness. The peace came from finally being reunited with his family, the sadness from losing his brother before it’d happened.

The ribs proved to be just as good as Lindl had promised. Lindl ate his two half racks and three of the ribs in Kiri’s half rack. Adam finished off his half rack.

Morgan was the only one who had any ribs left over to take home.

Friday afternoon

Arriving back home, they put away groceries. Lindl said he was going up to the mine to see whether the police were still there. Kiri gave him a surprised look, “Why would they still be there?”

Lindl scratched his head, “They were still there this morning. Said they still hadn’t found the two guys that were in the mine.”

“You’re kidding!”

Lindl slowly shook his head, “I think those guys might be lost in there.”

Without much expression, Kiri said, “Serve ‘em right if they are. I’ll go with you.”

Adam turned to Morgan, “I’m gonna go too, okay?”

Morgan nodded, wanting to go, but feeling like he had too many things to work out.

Once they’d gone, he got the lump of metal out of his pocket. Its weight, dragging on his pocket and waistband, had been annoying him. He scratched at it with a fingernail and hefted it, wondering how he could determine what it was. It certainly didn’t look like a tool, and as heavy as it was, he didn’t think it could possibly be hollow. It just doesn’t seem like Daryn to be carrying around a useless chunk of metal. Maybe I should take it somewhere and have it assayed to determine what it’s made of?

Deciding that had to be low on his list of priorities at present, he took it upstairs and put it in the desk drawer in the spare room. Back downstairs, he picked out a funeral home and called that in to Officer Lincoln.

Then he started trying to learn what the issues would be if he had to take some money out of his retirement account. A 10% penalty, plus I have to pay taxes on what I take out. He decided it was a plausible solution, but it’d be his last resort.

Morgan went back to the financial folder on Daryn’s computer. He’d just begun to understand how Daryn had organized things when he realized the kids had been gone what seemed a surprisingly long time. At first he thought they were probably fine. Just not thinking about my concerns, like typical teenagers. Then he thought about how Kiri had gone through a similar thought process when Daryn hadn’t shown up on time yesterday. With a sigh, he got up and left the house.

When Morgan arrived at the mine entrance, the kids were nowhere to be seen. The policeman who’d been guarding the entrance that morning was still there. Morgan said, “Have you seen the young people who came up here with me this morning?”

He nodded, “The detective’s got the girl inside, explaining her story about what she says went down. She didn’t want to go with the detective by herself, so the two boys went with her.”

Something about the situation made Morgan uncomfortable. “Now that her dad’s dead, I’m her guardian. I’d like to be with her too.”

The policeman looked uncertain. Getting out his phone, he said, “I’ll see what the detective says.” He spoke briefly then hung up. Turning to Morgan, he said, “They’re on their way out.”

Morgan found this irritating. He thought he should be allowed to go in and check on his niece and nephew. However, he decided not to raise a ruckus.

The minutes dragged by. He had no idea how deep in the mine the detective and the kids were, but it seemed like it was taking a long time for them to come out, at least if they’d actually started on their way out when the detective had said. Morgan was just about to say something to the policeman again when the door at the entrance of the mine opened.

The three teenagers did not look happy. The detective looked frazzled. He immediately walked far enough from the entrance to get out into the sunshine. He turned back to the Djai’s after taking a couple of deep breaths and moving his shoulders about as if he were stretching. He fixed them with an intense gaze and said, “Okay, you can go. But don’t go too far.” He turned and went back in the mine.

Morgan turned to the policeman, “What did he mean by that?”

The policeman shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Adam tugged on Morgan’s shirt. When he turned around, Kiri and Lindl were already on their way down the road to the house. “What’s been going on?” Morgan asked Adam, but allowed himself to be led away.

“The detective’s been asking Kiri lots of questions. Where she was. Where her dad was. Where the guy was when he grabbed her. How the guy was holding her—”

Morgan interrupted, “One of those guys grabbed Kiri? I hadn’t heard about that!”

“Yeah, well, we hadn’t heard much, had we? Now I’ve heard a lot, but it’s all pretty confusing.” Adam glanced at Morgan, “And somewhat disturbing. Apparently, she called 9-1-1 because she saw two guys in the mine on security camera recordings. Once emergency services said the police were on the way, she went into the mine herself before the cops actually got here.”

“She did?” Morgan said, astonished.

Adam nodded, “They told her to wait, but she said she would’ve hated herself forever if something bad had happened to her dad before she got there, so she went in by herself.”

“And one of the guys grabbed her?”

“Yeah, apparently her dad’d been hiding. But once the guy got ahold of Kiri, he used her to force her dad to come out. Then the guy shot her dad. Kiri says she didn’t know the guy had a gun, but it went off when she hit him in the nuts trying to escape.” Adam looked at his dad, “I think she blames herself for getting her dad killed.”

“She didn’t shoot him!”

“No, but if she hadn’t been captured, and if she hadn’t hit the guy in the nuts…”

“Oh…”

“Dad?”

Morgan nodded.

“That detective was asking her some really… pointed questions. Like he might think she shot her dad.”

“What?!”

“He kept going on about how they couldn’t find any ‘alleged perps’ and that there wasn’t any evidence that there’d actually been any men in the mine.” Adam turned to look at Morgan, “He says there was gunpowder residue on Kiri’s right hand but not her left. Whatever that means.”

“Wait. I thought the security cameras recorded video of two guys in the mine?”

“Yeah, I think that’s where Kiri and Lindl are going. To try to download the video so they can show the detective. He said he needed to see it.”

When Morgan and Adam arrived at the house, they found Kiri and Lindl on what Morgan thought of as the house computer. It was a desktop model in a nook just off the kitchen. The two teenagers looked distraught. “Is there a problem with the video?” Morgan asked.

Kiri sobbed. Lindl looked up bleakly. “To save disk space it only keeps twenty-four hours of video. Then it starts recording over it. It’s been more than twenty-four hours.”

“Wait!” Morgan said, “Kiri! Let me sit down.”

She looked up at him like he wasn’t making any sense. She blinked, “What?”

“Let me sit down! Maybe I can save the video.” He leaned over her to grab the mouse, “Where’s the video recording program?!”

Getting up slowly, Kiri said, “It’s already been recorded over. There’s no point—”

Frustrated, Morgan said, “Kiri! This’s what I do. Computer stuff’s my life. The video files have probably only been marked so they can be recorded over. They may not’ve actually been recorded over. But they might be getting recorded over right this moment, so please point out the program that records the video.”

Kiri reached out and touched an icon on the desktop. Morgan absently noticed her fingernail was painted neon pink. The other nine were black. Why am I noticing that now, he wondered, thinking that there were so many other important things he should be paying attention to.

He clicked the icon and the program immediately opened, suggesting it was active. Once it was open he could see a glowing red dot suggesting it was still recording video. A policeman went by inside the mine tunnel while Morgan was trying to figure out how to shut off the recording function.

He realized that the red dot was also the on/off and clicked it.

He called up Task Manager and looked for any other active programs that might also be recording to the hard drive. He shut down any that were even questionable, then relaxed back into the seat. “Okay, nothing’s recording to the hard drive now, so if the video file hasn’t already been recorded over, I might be able to find it.”

Morgan pondered the options. He didn’t want to install any software on the computer to help him search for the files that had been marked to be over-written. If he did that the new software itself might be recorded over the video he was looking for. “Adam,” he said looking around.

Adam wasn’t there, but Kiri was right behind him. She said, “Can I help?”

“No,” Morgan said, getting up, “I need to get an external hard drive out of my suitcase.” He trotted up the stairs and got the four terabyte drive he’d recorded his home computer onto. When he plugged it into the house computer it proved to have plenty of room left to record the entire 500 gigabytes of the hard drive on the house computer. It would hold that in addition to the backup of the hard drive from his computer back home. Presuming that Kiri was curious about what he was doing, he spoke back over his shoulder toward her, “I’m going to back up the house computer’s entire drive onto this external drive. By the entire drive, I mean not just the files. I’ve got a little piece of software that’ll make it record every byte on the disk, even the deleted files that haven’t been overwritten. That way, I can’t accidentally record over the security camera videos while installing software on the house computer. I’ll be able to search the copy of the house computer’s hard drive on the external drive using my laptop. I’ll install special data recovery software on my laptop and search this external drive with the laptop.”

Sounding contrite, Kiri said, “Thanks for explaining. I’m sorry I was so slow to move out of your way earlier.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said softly, “I’m sorry I barked at you.” The drive started recording so he turned around and got up. He looked at her with worried eyes. “Adam said the detective was really hitting you with a lot of hard questions?”

She nodded.

“If he tries to do it again, remember you’re entitled to a lawyer when they’re questioning you. You should at least have me with you as your guardian.”

She swallowed, “Thanks.” After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I think… He seems to think I did it.”

“But you didn’t, right?”

She shook her head, “No!” Then, with a sag in her shoulders, “Maybe I’d just as well have. I hit that guy in the crotch and that’s what made him pull the trigger.” Her eyes dropped to the floor, “If I’d stayed out of the mine like they told me to… Dad’d still be alive.”

Morgan hesitated, not sure exactly what to say. He ventured, “It’s… natural to blame yourself. But, it’s not actually your fault that bad people do bad things.”

“But…”

Morgan gathered her into a hug. “It’s not your fault.” He’d been gently holding her for a couple of minutes, feeling her shoulders jerking with little sobs, when he remembered her telling him that “she didn’t hug.” He wondered if she was mad about him hugging her, but she didn’t seem to be pulling away. He gave it another thirty seconds, then loosened up and searched for her eyes, “You okay?”

She sniffed and nodded. “But I don’t like that asshole,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” Morgan sighed, “neither do I.”

Kiri said she wanted to go up to her room. After she left, Morgan downloaded a data recovery program onto his laptop. He was about to turn back to Daryn’s finances when he got a call from Roger.

After bringing Roger up to date on the situation in Asheville, he said, “What’s up down there?”

“Treyvn says the big three are trying to play hardball.”

Morgan frowned, “Does he think they can win?”

“No, but he thinks they might hope to make things so difficult that we decide to negotiate.”

Morgan’s initial reaction was to tell them they could go to hell. He could wait to get the money. Then he remembered that, even if he’d actually saved up money he could live on in the meantime; he didn’t really have access to much of it. Then he realized, I can just take the hit and start withdrawing my retirement. “Screw ‘em. I’m happy to wait ‘em out.” He had another thought, “How are we paying Trey?”

“By the hour. He isn’t cheap.”

“Thank God. I suddenly worried he was working on a 33% contingency fee.”

Roger laughed, “I’m sure he’d like to be. He offered to do it for a 15% contingency fee since the case had a potential huge payout, but I ran the numbers and decided $45 million sounded like an awful lot, no matter how much he charges by the hour.”

Morgan blinked, “Then we know how much they sold Matilda for?”

“No, I’m just working from a round figure of 600 million. A hundred million for each of the five founders and a hundred million for the employees’ share.” He produced an uncomfortable chuckle, “Of course, if we lose, we’ll wish we’d gone with the contingency fee.”

***

With a little time on his hands, Morgan started digging through Daryn’s finances. He found Daryn’s income tax returns which attributed about eighty percent of his income to invention royalties. Daryn also had some income from investments in a number of stock market index funds. The biggest expense by far was the property mortgage—of $4,862 per month! At first Morgan couldn’t imagine why it was so high. It was a half hour drive from downtown Asheville. The house wasn’t huge—he would’ve estimated 2200 square feet—or particularly modern. The view out across the valley was spectacular, but according to an online mortgage calculator, a loan with that kind of payment had to be for somewhere around $1 million. Then he realized that with the mine being so far up behind the house the property might be as big as 10 to 20 acres. He had a hard time believing that the mine was worth much, but a savvy businessman might be able to subdivide the land into a number of smaller parcels, each with its own great view out across the valley.

Other significant expenses included property taxes, as well as quarterly income taxes that had to be sent in to the government since Daryn didn’t have a paycheck to have taxes withheld from. There were payments for what Morgan thought were surprisingly expensive music lessons for Lindl and tuition at UNC Asheville for the “dual-enrollment” courses for Kiri.

Morgan paused to think about that. If Kiri was fifteen, he thought she should be a sophomore. Are sophomores allowed to take dual enrollment courses? he wondered. He’d thought only seniors and possibly juniors were allowed to do so. She might be a grade ahead of what I think? He blinked, Or two grades ahead, like her dad. I guess I’ll have to ask her. He decided that, at the moment, it didn’t actually matter. She was taking the courses, so he needed to figure out how to pay for them.

Daryn’s truck and the kids’ car were apparently owned outright, at least Morgan couldn’t find any car payments. There were credit card payments, but Daryn paid them off each month so at least there wasn’t any credit card interest. Utilities were apparently direct billed to one of the credit cards. Astonishingly, the electrical bill fluctuated wildly. The most recent one was more than five times what Morgan’s electric bill had averaged back home. He lifted his head and looked around, wondering how it could possibly be so much.

As Morgan tried to get a sense for total expenditures versus total income each month, he got a little frustrated. The royalty payments varied significantly from month-to-month. Some of them were paid annually and some of them quarterly. The quarterly payments apparently depended on sales because they weren’t consistent. The credit card bills also varied widely. Morgan thought that was because Daryn intermittently bought expensive equipment for research and inventing projects using one of his credit cards.

But there won’t be any more investments in expensive equipment, Morgan thought sadly. Unfortunately, that’s a decrease in expenditures that’ll eventually result in a loss of income.

After spending more time on it than he wanted, Morgan decided that over a year’s time, income should approximately balance expenditures, at least until the royalty income dropped off some more. However, there would likely be months when income was significantly less than expenses. Apparently Daryn had used a money market account at the credit union to deal with such fluctuations, but it only had $8,800 in it at present.

I guess I could sell some of Daryn’s stock, Morgan thought. However, he felt like part of the charge given him in the will was to preserve Daryn’s money for his niece and nephew. If I don’t sell some stock though, it’s going to be hard sending them to college out of declining royalty income.

Suddenly he realized that he could markedly cut expenses by selling the property. Cutting out that huge mortgage payment would put them way ahead of the game. If they all moved into a smaller house the money would go a lot further. They’d be better off renting since Lindl, then Adam, then Kiri would each be moving out and going away to college over the next few years. If they were renting, downsizing would be easier.

And they certainly didn’t need a mine.

***

Trying to figure out what they could eat for dinner, Morgan was in the pantry when he noticed a small electronic scale. Intermittently, he’d been thinking about how the small block of metal that Daryn’d had in his pocket must be pretty dense to be so heavy at such a small size. Depending on how accurate this scale is I might be able to measure its density pretty closely, he thought.

He pushed the button to turn the scale on, then fooled around with it until he got it to register weight in grams. He went back out to the kitchen nook where they had the house computer. There was a little bowl full of change sitting on the desk. He searched through it and found a nickel, then went back in and weighed it on the scale, getting a result of five grams.

He paused. He’d been told that a nickel weighed five grams, but he didn’t know whether that was exact. He opened a Google search on the computer and determined that a nickel’s weight should be five grams with pretty good precision. He searched through the bowl and found six more nickels. When he weighed all seven, the scale gave him a figure of thirty-five grams. He couldn’t think of another way to check its accuracy but decided it was probably close enough.

He went upstairs and got the little block of silvery white metal and a wire coat hanger. The chunk of metal weighed 338 grams.

He Googled how to measure volume by water displacement. He didn’t have a graduated cylinder, but knew there was some way to do it using a scale.

Back in the kitchen, he found an empty jar and filled it most of the way with water. Stepping into the pantry, he turned on the scale, checked to be sure that it was still zeroed and set for grams, then set it on one of the shelves. He spent a couple of minutes bending the coat hanger into a shape that would provide a small cradle to hold the block of metal. He hooked his coat hanger cradle on the scale, adjusting its shape so that the cradle hung just a little way above the wide shelf beneath the one with the scale on it.

He placed the jar with the water on the lower shelf and hooked his coat hanger cradle on the scale again so that the bottom end of the cradle was immersed in the water. Using the tare function on the scale he set it to zero with the coat hanger cradle hanging on it—but partly supported by the fact that part of the cradle was immersed in water.

He paused and thought for a second, then decided everything looked correct. He lifted the wire out of the water, carefully placed the block of metal in the cradle, then immersed the block so that the hook was on the scale again. Now the scale said 323 grams. He subtracted 338 minus the 323. So it displaced about fifteen ccs of water. Dividing 338 grams by fifteen ccs gave him a figure of 22.5 grams per cubic centimeter.

A Google search showed him that twenty-two point five grams per cc was between the densities of iridium and osmium, the two densest elements. However—he did some calculations—if because of the limited accuracy of the scale, it actually weighed 338.5 grams and its volume was 14.5 ccs, its density could be as high as 23.34 grams per cubic centimeter. That was denser than any known element, so obviously incorrect. But if it weighed 337.5 grams and its volume was 15.5 ccs, its density could be as low as 21.77 grams per cubic centimeter. That was a little denser than platinum, the third densest element.

He supposed it could be some kind of mixture, all three elements were silvery, though osmium was supposed to be a little bit bluish rather than silvery-white like platinum and iridium. In any case, he didn’t know of any way to fake densities and a search showed him that all three metals were valuable. The little block of metal would range from $4,300 if it was osmium to $12,700 if it was iridium. Platinum would come in somewhere in the middle at about $9,800.

If this scale was more accurate, I’d have a better idea what it is. Though that wouldn’t answer the question of what the hell Daryn was doing, walking around with a big chunk of precious metal in his pocket. Or where he got it. Or whether those guys killed him because of it.

After some thought, Daryn logged onto Amazon and ordered a scale accurate to a hundredth of a gram. He wanted one with accuracy to a thousandth of a gram, but couldn’t find one with that degree of accuracy that also had sufficient capacity for a 338 gram chunk of metal. Right after he ordered it, he thought, Wait a minute. If Daryn’s been doing something involving precious metals, maybe he’s already got an accurate scale.

Morgan put the Amazon order on hold, then went to look for Kiri or Lindl.

Kiri wasn’t in her room, but Lindl was. He was playing another melancholy but soothing tune on his guitar. Morgan listened patiently, thinking once again that Lindl’s playing sounded professional. Lindl had a tube on one of the fingers of his left hand and was sliding it up and down the neck of the guitar to produce gorgeous sounding glissandos and vibratos. Is he as good as I think he is? Morgan wondered, wishing he knew more about music so he’d be a better judge.

As the piece Lindl was playing came to an end, he sang along with the last couple of lines. Morgan’s nephew had a rich baritone voice and Morgan thought he was perfectly on key. The lyrics had a mystical and profound sense to them, and Morgan thought he’d surely remember them later.

Sadly, he didn’t.

Lindl looked up and appeared surprised, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were waiting. Don’t worry about interrupting me if you need something.” He shrugged, “I don’t notice much when I’m playing.”

Thinking Lindl had inherited that intense concentration from Daryn, Morgan shrugged, “I like listening to you play, but I did come up here with another goal in mind. Do you know if your dad had any digital scales? I need to weigh some… little objects.”

If Lindl thought the question was bizarre, it wasn’t evident. He shrugged, “There’s a digital scale in the pantry.”

“Yeah, I found that one. It’s not quite accurate enough. I’m looking for something like you might use for jewelry or science. Something like that. Accurate to less than a gram.”

“You might look in the basement. There’s a lot of science stuff down there.”

“There’s a basement?” Morgan said, somewhat surprised. “How do I get down there?”

“The basement stairs are beneath the stairs that come up to this floor. There’s a door into them off the hallway on the main floor.”

Morgan shook his head, thinking that he knew exactly the door Lindl was talking about. He’d thought it was a storage closet. “I know which one you’re talking about, thanks.”

Morgan went downstairs to check out the basement. When he opened the door and clicked on the light he felt astonished. It was huge, and absolutely filled with tools. At first glance he saw what looked like a commercial drill press, metal cutting band saw, a small CNC mill, a laser cutter, and a 3-D printer. There were sturdy benches with racks of tools suspended on the walls behind them and a bunch of large rolling tool cabinets. I guess if he made a living as an inventor, he must have needed this much equipment so he could fabricate prototypes.

Morgan found a precision digital scale on a counter with a lot of other electronic equipment. It weighed with milligram precision, but its capacity was only fifty grams.

He went back upstairs and tried to place the order for the 0.01 gram scale from Amazon. Even though he should have expected it, he was still surprised when the order didn’t go through. My credit cards! Irritated, he got up and went to ask Adam if he could borrow his debit card.

Finding Adam was difficult and Morgan had to resort to calling his name. A door opened upstairs, and when Morgan looked he found Adam coming out of Kiri’s room. A little nonplussed, he said, “Um, I’m trying to order something from Amazon and need to borrow your debit card.”

“Okay,” Adam said, coming down the stairs in his stocking feet.

As Adam was putting his debit card number in the order form on the Amazon site, Morgan said, “You and Kiri getting along?”

Adam didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, without looking up, he said, “Yeah, she’s… she’s pretty amazing.” He got up from the desk and headed for the stairs.

Morgan finished the order, then resumed trying to figure out what they’d have for dinner.

Morgan made pasta Alfredo with Italian sausage. As they were eating, he saw several police cars and a van drive down the hill from the mine. Two of the police cars, one unmarked, stopped in front of the house, but the others went on. The detective got out and walked up to the door. A cop got out of the marked car and followed him.

Morgan got up, “Adam, why don’t you answer the door. I’m going to go check to see what the data recovery program came up with.”

Lindl pushed his chair back, “I can get the door.”

Morgan said, “I’d rather you and your sister didn’t talk to the detective without me standing beside you. Let Adam do it, if you don’t mind.”

Adam went to the door while Morgan checked on the program. It’d been running for hours now and, when he looked, he found it’d detected a lot of deleted files, but as he skimmed through them he didn’t see any that looked like video files from the security camera system.

Adam appeared at Morgan’s side, “The detective wants to talk to Kiri.”

Morgan sighed and stood up, “Let me talk to him first.”

He went to the front door. Morgan again thought the detective looked stressed. His hair was a mess and his eyes looked a bit wild. Morgan had the distinct impression that Chatfield hated being in the mine. Or, could this be the way he always looks? Morgan glanced at the uniformed policeman and thought the man was working hard to maintain a neutral expression. He said, “Hello Detective… Chatfield right?”

The detective nodded, looking mulish. “I need to talk to the girl.”

“I’m her guardian. What do you need to talk to her about?”

“She claims her dad set up some kind of video recording system that kept the videos from the security cameras up there in the mine. She said she’d get copies for me.”

“Yes sir, I’ve been trying to help her with that. Unfortunately, the system only stores the video for twenty-four hours. I’ve been—”

Chatfield looked pissed. “Yeah, right. I’m putting her under arrest, bring her out here.”

Morgan glanced to his left and saw Kiri standing, wide-eyed, about six feet away. He lifted his left hand to block her coming any closer, then waved her away. Turning back to the detective, he said, “You didn’t let me finish. I’ve installed some software on the computer system and it’s trying to restore the deleted files.”

“Yeah, sure it is,” Chatfield said, his disbelief evident. “And, I’ll bet it hasn’t found them, has it?”

“Because the files are no longer correctly labeled, the program has to search the entire drive in detail. That can take a long time.”

The detective rolled his eyes, “Sure it can. Let me talk to the girl.”

Adam stepped up next to Morgan, tugging on his arm and leaning his mouth close to his ear. As Morgan looked down, he saw Adam had his phone in his hand. He whispered, “I found a legal advice site online. It says they can’t arrest you in your home without a warrant.”

Morgan turned his attention back to the detective, “You’ve already said you intend to arrest her. Do you have a warrant?”

“I don’t need a warrant. I have probable cause to believe she murdered her father.”

“It’s my understanding that you do have to have a warrant if you’re going to arrest her in her home.” Morgan glanced again at the uniformed policeman and decided the man looked uncomfortable with the situation.

“Just tell her to come here.”

“Hang on, I’m going to call my attorney before we comply with that request.”

Looking disgusted, Chatfield said, “You’ve already lawyered up? You should be worried; you’re living with a killer.”

“I’m not. I trust her absolutely. And to address your first point,” Morgan said, getting out his phone, “I’m lawyered up to deal with my divorce. I suspect that arrests are not his specialty but that he’ll know a lot more about them than I do.” He looked down at the phone to call up his contacts.

Sounding disgusted, Chatfield turned away as he said, “I’ll be back with a warrant. She’d better not go anywhere.”

Morgan called after him, “What’s the evidence you’re basing this ‘probable cause’ on?”

Chatfield just shook his head and kept walking.

Though his knees felt a little weak, Morgan stayed in the doorway until the two men were in their cars and had started driving away. He turned to see how Kiri was taking the events. She looked shrunken, her head hanging down. Lindl had his arms around her. Adam fidgeted next to them, looking like he wished he knew what to do. Morgan got down on one knee so he could look up into Kiri’s downturned eyes, “It’s gonna be okay.”

She lifted hollow eyes, “It’s not—”

Lindl produced a gentle snort, “You’re such a pessimist. Don’t forget you’re innocent!”

Morgan called Vic Naylor, profusely apologetic to be bothering him on a Friday night. Naylor was polite enough to claim he didn’t mind. After Morgan had explained the issues, Naylor said that they’d been correct that they had the right to refuse arrest in their home without a warrant. This was apparently based on the “man’s home is his castle” doctrine. “But, if he comes back with a warrant, you’ll have to let him take her away. It’d be a good idea to prepare her for that eventuality.”

“Like how?”

“Well, she could pack a bag or something like that. They may not let her take things into lockup with her, especially on a murder rap, but if they do she’d be way ahead of the game. You should also try to figure out how she might keep up with her schoolwork. Pack her textbooks in the hopes that they’ll let her keep them. Like everything else, you can find advice on-line about what to do and take with you if you’re going to jail.”

“Will we be able to get her out on bail?”

“Juveniles aren’t released on bond. Instead there’s usually some kind of quick preliminary hearing. Then they’re usually released to their parents, or guardian in her case. Um,” Vic hesitated uncomfortably, “if the charges are serious, like murder, they can be held until their trial. And, they’re often tried as adults.”

Damn! Morgan thought, another problem to pile on top of all the others. “Do you have any recommendations as to how I could find her a lawyer in this area?”

“Tilly Arvind, one of my law school classmates, is a defense attorney in Asheville. I haven’t kept up with her, but she was smart and really nice. You could look her up and tell her I sent you…”

When Morgan checked his laptop again, it still hadn’t found any video files from the right time period. He went upstairs, finding all three of the kids in Kiri’s room, looking glum.

He said, “I’d like to do some brainstorming, are you guys up for it?”

Lindl and Kiri looked dubious, but he and Adam had brainstormed problems before, so Adam agreed with some enthusiasm.

The first thing Morgan did was discuss the possibility that Kiri might wind up going to jail briefly until they could get her out under Morgan’s responsibility and/or prove her innocence. He told her what Vic had said about how she might prepare herself for a trip to jail. She nodded, “I’ll read about the law that applies to situations like this too.”

Morgan thought that having a plan for dealing with the issue probably sat better with her than simply sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Next,” Morgan said, “I think a couple of us need to go check on the mine. We need to know if the police are still guarding it.”

Lindl said, “I can do that, but why does it matter?”

“Well, first of all, I’m assuming those guys are hiding somewhere in the mine or the cops would have found them and Chatfield wouldn’t have been blaming Kiri. With the cops gone, they could just walk out of the mine and disappear. That’s why I should go with you; you don’t want to be alone if you run into one of those guys.”

Adam frowned, “Are you thinking that if the cops are gone, we should start guarding the entrance ourselves?”

“No, but we should certainly turn the cameras back on so we’d get a record of them leaving. Do you guys know if the cameras are infrared so they’d be able to see someone at night?”

Kiri nodded, “I’ve seen animals in the dark, but it might be a good idea to have someone go up there after dark while someone else watches the link to make sure everything’s still working.”

“Good idea. Next, how well do you guys know the inside of the mine? Do you know of any places where those guys might be hiding?”

Kiri said, “I don’t know where they might be hiding, I never went very deep into the mine. But I’ve been wondering if one of them might have fallen in a down-shaft. I know about one shaft. It isn’t far down the main tunnel. We had some roped stakes fencing off that shaft, not to physically keep us out, just to warn us of its location. Last night I saw the rope and stakes were knocked down. Maybe one of those guys stumbled through the fence and fell down the shaft.”

“Not both of them?”

She shrugged, “I saw the fence was down when I first went in there. The big guy grabbed me after that.” After a pause, she said, “Since that’s the guy that shot Dad, it wouldn’t break my heart if it turned out he fell down a different shaft. One deeper into the tunnels that I don’t know about.”

“Adam, since you’ve done some rock climbing, you at least have some expertise. Can you look into how we might check out any down-shafts to see if they’ve got dead bodies in them?”

Adam’s eyebrows rose, “I’m not sure rock climbing and going down a mine shaft are all that similar—”

“I’m not asking you to climb down a shaft,” Morgan said patiently. “I’m just thinking you might understand the issues and equipment involved better than the rest of us.”

Adam shrugged, “Sure, I’ll look it up.”

“Next question,” Morgan said. “What do you guys think Daryn was doing up there in the mine? Presumably it’s something that might make a lot of money since it attracted some thugs.”

Lindl glanced at Kiri and she just shrugged.

Morgan just sat quietly looking at them for a couple of minutes. He’d heard somewhere it was considered to be a good interview technique. Supposedly, if you let a silence stretch after a question, people got uncomfortable and just started talking. But neither of them spoke. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the little block of silvery metal. “This was in your dad’s effects. Do either of you know what it is?”

Adam looked curious, Lindl looked baffled and Kiri looked surprised. Adam said, “Can I look at it?”

Morgan handed it to him. Adam’s eyebrows shot up, “Whoa, heavy!”

Morgan kept his eyes on Kiri and her eyes stayed on the piece of metal. Adam was slowly turning it over, scrutinizing every surface. Lindl held his hand out to Adam and Adam handed it to him. Lindl said, “Wow, it really is heavy.” He handed the block of metal to Kiri without being asked. “You think it’s solid silver?”

Morgan said slowly, “It’s too heavy to be silver.”

Adam said, “Could it be white gold? Gold’s supposed to be really dense.”

His eyes still on Lindl and Kiri, Morgan said, “It’s also too heavy to be gold.”

As if he were playing a straight man, Adam said, “Really? What’s heavier than gold?”

Having just learned them, Morgan recited, “Rhenium, platinum, iridium, and osmium.” After a second, he said, “Well, and americium and uranium too, but they’re both radioactive. Doesn’t seem likely that Daryn would’ve been carrying them around in his pocket.”

Quietly, Kiri said, “What is its density?”

Morgan shrugged, “The scale in the pantry isn’t accurate enough to know for sure. I get a figure of twenty-two point five grams per cubic centimeter, but it could be off by as much as a gram per cc.”

“Wow,” Kiri said, almost inaudibly.

Excitedly, Adam said, “Platinum’s worth even more than gold, right?”

“It has been in the past, but it isn’t right now.”

“Dang.” Adam said, sounding disappointed, “If it is platinum, how much would it be worth?”

“Almost $10,000.”

Adam and Lindl both drew their heads back in surprise.

Kiri didn’t look surprised at all. She held the block of metal out to Morgan. As he took it, he said, “I’ve got the feeling you have a pretty good idea where this came from.”

She shrugged, “Sure. I suppose it came from the mine.”

Morgan tilted his head and looked at her curiously. When she wasn’t forthcoming, he finally said, “Kiri, I’m going to try to do my best for you, whether you come clean with me or not. By that I mean that I’ll do my best to love and care for you in the place of my brother, to get you through college, and to support you however you may need it. And, if Detective Chatfield and the rest of the police force keep coming after you, I’m planning to do my best to defend you.” He sighed, “But, it’s pretty concerning to realize you’re keeping secrets from me. If there’s something going on up in the mine I don’t know about; I could end up tripping over my own tongue when I’m trying to talk to the police. Or, when I’m explaining things to your defense attorney.”

He stopped talking, but kept his eyes on her. She looked uncomfortable, but her lips had formed a thin line. She didn’t speak. He narrowed his eyes, “Was your dad doing something illegal? Is that it?”

“No!” Kiri said, looking astonished. “No, he would never—”

Morgan tossed the chunk of metal up in the air. As he caught it, he said, “Then, where did this come from?”

Kiri just looked stubborn. Morgan decided to give it a rest and stood up. He said, “I hope you’ll think about this. It’s going to be hard fighting on your side if I’m fighting blind.” He turned to Lindl, “You ready to go see what’s going on up at the mine?”

Lindl nodded and stood up. He took a step toward the door, but then turned to Kiri and said, “He’s on your side Kiri. I think you should tell him.”

As they left the room, Morgan turned back to Kiri, “it’s dark outside now. Can you turn on the security camera recording and watch to make sure you can see Lindl and me on the cameras when we get up there?”

Kiri frowned, “Are you saying it’s okay to start recording again now?”

“Yeah, the hard drive from the house computer’s completely copied over to that external drive. It’s okay if we start recording on the house computer again. I’d suggest, if you can figure out how, that you set it to save seventy-two hours instead of just twenty-four.”

She nodded, looking thoughtful.

Kiri just sat silently on the bed after Morgan and Lindl left. She was staring out the dark window as if she could see the mine. Adam thought he should try to start a conversation, but didn’t know what to say. Kiri was far different from any girl Adam’d known before. His feelings about her were ambivalent. Well, that isn’t true, he thought. His feelings about her ranged from fascinated to alarmed, but they certainly weren’t ambivalent. He had a hard time keeping his eyes off her. Her startlingly blue eyes, set off by her pale skin and jet black hair were striking. Sometimes he wondered whether she wore colored contacts and dyed her hair, but he’d decided she probably didn’t. When he’d first seen her, she’d seemed so thin he thought she might be anorexic. Now that he’d seen her run and gotten a closer look at her arms he realized she might not have much body fat, but she was in seriously good shape.

Despite the physical attraction, he didn’t like the way she was so standoffish to his dad. Like almost all teenagers, Adam had his own conflicts with his dad, but he’d come to realize that Morgan was a lot better father than most of his friends parents. A way better parent than his mother. He’d seen the effort his dad was putting in to help Lindl and Kiri despite having massive problems of his own. Seeing her treat Morgan badly even though he was working so hard on her behalf irritated him.

Though she’s got some huge problems of her own, he reminded himself. I should cut her some slack. And the stuff she knows! During several conversations Adam had been flabbergasted by how much she knew about various topics. Once, while they’d been sitting on Adam’s bed, listening to Lindl playing one of his transcendental guitar pieces, Adam had snorted and said, “And some people say music’s just math.”

Adam had simply been trying to disparage people who missed the beauty in music, but Kiri took him seriously. She launched into a discussion of the mathematical relationships between the octaves and the ratios between the notes in the twelve-tone scale. The depth of her knowledge astonished him, although he couldn’t follow a lot of the math terminology she used.

When she wound down, he’d said, “I was just trying to say that some people miss the beauty by focusing on the science.”

She’d stared at him for a moment, then said abruptly, “Probably true. I can’t play worth a damn.”

He’d felt embarrassed, but hadn’t known what to say to excuse his faux pas.

Adam heard the back door open and close, telling them that Lindl and Adam’s dad were on their way up the hill to the mine.

Kiri got up to go downstairs, so Adam got up and followed her. He tried to think of something to say, but everything that came to mind sounded inane, especially in the face of the many difficulties she faced. It’s hard to come up with idle chitchat around her.

Sitting down at the computer, she clicked on the icon for the program running the security cameras. A moment later, a window popped open on the screen. It had six smaller sub windows under a toolbar. That seems like a lot of cameras, Adam thought. He’d just started to study the top three when they went blank, one after the other.

They hadn’t seemed to be showing the inside of the mine. He would’ve thought he’d been looking at the inside of some ordinary rooms. Workshops, or something like that, from the equipment inside. The walls had been smooth, not rough like the walls inside the mine. His eyes dropped to the lower three windows. Two of them showed the inside of the mine tunnel. Irregular, rough, dark walls arching over a rough floor with rails running down the middle of it. The third of the lower three windows was showing the mine entrance. When he was up there he hadn’t seen the entrance from the same angle as the camera, but he could still tell what it was. Curious, he asked, “What were we looking at in the upper three windows?”

“Static test images,” Kiri replied, quite unsatisfyingly.

What’s a static test image? Adam wondered, but didn’t press her. He squinted and leaned in closer. One of the windows had a couple of glowing red dots where he thought he remembered seeing what’d looked like cabinets for electronics. There was a faint glow near the dots. I think those red dots are LED status indicators for the equipment.

Kiri clicked on the title bar of the window and dragged it upward, then around the desktop a little. Because of the initial upward movement, Adam had the distinct impression that she’d thought to move it up so that the upper three sub-windows wouldn’t be visible. Since you had to drag it by the title bar at the top of the window, it’d proved impossible to drag it that high. Adam suspected there was a workaround for that problem, but he didn’t think she wanted to spend the time to figure it out with him watching. She really doesn’t want me thinking about or asking more questions about those upper three windows, he thought.

Kiri opened Chrome and typed in a query. “While I’m waiting for those guys to show up on camera, I guess I’ll do a Google search for advice on goin’ to jail.’”

“Good idea,” Adam said, still thinking about what the three upper security camera windows had been showing. I wonder how she turned them off. “Um, I guess I’ll start looking up information on how to climb down mine shafts.”

Kiri nodded but didn’t say anything, apparently focused on what she’d found about jail.

Adam got his laptop. Logging on, he started doing searches for information on caving and exploration of mine tunnels. It turned out that climbing down mine shafts had some similarity to rock-climbing, at least as far as the kinds of the equipment used. However, mine shafts and caves were dark, and frequently wet and slippery. This made them dangerous to climb or descend using hand and toe holds like you did while climbing rocks outside. Those would be holds you could neither see in the dark, nor grip in the wet. Climbing ropes could be quite helpful while descending a steeply inclined tunnel, but in vertical shafts you might wind up suspended in space and completely dependent on your rope.

Mine shafts were often filthy and were known for having sharp rocks that could cut your rope. They were also known for having apparently stout anchors—objects you might tie your rope to—that were actually rotten and could fail at the worst times.

Rappelling down sounded easy but was fraught with danger since you often couldn’t see whether the end of your rope had reached a stable surface. A little bit amusing, but also frightening, was the recommendation that you tie a large knot near the end of your rope. One that was too big to pass through your carabiner so you couldn’t accidentally rappel off the end of your rope in the dark. Also sobering was the recommendation that said large knot be used to form a loop at the end of your rope. Then you could put a foot in the loop while you stood at the literal “end of your rope,” wondering what to do next.

Climbing back up pretty much necessitated the use of “ascenders,” mechanical grips that would slide up the rope, but not down. Adam repeatedly encountered the advice that exploring mines was highly technical and not for amateurs.

Damn, he thought. Not something I want to do unless there’s no other solution.

Suddenly he realized that quite a bit of time had passed. He got up and went back to where Kiri’d been working on the house computer. She was gone. He went to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Did they ever show up on the video?”

“Yeah,” she called back down, “everything’s working fine.”

Adam wanted to go up to hang out with her some more. Instead, he returned to the nook with the house computer. She’d closed down the program that monitored the cameras. He opened it back up.

He could see it was still recording. The upper three windows were still black—except for the little red dots and the faint glow on the one screen. He hunted through the menus without finding anything that suggested the cameras for the upper three images were turned off. He was about to give up when he saw a menu item for “lights” and another one for “infrared.”

He clicked on the infrared icon first. A ghostly monochromatic image appeared. Sure enough, the red dots were on what he still thought was a rack of electronic equipment. And I’ll bet the glow that lets me see the rack comes from infrared heat produced by the electronics behind the faceplate, he thought. He assumed that clicking on the infrared icon lit a ring of infrared lights around the camera lens like he’d seen on security cameras in other locations. When he clicked it and the infrared lights came on, the entire room lit with infrared so the camera could see everything, not just the hot electronics. However, he’d bet that if he was in the room it’d still seem dark except for the status LEDs.

He clicked on the lights icon. Suddenly the images were brightly lit and he could see in color. His previous impression had been correct. It didn’t look like the inside of a tunnel. Rather, the walls were smooth and flat with sharp corners like the inside of a building. It kind of did look like a workshop, though much of the equipment was completely unfamiliar to him.

The back door of the house opened and he heard Lindl and his dad coming in. Adam moused up to shut off the lights and infrared for the upper three cameras, then closed the program. Stepping into the hall, he said, “The police are gone, right? We couldn’t see any of them on the security camera.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said unhappily. “Admittedly, I don’t know much about police procedures, but it seems a little bit early to abandon surveillance of a location where a murderer’s supposed to be hiding.”

Adam said, “Did you think the detective seemed a little freaked out by the whole thing?”

Morgan lifted an eyebrow, “Yes, I did.”

“You think he might have claustrophobia or some other kind of thing that makes him go a little crazy in dark tunnels?”

Morgan snorted, “Or, maybe that’s just the way he always is.”

Lindl said, “I don’t think much of Mr. Detective.”

Morgan sighed, “It’s going to be pretty easy for us to be down on him since he’s decided Kiri’s the guilty party. From his viewpoint, he’s got a locked room murder with a vanished perpetrator. I think the conventional wisdom’s that most murders are carried out by people known to the victim including family members. He’s probably just playing the odds.”

That’s just like dad, Adam thought, quick to see the other guy’s viewpoint. Too quick. He said, “What’s the motive? I’ll concede Kiri had the opportunity. She was, after all, in the mine with him. But you’re supposed to have motive, opportunity and…” He glanced at Lindl and Morgan uncertainly, “Something else, I’ve forgotten what it is.”

Lindl said, “Means. The perpetrator’s supposed to have the ability to carry out the murder too.” Seeing Morgan and Adam looking at him, he shrugged and said, “I’ve watched some cop shows.”

Morgan said, “Okay, does Kiri know how to shoot a gun?”

Lindl nodded. “The detective asked her that and she told him she did.”

Adam said, “So she had opportunity and means. Still, she didn’t have any motive!”

“That we know of,” Morgan said slowly. “Something might have happened that we don’t know about. He glanced at Lindl. “She told me that Daryn, ‘was an amazing dad.’ That didn’t exactly sound like someone with an axe to grind.”

Lindl said, “Yeah, Dad was…” Lindl’s voice broke a little, “He was really good to us.” He blinked a couple of times and a tear ran down his cheek, “It’s hard to even imagine Kiri being mad at him.” He wiped at the tear, “I mean, sure, she was mad because he didn’t pick her up. But no way mad enough to…” He shook his head and turned to go up the stairs. Adam had the feeling he wanted to escape the conversation.

Morgan and Adam stared at one another. Adam said, “There’s no way.”

Morgan nodded slowly, “That’s how I feel too. But really, we barely know her—”

Adam found himself saying fiercely, “I know her. I’ve been talking to her a lot. She’s really smart, and, and— she’s beautiful, and sweet, and I— I know she’s been kind of rude to you, but…”

Morgan tilted his head curiously, “You sound like you’ve got a thing for your cousin?”

“No!” Adam said, a little overemphatically. “But even if I did, she’s not a blood relative.”

“I know that,” Morgan said soothingly. “Does she?”

Adam shrugged, embarrassed that his dad had sussed out his feelings so easily.

“Um,” Morgan said, “maybe you should make sure she does. You wouldn’t want her deciding you were,” he paused as if searching for the right word, then continued, “inappropriately interested.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not going to be interested in me, so it isn’t going to be an issue.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Morgan said, as if simply curious.

“She’s way out of my league,” Adam said, sounding surly even to himself.

Morgan laughed, “You might be surprised. Smart beautiful girls sometimes have a hard time getting dates because they intimidate all the guys.”

Adam snorted, “She’s intimidating all right.”

“And she’s in trouble.” After a few moments passed, Morgan looked up the stairs and said, “And she’s got some secrets she’s keeping from us.”

“Oh, yeah.” Adam glanced up the stairs, then said, “You should come look at the intake from the security cameras.”

A few minutes later Morgan was staring at the images in the upper three windows looking as bemused as Adam felt. “And you didn’t ask her what these were?”

“No. She was actively trying to keep me from seeing them. She even called them static test images, or something like that. As if they weren’t real.”

Slowly, Morgan said, “I guess we don’t know that they are real.”

“Come on. They’re not… generic enough to be some kind of test images.” Adam waved at the screen, “That stuff looks like it’s got a purpose.”

Morgan grinned at him, “It’s got a purpose, huh? How in the world did you come to that conclusion?”

“Um, the middle one looks like a bunch of high-end, really expensive equipment. It doesn’t look like something an advertising flack lined it up just so it’d look pretty, it looks like it’s set up to be used. The left one looks like a lot of tools and supplies, and the right one looks like a machine shop.”

“How can you say that? You don’t even know what some of that stuff is.”

“I know, but…” He looked at Morgan again, “Don’t you get the same feeling?”

Morgan looked at the images again for a little while, then shrugged, “Yeah, I do. But I couldn’t explain it rationally.” Then Morgan looked like a light went off. “Daryn has quite the workshop down in the basement. We should go down and look around to make sure those three cameras aren’t just showing the stuff down there.”

“Really?” Adam said, getting up.

Morgan led Adam down the hall where he opened a door beneath the stairs and showed him stairs going down.

They looked around the basement. Although Adam felt astonished by all the tools and equipment, he felt certain that no camera angle could be achieved down there that would look anything like what they saw on the security cameras upstairs. Besides, there weren’t any security cameras. He turned to his dad, “What was your brother building down here? You know, that he needed all this equipment.”

Morgan said, “Kiri says he made his living as an inventor. When the kids were little he invented toys. I got the impression she thought it was great because—not working 9 to 5—he could be around for her and Lindl. She said that when they got too old for toys, he moved on to inventing stuff for adults, but she didn’t actually tell me what any of his inventions were.”

Adam looked around, “You think maybe there’s a hidden door into rooms where he’s keeping the really exotic equipment we see on the security cameras?”

Morgan’s eyebrows went up, “That’s an interesting idea.” He turned his eyes upward, “Do you think this basement’s full-sized?”

“What’s ‘full-sized’ mean?”

“The same size as the house above it,” Morgan said, looking around as if he were estimating distances. “It’d be pretty unusual for the basement to be bigger than the house above it.”

Adam looked around, “I think it might be? We’d need to take measurements, or at least pace it off.”

“Well,” Morgan said, looking around himself, “let’s do some pacing then. Tomorrow, when it’s daylight, we can try to pace off the outside of the upstairs and get some idea how close they are to the same size.”

Once they had some numbers for the dimensions, they went upstairs to their rooms. It wasn’t very late, and they hadn’t done much in the way of physical activity that day, but Adam felt exhausted. When he opened the door to the room he was sharing with Lindl, his cousin was asleep.

Still wearing his clothes, but asleep.

Chapter Three

Saturday morning

Just after midnight

It’d been quiet for what seemed like forever. Dan slipped his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. The damned thing always made god-awful noises when it powered up, so he put it between his thighs and squeezed them together to try to muffle it.

He could hear it playing its boot up tones, but he thought they were deadened enough that they wouldn’t have been heard more than ten feet away.

He was cold, damp, and terribly uncomfortable, essentially sick of lying on his side in his cramped little pocket off the mine tunnel.

Dan had been standing in the entrance to one of the mine’s side tunnels when he’d first grabbed Djai’s daughter. To his dismay it’d turned out she hadn’t been lying when she said she’d called the police. The cops had started yelling as soon as he’d squeezed off a shot; a shot that was her fault since she’d punched him in the nuts. Unable to believe how badly his little endeavor was turning out, Dan had quickly moved further down the side tunnel. He’d needed a place to hide the weapon and a story that made him sound innocent.

He hadn’t wanted to use the light on his phone because it would’ve acted like a beacon for the cops. Instead, in the dark, he’d used his hands as his eyes. He’d kept his left hand out in front of him to keep himself from running into things. He’d slid his right hand along the wall of the tunnel as a guide, keeping it as high as he could reach because he wanted to find a high recess to hide his weapon. Since he was tall, he figured any ledge he felt would be higher than most people would notice.

He’d also slid his feet along the tunnel floor rather than lifting them in a normal walk. He didn’t like the noise it made, but he really didn’t want to fall into a hole like the one Rob went down.

Dan had gone quite a distance before he felt the ledge. He’d stopped and looked back along the tunnel where he’d come from. He hadn’t seen any lights. He’d listened carefully but hadn’t heard anyone either.

Finally, he’d used the flashlight on his phone to look around, especially up at the shelf. Because the rock was almost black, even as tall as Dan was it’d been hard to see the shelf. Grabbing the lip, he’d jumped up and felt around. It’d been deeper than he could feel. After some hesitation, he’d set his phone up on the ledge, with the light shining upward, then grabbed the ledge with both hands and pulled himself up for a looksee. The space behind the ledge had turned out to be really deep. In fact, when he pulled himself up there—which had been a huge struggle in its own right—he’d found it was a small-diameter tunnel that went back around a little corner. It hadn’t been just a great hiding place for the gun, but a place he could hide himself.

He’d crawled back there and turned off his phone, partly to make sure it stayed silent, but also to be sure it didn’t run down its battery searching for a signal. Then he’d settled down to wait.

The cops had come and gone. Occasionally a light had flashed up into the alcove momentarily, but apparently no one had noticed the depth of the recess. At least, no one had tried to actively check it out.

It would’ve been perfect if it hadn’t been bone-chillingly cold. And if lying on the rough rocky surface hadn’t been incredibly uncomfortable. And, if he hadn’t been so damned hungry.

Also, the unending dark gave him the creeps.

He learned he couldn’t judge the passage of time. He knew that because he’d powered up the phone a couple of times now. The first time had been when he thought he hadn’t heard the police for about twenty-four hours. It’d proven to be two in the morning on Friday. Since this whole mess had started Thursday afternoon, that’d meant he’d only been in the tunnel about twelve hours total at that point. He’d considered trying to sneak out of the mine then, but decided that it’d surely be guarded on the first night.

He’d been glad of that when there’d subsequently been a lot more lights, shouting, and marching about the next day. It’d suggested a much more extensive search of the mine. He hadn’t wanted to turn on the phone and see what time it was, but he thought they’d brought in more people for a more thorough search and it had to have been during the day on Friday.

As many times as they tromped by his hideout, he frankly found it somewhat astonishing that no one noticed it.

When all that’d settled down, he’d gotten out his phone and checked it again. It’d only been seven in the evening on Friday night.

Now, even though he felt like he’d been waiting forever, his phone said it was only twenty minutes after midnight, early on Saturday morning.

He’d been hoping it’d say two in the morning because any guards would be less alert, but he decided he just couldn’t bear to wait any longer. He crawled out of the alcove and over to the edge between the ledge and the tunnel. After waiting a few minutes for any sounds or lights indicating that someone might still be around, he turned on the phone’s flashlight and positioned it where it’d light his descent. He thought, Breaking my leg getting down from here’d probably turn out to be a lot worse than just getting caught.

Getting down off the rough ledge had been thoroughly unpleasant, but not as difficult as climbing up had been. He turned off the light on the phone, put his left hand on the wall and started back toward the entrance. He knew you could get lost in caves and tunnels, but he’d gotten all the way to the spot with the alcove keeping his right hand on the wall. Keeping his left hand on the same wall should take him back where he’d come from. Also, the hole Rob fell into would be on the right going back.

After so long in the dark, he desperately wanted to have light, but he didn’t want to use up any more phone battery and he wanted to see the police long before they saw him. He felt sure the cops’d have their lights on.

After walking for what seemed like forever, lights came on up ahead. For a moment he panicked, thinking he was going to have to go back and try to hide in that horrible little alcove again. Then he remembered that the first part of the tunnel had overhead lights. I’ll bet they turn on by motion detection, he thought.

He stopped and stood silently motionless, listening for any sounds and watching for any flickering in the lights suggesting there might be people out there. Not sensing either of those things, he moved slowly ahead, stopping to listen again.

It was just the lights on the roof of the tunnel.

He paused again, but didn’t see or hear anything. Starting forward again, he thought a little hysterically, I’m heading toward the light! He thought he must be feeling’s as much joy as survivors of near-death experiences described. Despite the urge, he kept himself from breaking into a run.

He stopped to listen again when he was about twenty feet from the door at the entrance. When he was actually at the entrance, he listened again. He didn’t hear anyone either time. Suddenly his blood froze, What if the SOBs locked these doors with that huge damned padlock?! The door and the lock were too heavy to force, though he knew he’d try anyway. Saying a little prayer, he gently leaned on the left door.

He felt a tremendous relief when the door slowly creaked open. The creaking was a whole separate problem though. He stepped to the side, behind the right door, and pulled the gun out of the holster at the small of his back. He stood impatiently waiting for what felt like ten minutes.

Nothing happened, so he leaned forward and peered out the opening. There was nothing to see, but it was pretty dark. He gave it another few minutes, then slowly pushed the door a little farther open. Still, nothing happened. He slipped through the opening when it was barely big enough. He still didn’t see or hear anyone so he started down the hill. It might be dark out here, he thought to himself, but it’s nowhere near as dark as it is inside that damned tunnel!

Dan waited until he’d walked a couple hundred yards north along the highway out in front of Djai’s place before he used his phone to call Argo.

Seven in the morning

Morgan woke at seven, later than he usually did. He still felt tired. The cousins weren’t moving around yet, so he went downstairs and checked what progress his laptop had made searching for the security video files. Yes! he thought. He saw it’d recovered several video files. He looked them over and chose the one that had a time stamp for the correct hours on Thursday afternoon.

Opening the file, he began fast forwarding through it. Suddenly he stopped it, then put it on play. Daryn was in the room in the upper left frame. As he watched Daryn working with some of the equipment Morgan found himself crying again. He saw the Daryn he’d always known, sure of himself, moving quickly and decisively. Morgan had no idea what Daryn was doing, but he just sat there, watching some of the last hours of his brother’s life.

And mourning the years he’d missed. Though the video was silent, Morgan could almost imagine he heard the cussing when Daryn dropped something and had to chase it back underneath one of the work tables.

Daryn looked up rather suddenly. Morgan couldn’t see what he was looking at, but it appeared to be mounted up on the wall near the camera. Oh, Morgan thought, realizing that someone had just come into view in the lower right frame that displayed the video from the camera monitoring the mine entrance. Two someones actually, one much bigger than the other and sporting a bit of a beer gut.

The two men stopped in front of the mine entrance. One knocked on the gate. They waited briefly, then conferred with one another. The big one pulled the gate open and stepped inside.

Morgan realized that Daryn had left the workroom. He must have looked up at a monitor that displayed the video from the security cameras, Morgan thought. He scrolled the video back a way, then watched Daryn react to the video. He was looking as soon as the guy appeared on the external camera. As soon as the big guy pulled open the gate, Daryn left the room.

Shortly after entering the tunnel, the big guy became visible in the distance on the middle of the three lower frames in the video. He walked down the tunnel toward the camera. Immediately after that, Daryn showed up in the left frame, walking away from the camera.

When the big guy passed the camera for the middle frame, Morgan realized he could see him in the distance on the left frame. Both cameras must be mounted on the roof of the tunnel and facing toward the entrance, one much deeper in the mine than the other. The big guy stopped, apparently waiting for Daryn to approach him. Daryn kept walking toward him. Crap, Morgan thought, they’re going to be so far from the camera they’ll be tiny. Morgan leaned forward to watch from a little closer, thinking he’d zoom it later. Daryn stopped just in front of the man and it looked like they were talking. Daryn pointed toward the entrance as if he were telling the man to go.

Suddenly, the big guy grabbed Daryn. Moments later, he had Daryn’s arm twisted up behind him and was forcing Daryn up onto his toes.

The little guy who’d been standing outside the entrance pulled open the door and leaned in. Then he entered the tunnel and began walking towards Daryn and the big guy.

After what looked like a brief conversation, the three men started walking deeper in the mine. They came toward the camera that was deepest into the tunnel. As they approached, Morgan could see his brother looked tense and unhappy. Morgan felt tense as well, full of a desire to stop what was happening on the screen, even though all logic told him that nothing could be done. It’s like watching a horror movie, he thought. The three men walked past the camera and were gone.

Morgan watched the screen for a couple of minutes, then put it on 8X fast-forward. Neither Daryn, nor either of the two hoodlums reappeared.

Morgan was just getting ready to call up the next video file when he heard someone coming down the stairs. He turned off the video and stood. When Adam entered the hallway, he said, “I was thinking of making some breakfast burritos. You interested?”

“Sure,” Adam said, patting his stomach. He grinned, “you think you’ll be able to make enough to feed Lindl?”

Morgan snorted and started toward the kitchen, “Maybe. Is he up?”

Adam nodded, “You want me to see if he’s a breakfast burrito aficionado?”

“Yeah, and see if you can tell whether Kiri’s up. Then come back down so we can talk for a moment.”

Adam turned and disappeared up the stairs.

Morgan went to the refrigerator and started getting out eggs, chorizo, cheese, and tortillas. He’d started heating the pan when Adam came back in and asked, “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking about how there’s another week or two of school after Tuesday?”

Adam frowned, “Tuesday?”

“Yeah, Monday’s Memorial Day, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I think there’s eight more days of school after Memorial Day.” He frowned, obviously recognizing the problem. “What’re you thinking?”

“I imagine that Lindl and Kiri have some school left here too. Obviously, I can’t stay here with them and be down there with you at the same time.” Morgan grimaced, “You think you can stay with your mom for those last eight days? I don’t think I should leave these guys here by themselves. The situation here’s pretty unsettled.”

Adam said, “Let me call Jerry. I’m pretty sure his folks’ll let me stay with them when they find out all that’s happened.”

“You don’t think your mom’s going to be pretty upset when she finds out you stayed with a friend rather than staying with her?”

“First of all, I’m sure she doesn’t really want me staying with her. It’d cramp her style. Second, I don’t know why she’d ever find out.”

Morgan shrugged, “Okay.”

Lindl came into the kitchen, asking, “What’s okay?” Today’s T-shirt had a picture of a melted looking guitar with a drooping neck. The inscription said “…can bend them guitar strings…”

Amused by the T-shirt, Morgan said, “We’ve just been trying to work out how to get Adam back down to Chapel Hill so he can finish the school year.”

Looking concerned, Lindl said, “Oh.”

“I don’t want to leave you and Kiri here by yourself, but—”

Sounding uncomfortable, Lindl interjected, “Especially the way that detective’s been acting.”

Morgan nodded, “Yeah, though there’s some good news on that front. The data recovery program found the video files last ni—”

“Really?” Lindl interrupted excitedly. “They show the two guys?”

Morgan nodded and Lindl pumped both fists and sank slowly to his knees, a look of joy on his face. Morgan thought his extreme relief might’ve come from a slight concern that he might not have known his sister or her relationship to their dad as well as he’d thought.

Morgan himself had certainly worried that, even if the detective was an asshole, he might be right.

Before he could say anything, Lindl leapt to his feet and bounded up the stairs saying, “That’s the first good news in days. I’ve got to tell Kiri.”

Morgan turned to look at Adam who was grinning widely. “You think I should have woken her up to give her the good news? I know how people your age love to sleep.”

Adam shrugged, still looking happy. “If you cared about your son, you would’ve let him give her the news.”

Morgan snorted, “Chop up the chorizo, would you?” Deciding the chorizo looked dry, he stepped into the pantry to get some oil for the pan.

Lindl came back down the stairs. When he came into the kitchen, Morgan said, “Was she happy to have you wake her up?”

“Not at first.” He grinned, “But she’s okay with it now.”

“You think she’d like a breakfast burrito?”

“I’ll go ask,” Lindl said, turning for the stairs again.

When he returned, he said, “She’s going to grace us with her presence.” He looked over at Adam cutting up the chorizo and said, “Can I help?”

Feeling unreasonably pleased to have Lindl volunteering to help, Morgan said, “Get out a tortilla for each of the rest of us. And as many more as you’ll need. Stack them on a plate and put it in the microwave so we’re ready to heat them when the filling’s ready. Oh, and find some salsa.”

Kiri came in and sat at the breakfast bar. The only clothing item Morgan could see was her shirt, which was, of course, black.

She looked like her spirits had been lifted as well. She said, “Tha’s what I like. Three men in the kitchen, makin’ my breakfast.”

Morgan had been going to ask her about the rooms visible in the upper three frames of the security camera grid. And just what her dad had been doing in the first room. He decided he didn’t want to ruin everyone’s happy mood.

Kiri only ate half her burrito, but she put the rest in a baggie and said she’d eat it when she got back from her run. As she turned the corner for the back door, Morgan saw she was wearing the same black tights she’d had on the day before. The ones with the neon pink stripes down their sides.

As he wondered what to do next, Morgan thought through all the pending issues. Though Daryn’s death still hung like a pall over his mood—and over everyone else’s—Morgan realized that he felt better about a lot of things. They had evidence exonerating Kiri from the detective’s suspicions. The fact that Arlette was acting like such a bitch and that Adam didn’t like her made him feel better about getting a divorce. He felt like they had good evidence that the big three had run a swindle on the rest of the people at Matilda and he thought the courts would likely straighten things out. The financial situation for Daryn’s estate was marginal at present, but once they sold Daryn’s oversized property, that’d be a lot better too.

He’d been thinking about it. He liked Asheville but he thought, once they’d sold the property, it’d make the most sense for them to move to Chapel Hill or Durham this summer. That way Adam could continue in the school he was in. Unfortunately, Lindl and Kiri would have to transfer. He knew high school kids didn’t like to move schools and lose their friends, but Morgan would be closer to his business connections and better able to deal with whatever happened with Matilda. Also, it’d simplify any arrangements with Arlette if she insisted on sharing custody of Adam and the court granted it.

Morgan leaned back in his chair and stretched. Working things out had unknotted a lot of tension he hadn’t even realized he was feeling. He looked out the window, thinking that one downside of selling the place was the fact that he’d miss the view of the valley.

Two cars turned into the driveway. One was a police car.

Morgan’s initial reaction was, Crap! Then he reminded himself that he’d already solved this issue. He had the video showing those guys in the mine. He got up and went to the door. Just as well be polite and meet them, he thought.

Morgan opened the door before the detective rang the doorbell. “Hello Detective. We found that video. If you’ll just give me a minute, I’ll download it onto a jump drive for you.”

Chatfield rolled his eyes and held out some papers, “Here’s your damned warrant. Get the girl.”

“But, we’ve got the—”

“I don’t care what you’ve got, we’re taking her in. If you think you have evidence, submit it to the DA. But I’d like to point out that proving some other guys were in the mine doesn’t mean she’s innocent. That’s not proof that the girl didn’t kill her dad,” Chatfield shook the papers again and lifted an eyebrow, “Unless your video shows those guys actually shooting Mr. Djai?”

Morgan blinked, then shook his head. I should have damned the expense and called that defense attorney. To Chatfield, he said, “Don’t you even want to look at the video?”

In a singsong nasal tone, Chatfield said, “Don’t you even want to look at the warrant?” He shook it again, “Get the girl.”

Morgan said, “I can’t. She went for a run. I could show you the video while we’re waiting for her to get back.”

“I told you not to let her go anywhere!” Chatfield said angrily.

Morgan spoke calmly, “She’s just getting some exercise, not ‘going anywhere.’ If you don’t want to look at the evidence, I guess I’ll look at the warrant.” He plucked it out on the man’s hand.

Morgan was standing in the doorway, carefully reading the warrant word by word, when Adam spoke quietly from beside him. “I’ve got the bag Kiri packed. In case she has to go.”

Morgan nodded and kept reading the warrant, not that he expected to find anything wrong with it. He looked up at the detective, “Can I have someone make you a jump drive with the video files? Or is it important that I take them to the DA myself?”

The detective had his back to Morgan. He spoke back over his shoulder, “Take ‘em yourself.” Suddenly he stepped down off the porch and headed off to the left, shouting at the uniformed policemen who’d come in the marked police car.

Morgan looked that direction and saw Kiri running back up the trail toward the house. The detective and the two policemen looked like they were moving to block her path. Crap, he thought. “Adam, have you got Kiri’s bag? Let’s see if we can get it to her.”

Adam came out of the house carrying a backpack. They walked after the policeman. When Kiri saw the three men, she slowed, then stopped, staring uncertainly at the policemen.

In an ugly tone, Chatfield said, “You’re under arrest.”

Kiri looked past Chatfield to Morgan, confusion in her eyes. Morgan said, “I tried to show him the video, but he’s set on arresting you anyway. I’m going to have to take the video to the DA.” He held up the papers, “He did bring a warrant this time.”

“Yeah,” Chatfield threw back over his shoulder, “but since she’s outside the house I don’t even need it.”

Kiri’s shoulders sagged, but she took a few steps forward to one of the policemen. Pointedly not toward the detective. The cop said gently, “Let’s have your wrists.”

Kiri held out her wrists and the policeman put handcuffs on her. He read her Miranda rights, then took her by the elbow and moved her towards the marked car. Morgan walked up to the other uniformed policeman and said, “She packed a bag with some things she thought they might let her have?”

The policeman looked at the bag like he didn’t want to touch it. He shook his head, “I don’t know what she can and can’t have.”

“That’s okay, we can come by later and pick up anything she’s not allowed to have. Do you know where she’s going to be?”

Once Kiri had been guided into the back seat of the car, the policeman reluctantly took the backpack and put it in the trunk. He told Morgan where he could find Kiri once she’d been processed, but recommended he give it a few hours.

When Morgan turned around, Adam and Lindl were a short distance behind him. They looked agonized. Feeling defeated, Morgan shook his head and said, “I should’ve called that defense attorney. I just didn’t think it was going to come to this.” And now it’s Saturday, he thought. I wonder if there’s any way I’ll be able to reach her.

Adam said, “Let’s hurry.”

Morgan blinked, “Hurry where?”

“To wherever they’re going to hold Kiri. Maybe they’ll let us talk to her.”

Morgan shook his head, “The policeman who took her bag said it’d be several hours. They’ve got to in-process her.”

“We should be there waiting. The moment they’ll let her talk to anyone, we should be there to show support.”

Morgan glanced at Lindl and saw him giving Adam a curious look. He turned back to Adam and said, “If I were Kiri, I’d hope we were out here working on getting her free, not cooling our heels outside her jail cell, just to prove we care.”

Adam took a breath as if he were about to protest angrily. But then he stopped, let it out slowly, and said, “What can we do?”

“Try to reach that defense attorney Vic Naylor recommended. Make copies of the video documenting the presence of those guys in the mine Friday afternoon. Annotate the video so that people watching it can quickly find the sections that show the guys entering the mine and grabbing Daryn—”

Lindl’s eyes widened, “They grabbed him? You didn’t tell us that!”

Morgan sighed, “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t want to get you more upset.” He shook his head in sudden irritation, “I should’ve told the detective the guys grabbed Daryn too.” He looked at Lindl, “I’m not sure you should watch it.”

Lindl glanced away, then turned back, “I think I should. Better the monster you know than the one you imagine.”

Morgan eyed Lindl for a moment, then nodded, “If you’re going to watch it, do you think you can do the annotation too? We should note when those guys are first and last seen. We also need to watch the rest of the videos later into the day, noting when Kiri gets there, when the police arrive, when the ambulance people come and go, etcetera. We should watch the record for that entire night and the next day. On the next day we’ll want to note when the police come and go. Especially, we should be watching for the two goons since we need to know if they’ve left the mine. Essentially, we need to watch every scrap of video we’ve got.” He thought for another moment, “And, if they haven’t left, we’ve got to make sure we’re still recording everything that might happen up there in the future.”

“Okay,” Lindl said, turning and heading for the nook with the computer.

Adam said, “You’re going to call the defense attorney?”

Morgan took a deep breath, “If I can. Remember, it’s the weekend. There might not be any way to reach her.”

“If not, you’ll just call somebody else, right?” Adam said, as if he were worried that Morgan might not have thought of that possibility.

Morgan shrugged, “Maybe? Maybe I’ll see if I can ask Vic about it. I’m a little worried that a lawyer who’s taking cold calls for cases on holiday weekends might be young, inexperienced, and digging for business.”

Adam said, “Okay. What should I be doing?”

Morgan glanced over toward the nook with the computer in it and spoke quietly so Lindl wouldn’t hear. “One of the things I’d really like to do is get a better handle on why those guys might have attacked Daryn in the first place. We’ve said that Kiri didn’t have a motive, but we don’t know what their motive might have been either.” He shrugged, “The video shows they were in the mine, so they had opportunity…” Morgan paused, transfixed, “I’ve got to ask Lindl to watch the video with an eye to seeing if one of those guys had a weapon—so we can confirm they had the means.” He looked back at Adam, “But we need to establish that they had a motive.”

Adam frowned, “How am I going to find a motive?”

“I think it must have something to do with that chunk of metal. If it’s really worth more than $10,000, and if Daryn had more than just the one, that could be the motive.”

“And… You’re thinking I can do what, exactly?”

“Figure out how we tell for sure what it is. I’ve already ordered a more accurate digital scale from Amazon. When it comes in we can determine the density with better accuracy. If it’s a pure sample of something, that’d tell us what it is. However, if it’s a mixture of something with a higher density and something with a lower density, we wouldn’t be able to tell. I’m hoping you can find a lab that can do an assay or something to tell us for sure.”

“Okaay,” Adam said stretching the word, obviously uncertain.

“I know you don’t know how to do it, neither do I. But see if you can figure it out.”

“That reminds me,” Adam said, “you asked me to find out how to climb down that mineshaft and see if there was someone in it.”

Morgan nodded, “What’d you learn?”

Adam explained it in some detail, finishing up with, “Everything pretty much says it’s a job for experienced professionals. Do you want me to try to find someone who can do that kind of stuff?”

“If you can find time,” Morgan said, feeling like they were making some headway.

Morgan talked to Lindl about watching for a weapon, then looked up Tilly Arvind. She had a website. Scanning over it, Morgan got the feeling that, though she defended anyone, she specialized in defending women. Morgan wondered about the business model because it was his impression that most offenders were male. Her website’s slant toward women seemed like it could cause her to lose out on the biggest share of the business. Of course, my understanding of this business is pretty limited, he thought.

The website gave a phone number “for emergencies” and he called it. An automated service connected him to a line where he could leave a message. It promised someone would return his call as soon as possible. Glumly he thought that probably meant Tuesday morning.

Feeling a little depressed about his failure to engage her on Friday, he started looking at websites for other defense attorneys. There were quite a few but he was having trouble telling whether any of them were available on the weekend. He was about to dial Vic again when his phone rang. He answered, “Hello?”

“Hello, this’s Tilly Arvind returning a call from Morgan Djai?”

The breath exploded out of Morgan, “Yes. Yes, this’s Morgan Djai. Thank you so much for taking my call on the weekend.”

“How can I help? My friend, Vic Naylor, said you might call. He told me your niece might be arrested?”

Morgan felt a sudden burst of gratitude towards Vic. “Yes, Detective Chatfield and a couple of uniformed policemen just arrested her about twenty minutes ago. Would you be able to help us?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Arvind said in a reassuring tone. “Of course, the outcome will depend to some extent on the nature of the offense. Can you tell me what she’s purported to have done?”

“Kiri’s a victim…” Morgan began, somewhat heatedly. Then realized that Kiri would probably be better served by a dispassionate description of the facts. He took a breath, then proceeded to lay out his knowledge of the events as logically as he could.

When Morgan ran down, Arvind asked some perceptive clarifying questions. She sighed, “Well, our detective Chatfield’s known for his quick appraisal of the facts and his decisive responses to them. However, this wouldn’t be the first time one of his snap judgments turned out to be wrong.”

“So, what should we be doing? He told me I should turn the video evidence over to the district attorney, but I don’t even know how to go about doing that.”

“Why don’t we meet down at,” she paused, “do you know where they’re keeping her? The Juvenile Assessment Center I assume?”

“That’s what the policemen told me. We’re planning to go down there to visit her. We’d like to offer our emotional support if they’ll let us.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there in about an hour. Bring the video recording and any other evidence you might have to support her claim of innocence.”

Morgan went in to check on Lindl. His nephew was copying the video files onto four jump drives, one for the DA, one for Tilly Arvind, a spare, and, he said, “One for us to hide somewhere around here as a safety back up.” It sounded to Morgan as if Lindl thought someone might break into the house and steal or damage the computer, but Morgan didn’t ask him exactly what he was worried about. Lindl also had a document in which he’d annotated the exact times of the arrival of the two men and the capture of his father. He’d also noted the coming and goings of his sister, the ambulance crew, and the police. He looked up at Morgan with red rimmed eyes, “I’ve been skimming through it at 16X but I’m confident I haven’t missed anything. All I have left to go through’s the video from last night. It shouldn’t take much longer.” His voice sounded rough.

Morgan put a hand on his shoulder and said, “It’s been pretty bad to watch, huh?”

Lindl nodded, “But I’m glad I did. Now I know who to hate.”

Morgan wanted to say something about not giving in to hate, but decided not to. He told Lindl about the impending trip to visit Kiri. They decided they shouldn’t leave until Lindl had finished watching the video from last night. They wanted to have all the annotations and the video with them.

Morgan went upstairs to see how Adam was coming along.

Adam said that he’d found places that did assays on precious metals, but they were all closed on the weekends so he hadn’t been able to find out what kind of specimen he’d need to send to them or how long it’d take to get an answer. Nor, how much it’d cost.

Adam also told Morgan he’d found a website for a guy in Virginia who taught caving. The guy’s website mentioned that he’d gone down in a few mines as well. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be contacted on the weekend either.

Morgan said, “I got ahold of Tilly Arvind. We’re going to go visit Kiri in a little bit. I’m assuming you’d like to come along?”

Adam nodded eagerly.

“I’m going to change my clothes. I have the feeling that we’ll get a lot more respect at the jail if we’re dressed nicely. I can’t find much about visiting, but what I do find suggests that parents and guardians can visit but that others require approval. You might want to shave and change your clothes in hopes that if you look sharp they’ll approve you too.”

“I don’t have a suit or anything,” Adam said, looking a little bit distressed.

“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking a suit, but not shorts and a T-shirt either. Just, the nicest of whatever you brought.”

“Should we stop somewhere so I can buy a button-down shirt and some dress pants?”

Morgan restrained a smile at the transparency of Adam’s desire to see Kiri. He said, “We’ll see if we have time. I don’t want to be late to meet the attorney.”

When Morgan went downstairs, Lindl looked up angrily, “That big bastard left the mine last night.”

Morgan’s first thought was, If the cops had at least kept a guard on the mine, they’d have him. Then he wondered whether he should’ve guarded the mine entrance himself. He decided that, in view of the way the big guy’d manhandled Daryn, it’d have been crazy to try to capture him. To Lindl, he said, “What about the smaller guy?”

Lindl shook his head, “I guess he’s still in there. Probably down the shaft like Kiri thought.”

***

Kiri was in the Buncombe County Juvenile Crisis and Assessment Center. It was a small facility, only intended to hold juveniles until their day in court. The lady guard who’d checked her in had been polite and thoughtful, not some kind of monster like you might expect from seeing jailers on TV.

Nonetheless, the lady said she wasn’t allowed access to any of the stuff she’d packed in her backpack. Apparently, she might be allowed access to it at some point, but it wouldn’t happen right away.

Kiri was bored.

When she didn’t have something to occupy her thoughts, they kept turning to her feelings of guilt. She kept thinking about how, if she hadn’t run into the mine against the 9-1-1 operator’s advice, her dad’d still be alive. Or, if she hadn’t hit that guy in the balls, making him jerk the trigger.

Logically, she told herself that she couldn’t be sure something bad wouldn’t have happened to her dad even if she hadn’t gone in there. Also, that her dad getting shot at such a distance with a handgun that wasn’t really aimed at him had to be a bizarre fluke.

Logic, unfortunately, didn’t make her feel any better.

In an effort to get her mind out of its unproductive rut, she started thinking about her Uncle Morgan. When Kiri’d been younger, she’d realized that most of her classmates had extended families. When she’d gone to a friend’s birthday party that’d been populated with large numbers of cousins, Kiri’d come home and asked her dad why she hadn’t ever met any of her own relatives.

He told her that her mom had been an only child whose mother had died and whose father was distant. On his side of the family, her grandmother and grandfather had both died in a car wreck. They’d only had two children, himself, and her Uncle Morgan.

She’d been shocked. “I have an Uncle Morgan?” she’d asked excitedly.

He’d nodded slowly. At the time, she hadn’t recognized his reluctance.

Realizing that her uncle’s kids would be cousins to her, she’d excitedly asked how many cousins she had. Her dad had said slowly, “I don’t know…”

Astonished by this admission, Kiri had pestered him with questions about why he didn’t know and why they didn’t call to find out right that moment. She’d proclaimed her desire to go visit her uncle and whatever cousins he might provide.

Over time, the tale of the estrangement of her father and his brother had been filled in a little, though reluctantly. She’d gradually built up an internal picture of her uncle as a horrible person. As she thought back on it now, she realized her dislike of her uncle couldn’t be based on much in the way of facts—her dad simply hadn’t provided much information.

So why do I keep thinking the worst of Uncle Morgan? she wondered. And treating him like crap. She’d resolved on several occasions now to give him a chance, but kept finding herself interpreting everything he said in the worst possible light.

One problem with her image of her uncle was the way she’d always pictured him as such a bastard. A dashing bastard. Someone who lived a large life of adventure. Someone who’d pissed off her dad because of his reckless joi de vivre. Someone exciting, even though unsavory. Learning that he was an unemployed software developer had been a huge disappointment. She could have respected the kind of person who made software sing. But since programmers were always in demand; if he hadn’t been able to get a job after he got laid off, she didn’t think he could be much good.

Although, he did say that he’d rescued the videos that were supposed to have been deleted. She thought for another moment, But I haven’t seen them to know he really succeeded. Apparently, whatever he recovered wasn’t good enough to convince the detective. Also, she wasn’t sure that knowing deleted files could be rescued and therefore downloading software that would do it was all that impressive.

Still, she thought, he’s my uncle and he seems to be trying to do his best for us. I’ve got to stop sniping at him.

Having resolved that issue, she began thinking about how to prove her innocence. Unfortunately, she found her mind kept turning back to her own mistakes. The ones that had led to her father’s death.

Her guilt.

I’ve got to get my mind out of this rut! she thought, forcefully instead, turning her thoughts to the de Broglie-Bohm theory. The equations governing the theory were complex and, holding them in her head, not on a computer, while trying to consider their ramifications, was difficult enough to keep her brain from taking off on tangents. The theory’s got to be important for something else besides transmutation…

There was a knock on her door. Kiri said, “Yes?”

She heard the voice of the guard who’d processed her in, “You’ve got visitors.”

“Who?” she asked, dreading the possibility that it was Detective Chatfield coming by to ask more questions.

“Your attorney and your guardian.”

Since she didn’t have an attorney and thought of Morgan as her uncle, not her guardian, Kiri almost said, “Who?” She remembered in time that Morgan was her guardian and might’ve hired an attorney. “Okay,” she said, “are they coming here, or do I go wherever they are?”

“I’m supposed to take you to meet them in the conference room.” The guard paused for a second, then continued, “I don’t have to ask your permission to open your door, but unless there’s a reason not to, I think it’s only polite. May I open your door?”

“Sure,” Kiri said, her thoughts brightening at the thought of getting out of the little room she was being held in. It was much nicer than the prototypical jail cell. Nonetheless, it was lonely and boring. By the time she’d gotten up and walked to the door, the guard was pulling it open.

Kiri was led to a room with a table big enough to seat ten people, but only her uncle and a striking, dark-haired, olive skinned woman in a navy-blue suit were present. She said, “Um, did Lindl and…?” then ran down as she decided it sounded childish to be worrying about whether her brother and her cousin had come to visit her.

Uncle Morgan didn’t seem to notice her abortive query. He said “Hi Kiri. I’m really sorry you’re stuck in here. We’re going to do everything we can to get you out as soon as possible.” He waved to the lady, “This’s Tilly Arvind, the defense attorney Vic Naylor recommended to us. She’s been kind enough to come in on the weekend…” he glanced at Arvind, “which we really appreciate.”

Arvind’s perfect hair, crisp clothing, and subtle, yet elegant makeup suggested she spent a lot of time on her appearance. Kiri was embarrassed to find herself worrying that a woman like that might not be good at her job. Men are supposed to think stupid things like that, she told herself. She said, “Hi Ms. Arvind. I do appreciate you coming in on the weekend. Do you think you’ll be able to get me out of here?”

“Well, I don’t know all that much about your case yet. Your uncle’s laid out his understanding of the events for me. It’s really important I hear your own recollections of what happened though. Then I think we should all watch the security camera videos together.”

“You haven’t seen them yet?” Kiri immediately regretted the question for its implication that Arvind hadn’t been diligent.

Morgan said, “Lindl just got the video files all annotated and copied before we left the house. Even I haven’t seen most of them. We wanted to get down here to you as soon as we could so you wouldn’t feel… deserted.”

“Don’t worry,” Arvind said, “the time limit on this visit’s three hours, so we should have plenty of time to watch the videos with you. I think getting any input you can give us on the videos’ll be helpful.”

With Arvind recording audio, Kiri went through everything that’d happened on Thursday and her encounters with Detective Chatfield on Friday. She actually went through it all twice, the second time Arvind asked her a lot of questions to clarify what she was saying.

“So,” Arvind said, “if I put myself in the place of the detective. I’ve got a story about a shooting in which the participants we’re sure of were a father and his daughter. The daughter claims some mysterious other man or men carried out the shooting. The detective carries out an extensive and thorough search of the mine without finding anyone. He then concludes that those two men were imaginary. Is that how you guys think his reasoning went?”

Kiri felt betrayed by the way Arvind had seen the detective’s viewpoint as reasonable. Morgan however, just nodded. Kiri found herself saying, “Okay, but that summary ignores the fact that Chatfield’s such a jerk.”

Arvind looked like she was trying to keep a straight face, but she finally broke into a little grin. “It might be that there are some other people who think that.” She shook her head, “He’s also got a reputation for making quick decisions. Some people think too quick. But,” she shrugged her shoulders, “those quick decisions prove to be correct in a great majority of the situations, so the DA isn’t too critical of him when he makes another one of his impetuous judgments.” She leaned back, tapping a fingernail on the table thoughtfully for a few moments. She said, “Shall we watch the video?”

Back on Friday, when she’d been trying to find her dad, Kiri’d watched the video of the big man grabbing her dad and twisting his arm. However, at that time she’d immediately gone into rescue mode without contemplating the event emotionally. This time, watching her dad being forced down the tunnel—where she knew he’d eventually die—was far more distressing.

Arvind said she’d watch the rest of the video herself to be sure nothing had been missed, but for now she skipped ahead to where the annotations indicated that Kiri’d entered the tunnel. They watched as Kiri traversed the same camera-covered segment of the tunnel that her dad and the men had passed through. Arvind asked questions about what was going through Kiri’s mind at the time and Kiri confessed that she’d fully expected to be able to do something to help her dad. “I was… way too cocky,” she said, feeling both embarrassment and remorse.

Next Arvind skipped forward to where the police entered, which didn’t seem to contribute much to the story. They skipped the video ahead to when the paramedics arrived with their stretcher. That also didn’t provide much additional clarity.

Kiri had to watch herself being led out of the mine. She also caught a brief glimpse of the stretcher being carried out of the mine with the shrouded shape of her father on it. To Kiri’s relief, as soon as Arvind recognized what she was seeing, she skipped quickly past it.

Next Arvind skipped ahead to the segment showing the big man leaving the mine. The man slowed as he arrived at the big doors over in the mine entrance. He stopped at the door and seemed to be listening for a minute or so. Then he pushed one of the doors open a little. He looked startled and quickly pulled a gun out of a small-of-the-back holster.

Morgan said, “Gun!”

Arvind looked up at him, “Yes.” She frowned, “You seem to be attributing particular significance to the gun?”

Morgan looked a little embarrassed. “We were playing amateur detective. Talking about the old ‘means, motive, and opportunity.’ The video shows this guy was present in the mine, so he had opportunity. Now we know he also had a gun, so he had means.”

Arvind nodded slowly, “What about motive?”

Morgan shrugged, “I don’t know.” He glanced briefly at Kiri, “Maybe they think Morgan found some precious metals?”

Arvind fixed Morgan with a steady gaze, “Are we sure he didn’t?”

Morgan looked at Kiri questioningly, so Arvind did as well. Kiri said, “He found tiny bits of gold. You can pan as much gold out of the French Broad River. We hoped we’d find more,” she shook her head, “but we never did.”

Morgan looked like he might be about to say something about the big chunk of metal her dad had in his pocket when he died, but he subsided. Instead, while looking into Kiri’s eyes, he said, “When I knew him, which admittedly was a long time ago, he could be pretty abrasive. Maybe the motive was that he somehow pissed off the big guy?”

Kiri realized that Arvind was looking at her questioningly as if for confirmation of this possibility. She shrugged, “Yeah.” She grimaced, “He had a way of making it evident just how stupid he thought some people were. Um, compared to him, most people were. Most of the time he didn’t make a big deal of it. But sometimes…”

Nobody said anything, so Arvind started the video again and they watched the man leave the mine. Arvind tapped on the video time display, “This occurred after midnight on Friday, or what would actually have been the wee hours of the morning on Saturday.” Arvind turned to Morgan, “You told Detective Chatfield you had video of the man leaving?”

Morgan shook his head, “No, when Chatfield came to arrest Kiri, we hadn’t reviewed this part of the video. But we did tell him we had video of the two men entering the mine.”

Arvind pursed her lips, “That’s pretty disappointing…” She sat silently for a minute or two, evidently thinking about options. “Okay,” she said, “I’m going to call the DA and the Chief of Police.” She looked at Kiri, “I’ll tell them that Detective Chatfield’s locked you up while you’re in the depths of the mourning of your father’s death. I’ll also tell them that he did this despite the availability of video evidence proving your story that a couple of men had attacked your father immediately prior to his death. Finally, I’ll tell them that we have video that shows the man leaving the mine in the middle of the night, with a gun.” She lifted an eyebrow, “I’ll be suggesting that if this video makes it into the public eye it’ll be a major embarrassment for the department.” She paused, “Do you have another copy to give the chief?”

Morgan reached in his pocket and pulled out another jump drive. “We made a spare in case there was some other need.”

Arvind said, “We’ve got to recognize that this tactic will put them on the defensive. I’d very much prefer not to have them angry at us, so I’ll be phrasing everything as politely as possible. I want you to understand this, so you’re not tempted to be rude to them yourselves. We’ll get a lot better service from them if they perceive us as friendly.”

A little irritated, Kiri said bitterly, “The only service we need is for them to let me out of this place.” Arvind eyed her expectantly. “Oh!” Kiri said, a little self-consciously, “And we need them to catch that guy.”

Arvind tilted her head and gave Kiri a questioning look, “What about the second guy?”

Kiri winced a little, “I’m pretty sure he fell down a vertical shaft deeper in the mine shaft.” She explained about the shaft and the surrounding stakes and ropes that’d been knocked down. “If he hadn’t fallen down the shaft or had something else bad happened to him, he would’ve come out with the big guy.”

“Ah,” Arvind said, “I also need to remind the police that the second guy must still be in the mine. And, that he might need rescue.” She stood up, “And, with that, I think I’ll be on my way. Unless I’ve badly misunderstood the situation, I think we’ll have you out of here before the end of the weekend,” she glanced at Morgan, “Thus putting an end to your need for a defense attorney, though I’ll still be happy to help in any way I can. I’ll get started on it right away.” Part way out the door, she turned and said, “I’ll send in one of the boys if they’ve been approved for a visit.”

Kiri’s heart leapt at this evidence that Lindl and Adam had come too. She turned to Morgan and said, “I want to tell you how much I appreciate your help. Despite my good intentions, it seems like I keep barking at you.”

He shrugged, “I understand. You’ve got ninety-nine problems.”

She stared at him for a moment, wondering whether he was really referencing… Then she grinned, nodded, and said, “You’ve got ninety-nine problems too. And,” she pointed at herself, “this bitch shouldn’t be one of them.”

He grinned back and nodded. Then the door opened and the guard lady brought Lindl in. Kiri jumped to her feet and Lindl immediately threw his arms around her. Leaning his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “I know you say you don’t like them, but I need a hug.”

Kiri suddenly found a little frog in her throat. She swallowed, reached around him and squeezed, then leaned back, “Yeah, I guess I could use a hug too.”

When Lindl let go, she and her uncle explained what Ms. Arvind had said and he looked relieved. They talked a little longer, then he stood, “Our time’s nearly up and Adam really wanted to talk to you too. Is it okay if I send him in?”

Kiri nodded. She really liked Adam.

Too bad he was her cousin…

When Adam came in, she felt surprised to realize she was disappointed he didn’t give her a hug. Presumably because he remembered her saying, “I don’t hug,” when they first met. She decided that even though she didn’t like to hug, especially casual acquaintances, when she felt the way she did today she would’ve made an exception for her cousin…

***

Morgan and the boys stopped at Burger King for lunch since it was nearly 2 o’clock when they left the juvenile center. Lindl said he was starving and promptly ate two double-deckers and a large order of fries.

They arrived back at the house to find a couple of Amazon packages sitting on the porch. Morgan eyed them curiously as he walked up. “I ordered a digital scale yesterday, but didn’t think it’d arrive yet. Besides, I only ordered one thing.” He looked at Lindl, “Did you order anything?”

“No,” he said. Then he got a sad look, “But my dad might’ve, before…”

“Oh, yeah.” Still a little nervous about having packages show up that he wasn’t sure of—when there were men out there who’d attacked and killed his brother—Morgan leaned down and looked at the packages without touching them. It’s sad to be so paranoid, he thought. One of the packages was addressed to Morgan Djai and he supposed it could be the digital scale—delivered in one day instead of two. The other one was in fact addressed to Daryn Djai. They both looked like normal Amazon packages. They had typical Amazon sealing tape that looked undisturbed. He decided he didn’t think they could be bombs.

Nonetheless, Morgan picked a wooden chair up off the porch, and holding it by the back, poked the packages with one of the chair’s legs hoping the wooden seat might provide a little protection from an explosion. Nothing happened. Next, reasoning that any triggers would probably be set off by opening the package normally, he got out his knife and cut a hole in the middle of a sidewall of the first package. He peered into the package and to his relief saw a commercial looking blue box inside. The box was labeled as containing a digital scale.

He followed the same procedure in opening the other package. He blinked. It contained a blister package with two small canisters of Mace. I guess Daryn must’ve thought someone might be coming after him, he thought. Unfortunately, it didn’t get here in time.

Lindl went upstairs and they soon heard him playing guitar. Morgan took the canisters of Mace up to his room and put them in the drawer. He got out the block of metal and took it back downstairs to the new digital scale.

Seeing him with it, Adam said, “Oh yeah. Are you going to check the density more accurately now?”

Morgan nodded. With the more accurate scale, the block of metal weighed 338.50 grams. That part was simple, but replicating the displacement measurement at the same degree of accuracy was significantly more difficult. He got two results of 15.77 and one result of 15.78 ccs.

Adam said, “Those give us densities of 21.46 or 21.45 grams per cubic centimeter.” He pulled over Morgan’s laptop where they’d pulled up a table displaying the densities of the various elements. “Hey,” he said a little excitedly, “21.45 is exactly right for platinum.” He chewed his lip, “21.46 would be a tiny bit too dense.” He looked up at his dad, “I guess it must be 21.45, right? Our measurement of 21.46 must a little bit off?”

Morgan shrugged, “Maybe it’s not pure.”

Adam looked at a table with the metals’ values, “If it’s a mixture of rhenium and iridium, it’d be worth almost as much as platinum.”

Morgan gave him a dubious look. He glanced at the density and value tables himself and said, “It’d be about one third iridium and two thirds rhenium. Iridium’s worth more than platinum, but rhenium’s a lot cheaper, only about ninety dollars per Troy ounce.” He shrugged, “So, one third iridium and two thirds rhenium would be quite a bit less than platinum.” He shrugged, “But still, we’re talking thousands of dollars so nothing to sneer at.” He looked at the list of densities again, “I suppose it could be partly osmium and partly tungsten. That combination would be a lot less valuable than iridium-rhenium.” He sighed, “What I really want to know is what it’s actually made of. To me that’s much more important than how much it might be worth. What’s it made of, and where did it come from? If we knew those things, we might be able to figure out what happened to Daryn.”

Adam said, “Okay, okay. I’ll spend some more time trying to figure out if we can test it ourselves without sending it off for an assay.”

Morgan said, “I’ll be in the basement. Maybe I can figure out what Daryn’s been doing by looking over the tools he’d been using.”

***

When Morgan came back upstairs, Adam looked up and said, “You figure it out?”

Morgan shook his head dispiritedly. “In the first place, I can’t tell which tools he was using. I mean, none of them look new, just out of the box, so I assume he’s used them all. But I can’t tell which ones he’s been using a lot, or most recently. I recognize some of the equipment,” he snorted, “hammers, screwdrivers, drill press, vice…” He shook his head, “Actually, it isn’t that bad. He’s got a lot of scientific equipment and I’ve at least heard of most of it, but I’ve never used it or even seen examples before. I certainly don’t have any way of knowing whether Daryn was using a piece of equipment. Did you have any luck figuring out how we can test the block of metal?”

Adam said, “At room temperature, rhenium resists all acids except for concentrated nitric acid. Osmium’s resistant to all acids, and iridium’s even more resistant than osmium. Platinum’s resistant to hydrochloric and nitric acid but dissolves in hot aqua regia.”

“What’s aqua regia?”

“It’s a mixture of nitric acid and hydrochloric acid. It’ll also dissolve gold. It’s a yellow orange fuming liquid that’s really toxic and has to be mixed up right before you use it because it goes bad pretty quickly. But, if we had some, it’d help us tell whether the metal’s platinum rather than iridium or osmium.”

“Can we get these acids?”

“You can get little vials of some acids from Amazon in precious metal testing kits. Unfortunately, they’re mostly oriented towards testing for gold, silver, and platinum, not differentiating the ‘platinum group of metals’ which is what they call the group of metals we’re suspecting. From what I can tell, iridium and osmium would pass the commercially available jewelry tests for platinum. I haven’t looked into whether we can buy nitric or hydrochloric acid.”

Morgan said, “I guess we probably should keep working on sending some of it off for assay at a professional lab.”

“Even that could be a problem unless we want to send the whole thing. Iridium, osmium, and rhenium are all as hard or harder than a steel file. That could make it hard to get flakes off it to send for assay. Platinum’s soft enough…” His eyes widened.

Morgan said, “There are files in the basement.” He pulled the block of metal out of his pocket, “Let’s go see what happens when we take a file to this thing.”

The block of metal was soft enough that the file easily cut into it. Adam said, “I guess it’s probably platinum. Unless, do you think there might be some way to make rhenium or one of the others soft? Some alloy or treatment we don’t know about?”

Morgan’d been frowning at the small block of metal. “No. I think it’s platinum. And I guess we know why those guys were after Daryn.”

Adam gave him a puzzled look, “But how did they even know about it?”

Morgan shook his head, “Damned if I know.”

***

Morgan was doing some Internet searches to learn more about platinum mining when he suddenly remembered the three extra rooms visible on the video of the mine. He climbed the stairs and tapped on the frame of the door to Lindl’s room. Lindl and Adam looked up. He said, “Hey guys, I’m gonna go up and have a look through the mine. It seems kind of crazy to be sitting here wondering where that platinum came from when I haven’t even seen the inside of the mine myself.”

Lindl set down his guitar, “I’ll go with you. I’ve been in it a few times.” This relieved Morgan since he’d intended to ask Lindl to go so he could quiz him about the extra three rooms after they got up there.

Adam hopped up, saying he wanted to go as well. They put on their sturdiest shoes and light jackets. Lindl found them some heavy-duty flashlights before they started up the hill. When they got to the big doors at the mine entrance, Lindl stopped. Looking concerned, he said, “The gate’s unlocked. We’re supposed to keep it locked when no one’s inside.” He glanced at the others, “You know, so people don’t get in and get hurt.”

Morgan looked at the large combination padlock. It had four little scroll wheels on its side to set the combination. “What’s the combo?”

“1-0-3-1,” Lindl said.

The date for Halloween, Morgan thought. “Okay, I guess we should lock it when we leave.” Morgan pulled the gate open.

As they stepped into the mine entrance, Adam said, “What if the second guy’s actually still lost in here? We’d be locking him in.”

Morgan thought about this as they started down the tunnel, “If we do lock it, I suppose we should come up and check it each day.” He looked up at the lights that dimly lit the tunnel, “Are these lights on all the time?”

Lindl said, “They could be, they’re low-power LEDs, so it wouldn’t waste much power. But there’s an app in the video surveillance system that turns them on when it detects motion. It’s so quick, you’d never know they were off.”

As they walked Morgan turned his light down onto the rails. He could see a small black stripe running down the center of the rail’s surface. “You guys have a car for the rails?”

“Um, yeah,” Lindl said, “I don’t know where it is though.”

“Must be deeper in the mine,” Adam said.

As they walked deeper into the tunnel system, Morgan started pondering how to ask Lindl about the three rooms visible in the camera system. Suddenly, he realized that the three rooms weren’t visible in the videos Lindl had downloaded onto the drives for Tilly Arvind. Is that because he wanted the video images to be larger for better viewing? he wondered. Or, is he trying to hide those extra rooms just like his sister seemed to be? Maybe that’s why he wanted to be the one to copy and annotate the videos?

Morgan decided to wait until they’d explored the mine before he tried to put Lindl on the spot about the extra rooms.

He hadn’t been able to find much online about what platinum ore looked like. He’d learned that almost all platinum was just a byproduct of copper mining. He realized that if he was back here trying to figure out if the platinum came from the mine, he’d better start looking for it. He turned his flashlight onto the walls of the tunnel. He couldn’t, after all, expect platinum ore to lean out of the wall and say, “Here I am.”

The walls were rough, dark and unexceptional. He certainly didn’t see any flashes of silvery metal nuggets, though he realized just how ridiculous it’d be to hope for that. If chunks of platinum were in plain view, the original mine would never have shut down.

Before they hit their first branch, Lindl pointed out some knocked over stakes and rope surrounding a hole in the floor of the tunnel. “That’s what Kiri was talking about. The place she thinks the second guy might have fallen into. They gathered around, shining their lights down into the hole but couldn’t see a bottom. Wondering if someone might be down there, Morgan shouted down into it a couple of times, but there was no response.

They walked and walked, first taking a branch to the right, then coming back and taking the next branch to the right. Every time they came to a branch, Lindl inspected the large chalked arrows on the wall by the junction. They pointed towards the main entrance. Morgan immediately recognized that they were there to keep people from getting lost. When the arrows weren’t sharply obvious, Lindl went over them with a big chunk of chalk he’d brought along. Adam said, “Do you guys freshen the chalk every time you come back here?”

“I do,” Lindl said. “I’ve heard too many horror stories of people getting lost in tunnels. Dad always said we should freshen the chalk any time we went back, but I don’t think he was very religious about it. He and Kiri were both a lot more cavalier about the mine than I am. They spent a lot more time up here and I think they got desensitized to the danger.”

Morgan said, “Kiri said she hadn’t ever been very deep in the mine.”

Lindl said, “That might be true. She might not have ever gone deeper than the first junction. I guess I misspoke. Mostly it was Dad who was cavalier.”

Adam said, “That chalk wouldn’t be very helpful if your light burned out.”

“Yeah,” Lindl said, “there’s also a spike at hand height that you can feel for in the dark. It’s driven into the rocks at an angle near the arrows. The head end slants toward the mine entrance to tell you which way to go. They’re not easy to see against the rough rock, but I’ve been looking to be sure they’re there. I’ll point out a set the next time we come to a side tunnel.”

Morgan thought despairingly, I didn’t even notice spikes driven into the wall, but I’m hoping to find tiny platinum nuggets.

After tromping through the mine’s tunnels for a couple of hours they hadn’t found anything but empty tunnels. Most of them didn’t even have rails. Noticing his flashlight seemed a little dimmer, Morgan pointed that out and said, “I think we’d better take a break and head back for new batteries. Lindl, do you have any idea how much of the tunnel system we’ve actually seen so far?”

“No. I’ve never tried to search the whole thing like this.”

Adam asked, “Are you sure we haven’t been down some of the same tunnels twice?”

“I’ve been following the right side of the tunnel,” Lindl said. “When we get to an end, I come back along the right side and turn right at the next junction. As long as we’re following a single-plane branched-tree, we shouldn’t make any repeats. If some of them form loops, in theory we could wind up going round and round in circles, but actually the arrows’d tell us what was happening.” He stopped and drew a big chalk star on the wall. “That’ll tell us where to start when we come back.”

Following the arrows that indicated the direction to the entrance, it turned out not to be all that far before they came to the lighted section of the tunnel near the entrance. Morgan jockeyed into position just behind Lindl, then said, “Lindl, the security cameras show a grid of six pictures.” Morgan thought he saw a slight stiffening of Lindl’s shoulders. He knows what’s coming, Morgan thought. He continued, “The bottom three images show the entrance and this lit section of the tunnel we’re coming to. But the top three images show rooms full of equipment. At first I thought they might be images of the basement, but they’re not. What are we seeing in those three pictures?”

Lindl kept walking silently but even from behind, Morgan got the distinct impression he was unhappy. Finally, Morgan said, “Lindl?”

Letting out a long breath, Lindl said, “Those are rooms that Dad and Kiri used for… exotic research.”

“Where are they?”

Again there was a period of silence, but this time Lindl spoke without being prompted. “You’d have to ask Kiri. It’s… It’s her project now.”

“Aren’t you worried that the exotic research might be the reason those guys came after your dad?”

Lindl sighed, “Yeah…” He didn’t say anything more. Morgan decided not to keep interrogating him.

They opened the gate and stepped out the mine entrance. Having reception again, Morgan’s phone chirped. He had a text message from Tilly Arvind. “Expect your niece will be released tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed.”

Morgan sent her back a text expressing his appreciation for her help. Walking down the road to the house, he thought about her straight black hair and smoky dark eyes. He’d really liked the immense sense of competence she carried with her. He wondered whether he’d have any reason to see her again once Kiri was released.

***

Buckley looked up as Dan sank into the seat across from him in the little brew pub. “What happened?” he asked.

Dan shook his head unhappily. “The shit hit the fan. Hard.” He proceeded to describe what sounded like a real debacle in Djai’s mine.

“What about Rob?” Buckley asked.

Dan shook his head again. “That hole Djai kicked him into, I swear it goes down forever. I couldn’t see any light from his flashlight and he didn’t make a peep when I yelled for him. I… I think he’s a goner.” Dan didn’t mention that he’d been feeling guilty. In his anxiety to get out of the mine, he’d forgotten to at least shout down the hole on his way out. Rob might be down there waiting for someone to get him out, he didn’t know.

Buckley said, “And you think Djai got shot when the girl nutted you?”

“That’s what the girl was screaming anyway.” Buckley didn’t say anything and after a moment, then said, “And some dudes were shouting ‘police’ and telling her what to do. They sounded like a bunch of cops all right.”

“When they were going back and forth past your hideout, you thought they were looking for you. But did you hear them say anything about how Djai was doing? Or whether they actually were looking for you?”

“Nah, I could hear them going by and see the flashes from their lights, but none of them did any talking close enough for me to understand what they were saying.”

Buckley held his beer up to the light. He took a sip and said, “You get the impression that mine was being actively worked?”

Dan shook his head. “Nothing to suggest it in the tunnels I was in. But…”

When Dan didn’t go on, Buckley said, “But what?”

“Well, everything I read says you can’t underground mine platinum. Not and have it be,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “‘economically viable’ anyway.” He gave Buckley a questioning look, “You remember how I said I thought Djai was really smart?”

Buckley nodded.

Dan shrugged, “Maybe he’s found some other way to get platinum out of a mine.”

Buckley frowned, “What other way?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Lasers, phasers, vortex suction, ESP traction? If I knew how they did it, I’d start my own mine.”

“So, I guess you killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. Well, the platinum eggs.”

Dan grimaced, “Maybe his kids know how to do it too?”

Buckley gave him a questioning look, “How old are they?”

“Teenagers. I would’ve said the girl was sixteen or so.”

“And you figured this out in the dark, by feel?”

Dan rolled his eyes, “She felt older than twelve, know what I mean?”

Buckley shook his head, “Even if the kids do know, how would we get them to tell us?”

“Everybody talks, given the right kind of persuasion.”

“Sure, they talk. They’ll say whatever they think you want them to say. Doesn’t mean they’re telling the truth.” Buckley took another sip of his beer, “Doesn’t even mean they know the truth.”

“So,” Dan said, jutting his chin a little. “We’re just giving up?”

Buckley shrugged, “No, keep trying to figure out what’s going on. But don’t let it stand between you and getting the rest of your work done.”

Chapter Four

Sunday morning

Midmorning Sunday, the doorbell rang. When Morgan answered it, he found a policeman standing there with Kiri. “Hi Kiri! he said, unconsciously stepping forward to give her a hug. He remembered her aversion to hugs just in time and settled for patting her on the back. To his relief, she didn’t squirm away.

Morgan gave the policeman a questioning look.

The man said, “Morgan Djai?”

Morgan nodded.

The cop nodded toward Kiri, “You’re Ms. Kiri Djai’s uncle and guardian?”

Morgan nodded again. Remembering Tilly’s advice to stay on the good side of the police, he said, “Yes sir.”

The policeman straightened a little and spoke as if he were reading from a script, “The Police Department and Detective Chatfield would like to convey their apologies for the arrest of Ms. Djai prior to the full review of the videotape from the mine’s security cameras. She’s again being placed under your care, although she should not leave the city.”

Kiri took a breath and looked like she was about to say something disparaging, but she subsided at a quelling look from Morgan.

The policeman nodded toward the road up to the mine and said, “The investigation at the mine has been reopened and we’ll be bringing in a team to explore the vertical shafts as well as to search the mine a second time, looking for any other possible hiding places for the second man.”

Trying to remain pleasant, Morgan said, “Have you gotten any further in determining the motive for the attack?”

The policeman glanced up the hill toward the mine, but then faced Morgan again and said, “Not to my knowledge, sir.”

“Will someone keep us apprised? I’m concerned that, depending on what that motive was, the rest of us might be in danger too.”

The policeman nodded, “I’ll mention that to Detective Chatfield.”

“Thank you,” Morgan said, holding the door open and motioning Kiri into the house.

The policeman gave a little two fingered salute and departed. Morgan stepped into the house and found Kiri waiting for him. “I so want to give them a piece of my mind,” she said. She gave Morgan a little grin, “Thanks for reminding me I shouldn’t.”

Morgan grinned back, “I appreciate your restraint.”

She gave him a nod and headed for the stairs. He wanted to ask her about the hidden rooms, but decided to wait until she’d had a chance to settle back in. Instead, he shouted up the stairs, “Lindl, Adam… Kiri’s home!”

She was only part way up the stairs when they came around the corner and thundered down to greet her enthusiastically.

Morgan decided that he should let Tilly Arvind know that Kiri’d been released. It would, after all, save Ms. Arvind worrying about whether Kiri’d been turned loose and perhaps wasting her time checking into it.

After spending thirty minutes carefully considering what to say, he began to realize just how afflicted he was. He’d started out wondering how to phrase the call so it’d sound friendly, yet professional.

Not too professional though.

A friendly courtesy call from one professional to another. No, that’s not right. She’s the professional and I’m the client. I’m not trying to end-run that relationship. I just don’t want her to waste her time. And I’m friendly.

If she’s interested.

What if she’s married but just doesn’t wear her ring? He found himself searching the Internet. Trying to find evidence for or against that possibility. He gave it up as a bad idea, deciding that the chances a married woman wouldn’t be wearing her ring had to be pretty low.

He wondered if he could invite her out to dinner to celebrate Kiri’s freedom. That’s gotta be inappropriate. She’s a professional. You don’t invite a professional out to dinner because she did her job. It’s not like she worked on Kiri’s case for months and I’ve really gotten to know her. And I’d have to get Adam to give me some money to do it with.

Feeling somewhat crazed, he settled on a text. “Dear Ms. Arvind. As you expected, they brought Kiri home this morning. We even got an apology. Thank you very, very much for your help.” After further agonizing, he added a final sentence, “I hope that we might see you again sometime, under more pleasant circumstances.”

He vacillated for a while, but finally sent it.

Sunday evening

Morgan went upstairs to invite the teenagers down to dinner. He’d made a pot of chili, garlic bread and a salad. He found all three teenagers in Lindl’s room. Adam sat in the chair looking pinched while Kiri and Lindl sprawled on the beds. For once, Lindl wasn’t playing his guitar though it laid near to hand. His eyes were red, and when Morgan looked at Kiri he saw hers were the same. When she lifted her head to look at him, she rubbed at a cheek. Nonetheless, the dried streaks of her tears remained. Morgan said quietly, “I’ve made dinner, but it can wait. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lindl and Kiri both shook their heads. Adam stood up and sidled toward Morgan.

Morgan said, “I’ll put dinner on hold until seven. See you then.” He exited the room, Adam close on his heels.

As they went downstairs, Morgan asked, “Something happen?”

Sounding distraught, Adam said, “I asked something about Uncle Daryn. I can’t even remember what it was anymore. Lindl started to answer, then Kiri filled in some details. Moments later they were just pouring out their hearts, tears running down their faces.” Adam shook his head, “From the stories they told, your brother was the kind of dad everyone ought to have.”

Morgan wanted to say something wise. Something that would somehow show he could live up to the impossible standard of fatherhood that’d apparently been set by his brother.

But the frog in his throat kept him from speaking.

Back in the kitchen, he put the bread back in the warm oven and the pot of chili on the burner at its lowest setting. Then he and Adam sat silently at the breakfast bar thinking. When Morgan thought he could speak without croaking, he said, “I think you did them a service. It’s probably good for them to… to talk about him. It’s a time-honored tradition at wakes and memorials to reminisce about the person who died.”

Adam didn’t say anything for a while and Morgan wondered if he understood. Finally, he said, “I’ve never been to a funeral or memorial. Are we going to have one for Uncle Daryn?”

“In his will he said he wanted to be cremated. I guess I should ask Lindl and Kiri if that’s okay with them. I’m sure Daryn wouldn’t care if they wanted him to be buried instead.” He sighed, “With so little in the way of family and friends, it’d be pretty strange to have a big funeral ceremony. I guess he might have a bunch of friends I don’t know about.”

Adam said, “You can still have a memorial service, right? Even if you’re being cremated?”

“Yeah, but we could do that with just the four of us if they wanted. Scatter his ashes in a favorite place or something.”

Monday morning

Kiri ran down the stairs and out the back door. Her eyes were already focused on the start of her favorite trail when motion caught her eye. Adam was getting up off a stump. He had on an old T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. He wants to go running with me, she realized.

It became even more evident as he spooled up to a running stride, taking an angle that’d intersect her path to the trail. “Morning,” he said cheerfully as he pulled up alongside.

“I hope you don’t think we’re going out to chitchat on a nice easy run.”

He gave her a grin, “Nope, no chitchat. You’re going to run me into the ground. All you’ll hear from me’s a lot of gasping.”

She grinned back, “Damn right.”

They settled into eating miles. They’d gone some distance when Kiri realized there was something companionable about running with a buddy… cousin? This’s weird, she thought. He may be my cousin, but he feels more like a good friend. A mile later, she’d decided that he probably didn’t feel like a cousin because she didn’t know him like you’d normally know a family member.

She looked over at him and he flashed her a strained smile. She turned back to the front again before she realized just how strained it had been. She looked back at him and immediately slowed. “Holy crap Adam! Are you trying to kill yourself?” He looked as blown out as someone who’d just tried to win a distance race.

A few seconds later, he’d stopped, braced his hands on his knees and begun gasping for breath. Kiri took his elbow, “Come on. Stand up. Walk it out so you won’t cramp.” She walked him in a small half circle that pointed him back toward the house then tugged until he was shambling that direction.

Adam glanced over at her, a little wide-eyed as if he had no idea what’d just happened to him. “Hey… Sorry.” He made an abortive wave down the trail the way they’d been going. “Go… ‘m-okay.”

Kiri snorted, “You’re not okay. If I kept running, when I came back I’d probably find you melted down into a puddle. Why’d you push it so hard?”

He made a helpless little wave, “‘mbarrassed.”

“Is this some kind of macho, ‘not gonna get beaten by a girl’ kind of crap?”

He nodded, producing a weak grin, “Full. Of. crap.” After a moment, “Sorry.”

She gave him an affectionate little shove, “You should be.” As she walked along beside him, she wondered at herself. I should be pissed about this kind of ridiculous macho posturing. Why do I think it’s cute? Just because he’s related to me?

After a bit, Adam was standing up straight and he’d started walking like his legs weren’t just about to collapse. He said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wreck your run. I can make it the rest of the way back on my own.”

Kiri sized him up and decided he’d probably be okay. “Okay, I’ll come back this same way so if you do disintegrate I’ll find the dust.” She eyed him a moment longer, bothered by the fact that she kind of wanted to keep walking back with him. With a little shake of her head, she said, “Just keep walking. Don’t do anything stupid like sitting down or, conversely, deciding to run the rest of the way back.”

He nodded, and she turned back to her trail.

When she came back, Kiri found Adam walking in little circles on the trail—just short of where it came back into view of the house. She slowed, “What’s going on?”

He gave her an embarrassed look, “When I told Lindl I was going out for a run with you… Um he might’ve told me you were going to destroy me.”

“Uh-huh, and you didn’t take his advice because…?”

“Um, I might be stupid?”

She nodded matter-of-factly, “Agreed.”

“Could I… could I run up to the house with you? Try to fake Lindl into thinking I’d kept up with you?”

Kiri laughed, “Keep up your manly posturing?”

“Just for a microsecond. I promise I’ll confess what an idiot I am. I just want to see the look in his eyes when we get back at the same time.”

He looked so hangdog Kiri found it kind of sweet. She shrugged, “I don’t care. We can pretend you did great if you want. No need for a confession. Hell, I’ll complain to him about how I couldn’t keep up with you if you want.”

Adam laughed, “Oh no. There’s no way he’d believe that. I just want him to have a moment of doubt.”

He turned and started jogging the rest of the way to the house. Kiri said, “If you want to fool him, we’ve got to run to the house, not slog along like you’re doing. I don’t jog.”

“Oh, okay. You set the pace.”

When they got up the stairs and Adam turned into Lindl’s room, Kiri listened for a moment. Adam said, “You were right, she can really run.”

Lindl said, “You kept up?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah… about that. If you’ll look out this window, you’ll notice it looks out over the trail. I could see you hanging out there waiting for her to get back.”

A peal of laughter came from Adam, “You were right. She kicked my ass so hard it probably ruined her shoe.”

Kiri could hear them laughing as she turned for the shower. She thought she should have been irritated by the way Adam wanted to pretend he could run with her, but she found something adorable about it. Especially the way he’d immediately confessed, then laughed so hard about it.

***

xxx

Lindl was out on the porch, noodling on his guitar. He’d been having trouble playing serious guitar because his mind kept running off the rails. A lot of his distraction had to do with the death of his father. Some came from wondering about whether he should go to college or not. Despite Uncle Morgan talking about it a couple of times, it wasn’t clear to him whether there was enough money for him to go to college or not. Morgan said there would be, but Lindl had the impression that Morgan was promising to send them to college himself if Daryn hadn’t left enough.

Plenty of successful musicians didn’t go to colleges or music schools. Usually they were successful as performing musicians, not as music teachers, but Lindl didn’t want to teach anyway. He certainly would never consider going into debt to get a music education. If the adults were correct about how little money he was going to make, he sure didn’t want to start out in debt. With Morgan out of work it seemed crazy for him to be promising to send Lindl and Kiri to college. Kiri really did need to go to college to have a shot at her dreams. And, Uncle Morgan was on the hook for Adam’s college too. So, if there was enough money between what their dad had left and whatever help Morgan could come up with to send someone to college, Kiri was the one who should go.

Besides, he thought, I really want to give performing a shot. Find out if I’ve got what it takes. I probably need some kind of business education, but maybe I can just study the business of music on-line. I could even take some courses.

Decision made, he relaxed back on the bench. For a moment he thought he’d be able to focus on his playing, but then he got distracted by the fact that Adam had been in Kiri’s room when he’d come downstairs. It’d looked like he was just in there having a casual conversation, but Lindl had been feeling a little uncomfortable about how friendly Adam had been with Lindl’s sister.

The door opened and Adam stepped out on the porch. “What’cha playin’?,” he asked, looking over at Lindl.

“Just noodlin’,” Lindl said as Adam walked over and sat across the porch from him.

“That’s the name of the song?” Adam asked.

“No, it’s what musicians call it when they’re just screwing around rather than seriously playing.”

Adam gave him an admiring look, “That’s some seriously good screwing around. You oughta record it and put it up for sale.”

“Thanks,” Lindl said. He’d learned not to try to explain to people how hard it’d be to sell something disorganized like what he’d just been playing. Lindl tried to get a little more serious about what he was playing but quickly realized he’d gone right back to noodling again. With a sigh, he started playing gently so it’d be easy to talk over the guitar. “What were you and Kiri talking about?”

“I don’t know, this and that.” Adam looked out across the valley, “She’s really easy to talk to, you know?”

Uncomfortably, Lindl said, “No, I don’t know. Most people find her hard to talk to.”

Adam turned concerned eyes on Lindl, “Hey, you upset?”

Lindl shrugged, “You guys seem awfully friendly.”

Adam stared at him for a moment, then he said, “Oh… Are you thinking we’re too friendly?”

Lindl looked down at the floor, “For cousins? Yeah, maybe.”

Adam cleared his throat. Sounding uncomfortable, he said, “I’m adopted.”

Disbelievingly, Lindl’s eyes shot up to Adam’s. Adam looked completely serious. Perhaps a little embarrassed. “You are?”

Adam nodded.

“Does she know?”

Adam shrugged, “I might have mentioned it a little while ago. I’m not sure she was listening.”

“So you’re…?”

Adam nodded, “I’m… I’m crazy about her. I hope you’re not the kind of protective big brother who’s going to beat the crap out of me?”

Lindl sat, staring at Adam and sorting through his feelings. He really liked his cousin. But he had been getting kind of uncomfortable with the way Adam looked at Kiri. Now? Now it’s okay, he realized. He grinned at Adam, “I’m not going to beat the crap out of you. But she might. You should be aware… she’s already broken a lot of hearts.”

Adam’s eyes widened, “She’s fifteen. How many boyfriends has she had?”

Lindl snorted, “None. Whole bunch of wannabes though. Some down in flames. Others with stakes driven through the heart. She puts up with no crap.” He shook his head sorrowfully, “If you want to have any chance, somehow you’ve got to keep her from finding out just how lame you actually are.”

Adam snorted, “Damn, she already knows I can’t run. How am I going to impress her?”

“I might’ve gooned you a little there. She’s won a couple of marathons.” Lindl shrugged, “In fact, both of the marathons she’s entered. Most elite women marathoners are in their thirties, so if she can win them at fifteen… that’s kinda crazy.”

Adam gave him a wide-eyed look, “And you didn’t warn me?! Don’t you care about your cousin at all?”

Lindl grinned, “I do like seeing him get slapped down.”

Monday noon

They were eating sandwiches for lunch. Lindl had finished his first and started his second. His T-shirt had Jimi Hendrix playing a flaming guitar. Kiri had on black jeans, a black tank top and a matching set of bright pink earrings and necklace. The stones looked like pink turquoise to Morgan, though he knew they must be something else. For a few moments he wondered whether growing up without a mother had led to her odd style choices. He decided her choices might be different, but he liked her look. I sure don’t know enough about style to advise her to wear something different.

Kiri looked up, “I ordered something from Amazon. Haven’t we gotten any packages?”

Morgan blinked, “We got one while you were in detention. I thought it must have been something your dad ordered before…” Morgan cleared his throat. “It was Mace. Did you order that?”

She nodded, “Friday night. I kept thinking that if I’d had some pepper spray I could have gotten loose from that…” her jaw worked a little, “that guy.”

“Oh,” Morgan said. “I’ve got it up in my room. I can get it for you after we finish eating.” She nodded and picked up her sandwich. He cleared his throat. When the three teenagers looked at him, he said, “We need to figure some things out. Are you guys up to talking about…” he shrugged, “our future?”

All three nodded, though he thought Kiri’s response looked a little hesitant.

“Okay, first thing’s school.” He looked at Lindl and Kiri, “Memorial Day weekend’s about done, do you guys think you’re going to feel up to going back to school tomorrow?”

They both looked thoughtful, but, after a brief hesitation, they nodded yes.

“How do you normally get to school. Bus? Drive?”

Lindl said, “Usually I drive. We could take the bus if there’s some reason to?”

“And Kiri rides with you?”

They nodded.

“Okay,” Morgan said. “Do you think you can get yourselves to school tomorrow morning? I’d like to drive Adam back home so he can go to school too. He’s going to stay with a friend the last eight days of school so I can stay with you guys.”

“We can stay by ourselves,” Kiri said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not right after such a traumatic event. Especially with the possibility that the police might come back and hassle you. Even if they just came by to ask questions, my absence might lead to some concern from the authorities.” He shrugged, “Besides, I don’t have a place to live down there, so it’d save us all some money if I lived here. Adam says he’ll be happy to come back up here once school’s out.”

Kiri looked at him, “You don’t want to stay with your mom?”

Adam gave an abrupt shake of his head, “No way.”

Focusing on Adam, Morgan said, “I’m figuring we’ll leave at four in the morning so we can make it there in time for you to get to school a little after eight.”

“School doesn’t start until 8:45!”

Morgan snorted, “Okay, we’ll leave at 4:30.”

“I don’t have to go to first period.”

Morgan grinned at him, “I need to get that loan from Roger and deposit it in the bank. I should establish a credit card and a checking account. I’d also like to talk to the guy that manages my retirement funds. I need to start withdrawing from those so I’m not completely dependent on Roger. If I have to sign something in person for that to happen, it’d be great to get it done while I’m down there.”

Adam shrugged, obviously not following the point of Morgan’s digression.

Morgan lifted an eyebrow, “I’d like to do all that and get back up here to Asheville around the time Kiri and Lindl get home.” Morgan looked at Lindl, “Will you be able to take Kiri to her class at the college?”

Lindl glanced at Kiri who answered, “My dual enrollment class’s over for the summer.”

“Okay, that solves that.” He drew a breath, “Next, I’d like to talk a little about long-term plans. Not that anything has to be decided today, but so all three of you can start thinking about the possibilities.”

They nodded uncertainly at him.

“We need to decide where to live. I presume that would either be Asheville or Chapel Hill, but I suppose we could all move somewhere else as well. Since I’m out of work, I’m not particularly bound down to any location.” He looked at Kiri and Lindl, noticing that Kiri looked worried. He didn’t address that yet, “I’ve got somewhat of a handle on your dad’s finances now. As you know, most of his income came from royalties on various inventions. The royalties have been dropping off for several years. I think this’s because sales on the products his patents covered are dropping off and he hasn’t sold any new patents for a while. The previous patents haven’t expired yet, but some of them are going to expire in the next few years. Your dad also has some stock market investments that produce some dividends. Right now, income’s just about covering your expenses, but as the royalty income continues dropping, keeping up with the expenses is going to be a problem. If we had to, we could sell some of your dad’s investments, but I’d like to preserve those so you guys could inherit them.” He shrugged, “Nonetheless, we might need to sell them to pay college tuition if you decide to go someplace expensive.”

Morgan paused, allowing them time to interject or ask questions, but they didn’t say anything. I’ve hit them with the bad news, now for some good news, he thought. “One thing that’d help a lot would be selling this property.” Morgan noticed Lindl glancing at Kiri. She was putting down her sandwich, eyes wide. He plowed ahead so they’d understand it wasn’t just a whim on his part. “The mortgage payments on the property are $4,862 a month which means the mortgage is about a million dollars. Since banks typically want a down payment of about twenty percent, that would suggest that Daryn paid about $1.2 million for it. The house certainly isn’t worth that. I assume that the price was so high because there must be quite a bit of land, going all the way back up to the mine. I can’t believe the mine itself has much value…”

Morgan slowed to a halt at the stricken look on Kiri’s face. She said, “We can’t sell the mine!”

“Okay,” Morgan said equanimously, “but you’re going to need to tell me why.”

Kiri’s lips pressed together in a thin line, “Dad had a project up there. He’s been working on it for years.”

“Where is it?” When she didn’t say anything, Morgan shrugged. “Lindl, Adam, and I walked through a lot of the mine on Saturday and didn’t find anything but tunnels and rails. Admittedly, we didn’t get through the whole thing, only some of the tunnels off to the right side of it. Should we have been turning left?”

“No,” Kiri said, looking stubborn. She didn’t elaborate further.

“Does it have something to do with those three rooms that are visible on the security cameras? Are they up in the mine somewhere?”

Kiri continued focusing what wasn’t quite a glare on Morgan. Lips pressed together, she didn’t look like she planned to say anything.

Ever.

Then Lindl said, “Come on Kiri. Just yesterday you were telling me how much you liked Uncle Morgan. You said you could tell he had our best interests at heart. Why aren’t you—”

“Because,” she interrupted, “this was the best thing Dad ever came up with! Something that’d put his name on everyone’s lips. I don’t want someone else taking credit for it.”

Quietly, Morgan said, “I’m not after any credit. I’d be proud to have my brother’s name on everyone’s lips.”

Sounding sympathetic, Lindl said, “You’re going to need Uncle Morgan’s help developing it.”

She blinked and looked at Lindl, then at Morgan, then back at Lindl, “Why? He’s a software guy. He doesn’t know physics.”

Patiently, Lindl said, “It’s gonna cost money. Just keeping the mine’s costing a lot of money. Figuring out how Dad finally got it to work, getting a patent, working out who to sell it to. All that’s going to cost money.” He paused for a moment, then pushed on, “You don’t think Uncle Morgan’s going to finance all that without understanding what it is, do you?”

Stubbornly, she said, “He’d be spending the money Dad left for us.”

Lindl quirked a smile, “Money that Dad put him in charge of. Money he’s supposed to take care of until we’re of age. Not money he’s supposed to let us blow on some project he doesn’t even know about.”

Kiri rolled her eyes. “Okay!” she said, the word exploding out of her like a sigh. “He’d been working on transmutation. That block of metal you’ve been so interested in suggests he got it working.”

Absurdly glad that Lindl had taken his side, Morgan said, “Great.” He looked pointedly at Kiri’s plate. “Eat first, then you can tell us what you know about how it works.” He picked up his own sandwich and lifted it towards his mouth, stopping with it nearly there as his brain caught up with what she’d said, Holy shit! Transmutation? Isn’t that when you change lead into gold?

Adam tilted his head curiously and asked, “What kind of mutation?”

Kiri stared uncomprehendingly at him for a moment, then blinked with enlightenment. She snorted, “One that trans people use to change their gender.”

Adam narrowed an eye at her for a moment. He glanced at the grinning Lindl, then said, “You’re making fun of your retarded cousin, aren’t you?”

Her eyes twinkled as she said, “‘Retarded’ is an offensive term. Only a retarded cousin would say something like that.”

Lindl got out his phone, “Wait, wait. You’re both being offensive. I’m calling the PC police.”

Kiri’s eyes widened and she turned towards Lindl. Raising her hands, she made a couple of quick bowing motions, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. Please, call them off!”

Adam put his hands together as if praying. He intoned, “Oh great PC in the sky, please forgive us.”

Morgan rolled his eyes, thinking that, as the adult, he should chide them for what they were saying, but not wanting to ruin their good spirits when they’d been spending so much time down in the dumps. Especially when Kiri picked up her sandwich and took a healthy bite. After a moment he settled for, “Children, children. Be nice.”

Adam said, “So, transmutation. Are you talking about the kind where you transmute one chemical into another?”

Kiri raised an eyebrow, “One element into another.”

Adam’s eyes went to Morgan for an instant, then back to Kiri. “I thought elements couldn’t be changed? Well, I mean, they can be combined with other elements to make different molecules, but the atoms of an element can’t be changed, right?”

“Atoms can’t be changed with chemistry. Chemistry’s all about combining atoms into different kinds of molecules. However, nuclear reactions change atoms into different elements all the time. Hydrogen fuses into helium in the sun. In an atomic bomb, or a nuclear power plant, uranium splits into smaller elements like barium, cesium, zirconium, or niobium. In fact, a radioactive element’s one that’s naturally unstable so it tends to just fall apart into smaller elements.”

“Oh,” Adam said thoughtfully, “I kind of remember reading that somewhere.” His eyes went from Kiri to Lindl and back to Kiri. “So, is that what Uncle Daryn was doing? Splitting bigger atoms into smaller ones?”

“Um, no,” she said slowly, as if uncertain how to explain. Then she produced a sweet smile and said, “He was working on alpha capture with proton loss.” The smile suggested she knew neither Adam nor Morgan would have any idea what she was talking about.

There was a long silence and for a moment, Morgan was afraid he’d have to demonstrate his ignorance by asking a question himself. Fortunately, Adam said, “And just what does ‘alpha capture with proton loss’ mean?”

Kiri gave him a wide-eyed look, “You remembered all five of those words?”

Adam wadded up his napkin and threw it at her.

She put up her hands in surrender, “I give, I give. An alpha particle’s a helium nucleus. Two protons, two neutrons, no electrons. If it did have electrons, it’d be a helium atom. If you squeeze an alpha particle into the nucleus of an atom, the nucleus burps up a proton, i.e. the ‘proton loss.’ Rutherford did this all the way back in 1919. He hit a nitrogen atom with an alpha particle. Nitrogen has seven protons and seven neutrons in its nucleus. Absorbing the alpha particle gave the nitrogen nucleus two extra protons, but it burped one up. So now it had one extra proton and two extra neutrons which made it the next atom in the periodic table, oxygen seventeen.” At the confused look on Adam’s face, she said, “Eight protons and nine neutrons for a total of seventeen nucleons. Oxygen has eight protons and its isotopes can have eight, nine, or ten neutrons.”

Adam stared at her for a moment, then said, “Let me look some of this stuff up. Then you can explain the rest of it.”

After they finished their lunch, Morgan went upstairs with Kiri to give her the Mace. As he did, he had a sudden thought. “There’s two in this blister pack. Do you mind if I keep one? In case… In case that big guy shows back up?”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll order two more so Adam and Lindl can carry them too.”

Morgan had a brief attack of conscience, wondering if he should be arming the family, even if it was with the rarely-lethal Mace. He gave her a nod, deciding he’d hate himself if he didn’t and they were subsequently attacked. It’d be crushing to realize they might have been able to protect themselves with pepper spray but he’d refuse to get it for them.

When Morgan got back downstairs, he found Adam intently focused on his laptop. “Hey, I’d really like to be there when Kiri explains this transmutation thing. Can you wait until dinner to ask her about it?”

Adam shrugged, “Sure.”

Morgan found his own laptop and settled down to learn more about transmutation himself.

***

Argo felt pretty uncomfortable. He didn’t like being sent out to this place to act as a spy. It would’ve been okay in town. Watching people or cops was a pretty common task Argo’d been assigned over the years. But, out here in the woods, it was a different story.

Dan made it sound simple. Park a quarter mile north of the Djai place. Walk into the woods uphill of the road and head south. Use the GPS in his phone to aim himself toward a spot uphill and a little north of the mine entrance.

When he was getting close, he was supposed to move slowly so nobody’d notice him. Then he was just supposed to sit out here all damned day, watching to see whether it looked like Djai was working his mine.

It hadn’t sounded all that bad. But now that he was out here, he was seeing a lot of poison ivy. It seemed like, when he detoured to avoid the poison ivy, he kept running into dense vegetation that was hard to push through. Also, it seemed like he was making an ungodly amount of noise—pushing through brush, stepping on dead sticks that broke, and swiping at bugs. He didn’t suppose the Djais had a guard or lookout watching over their mine, but Dan had emphasized that Argo was supposed to be stealthy.

He felt anything but.

He finally got to a location where he could see the area right in front of the entrance to the mine. There were several police vehicles parked there and a bunch of cops were standing around. That son of a bitch! he thought of Dan. No wonder he didn’t want to come up here and look around himself!

Argo thought about just leaving. But, now that he was in position, it seemed like he was more likely to attract the cops’ attention trying to leave then he was just sitting there like Dan asked him.

He settled into a patch of deep shade where he could watch through a narrow cleft in the leaves. He’d only been there about thirty minutes when a couple of guys came out the mine entrance carrying a stretcher. The stretcher bore a body covered by a sheet.

Rob, he thought with dismay. Dan claimed he didn’t know what happened to Rob. But, I’ll bet he did, Argo thought unhappily. He’s just covering his ass, hoping no one’ll figure out it was his fault. I’d better report this to Mr. Buckley, not just Dan.

He decided he’d definitely better not leave before the cops were gone. He really didn’t want them finding him out there spying on their murder investigation.

***

Morgan had just put the spaghetti in a pot of boiling water when he glimpsed movement out on the porch. A moment later, the doorbell rang. Drying his hands, he told Alexa to set a pasta alarm for nine minutes and went to open the door.

Detective Chatfield stood with a couple of uniforms behind him. “Hello Detective,” Morgan said, putting on a pleasant expression despite his persistent dislike of the man.

Chatfield took off his hat, “I’ve come to apologize for arresting your niece.”

Morgan gave him a nod, accepting the apology without saying something fatuous like “That’s okay.”

Chatfield sighed, “It turns out that being underground really gets on my nerves. But, I certainly shouldn’t have taken it out on your niece. I appreciate your forbearance.”

Morgan said, “Can you give us an update on what’s happening up at the mine?”

“Yes sir. We’ve found and removed the body of the second man. As your niece suspected, he’d fallen down that roped-off shaft. So far, we haven’t identified the first man or found a motive for their invasion of the mine. It might be that we just haven’t checked the right database yet, but it also could be because the quality of the images from those security cameras aren’t all that great.”

Morgan frowned, “What about a motive for killing my brother?”

“Um, we’re going on the assumption that the actual killing was an accident. We have no evidence to contradict your niece’s statement that the man’s gun went off when she struck him in the crotch. Of course, it may be that he intended to shoot your brother anyway, or was in the process of doing so when she hit him. Hopefully, when we find the guy, we’ll get a better understanding.”

Morgan nodded, “Okay.”

“Just a few more details,” Chatfield continued uncomfortably. “They should release your brother’s remains sometime this coming week…”

“Why did he die? Kiri said he got shot in the abdomen but I didn’t think people usually died from abdominal wounds. Or, at least when they did die, it took a long time.”

“Um, yeah. He did get shot in the abdomen, but the bullet ruptured the spleen, one of the organs in the abdomen. The spleen can bleed a lot.”

“Oh,” Morgan said, suddenly sad to realize Daryn had bled to death. And that he’d probably had time to realize the end was coming, “I see.”

“Um, we’d like to urge you to keep the mine locked at all times in order to protect the curious. Also, we’d strongly recommend you put a stout fence around that down-shaft so no one else falls into it.”

Morgan nodded, “Both good ideas. Are you done so we can lock it now?”

The detective nodded, “Yes sir. We’re done with the crime scene.” He stepped back, “Please give my respects to your niece and convey my apologies.”

As Morgan closed the door, Alexa started alarming. Adam and Lindl came down the stairs while Morgan was turning off the stove.

Lindl said, “That smells good. What is it?”

“Spaghetti sauce and garlic bread. I hope I didn’t use too much garlic.”

Lindl said, “Can’t put on too much garlic for me, but you might be able to make it too strong for Kiri. Can I help somehow?”

Morgan felt grateful that the teenager offered. He said, “I’d be glad of some help, but the police are done up at the mine and want to be sure we lock it up so nobody gets in and hurts themselves.” He looked at Lindl and Adam, “I know it’s a one-man job, but I’m still a little uneasy about the place. I’d prefer it if both of you went. Do you mind going together?”

“No problem,” Lindl said, “I’ll learn about cooking next time.”

“Hah!” Morgan said, “If you want to learn about cooking, next time I’ll call you when I start to cook.”

Lindl gave him a grin, “Probably a good idea. Since I’m shooting for the starving artist career track, it’d probably be a good idea if I started learning how to cook cheap stuff like spaghetti for myself.”

Morgan reached in his pocket and pulled out his canister of Mace. Holding it out, he said, “Here’s a little extra protection for you guys.”

Adam took it with him.

Kiri came downstairs and helped Morgan finish the salad and set out their dinner. Adam and Lindl got back just as everything was ready. They reported that the cops were gone and that they’d locked up the entrance.

“This’s awesome,” Lindl said around his first mouthful.

Morgan looked at Kiri, “Is it to garlicky for you?”

“No, I like it.” She grinned, “As long as I don’t have to sit next to any of you guys afterwards.”

Morgan looked at Adam, whose eyes were fixed on Kiri. He’s got it bad, Morgan thought.

Adam glanced around at everyone else, then focused back on Kiri, “Can we talk about transmutation again?”

She nodded.

Adam said, “So, I’ve been reading about it. What you described doesn’t work. I mean, it worked for Rutherford converting nitrogen to oxygen, but it doesn’t work with bigger atoms. In fact, when you get to atoms that are larger than iron, fusion no longer generates energy. Instead, it actually requires an energy input to fuse them. Fusion of bigger atoms is supposed to happen inside stars, and especially in supernovas, where there’s a lot of excess energy available, but you shouldn’t be able to do it in the lab.”

Kiri nodded again, “Correctamundo. Can’t happen.” She looked at Morgan, “Has that block of platinum disappeared now that its existence has been disproven?”

Adam raised his hands in surrender, “Sorry. You’re right. If that platinum was produced by transmutation, that’s pretty good proof that Uncle Daryn had a way to do it.”

Morgan looked at Kiri and said slowly, “How did you know it was platinum?”

She blinked, “Well, I guess I don’t. Dad said he was going to try to make platinum first and when you said that block of metal was in the right density range, I just assumed.” She tilted her head, “Is it platinum?”

Morgan nodded.

“How do you know?”

“We got a more accurate scale from Amazon and it’s the correct density for platinum. Also, it’s pretty soft. If it was a mixture of elements that are more and less dense it’d be extremely hard.”

Kiri frowned, “Soft? What do you mean by that?”

“We can cut it pretty easily with a file. Osmium, iridium, rhenium, and tungsten are all harder than the steel they make files out of.” Morgan shrugged, “Maybe there’s some way to make those elements soft that we don’t know about, but I doubt it.”

Kiri gave them an admiring glance, apparently impressed that they’d been able to prove it was platinum. Morgan felt oddly pleased. A glance at Adam suggested he felt pretty proud as well, but he covered it by saying, “So, how does he do it?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure, but he was working on the idea that he could get alpha particles to enter the nucleus via quantum tunneling.”

“Oh geez,” Adam said, rolling his eyes. “I think you just like rolling out obscure terms to make me feel stupid.”

Kiri laughed. Her eyes sparkling, she said, “It is an excellent side benefit. But, quantum tunneling’s a pretty important physical phenomenon. It’s responsible for the fusion of hydrogen into helium in the sun.”

“I thought fusion happened because of the huge amounts of pressure and heat from the sun’s gravitation. Doesn’t that just kind of smash the hydrogen atoms together until they fuse?”

“Kind of, but even as hot as the sun is and as much pressure as there is, hydrogen atoms still shouldn’t fuse. The pressure isn’t great enough to force their nuclei together against the natural repulsion that results from both nuclei being positively charged. But, what happens is that occasionally they ‘quantum tunnel’ past the barrier thrown up by the positive charges.” At Adam’s frown, she said, “I assume you know that at the really tiny sizes of the quantum scale, all kinds of weird things happen. Essentially atoms occasionally just show up on the other side of a barrier they shouldn’t be able to get past. They can even tunnel right through a piece of metal as long as it’s pretty thin. So, in the sun, you can think of it as hydrogen atoms just somehow showing up on the other side of the barrier created by the repulsion of the positive charges. Once they tunnel close enough to one another, they can fuse because the nuclear force which attracts them to one another even more strongly than the repulsion from their positive charges. But the nuclear force only attracts over very short distances so it won’t pull them in until they’ve gotten past the barrier. Tunneling doesn’t happen very often on a per atom basis, but there’s so many hydrogen atoms in the sun that it’s actually happening constantly.”

“Okay,” Adam said, “I remember reading something about that. But it shouldn’t happen with bigger atoms, or outside the sun, should it?”

“Correctamundo.”

Adam grinned, “So?”

“So, did you read about wave-particle duality?” On Adam’s nod, she continued, “So, if you think of our alpha particle as being a kind of tiny wave…” She tilted her head, “Did you come across any videos of pilot waves and walking droplets?”

Adam shook his head.

“The videos are easy to find on YouTube. Walking droplets are used as a way of visualizing the pilot-waves put forth in the de Broglie-Bohm theory. They’re a set of waves that surround a particle and guide its travels so it acts like a wave instead of a particle. Dad thought it was crazy to think of the particles as having some waves that traveled around with them as if they were waves in the ether,” she shrugged, “the ether having been disproved a long time ago. Instead he visualized atoms or alpha particles as actually being the waves you see around a walking droplet.” She shrugged, “I’m not so sure about that, because it doesn’t seem to fit with Rutherford’s gold foil experiment showing that particles can be deflected by the tiny and very dense nucleus of an atom. Anyway, Dad’s idea was that if the alpha particles were behaving like a wave they could be focused like a wave.”

Since Kiri had paused and Adam wasn’t interjecting a question, Morgan said, “How do you focus particles?”

“Think of them as wavicles. We’re mostly interested in their wave properties.”

“Wait, I understand how you can focus light by passing it through a lens, but alpha particles won’t even go through a sheet of paper.”

“Ah, not by passing them through something. He was using something more like beamforming. They use beamforming in radar and even in the new models of Wi-Fi. In the original radars, they turned the entire antenna to point the beam different directions. Nowadays they can steer the radar beam by emitting it from a lot of little transducers. If one transducer emits a little bit earlier than the one next to it, the beam tends to be bent a little bit away from the first emitter and toward the second one. If you have a whole bunch of emitters and the ones near the edges emit before the ones in the center, it focuses their emissions toward the center.”

“But even if had a whole bunch of radioactive alpha particle emitting isotopes, you wouldn’t be able to control when they emitted their particles.”

“Well, no. What he was doing was ionizing helium to separate the electrons from the nucleus and then accelerating the helium nuclei. He’d found a way to make them kind of travel in register like the photons coming out of a laser. The idea was that he’d focus them so that huge numbers would hit the target atoms in register at a tight focal point.”

Adam said, “And something about that’s supposed to make the alpha particles quantum tunnel past the nuclear repulsion?”

“There’s a theory,” Kiri said slowly, “that a focused wave front at just the right wavelength and energy could exponentially increase tunneling.”

Morgan frowned at the implausibility of it. Wanting to be able to look the theory up, he asked, “Whose theory is that?”

Kiri shook her head, “A friend of his. It’s not published, but Dad looked it over and agreed the math worked.”

“Who’s this friend?”

She shook her head again, shooting a warning glance at Lindl, “Dad asked us not to tell anyone. Besides, what’s it matter? Obviously it works.”

Frustrated, Morgan clenched his teeth for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “We’ll go up and look at his set up tomorrow afternoon or Wednesday. If it works, I guess the math must work too.” He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Do you have a copy of this theory that Daryn based everything on? I have a friend who’s a particle physicist. I’d love to have him look it over and see what he thinks of it.”

Kiri gave Morgan a dubious look, “What’s to keep your buddy from taking out a patent on Dad’s idea?”

Morgan opened his mouth to say that he trusted his friend, then remembered how he’d trusted the friends who’d built Matilda with him. Instead, he said, “Your dad didn’t submit a patent?”

Kiri shrugged, “Maybe? He said he was going to when he first succeeded in synthesizing tiny quantities. But, I don’t know if he actually did it.”

“I’ll look through the files he had stored on his computer. If he submitted a patent, presumably there’ll be some evidence of it.”

Tuesday morning

Morgan dropped Adam off at Jerry’s house so Adam could leave his suitcase at his friend’s place instead of trying to take it to school.

That done, he met Roger at the waffle shop for breakfast. Roger greeted him by saying, “I know you’ve had a lot of other things to think about, but have you been keeping up with what’s happening on Matilda?”

“No, not so far. Is anything going on?”

“Apparently they’ve been having a lot of trouble with her. She’s been down for a bunch of multi-hour periods over the weekend.” Roger leaned across the table and whispered, “Was that your doing?”

Morgan slowly shook his head, “No. I didn’t even know they’d had trouble. Do they know what the problem is?” Because he’d dealt with various kinds of Matilda problems for years, Morgan’s mind was already considering possible causes.

Roger shook his head and settled back into his seat. “Seems to me that whoever bought her might not have been as ready to take over as they thought.” He lifted an eyebrow, “I’ll bet somebody’ll be calling you for help pretty soon. I hope you don’t give them any assistance without insisting they change that damned contract back.”

Morgan pursed his lips in thought. “Whoever’s running it, surely they’ve got some really smart programmers who’ll figure out the problem pretty quickly.” He quirked a little smile, “But it’d be really great if they needed help so badly I could renegotiate our contract.”

After breakfast, Morgan took Roger’s $10,000 check to the credit union and established checking, savings, and credit card accounts. Since they’d have to mail him the credit card, he took out several hundred dollars in cash to buy gas and groceries while they waited for it to arrive.

He met with the manager of his retirement fund and signed papers that enabled him to be able to make early withdrawals.

He stopped by the house. To his great relief Arlette wasn’t home. Even better, she hadn’t changed the locks. He got out a large suitcase and packed it full. He was about to leave when he realized that he might not get another chance this good. He went back in the house and threw a sheet on the bed. He cleaned out his drawers and his side of the closet. Picking up the sheet by the corners, he took it out and put it in the trunk of the car. Getting another small suitcase, he wandered around the house grabbing other items that meant something to him, but nothing to Arlette.

He wondered whether he should take any more of Adam’s stuff, but decided that cleaning out Adam’s room would make it obvious Adam didn’t intend to return. That might cause more trouble than it was worth with Arlette.

Morgan got back on the road to Asheville at 1:30 in the afternoon, much later than Morgan had hoped. He sent Lindl and Kiri a text to tell them he’d be home later than expected.

Tuesday afternoon

When Kiri got in Lindl’s car for the drive home from school, she said, “I need you to take me to the police department.”

Lindl put the car back in park. “What’s happened?”

It took Kiri a second to realize Lindl thought Chatfield was after her again. “No, nothing’s happened. It turns out that, during the summer, they hold a women’s self-defense course on Tuesday afternoons. It starts today.” She gave him a wry grin, “Due to recent events, I thought I’d avail myself of it.”

Lindl snorted, “Okay. You got the message that Uncle Morgan wouldn’t be back until 5:30 or 6:00?”

Kiri nodded. “I can take an Uber if you can’t get me.”

“I’ll be there. When’s it over?”

Sgt. John O’Neill looked out over the gaggle of women who’d showed up for the self-defense course. As usual, they were all types. Fat, thin, tall, short, timid, intense and everything in between. After making his introductory remarks he launched into a description of common sense ways to avoid the need to defend themselves by being safe. He talked to them about common household items and objects which might be used as weapons to equalize an unequal fight. He finished with suggestions about what they might wear to the next class when they’d be practicing combat techniques.

When he asked for questions, one of the intense ones, a slender young girl with blue eyes and short black hair, raised her hand. She wore all black except for a bright pink belt. When he called on her, she said, “Sorry, but could you at least teach us one thing today? Some technique we could use in a fight?”

O’Neill chuckled, “You meetin’ another kid behind the schoolhouse at five?”

She didn’t smile, “No, but on Thursday a man attacked me and killed my father. I couldn’t do anything to prevent it.”

O’Neill felt his smile crash, I’ve managed to forget again that some of these women have absolutely awful reasons for being in this class—not just paranoia. “I’m so sorry…” he began, then stumbled when he couldn’t think of what else to say.

She said, “So am I. But I’d ask you not to worry about how I’m feeling. Instead, please teach me something about fighting today. I’d like to feel like I’m already just a little more prepared to face something like that if it happens again.”

O’Neill swallowed, “Okay. I find that sometimes discussing an actual event provides the best learning experience. Would you be able to describe what happened with this guy? Maybe I could make some suggestions about what you could do if you ever find yourself in a similar situation?”

Unhesitatingly, she got up and walked up to him. Standing just in front and to his left, she faced away from him and said, “He caught me by surprise, throwing his left arm around my neck. Then he immobilized my arms by wrapping his right arm around me.”

“Would it be okay if I held you in a similar fashion? I’d immediately let go if you asked me to.”

She nodded.

Concerned about reactivating some kind of psychic trauma, he cautiously put his left arm around her neck. She seemed okay with that, so he put his right arm around her body, grabbing her left elbow and immobilizing her right arm beneath his own elbow. “Is this okay?” he asked, still worrying that being similarly trapped might frighten her.

“Yeah. This guy was bigger than you and holding me a lot tighter, but otherwise this was my situation.”

“Okay, one of the things you’ve got to consider’s whether you actually do want to try to hurt him. You’ve got to consider the possibility that if you do it might make him angrier and more likely to hurt you. Assuming you make the decision to fight, there are a number of things you might have been able to do, even with your arms trapped. First, you might stomp down onto the tops of his feet.”

“I tried kicking back at his legs,” she said, “but I couldn’t seem to land the kicks with enough impact to stop him.”

“Another possibility would be to pull your chin down and try to bite a piece out of his forearm where it was wrapped around you.”

She turned her head into the corner of his elbow, then lowered her chin and turned back, placing her mouth against the inside of his forearm. She lifted her head and said thoughtfully, “That might’ve worked.”

“If you do it, bite hard. Bite like your life depends on it and you really want to take a chunk out.”

“At one point, he let go with his right arm. I hit him in the crotch. That made him let me go, but it didn’t incapacitate him. Was there something I could have done that would’ve stopped him completely?”

“Without a weapon, disabling a really big guy that’s got a grip on you like that would be very difficult. You might’ve tried to drive your right elbow back into his solar plexus…” O’Neill used his right arm to bend her right elbow into position and show her how she could punch back with it to strike him in the gut. “Or, if you’re flexible, you might’ve been able to twist and strike back with your elbow into his face…” Again, he took her arm through a possible motion.

He let go of her neck and stepped back. “I think that’s enough for today. I’ll see you guys next Tuesday.”

Kiri got home at 4:30. Wanting to check her dad’s project rooms, before her Uncle Morgan got back, she dropped off her backpack and trotted up the hill to the mine. Unlocking the entrance gate, she got out her phone as she started down the tunnel. She clicked an icon that linked through the mine’s Wi-Fi. It let her control the modified railcar that carried the slab of rock that closed off the hidden side tunnel. By the time she got to the side tunnel, the railcar had backed up three feet, pulling away the section of the wall that plugged the hidden opening.

She slipped through the narrow opening and double tapped the icon to close the wall. She ignored the first room and stepped into the second room—the one where her dad had built the alpha capture setup. She immediately saw he’d had been making a transmutation run the day he’d died. All the equipment was still turned on, though it had gone into standby mode. The computer that controlled everything was still booted up. Stepping over to it, she saw he’d been making iridium when he’d been interrupted.

She paused for a moment, wondering whether she should try to back up any important files onto her jump drive. She decided to only backup the settings for the current run. The computer itself was encrypted so no one else should be able to get any information out of it. Even if someone did steal or destroy the computer, she already had her own copies of all the files concerning the basic principles. She also had all her dad’s design files. Once she’d copied the settings, she moused to the shutdown icon and clicked it. While the computer was shutting down, she went around the room turning off all the equipment. She paused at the condenser when she realized how much iridium it contained. It was set up to solidify the molten iridium into a three-centimeter by three-centimeter bar that had a cross-section of nine square centimeters.

The bar was 6.77 centimeters long which would mean—at 22.65 grams per cubic centimeter—it’d weigh about 1380 grams. A tiny bit more than three pounds. That’d be about $61,000, she thought. Wow!

Movement caught her eye. She looked up at the monitor that displayed the intake from the security cameras.

A chill came over her as Kiri recognized the guy who’d killed her dad.

She tensed, thinking about how helpless she’d felt when the man had grabbed her last week. How she’d lost her sense of competence. Instead of feeling like she could handle any crisis, she’d felt like her mind had gone off the rails.

She’d felt helpless and she’d hated it.

Now she was feeling the same way again.

With a curse, she forcefully told herself to snap out of it.

Lifting the iridium bar, she took it with her as she went into the first room. She laid the bar on a shelf with some other metal bar stock, hoping it’d look unimportant. Looking over the other supplies on the shelf, she picked up a two-foot length of one-inch steel pipe and a drum of three-conductor wire. As she left the room, she grabbed a combo plier/wire-cutter out of the tool chest. Then she pulled out her phone and hit the icon that’d open the door into the tunnel.

Out in the tunnel, she made sure the hidden door closed tightly and that she couldn’t see the crack around it. Turning right to go deeper into the mine she dialed 9-1-1. Am I crazy to leave the research rooms? she wondered. She’d have been safe in those rooms, but when the cops arrived they’d want to know where she was and she didn’t want anyone to find out about her dad’s special rooms.

A voice spoke on her phone, “Hello, what’s your emergency?”

***

Dan avoided the road up to the mine by coming in through the woods like Argo had. He was glad Argo’d mentioned all the poison ivy. He wasn’t in the habit of looking for it, so he’d probably have cruised right through it without the warning.

When he came within sight of the mine entrance, he stopped and watched for a bit. If the cops still had someone there watching the entrance, he didn’t want to amble right in. Dan couldn’t actually see the entire entrance area from his location on the side of the hill. Some of it was hidden by the cut in the rocks. He gave it a few minutes in hopes anyone who might be hanging around the entrance would move enough to come into view.

He was just about to stand up and start walking down the side of the hill to the entrance when a girl came walking up the road. He immediately wondered if she was the same one he’d grabbed that night in the tunnel—Djai’s daughter. She was thin, which fit. This one’s hair was really short, but in the dark, and with a lot of other things on his mind, he hadn’t noticed the length of Djai’s daughter’s hair.

The girl walked right up to the entrance and a moment later Dan heard the big metal door creak open.

Deciding that it’d be best to wait until she left, Dan settled in to wait. However, as he sat waiting he began to have second thoughts. He remembered the huge padlock that’d been hanging on the hasp when he’d first got there with Rob. If the mine was normally locked up, now might be the only time he could get in the door for a look-see.

Besides, depending on how extensive the tunnels were, it might not be that easy to figure out where Djai’d been getting the platinum. But if the girl was his daughter and she was going in to check on Djai’s project, Dan could follow her right to the thing he was looking for. Of course, he thought with some frustration, she might already be so deep inside that I won’t be able to see her light.

He got up and started down the hill anyway.

When he came around the face wall to the mine entrance, he was happy to see the door stood ajar. The opening was big enough for him to squeeze through without moving the door and thereby making a lot of noise. He stepped up close and peered through the opening. He could see the little lights on the ceiling of the mine, but didn’t see any moving or bobbing lights to suggest someone walking with a flashlight.

Dan stepped through the opening and walked about twenty feet deeper into the mine. He didn’t turn on his flashlight, trying to preserve his night vision so he’d see the girl more easily. He stood quietly for a bit, then started moving deeper into the mine. He tried to walk quietly, but the crunching of the rocks under his boots seemed like it probably carried.

When he got past the first gentle curve, Dan saw a light bobbing in the tunnel, just like he had the first time he’d entered and gotten past that point. The first time, the light had been Djai coming towards him. This time the light, hopefully the girl, seemed to be moving away. He felt a little surprised because he’d thought she’d be much deeper in the mine by now. Maybe she came back out for something, he thought. Or maybe she stopped to work on something?

He paused to let her get a little further away before he resumed walking. She disappeared around another bend about the time he went beyond the lights on the ceiling of the tunnel. He resisted the strong temptation to turn on his flashlight. Remembering the down-shaft Rob had been shoved into along the left side of the tunnel, Dan put out a hand to follow the right wall.

He felt like he’d walked a long way without seeing even a faint flash of light from the girl’s flashlight. If I come to a side tunnel, I’ll stop in it and wait to catch the girl when she leaves.

As he continued walking he recognized the problem with that plan. If she slips past me and actually leaves, I could get locked in this hellhole! He’d brought a jacket this time, but he’d still hate to be locked in. What if I’ve already missed a tunnel that she turned into on the left? She could’ve come back out of that tunnel and be on her way back out to the entrance right now. I wouldn’t even know it. Thinking back to all those uncomfortable hours in the mine the first time, Dan started to have serious misgivings. He was just about to turn around and start back to the entrance when he realized he could see a faint light ahead.

He kept walking. As he got closer to the light he realized it was stationary and the same color as the girl’s flashlight. He felt a tremendous sense of relief that she hadn’t gotten past him toward the entrance. She’s stopped to do something, he thought. Could that be the spot where Djai got the platinum? he wondered, picturing the girl up there on her hands and knees, scraping platinum nuggets out of some kind of mother lode.

Dan slowed way down, hoping to reduce the crunching sound of his boots. He wondered if he could mark this location so he could find it again if he returned to the mine to get his own platinum.

Suddenly, the wall of the tunnel dropped away from his hand on the right. He stopped, realizing that he was passing a side tunnel but that the girl and her light were ahead in the main tunnel. It might even be the side tunnel I was standing in when I grabbed the girl that night, he realized. He also recognized that, since it was the first side tunnel on the right, it was a perfect landmark to locate the spot where the girl was doing whatever she was doing up ahead.

I could go back out to the entrance, steal the padlock so she can’t lock it back up, then come back in here after she’s gone. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the girl, but it’d be so much simpler to come in and collect some platinum when there wasn’t anyone here to cause a hassle. Besides, after her dad died in here, if I hurt the girl, they’ll lock this place up so tight I’ll never get back in.

Dan wondered whether he could get close enough to see what the girl was doing without alerting her. Not worth the risk, he thought, starting to move backward.

A light flashed on just to his right. As he turned he saw a shadowy figure behind it.

Something flashed into the light coming toward his face.

He recognized a hand, holding something.

A spray hit his face.

Agony exploded.

Dan was on his hands and knees, coughing and desperately wiping at his eyes. He’d pulled up his T-shirt and was doing his best to use it to wipe the burning stuff off his face. He felt the girl—by then he’d figured out that it’d been the girl with some kind of pepper spray—doing something behind his back.

Dan reached back and batted at her. Irritatedly, she said, “You want another shot of Mace?”

His heart started pounding at the thought of it. He croaked out a “No.”

“Then don’t mess with me.” Distantly, he thought she sounded just as young as he’d thought. But tough. He remembered her punching him in the balls. A tough little bitch, he thought.

From the shifting sensations at the small of his back, he realized she was taking the gun out of his holster. Dammit! he thought.

She’d moved down to his feet and was screwing around with something down there. He tried to move his ankles apart, but they were immediately jerked back together. She’s tying me up?! Why would she even have the stuff to tie me up with? She couldn’t possibly have known I was coming!

The girl and her light walked away down the tunnel. Dan rolled onto his side and felt down at his ankles. They were bound together with what felt like extension cord wire. He tried to pick at it, but she’d put the knot behind his ankles where he could barely reach it. The knot felt really tight, like he’d never get it undone. Besides, he couldn’t stop wiping at his face and eyes.

The light returned. It was much brighter now. He realized that she’d used a cell phone light to attack him and tie him up. Now she’d gone and got the big flashlight she’d used as a decoy. She turned it on his face and the brightness hurt his highly sensitized eyes. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“None of your business,” he choked out.

“Ah, but I think it is,” she said getting up and walking around behind him. She started patting him down. She reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “And, if you didn’t want me to know, you probably shouldn’t have brought your wallet with you.” After a moment, she said, “Dan Norwood, huh?”

Dan gritted his teeth, then put on a regretful tone, “Hey, look Miss, I’m sorry about all this. Real sorry. If you’ll just let me go, I promise you’ll never see hide nor hair of me again.”

“You know, Dan, it’s only been five days since the first time you visited our mine. That time you killed my dad. Yet here you are, back again. Somehow I’m thinking you probably aren’t the most trustworthy guy.”

“That was an accident! If you hadn’t punched me in the balls, it wouldn’t’ve ever happened!”

“Uh-huh. And why’d you feel it necessary to threaten me with harm if my dad didn’t come to you? And why’d you have your gun out? Is that just the way you normally greet people?”

“I wouldn’t’ve ever been down here ‘cept I work for some real bad people. My boss told me I had to figure out where your dad was getting’ the platinum. If I don’t come back, they’ll just send someone a lot meaner ‘n me.” He paused for a moment, but when she didn’t say anything, he continued, “I’d urge real strong that you let me go. I’ll do my best to negotiate a deal with the boss that lets you keep a good share of whatever you produce.”

She tsk-tsked. “Now Mr. Norwood, just a minute ago you were promising me I’d never see hide nor hair of you if I let you go. Now you just told me that once you’re gone, the big bad bogeyman’s going to come and hurt me worse. And, then you let me know that the best you plan to do for me is to negotiate me a deal that’s bad, just not as bad as it might’ve been. Seems like I’d do a lot better turning you over to the police. Maybe they can figure out who those ‘real bad people’ are and put them somewhere where they won’t hurt anybody, much less me.” She got up and walked around to the front side of him. “Put your wrists out here for me.”

Realizing she intended to tie up his wrists, Dan jerked his hands back away from her. “No goddamn way I’m lettin’ you tie my hands!”

“Now, now Mr. Norwood. I am gonna tie up your hands. The only question’s whether I’m gonna have to give you another shot of Mace first or not.”

Suddenly Dan realized that he actually wanted her trying to do something with his hands. He slowly put them back out, as if he was reluctant. She slipped a loop over his left wrist and reached out in preparation for wrapping the wire around his right wrist, but as she reached out, he grabbed her left wrist with his right hand. As he’d expected, her wrist was slender enough for him to get a solid grip on it. He started to pull her closer, reaching out with his left hand and feeling victory in reach.

Suddenly, she surged toward him. Dan’s initial thought was that his grip on her right wrist was painful and she was getting closer to relieve the pressure.

Then her elbow slammed into his already inflamed nose.

Dan arched back, trying to get away from any follow-up blows. Nonetheless, she viciously smacked what felt like the palm of her hand into the middle of his face. The bitch twisted her wrist out of his loosened grip. Then she leapt away from him.

At first, he thought she was just trying to get away. Despite the agonizing pain in his mid-face, he surged after her, grabbing for an ankle or any other part of her he might use to get control of the situation. He couldn’t crawl, because his ankles were tied together, but he kicked out off of them like he was diving.

The sudden jerk on his ankles told him that she’d not only tied his ankles together, she’d also tied them to the rails. His face slammed into the dirt as he reached the end of the short wire.

He hadn’t been able to catch himself and protect his face because she was pulling hard on the wire loop around his wrist. He tried to jerk her back towards himself by the wire, but evidently she’d hooked it around something because he couldn’t budge it. Sounding completely unworried, she said, “Okay, I won’t tie your wrists together. Just stretch that left one out here a little farther.”

Realizing she wanted to tie him to the rails with his body stretched into full extension, he jerked back on his wrist. It still didn’t budge.

“Now, now. Stretch on out here or I’m going to have to give you another dose of Mace. I know you don’t want that. After all, you’ll only have one hand to wipe at your face with.”

Dan’s eyes were watering so badly he could only see her as an indistinct blur. Something was running out of his nose. He wiped at it with his hand. Even in the dim light he could see it was bright red. She probably broke my nose! he thought.

He realized she was coming closer.

Her hand reached out toward him.

He made a flailing grab at it with his free right hand, but missed.

She sprayed his face again.

Dammit! he thought as agony surged through him again.

Dan was flailing around, grabbing gravel and throwing it in her general direction and thinking there was no way a skinny little girl like her could possibly win a fight with him, when he realized that every time he stretched a little bit she was cinching the wire that held his left wrist. He was already stretched out full length. He jerked hard on the wire, thinking he should be able to break it. It felt like it might’ve broken the skin on his wrist, but he didn’t gain any slack.

She said, “That wire’s really cutting into your skin. I’m going to tie your wrists to the rail with another wire. The new one won’t have a noose that cuts off your circulation.”

Dan felt her start to pass a second wire around his left wrist. He grabbed for her with his right-hand. Since he was lying, stretched full-length on his right side, he had to twist to get the right arm out from under him and that slowed him down. Besides, he couldn’t see worth a damn. The light was dim and his eyes were watering so he completely missed his grab. But then he felt a wire settle around his right wrist. Mere seconds later it had noosed down, pulling his wrist hard against the rail.

About ten minutes later she’d bound his right wrist to the rail right in front of his face. She made a bunch of loops around the rail and his wrist, then wrapped more wire around the loops between the rail and his wrist tightening the loops sufficiently that he knew there was no way for him to get his hand out of it—though he’d certainly try if she gave him an unguarded moment. Then she loosened the noose on that wrist. She moved up and bound his left wrist in the same fashion. She bound it where it was, stretched out, far above his head. As she did it, she calmly explained, “I’m leaving your right hand down there in front of your face so you can wipe at the Mace. Your other hand’s tied way up here so your two hands won’t be close enough to each another for you to be able to untie yourself.” She paused, then continued, “Now I know this’s all pretty uncomfortable. I imagine you agree with me that it’s no more than you deserve, but, I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble until I can go back up the tunnel and use my cell phone to check in with the police. I called them when you first came in the mine and I’m thinking they should’ve been here by now.

“Unless they got lost.”

The girl just stood there for a couple of moments, Dan suspected she was trying to think whether she’d missed anything. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of weaknesses in her plan. He was still resignedly wiping at his face with his fingers. She squatted down next to him and said, “Would you like me to cut a little section out of your shirt for you to use as a rag?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Dan nodded.

She walked around behind him and pulled up his jacket in back. She worked at his shirt for a few minutes with what he thought must be some kind of little knife. It seemed like she was taking an unnecessarily large piece of his shirt, but he didn’t say anything. When she walked back around to the front of him, she handed him a piece that must’ve been no more than six inches by six inches. She said, “I have another piece of your shirt here. After I talk to the police, I’ll see if I can get it wet. I read that you’re supposed to use milk on capsaicin, but I won’t be able to get any of that.” She picked up the flashlight, turned and strode away.

Leaving Dan in the doubly-damned dark.

***

Deputy Williams was just starting to ease the mine entrance door open when his radio went off. The dispatcher said, “Are you at the mine yet?”

“Yeah, Terry and I are just starting in.”

“Detective Chatfield says you won’t have comms very deep in the mine. He says you should wait until you’ve got enough backup to send a lead party of four into the tunnels while still leaving someone behind every so far to relay radio signals back out to the entrance.” There was a moment’s pause, then the dispatcher came back and said, “He also says to remember the perp’s armed. You should wear all your protective gear and proceed with extreme caution.”

“What about the girl? He’s probably caught her by now.”

“Um, the girl just called us. She claims she captured the perp and tied him up.” The dispatcher cleared her throat, “Um, Chatfield says that’s beyond ridiculous.”

“Okay,” Williams said. “Proceeding with all caution.” They had six deputies, so he took three and started down the tunnel with plans to leave one at the entrance and another wherever the radio faded out.

They’d just started to go around a slight bend in the tunnel, when someone appeared, walking toward them. Terry had drawn his weapon before they all realized it had to be the girl. She was hard to see. She was wearing all black and had black hair, so at first only her face was visible. She said, “Thank you for coming. Let me take you to Mr. Norwood.” She turned and started walking deeper into the tunnel. She spoke back over her shoulder, “I’d recommend you stay on the right. If you’re not careful, there’s a down-shaft you could fall into on the left.

Williams looked at Terry. They both shrugged at one another then followed. “Um, Miss, is that Dan Norwood?”

She nodded, “That’s what his driver’s license says.” She turned and held out a wallet and cell phone.

Williams took the proffered objects and passed them back to one of the deputies behind him. He glanced at Terry again, then said, “Uh, Dan Norwood’s pretty well known to the police. He’s kind of a hard case.”

She nodded without looking back, “I certainly think he’s a hard case. He killed my dad last Thursday.”

Williams blinked, then spoke quietly, “Sorry, I didn’t know.” After a brief silence he said, “Dispatch said you had Norwood tied up?”

“I do. I don’t think he can get loose, but the sooner we get back there, the better I’ll feel.”

“Detective Chatfield passed along a message that Norwood would be armed?”

The girl nodded again, “He was. I took it away from him.”

“Where’s the weapon?”

“I hid it down near where he’s tied up.”

Unable to keep the concern out of his voice, Williams said, “So, if he has managed to untie himself, he may be armed again?”

She shrugged, “I doubt it. It’s about thirty feet away and he doesn’t have a light. It’s so dark in the tunnel he’d probably have a hard time finding his ass with both hands.”

Despite his concern over her cavalier attitude, Williams couldn’t help a little snort of laughter. However, once they got past the section where there were lights in the roof of the tunnel he began to realize just how dark it was in the depths of the mine. They couldn’t really see anything beyond the reach of their flashlights.

After walking quite a distance she moved to the side of the tunnel and pointed her flashlight down. They saw Norwood lying there. He’d been bound to the rails that ran along the floor of the tunnel. His ankles were tied together with wire and then more wire bound the ankles to the rail. He’d been stretched out full-length along the rail. His left hand was tied to the rail as far above his head as he could reach. His right hand had been tied right in front of his face.

Norwood flinched away when Williams shined a flashlight in his face. “What the hell happened to him?” Williams asked. Even a brief glance had shown him the man’s upper face was bright red. His eyes and nose were running and there was blood all over his lower face. Williams wondered if the girl had abused him once he was helpless.

“Mace,” the girl said matter-of-factly. She bent down and put a piece of wet cloth in Norwood’s right hand. As Norwood wiped at his face with the rag she continued, “Even after he’d been Maced, he grabbed me by the wrist. In the process of getting him to let me go, I hit him in the nose with my elbow… Well, and also with my palm.” She shrugged, “I guess I gave him a bloody nose.”

“She attacked me,” Norwood said nasally, “unprovoked.”

Williams was squatting down to check Norwood out. He looked up at the girl. Calmly, she recited, “Last Thursday, Mr. Norwood entered this mine and attacked my father. His attack was documented on security camera recordings. My father got away from him, but then Mr. Norwood captured me. He held me hostage and used threats against my person to force my father to come to him. I made an effort to escape, during which time Norwood shot and killed my father. When the police investigated and searched the mine, he eluded them for several days. Concerned that he might return, I ordered some Mace. Today, as I’d feared, he did return to the mine. He followed me all the way back to this location. Since his malign intent was well-established, and in fear for my life, I did preemptively attack him with the Mace. In fear for my life, and thinking it unlikely I could win a fight, I felt that I had to disable him before he could attack me. Once he’d been disabled, I tied him up in order to hold him for you guys in law enforcement. While I was tying him, it turned out that the Mace had not adequately subdued him and he grabbed my wrist with evident intent to force me to release him. That’s when I attacked him.

“I would submit that I was adequately provoked.”

Williams looked over at Terry, astonished by the unemotional and precise description the girl had just given of what must have been a traumatic encounter. He shook his head, “You’d already called 9-1-1. Why didn’t you just wait for us to get here?”

She gave Williams a disbelieving look, then responded patiently. “He was herding me deeper and deeper into the tunnels. The tunnel system of this mine is extensive and confusing. Despite searching these tunnels Thursday night and all day Friday, the police were unable to find Mr. Norwood. In light of these facts, I didn’t feel it’d be prudent to let him keep pushing me deeper into the mine system where he might trap me and similarly elude another police search.” She shrugged, “So, I took a proactive approach.”

Having listened to hundreds of hysterical descriptions, explanations, and justifications in his career, Williams found this calm, orderly presentation of a logical thought process almost impossible to believe. He raised his flashlight to the girl’s face thinking she must be some kind of weirdo. Later he’d remember how icily-calm her brilliantly-blue eyes looked. He shrugged and turned to the other deputies, “Let’s get him cut loose. It looks like we’re going to have to take him somewhere for medical attention.”

Williams found that Norwood was bound with the kind of flexible three-conductor wire that extension cords were typically made of. At each location, the knots in the wire were set so tightly he didn’t think they could be undone. Nonetheless they had been carefully located out of Norwood’s reach.

Fortunately, the girl had a pair of wire cutting pliers.

***

Morgan parked in his usual spot in front of the house before he noticed the red and blue flashing lights up by the mine entrance. What now? he wondered.

He locked the car and took the big suitcase in the house so he could get out his boots. After changing into jeans and boots, he headed up the road to the mine entrance. After threading his way through the police cars and past an ambulance he found Lindl standing there talking to a deputy. Lindl was saying, “Our guardian, my Uncle Morgan, should be here any moment. Would you like me to call his cell?”

The cop said, “Why isn’t he here?”

Morgan said, “I just arrived. What’s happened?”

“The guy that killed our dad came back,” Lindl said. “He chased Kiri pretty deep into the mine, but apparently she Maced him and tied him up.” Lindl waved at the ambulance, “They’ve got him over there, washing out his eyes right now.”

Astonished by the description, Morgan started toward the ambulance. The deputy who’d been speaking to Lindl grabbed him by the elbow. “Don’t go over there.”

Surprised, Morgan said, “Why not?”

“The guy attacked your niece. We don’t want you going over there and confronting or attacking him. Let the police and the courts deal with him.”

Though he really wanted to know what the guy looked like, Morgan decided that made sense. He turned and asked, “Where’s Kiri?”

Lindl pointed and Morgan saw Kiri talking to Chatfield over on the other side. He started that way, angry but restraining himself. As he approached, he said, “Hey, you shouldn’t be talking to her without my permission and without her lawyer present.”

Chatfield put his hands out palms outward, “She’s just a victim and a witness Mr. Djai. She’s not under suspicion or arrest. Nothing to worry about here.”

Morgan turned to Kiri, “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

She didn’t look upset and Morgan couldn’t see any evidence of injuries. “Has he asked you any uncomfortable questions?”

Kiri shook her head, “He’s been very nice this time, Uncle Morgan. Thank you for your concern.”

At this surprising politeness Morgan’s eyes jumped back to Kiri. Her eyes were twinkling…

Chapter Five

Wednesday morning

Lindl and Kiri were off to school. Morgan was drinking tea on the porch, looking out over the valley, and thinking. After the police had finished last night, Morgan had asked Kiri what she’d been doing up at the mine. She’d confessed that she’d gone up there to check on her dad’s equipment in the hidden rooms—which Morgan still hadn’t seen. She also admitted that she’d continued to keep the existence of the hidden chambers a secret from the police.

As far as they knew, she’d simply gone up to the mine to think about what’d happened to her dad. In fact, she’d Maced and tied up Norwood on the very spot where he’d grabbed her back on Thursday. She’d told the police she’d been carrying the wire with the thought of stringing power back to the spot where her father’d been murdered. She’d claimed she wanted to create a memorial for him.

To Morgan she admitted she’d seen Norwood coming into the mine on the security cameras. She’d specifically taken the wire and the wire cutting pliers so she’d be able to tie him up. Morgan wasn’t quite sure what to make of a fifteen-year-old girl who expected to be able to take down a large, unscrupulous man and, therefore, planned ahead for his immobilization.

“Why the hell didn’t you just stay in those hidden rooms? You’d have been perfectly safe in there.”

She’d narrowed her eyes, “I called the police so they’d come arrest that bastard.”

Morgan had nodded, “Sure. But you still could have stayed safe in those rooms.”

She lifted an eyebrow, “And when the cops showed up and asked where I was?”

Exasperated, he’d said, “Your safety’s more important than keeping the rooms a secret!”

She’d shaken her head, “I wasn’t in any danger.”

He wasn’t sure whether she was delusional or just unreasonably brave. He’d opened his mouth to point out the flaws in her argument, but then decided it wasn’t worth fighting about.

After all, All’s well that ends well.

But, he thought, taking another sip of tea, I’ve got to insist that she take me up to look through those secret rooms.

Thirty minutes later, Morgan realized he’d stopped thinking about Kiri and started daydreaming about Tilly Arvind. What’s my deal? It’s like I’m some kind of infatuated school kid. I barely know the woman. Sure, she’s attractive, but…

At 11:30, Morgan was driving to Arvind’s office. He had some kind of half-baked plan that he’d show up and say he’d wanted to pay his bill.

He couldn’t think of a good reason why he wanted to pay his bill before it arrived.

Or, why he felt compelled to pay it in person rather than mailing a check or providing a credit card number like any sane person would.

Or, how he was going to ask her to lunch. I’ll just have to wing it, he decided.

Like winging it’s something I’m good at, he thought derisively.

The entire drive to her office, he thought of more and more reasons why he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing. He pulled up in front of her building, parked, then sat leaning his forehead on the steering wheel. You can still go home without making an ass out of yourself— His train of thought was derailed by a tapping on his window. Did I park badly? he wondered, as he raised his head and turned to see who was tapping.

Tilly Arvind was looking in his window, concern writ large on her face. Another woman stood behind her. Feeling totally humiliated, he rolled down the window and brilliantly essayed, “Hello Ms. Arvind.”

She tilted her head worriedly, “What’s wrong?”

“Um, I was just thinking. A lot going on, you know?”

“Oh, good,” she said, but now she looked quite puzzled. “What are you doing here? Are the police causing more troubles for your niece?”

“Um, no. Though, the guy that shot Daryn showed back up at the mine and she had a little run-in with him.”

Arvind’s eyes widened, “Oh my goodness. Is she okay?”

Morgan nodded, not knowing what else to say.

Arvind said, “Are you here because… you… or Kiri need some kind of legal representation?”

“I… I was thinking I should pay my bill,” Morgan said, immediately realizing just how ridiculous that sounded.

The woman behind Arvind was getting fidgety. Arvind turned to her and said, “Margaret, why don’t you go on. I’ll finish up with Mr. Djai and see you back at the office after lunch, okay?”

The other woman nodded and moved away. Morgan seized on the fact they’d just talked about lunch as if it’d justify… “Could I take you to lunch? We could talk about…” He ran down when he realized he couldn’t think of anything they had any need to talk about.

Arvind gave him a grin, “Sure, that’d be nice. Where did you have in mind?”

Morgan thought about protesting that he’d just had the idea and didn’t have anything in mind, then realized he had an out. “I don’t know much about Asheville. Can you suggest a place?”

“Sure,” she said with a brilliantly white smile, walking around his car to the passenger door. Belatedly, he wondered if he should be getting out to open the door for her. He settled for leaning across and opening the door from the inside. She slipped in, making the process look elegant. “Exit the lot down to the left,” she said, waving that direction.

She directed him to a little café. It had an outdoor patio under a trellis draped in vines. As they walked in, she led the way, letting Morgan admire her slender waist. I’m really in deep, he thought to himself. His devil’s advocate reminded him, You barely know her.

The hostess gave them a table for two and Tilly waved Morgan into the seat that looked out over the city. It immediately reminded him of looking out over the valley from Daryn’s porch, though here he was looking at Asheville’s architecture, rather than trees. “The view’s amazing,” he said. “You should sit over here.”

She casually waved the suggestion away, “I’ve seen the view plenty of times. You should be the one to enjoy it.”

After they ordered drinks and perused the menu, she leaned forward and asked conspiratorially, “Okay, what did you want to talk about?”

Morgan desperately tried to think of something. Preferably something related to Kiri’s case. As he realized he couldn’t think of a single damned thing, he hoped his nervousness didn’t show.

Tilly frowned a moment, then broke into a broad smile that highlighted her white teeth against her olive skin. She said, “If you’re going to invite a lady to lunch, you probably should plan out at least one topic of conversation.”

Morgan realized she was fully aware that he was much more interested in her than any legal issue. As pretty as she was, she must have to fend off man’s attentions all the time. He felt his cheeks heating. I’m blushing like a schoolboy, he thought with dismay. “Um…”

She reached out and rested a hand on his, “It’s okay. Vic told me you were just starting the divorce process.” She arched an eyebrow, “Since Adam looks like he’s about seventeen, I’d venture that you haven’t invited a woman out to lunch for a decade or two.”

Morgan produced a jerky nod. With a twinkle in her eye, Tilly promptly started their conversation by beginning to extract his life history. Shortly she’d learned all about the breakdown between himself and Daryn, what’d happened to his relationship with Arlette and how they’d come to adopt Adam.

“So,” she said, “Kiri’s the only woman left in your family?”

With some surprise, Morgan realized he’d never thought of it that way. “That’s true…” he said slowly, “but really, there’s only the four of us, total. She and Lindl have a grandfather on their mother’s side, but he hasn’t seen them for years.”

“What’s his issue?”

Morgan shrugged helplessly, “I have no idea. I’m embarrassed to admit I haven’t even tried to reach him. I’d better put that on my ‘to do’ list.”

Tilly gave him a gentle nod, “Poor Kiri. She really is the only woman in your family.”

Morgan mustered a weak grin, “Are you giving me grief for ignoring the social graces a woman would’ve already attended to?”

“No, no.” She patted his hand gently, “You’re already dealing with too much grief.” After a moment’s pause, she gave him a little grin and said, “I’m giving you shit.”

The waiter brought their food right then, which gave Morgan an opportunity to muster his thoughts. When the waiter had departed, Morgan said, “I can’t believe you’re giving shit to a man in mourning.”

Her eyes crinkled, “We all need a little laughter, even when we’re in mourning.”

Morgan sniffed and lifted his chin, “Well then, you ought to try saying something funny.”

Tilly laughed so hard she had to wipe at her eyes. Morgan decided he really liked her. Not just for her looks but…

Wednesday afternoon

As they hiked up the road to the mine, Kiri looked over at her uncle. He’s in pretty good shape for someone his age, she thought. Despite all her suspicions—lingering from the fact that her father and her uncle hadn’t gotten along—she was finding she really liked Morgan. She thought he genuinely had her best interests at heart. Lindl’s too, of course.

She knew that good people lost their jobs for reasons beyond their control, but she hadn’t been able to avoid the feeling that a “software developer” who’d been laid off couldn’t be all that sharp. Just the fact that he called himself a software developer, rather than a programmer, suggested to her that he wasn’t even a good programmer. “Developer” suggested someone who “managed” real programmers.

But, she’d been quite impressed with his intelligence when they’d started talking about transmutation. He’d immediately seemed to know—in general terms—what they were talking about. Admittedly, he probably read up on the principles when Adam had called a break so Adam could study them, but she knew a lot of people wouldn’t have been able to gain his level of understanding even after taking a lot of time to do some reading.

In fact, she was impressed with how he’d come into an admittedly chaotic, situation, gotten to grips with it and dealt with issues logically. Maybe if he’s been managing programmers as a developer, he’s acquired some useful crisis management skills in the process, she thought.

As they arrived at the entrance to the mine, she glanced at him and said, “You know the combination?”

“1-0-3-1,” he replied promptly.

Not too shabby, she thought, then immediately wondered if he’d realized it was the date for Halloween. Which, if he did, she decided, wouldn’t be too shabby either.

As they walked down the tunnel into the mine, Morgan wondered just how deep in the mountains the hidden rooms were. And, of course, just where they were located that the police hadn’t found them after extensively searching the mine for perps.

He started to ask Kiri, but she had out her phone and was tapping on the screen. He found her distraction a little irritating, but had accepted that it was a generational thing. Kiri’s generation spent a lot of time buried in their phones. His generation thought focusing on your phone around others was rude. Her generation thought it was normal and that it was rude to complain about somebody being on their phone.

They’d gotten a little way past the gentle bend in the main tunnel when Morgan noted an opening in the right wall. “What the hell? There wasn’t an opening there when we came up here to look around on Saturday.”

He strode ahead, then slowed and leaned out into the main tunnel to peer around the edge into the opening. A large, irregular section of the wall had pulled back about three feet. The irregularity of its shape probably makes it hard to notice once it’s been fitted back into the wall of the tunnel, he thought. The opening exposed a large, though not tall chamber. Some rock pillars had been left in place here and there to support the roof. As he looked around, he noticed that, off to one side, the big chamber contained an entire little building set up on blocks. He glanced back at Kiri. She was watching him gape around with an amused expression on her face.

Stepping into the opening, Morgan walked around to the back of the withdrawn wall section. It was mounted on the front of a railcar that rode sloped rails down to the wall opening. A winch and cable arrangement had evidently pulled it up the slope to where it stood at present. From the length of the rails and cable, it could pull the wall section much further back if they needed a larger opening so they could move equipment in and out. He glanced at Kiri, “Why’s it open now?”

She held up her phone and waggled it. “I sent it a command over Wi-Fi.”

Glad he hadn’t bitched about her being distracted by her phone, he said, “That’s really cool!” Morgan noticed the building had three doors and made a deduction about what it contained. He waved at it, “Can you take me on a tour?”

She nodded and led him to the first door. Opening it, she waved him in. Morgan immediately recognized the room in the upper left security camera image. There was some equipment on the far side of the room, but the near side had shelves and tool chests. She said, “We mostly use this room to store supplies and tools.”

A few minutes later she had him in the third room—the one that’d shown in the upper right image from the security cameras. In person, it looked even more like a machine shop. Kiri indicated the equipment with a wave of her hand, “CNC machining, milling machines, lathes, EDM, metal printing, welding… You name it, Dad has…” she frowned, “…Dad had it. You wanted some exotic part, he could make it.”

Morgan looked around, “The basement workshop has a lot of the same stuff, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, the newer, more high-end stuff is up here.”

“Does Lindl know how to use this stuff?”

Kiri snorted, “Not a clue.”

Morgan looked at her, “Do you?”

She pursed her lips and looked around, “Some of it.” She gave a small sharp shake of her head, but made no further comment. “You want to see the middle room?”

Morgan nodded, “That’s where the alpha capture stuff is?”

With a small smile that looked like it contained a big dollop of pride, she waved and said, “Right this way.” She opened the door.

As Morgan had remembered from the security cam video, the middle room contained impressive looking equipment that he couldn’t even begin to identify. “What is all this stuff?”

Kiri patted a boxy structure, “Helium ionizer.” Touching a long, large diameter tube, she said, “This was Dad’s pride and joy. It’s where the alpha particles accelerate and come into register. Sometimes he called it the ‘alpha laser’ but mostly he called it a ‘iasar’ for ‘Ion Acceleration with Simultaneous ARrival.’” She pronounced it “yayser.” In an admiring tone, she said, “You can adjust the velocity, the wave frequency and density as well as the focal point.” She glanced at Morgan, “All of which are important adjustments if you’re going to hit the sweet spot for quantum tunneling.”

The tube was enclosed so Morgan had no more idea how it might work than he had a couple of days ago when Kiri first mentioned it. “And how does it work?”

Kiri shrugged, “I understand the theory, but I really don’t know how Dad reduced it to practice.”

“You understand the theory, but not how it actually works?” Morgan said slowly, without being able to hide the doubt in his voice.

Kiri shrugged again, “I’ll bet you understand how an internal combustion engine works… in theory. But I’d bet even more money that you don’t really know how to build one.”

Morgan gave a nod, granting the truth of her proposition. “Can you explain it to me at the same level that I understand internal combustion?”

Kiri squinted at the machine as if she was concentrating deeply. She shook her head, “I don’t think so. I don’t understand it all that well myself. Electrostatic forces accelerate the particles while an electromagnetic guide wave forces the waves to travel in register…” She glanced at Morgan, “Which requires you to think of them as particles when you’re considering how they’re accelerated and think of them as waves when they’re being lined up in register.” She waved at the big tube, “I think of it as containing thousands of smaller tubes, each with their waves in slightly different register. I don’t know if that’s how Dad really did it, it’s just how I think of it. In any case, they’re emitted slightly out of time with one another and that lets us focus them just like with beamforming.”

Morgan turned his gaze back to the big tube, thinking, I guess if it works, we could take it apart and try to reverse engineer exactly how it happens. He had a thought, But I’ll bet Daryn has some design drawings on one of his computers. He pointed at the structure at the end of the big tube. “What happens here?” Something about the structure gave him the impression that its steel-grey walls were thick.

“The magic happens there.” Kiri said with a grin, “Alpha capture with proton ejection. Our focused, in phase, precisely accelerated alpha wavicles strike our rhenium target in that chamber.”

Morgan’s brow wrinkled as he considered, “So, you’re adding one proton and two neutrons to the rhenium nucleus?”

Kiri nodded. “We thought it was going to generate some radiation, thus the setup in a mine. Turned out that it doesn’t, but the mine still provides a place where no one hears it running or asks any questions.”

“Ah,” Morgan said. “So rhenium jumps to osmium?”

“Uh-huh,” Kiri said. “It’s pretty interesting. Rhenium’s element seventy-five, in other words it has seventy-five protons. Thirty-seven percent of naturally occurring rhenium consists of the isotope rhenium-185—i.e. rhenium with seventy-five protons and 110 neutrons. Sixty-three percent’s rhenium-187 which has 112 neutrons. When you add a proton and two neutrons to those two isotopes you jump them one element to osmium which has seventy-six protons. You increase their atomic weight by three. Therefore, you get thirty-seven percent osmium-188 and sixty-three percent osmium-190. Both of those are stable osmium isotopes and osmium’s worth more than four times as much as rhenium, so you’ve already got a significant increase in value. Your isotope distribution isn’t what’s found in nature though. Only thirteen percent of natural osmium is osmium-188 and twenty-six percent is osmium-190. But, if you just keep hitting the osmium with alpha particles, the osmium’s going to jump to iridium which is the seventy-seventh element. Now you’ll have thirty-seven percent iridium-191 and sixty-three percent iridium-193. Surprisingly, thirty-seven percent and sixty-three percent are the correct distributions for the natural isotopes of iridium, so it’d be hard to tell that we’d artificially generated our product by transmutation. Iridium’s currently worth sixteen times more than rhenium, so the profit margin’s pretty good when you get to this point.”

“Wait a minute,” Morgan said, frowning. He felt grateful that he’d recently been studying that part of the periodic table while trying to determine what Daryn’s lump of metal was. “You make this sound neat and clean, but not every atom in your rhenium target’s going to arrive at iridium, then stay there. Some of them will get hit a third time to become platinum or a fourth time to become gold. At the same time, some of them’ll still be rhenium or will have only jumped once to osmium.”

Kiri nodded, “Yeah, you’d probably also have significant quantities that kept jumping until they became mercury, thallium, or lead. Then you’d have to do a lot of refining to separate out the elements you wanted. Worse, sixty-three percent of the gold would be gold-199. Gold-199’s radioactive and decays to mercury.” She lifted an eyebrow, “It’d be a mess.”

When Morgan looked over at her, she had a sly smile that suggested she had a solution for the problem she’d just described. “So, I’m assuming Daryn came up with a way out of the mess?”

She grinned, nodded and pointed at the steel-grey structure at the end of the accelerator. “There’s an induction furnace inside that tungsten chamber there. It heats the rhenium up to 4,200 degrees centigrade—”

“Whoa!” Morgan said, doubtfully. “What’s the melting point of tungsten?”

Kiri arched a surprised eyebrow, “Smart. Tungsten melts at 3,422 degrees centigrade, but the whole chamber’s not at 4,200 degrees centigrade. Only the area in the middle of the induction coil gets that hot. And, to play it safe, we circulate coolant through the coil and through the walls of the chamber.”

Morgan chewed his lip for a moment, pretending to think while actually trying to decide just how offended he should be to have a fifteen-year-old complementing him for being smart. Or was it a jibe? After a moment he decided to pretend she hadn’t said it. “So, you’ve got molten rhenium. That means your atoms are constantly moving around while you’re bombarding them with your alpha particles and converting some of the atoms to osmium. I get that. And then some of the osmium transmutes into iridium—” He paused to think but Kiri didn’t say anything. Finally, he slowly said, “I can see how molten metal with constant movement of the atoms in the melt would make it less likely that your beam of alpha particles would strike the same atoms twice. But it still seems, assuming alpha capture works on any atom, that some atoms are going to keep capturing and jumping up the scale with all the messy problems you brought up earlier. Maybe at a lower percentage, but—”

Kiri waited a beat, then she said, “Iridium boils at 4,130 degrees centigrade.”

“Oh!” Morgan said as he understood. “So, rhenium and osmium stay there in the melt until they get converted to iridium, then they boil away.” He looked at her, “I suppose a few atoms do get converted to platinum, but not that many, right?”

She nodded, “And virtually none transmute to gold.”

“Then you condense the iridium?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, “getting it to condense where you want it, instead of all over the walls of the chamber, that’s a huge hassle in its own right, but Dad had a real genius for figuring that kind of stuff out.” Kiri’s eyes got wistful.

Morgan, thinking of all the times Daryn had solved seemingly impossible problems, felt a frog forming in his own throat. He cleared his throat in an effort to be able to speak normally and moved their thoughts to something less bleak. Then he thought, We shouldn’t be trying to avoid thinking about Daryn. He cleared his throat again, but then spoke despite the tightness that remained, “Yeah, he was pretty amazing…” Morgan and Kiri were standing next to one another and he reached out to put an arm around her shoulders without thinking about her aversion to hugs. She leaned into him and turned her cheek into his chest, her shoulders starting to shake.

Morgan stood, holding his sobbing niece and avoiding the temptation to tell her it was going to be okay.

He didn’t really know how long it’d been when she lifted her face from his chest and wiped at her eyes. She sniffed, then said, “I miss him so much…”

“Me too— Shall we go back and make dinner?”

Kiri snorted, “We’d better, before Lindl’s stomach starts digesting his spine.”

***

After dinner, Morgan searched through Daryn’s files in hopes of finding a patent application. He quickly found a large folder loaded with subfolders full of patent materials. Some regarded existing patents, some were applications that’d been abandoned, and some were for applications that had been submitted, though not yet granted.

He spent a brief period trying to understand the abandoned patents. Some seemed to have been abandoned because the patent examiner regarded them to be non-novel over existing technology. Morgan got the impression that this was debatable and could have been argued, but that Daryn had not regarded the value of the patent to be sufficient to justify the additional legal costs. One of the patents had apparently been abandoned when Daryn realized that he couldn’t improve the efficiency of the technology like he’d expected.

Two of the patents that hadn’t been granted yet looked like they might provide an income stream for Daryn’s kids. However, Morgan realized that he might not know how to commercialize them. Daryn had a great deal of experience with commercialization of his ideas and it still didn’t look like he’d succeeded every time.

And finally, there were the patent applications for the transmutation technologies. They’d been submitted, but not granted. There was one for the alpha particle accelerator, another for alpha capture, and a third for Daryn’s method of condensing metal vapor.

Morgan had been under the impression that a patent precisely described how an invention worked. He was, therefore, surprised to see the technology described only in general terms. He thought this might be because you didn’t want the patent to be invalidated if someone used a slightly different method, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe having the actual fine detail of the method remain secret could represent another form of protection for the technology?

I’ll call the attorney listed on these patents tomorrow, he thought. She should be able to tell me whether it’s okay to talk to Satya. Morgan’s friend Satya was the particle physics expert he’d mentioned to Kiri.

Thursday morning

The kids had left for school and Morgan found himself sitting out on the porch. He was staring at the valley, drinking his coffee and thinking about Tilly Arvind. What’s my problem? he wondered. It’s only been a week since I separated from my wife. I’m in mourning for my brother. I’m newly responsible for my brother’s children. My life’s work at Matilda’s in shambles. And, I’m spending hours thinking about a woman I’ve only met twice! He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, I need to call that patent attorney.

Moments later, he found himself texting Tilly, “Do you know a patent attorney named Diane Carper? Is she any good?”

Tilly responded almost immediately, which Morgan considered a good omen. She said, “And here I was hoping you’d be inviting me to lunch again. But, yes, Diane’s very good. I like her.”

Morgan responded, “Lunch, yes! When? Where? Looking forward to it.”

He waited until he got those details from Tilly, then contacted Carper’s office in hopes of setting up a meeting either before or after lunch.

***

As instructed, Morgan took a copy of Daryn’s will to his meeting with Carper. Once she’d been assured of his bona fides, she expressed her sympathy for Morgan’s loss and her willingness to answer questions.

First, she believed that the three submitted patents regarding Daryn’s transmutation equipment would all be granted. There really wasn’t any similar technology out there. Second, she thought it’d be okay for Morgan to discuss the underlying theory with his friend the particle physicist, but recommended that he have his friend sign a nondisclosure agreement first. She had a boilerplate document for such an NDA. She quickly modified it to fit Morgan’s situation and printed out two copies. Third, she didn’t have any idea who’d developed the underlying theory. From the things he’d said, Daryn’d had incredible respect for whoever’d come up with the theory. Nonetheless, he hadn’t attributed any of the intellectual property of the patent to that person, nor ever mentioned his name to Carper.

Morgan left his meeting with the attorney feeling confident in his ability to discuss the whole thing with Satya. However, he felt worried about whether Daryn’s friend who’d developed the theory might assert a claim to the proceeds. A justifiable claim, if the whole transmutation process depended on the man’s theory. Maybe, once Kiri gives me a copy of the theory, I’ll be able to understand just how dependent the process is on it?

***

Morgan and Tilly placed their orders in another restaurant with a view, this time of a park along the French Broad River. She leaned back, smiled, and said, “Well?”

Ah, he realized, this time she expects me to carry my end of the conversation. He asked, “Where were you born?”

It turned out that Tilly’s father and his parents had immigrated to the United States from India. They’d worked in the motel business. After ten years, they’d opened their own motel in Virginia. Tilly’s dad had fallen in love with a local girl who worked as a desk clerk. It had been quite the scandal in his family when he’d refused to marry the girl with whom they’d arranged a wedding. Instead, he’d insisted on marrying the clerk.

Telling her own story, Tilly said that when she’d been in college she’d fallen in love with a boy from Asheville. “We moved here after we got married—”

A sudden dread filled Morgan, “You’re married?”

She grinned at him, “Was married. Maybe you should have checked the marriage question out before you started taking me out to all these expensive lunches, huh?”

He glanced at her left hand, “I did check it out. You’re not wearing a ring.”

She laughed, “Some married people don’t wear rings.”

“Mostly men,” he grumbled darkly.

She lowered an eyebrow, “You don’t believe in equal rights for women?”

“Yeah, just not equal sneakiness.” Before she could make any more fun of him, he said, “So, what happened to your marriage?”

She shrugged, “We fell out of love. Others would tell you that he fell in love with another girl… But, really, we hadn’t been in love with each other for some time when that happened. We’d just been marking time. I was glad it happened.” She looked out over the park, “We’re still friends and wish all the best for one another.”

Morgan sighed, “I wish I was still friends with Arlette…”

Thursday evening

As they finished eating dinner, Morgan said, “Kiri, I looked through your dad’s patent files and he’s already submitted patent applications for the alpha particle accelerator, for transmutation itself, and for his process for condensing the metal vapor. Your dad’s patent attorney feels fairly certain that the patents will be granted and that, even now, the IP’s pretty well protected by its patent pending status—”

“IP?” Kiri said.

“Intellectual Property.”

Morgan drew a breath to explain more, but she nodded sharply, suggesting she understood fully. “Go on,” she said.

“The attorney, Ms. Carper, said it’d be okay for me to discuss the theory with my particle physics friend, though she recommended I have him sign a nondisclosure agreement before I do so.”

Kiri frowned, “You’re still wanting to talk the theory over with some guy? If transmutation works, who cares whether your buddy thinks the theory’s sound or not?”

“If all this transmutation stuff’s based on the guy’s theory, I’m a little worried he’s going to be making a claim on any of our financial proceeds.” Morgan shrugged, “And if he really gave Daryn the idea, it seems to me that he’d be justified in making a claim.”

“We can just build the device. We don’t have to attribute its function to any theories or anything. No one’ll know we got the idea from any fancy theory.”

“We’ll know. And, you said he was a friend of your dad’s. He’ll know, and may have some records showing he gave the idea to Daryn.” Morgan shrugged, “On the other hand, if the theory turns out to be some kind of mumbo-jumbo nonsense, then we’d be justified in saying it’s unrelated.”

Kiri sat perfectly still, looking out the window at the valley.

Eventually, Morgan said, “I’d feel much better if you told me who the guy is that came up with the theory. It’d be good if I talked to him.”

She broke out of what appeared to have been a little reverie. “I’ll get you a copy of the theory. You can show it to your friend, but… For, several reasons, I’d rather not introduce you to the guy that developed the theory. Besides, you’re missing the point of something you’ve said a couple of times now yourself. He gave the theory to dad. Said he could have it without paying for it.” Abruptly she rose and went upstairs.

Morgan let her go, but thought, I doubt he “gave” it, but even if he did, we’d need documentation of the gift.

A few minutes later, Morgan was looking at Kiri’s printout of the theory. He laughed. The written description was sparse and didn’t tell him anything she hadn’t already described. The majority of what she’d printed out seemed to be equations that contained a lot of bizarre mathematical symbols Morgan was unfamiliar with. What was funny was how he’d hoped to read the theory and figure out how much of the transmutation process depended on it. Now he realized he’d never understand it himself. He wondered if it actually was mumbo-jumbo nonsense.

Satya will know. The more implausible it is, the less we have to worry about the guy making a claim.

Deciding he should at least make an effort to understand it, Morgan started looking up some of the symbols. His phone rang. It was Adam. When Morgan picked up, Adam said, “Can you pick me up at the school tomorrow? Instead of Jerry’s house.”

Surprised, Morgan said, “You’re wanting to come up to Asheville for the weekend?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, sounding as if he couldn’t believe Morgan would’ve thought otherwise.

Not being fond of driving, Morgan really didn’t want to make the four hour drive each way again on Friday. Doing it on Tuesday had been rough enough. And, he realized, if he made this trip, he’d have to do it again on Monday! “Don’t you want to hang out with your friends down there this weekend?”

“No!” Adam said, sounding like the word’d just erupted out of him. “I want… I want to hang out with my family.”

Morgan was about to tease him about Kiri, but decided not to. It’ll give me a chance to drop the theory off with Satya. It wouldn’t hurt to check in with Roger as well. Not wanting to let Adam off too easy, he produced an audible sigh and said, “Okay, you’ll have your stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“When and where?”

Friday afternoon

Morgan was talking to his friend Satya Monda. Satya wasn’t happy. “Come on Morgan. You’re asking me to do you a favor, but you’re going to demand that I sign a bunch of legal crap before I can have the privilege of doing you the favor?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Morgan said, thinking that from Satya’s viewpoint, he really was asking a lot. “I’d be happy to pay you for your time—”

Satya scoffed, “I’m not going to charge an old friend to look at his theory, but—” he shook his head in frustration.

“It’s not my theory. A friend of my brother’s came up with it. My brother’s been basing some work on transmutation—”

“Oh, come on!” Satya interrupted exasperatedly. “Transmutation? He’s not transmuting lead into gold is he?”

“Um, no, but close. I’ve, um, seen evidence that he’s gotten it to work.”

“You’ve probably seen someone pull a rabbit out of a hat too, but that still isn’t science.”

Feeling irritated, Morgan stood up, “Sorry to have bothered you—”

Satya rolled his eyes and held out a hand, “Don’t get your underwear in a twist. I owe you for that time you bailed my ass out in college. Let’s see this theory.”

Morgan hesitated, “Not until you sign the NDA. Sorry.”

“Hand it over,” Satya said with a sigh.

Satya skimmed over the NDA, then signed with a flourish and held out his hand again.

Morgan gave him the printout with the theory on it and said, “I assume it’ll take a while, so—”

Satya shook his head, “It should only take a couple of minutes. All I’ve got to do’s find a major issue or two and we’ll know it’s unworkable. Have a seat.”

Twenty minutes later, Satya looked up with the glazed expression. “I was wrong. You’re going to need to leave this with me for a day or so. Maybe a week.” He narrowed his eyes, “Who’s the guy that came up with this?”

With a helpless shrug, Morgan said, “I don’t even know. A friend of my brother’s.”

Satya frowned, “Well, ask him.”

“Um, he was killed last Thursday.”

Concern all over his face, Satya stood. When Morgan stood as well, Satya clasped him in a hug, “Sorry! I didn’t know. What happened?”

“Best guess?” Morgan asked.

Satya nodded.

Morgan waved at the papers on Satya’s desk, “It probably had something to do with that.”

Satya turned to look at it. A moment later, he said musingly, “Someone thinks it works, huh?

***

Morgan was having a late lunch with Roger when his phone rang. He looked at it and saw Alan Frank—Matilda’s CEO’s—name displayed. He looked up and saw Roger staring at the name as well. With a shrug, he accepted the call, then tapped the speaker icon so Roger’d be able to hear as well. They heard Alan’s voice, “Morgan?”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“I’m sorry—” Alan said, but didn’t go any further.

After a few moments of silence, Morgan said, “You’re sorry and you’re going to make things right? Or, you’re going through your twelve steps and you called to tell me you’re sorry you’re such an asshole? Or something else?”

The silence continued for another ten seconds, then Alan said, “I’m sorry I let Terrence talk me into this. I am sorry I’m such an asshole. And I’d like to make things right.”

“You’re going to make things right for Roger and for all the employees too?”

“Well, no, they were employees. They should never have had shares in the first place.” Roger drew a breath as if he wanted to say something nasty, but Morgan waved him to silence. Alan continued, “But Norm and I, we’re realizing that Terrence was wrong about your role. You might not have helped build the company, but you created its product.”

Controlling his voice to keep it calm, Morgan said, “Some might argue that the product is the company.”

Sounding dejected, Alan said, “You’re right.”

Morgan said, “The legal advice we’ve been getting suggests that those modified contracts you got everyone to sign won’t hold up in court. Especially since you guys, to quote, ‘secured execution of the documents by deception or fraud’ and we have evidence to prove it.”

Alan didn’t say anything. Morgan had the distinct impression that somewhere along the line, either his own lawyers or Alan’s lawyers had failed to tell Alan about the evidence. They probably thought it’d cut into their billing hours, Morgan thought cynically. He said, “Alan? You still there?”

Alan cleared his throat, “Yeah. You interested in my offer?”

“What exactly is your offer?”

“You’d get a quarter share.”

“It sounds like I’m about to hear an, ‘And in return you’ll…’ kind of clause?”

“Yeah, we’ve been having some trouble with Matilda. We’ll need your help getting her working at full speed again.”

Morgan barked a little laugh, “Sorry Alan. I don’t renege on my bargains. If you want my help, you’re going to have to give everyone their shares according to the original contracts.”

Roger and Morgan sat waiting to hear what Alan would say, but eventually Morgan’s phone simply indicated it was ready to make another call. Morgan looked up at Roger, “He hung up…”

For a moment, Roger looked disappointed. Then he said, “Thanks for sticking up for the rest of us.”

Morgan said, “Can’t imagine doing it any other way.” Inside though, he couldn’t help but wondering what a quarter share would’ve amounted to.

***

Adam was driving on their way back to Asheville. Once they got onto I-40 and Adam had settled into the routine of driving the freeway, Morgan said, “Feel up to talking?”

“Sure,” Adam said, keeping his eyes focused on the road.

“Monday night, at dinner, I couldn’t help noticing the way you kept looking at Kiri.”

“How was I looking at her?” Adam asked, sounding somewhere between defensive and irritated.

“Like a young man with a crush on a girl.”

“A crush?”

“An infatuation. Thinking you’re in love when you don’t really know the girl well enough for that to be possible. Enamored of her looks, but—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it. You sure can read a lot into a look.”

“Do I have it all wrong?”

Adam shrugged, “When I first saw her I thought she looked— different. Unusual. The dark hair and those blue eyes— you get the feeling she can see right through you; you know?”

“Yeah, her eyes’re pretty amazing.”

“But the more I’m around her…”

Morgan waited, but Adam didn’t say anything else. Finally, he said, “I still think you sound like a young man with a crush on a girl.” He waited a beat, and when Adam didn’t say anything, he continued, “And I know she’s not really related to you, so it’s legally and morally okay. I’m just wanting you to think about the fact that she’s in mourning for her dad. That— That if she came to love you too, but then you two broke up it’s really going to be rough on her. And, rough on our little family.” He took a deep breath, “A family that’s so small it’d be terrible if we didn’t get along. Believe me, I know.”

Morgan had been watching Adam, so he saw Adam glance over at him. Adam said, “You know, it’s not like I’m trying to fall in love with her. It’s just that…”

“Yeah. Falling in love doesn’t feel like something you’ve got any control over, I know that. I’m just saying that I think you should think about how people’s feelings could get really hurt. Including yours, and hers, and all the people you hold dear—”

“I think about it.” Adam broke in, “Believe me, I think about it.” Adam leaned forward and pointedly turned up the radio.

I guess this conversation’s over, Morgan thought.

An hour further into their drive, Morgan’s phone rang. When he pulled it out, he saw Alan Frank’s name on the display again. He accepted the call and said, “Hello?”

Alan said, “Okay. We’ll divide it five ways.”

“Not good enough Alan. We need to comply with the contract we had before you guys tried to screw everybody over.” Morgan kept his voice as calm as he could. In a soothing tone, he continued, “Everybody’ll get plenty of money. What’d you sell it for?”

Alan didn’t speak for a moment, then reluctantly said, “Five billion.”

“There, see? Over 800 million per share’s way more money than we dreamed of when we started out.”

Abruptly Alan said, “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Morgan asked.

“Okay, we’ll split it six ways. I’ll tell the lawyers. Can you head in to Matilda and start trying to figure out what’s wrong?”

“No. I’m on my way to Asheville—”

“Come on man! They’re all over us! We need to get it working ASAP!”

“‘Come on man’ yourself.” Morgan replied pointedly. “You could’ve had it working days ago if you hadn’t been acting like such a jerk. As soon as I get to Asheville I’ll login and start trying to figure out what’s wrong.”

“But, you’ve got to be at Matilda. We’ve blocked your access. We’ll have to restore it”

“Alan, I’m the computer guy, remember? You never actually managed to cut off my access in the first place. And, no, I don’t have to be there. I’ll start working on it when I get to Asheville. That’ll be a couple of hours.”

Grudgingly, Alan said, “Okay.”

Morgan said, “also, that’ll give you time to email me a document signed by you, Norm, and Terrence. One that repudiates that revised contract in favor of the original one.”

“But those guys have already gone home!”

“Alan, I thought you were in a hurry? I’m happy to wait till Monday to start working on it if you want.”

“Come on. I’ll get them to sign something sometime this weekend, but we need you fixing Matilda now.”

Morgan snorted, “I guess you’re thinking I should just trust you?” Morgan paused for a moment to let the question sink in, then said, “Guess what; because of some recent experiences, I’m thinking I shouldn’t. I’ll start working on it when I get that repudiation, not before. Also, send me some documentation on what the problems with Matilda have been, okay?”

When Morgan put away his phone, Adam said, sounding astonished, “833 million? Is that dollars? For Matilda?”

“Yeah, but it’s far from a done deal.”

Friday evening

Since they weren’t going to get home until eight, Morgan and Adam stopped in Statesville for a burger at Hardee’s. Morgan called Lindl and suggested they order a pizza if they didn’t want to cook.

However, when Morgan and Adam got to the house, they found Kiri putting dishes in the dishwasher. Adam said, “You guys use dishes when you eat pizza?”

She shook her head, “No, some kind of problem’s developed with our debit cards. I suspect the bank decided to cancel them when they figured out Dad died.” Adam heard Morgan mutter a curse, presumably about one more unexpected problem. Kiri laughed and continued. “So, believe it or not, Lindl cooked dinner.” She put up her fingers and making little air quotes when she said “cooked.”

“He did?” Morgan asked. “He told me he wanted to learn how to cook, but I thought he needed me to teach him.”

“Hah! I don’t know if you can really call it cooking. He broke up a pound of hamburger in an oversized skillet, then, while it was browning, he added a chopped onion, two cans of beans, a can of chopped tomatoes, some garlic salt, and some chili powder.” She grinned at Adam and Morgan, “Served it with grated cheddar and called it chili.” She leaned toward them and lowered her voice, “Actually, it wasn’t bad. But don’t tell him I said so.”

Adam said, “And you’re doing the dishes?”

She shrugged and produced a knowing smile, “Occasionally you’ve got to compromise your principles.”

Morgan looked toward the stairs, “Lindl’s up in his room? I’ll tell him thanks.”

“No,” Kiri said, “he already left for his gig.”

“Gig?” Morgan said, feeling confused.

“Yeah, his band’s playing at the Delroy.”

Morgan frowned, “I didn’t know he had a band.”

“Yep,” Kiri said, closing the dishwasher and turning it on. “They play a lot of local gigs. Dad’s rule was that Lindl could only play on weekends.” She shrugged, “Dad broke that rule occasionally for special events.”

“Is the Delroy a bar?”

Kiri shrugged. “They serve drinks, but it’s more of a dance club.”

Morgan looked a little bit alarmed, “He’s only seventeen.”

“He doesn’t drink,” Kiri said, as if the matter was closed. She shifted topic, “Can you fix the issue with our debit cards? We don’t use them very much, but they’re really handy for some things. Like an Uber when I get stuck somewhere and need a ride.”

Looking distracted, Morgan said, “I’ll fix it, but I doubt we’ll be able to do anything until Monday. It might be that you guys’ll have to go in with me. If so that’ll mean we can’t fix it until after school on Tuesday.” Morgan stood silently for a moment, then said, “I think I should go watch the show. Will you guys be okay alone tonight?”

Adam nodded, thinking that he’d love to spend time alone with Kiri. However, he felt pretty surprised his dad’d think it was okay after the little talk they’d had on the drive up.

But then Kiri said, “I’d like to go to the show. Would that be okay?”

Morgan shrugged, “Sure. It’s Friday night. Just let me check my email first.”

***

As they drove to the Delroy, Adam wondered whether he and Kiri would be allowed in. He’d had the impression that it was illegal for underage people to be in a bar, but as he thought about it, he realized he’d been in plenty of restaurants that served alcohol. When they came to the entrance, the man at the door checked their ID, giving Morgan a white wrist band and giving black wrist bands to Kiri and Adam. When Adam quietly asked Kiri about it, she explained that the black wristbands indicated they were under age and couldn’t have alcohol. “It saves the people working here trouble because they don’t have to check IDs every time someone wants to order a drink.”

They moved into a vestibule and Adam realized he heard a familiar song starting. It took him a couple of beats to realize it sounded familiar because it was something he’d heard Lindl playing in his room. Now, with drums and bass guitar it sounded much fuller.

Entering the main part of the club, Adam looked toward the music. He saw a raised stage at the far end. For a moment, he didn’t even recognize Lindl. His cousin looked— totally in his element.

The Delroy was crowded. It took Adam a while to realize that most of the crowd were young women, intently focused on the stage. Lindl began to sing, something he hadn’t done while Adam was around. He’s good! Adam thought. He looked at Lindl again. His cousin stood, legs apart in a power stance, leaning into the microphone, fingers flying over his low-slung guitar. Adam realized his cousin wasn’t just a master guitarist, he was handsome and charismatic.

From the expressions on their faces, evidently a lot of the young women thought Lindl was pretty amazing as well.

Adam turned to look at his dad, wondering how Morgan was reacting to this.

His dad was staring off to his right, looking shattered. Adam turned to see what his dad was staring at with such dismay. It was Tilly Arvind, Kiri’s lawyer. Arvind was with a man who had his hand casually draped over her shoulders. She was laughing up at him, perhaps at something he’d said. Why would Dad care who Ms. Arvind hangs out with? Adam wondered.

He looked back at Morgan. His dad was definitely staring at the couple and there was no doubt he looked upset. Bizarre, Adam thought, but decided it was none of his business. He started working his way through the crowd after Kiri.

Two hours later, when they left for home, Adam saw his dad glancing over at Tilly Arvind again. As they got out to where it was quieter, he turned to Morgan and said, “Wasn’t that Kiri’s lawyer?”

Morgan only nodded.

Kiri evidently heard. She said, “The lawyer that got me out of jail?”

Adam said, “Yeah, Tilly Arvind.”

“Why are you guys talking about her?” Kiri asked.

“She was there at the club,” Adam said, “listening to Lindl’s band.”

“Really?” Kiri said, “I’ll go tell her thanks.” She turned back toward the door, “They’ll let me back in with my wristband. It’ll only take a second.”

Morgan said, “No.” He sounded emphatic. “Let’s go on home, I’m tired.”

“It’ll just take—” Kiri began.

“No! Let’s go.”

Kiri gave Adam a “What the hell?” kind of look. He shook his head and leaned close enough to whisper, “Tell you later.”

***

On the drive home, Morgan kept wondering why he was so upset about Tilly being at the Delroy with some other guy. We’ve only gone to lunch twice for God’s sake, he thought to himself. There’s absolutely no reason I should think she wouldn’t go out with other guys if she got the chance.

Morgan wasn’t the jealous type. After additional reflection, he decided he was just worried she’d go for this other guy. He felt like she was the best thing that’d happened to him and— Could it be that I’ve fallen for her so quickly because she’s some kind of counterbalance to all the bad things that’ve happened to me in the past eight days? Maybe it’s like a rebound romance on steroids because of my brother’s death and the loss of Matilda?

Despite worrying that he shouldn’t pursue her, or anyone, right now, he decided he call her in the morning. He’d ask her to— He didn’t know what he’d ask her to do. He’d have to think of something.

Though it was late, Morgan knew he’d have a hard time getting to sleep. He checked his email and found that Alan had sent an email with a letter signed by the big three that repudiated the revised contract. Good, he thought, working on Matilda’ll keep my mind off Tilly. And, the routine of going through Matilda’s code’ll probably make me sleepy. He sent a copy of the repudiation to Roger so Roger could check it out with Treyvn and Associates.

Then he logged into Matilda and started trying to figure out what’d gone wrong. He already had several ideas—

***

Morgan stayed up late working out fixes for Matilda and getting them ready to upload as soon as Treyvn and Associates approved the letter from the big three. He’d found several issues. One was the kind of problem that cropped up occasionally but that he would’ve expected to be difficult to recognize for someone who wasn’t familiar with Matilda’s code. However, two were bits of malicious code Morgan thought might have been inserted by someone who worked at Matilda and was pissed off about getting screwed out of his share. Or her share, but Morgan thought he knew who’d done it. One of Morgan’s more effective coders. A guy who likely had his own backdoor into Matilda. Morgan worried for a bit about the morals of sabotaging Matilda. This made him think about how Roger’d suggested Morgan do the same thing. He wondered about the conflicting ethics of the two sides of that situation, but decided it’d probably solve itself once he was allowed to fix Matilda. That’d put an end to any ongoing sabotage, since everyone should be happy with their contract again.

Saturday morning

Despite staying up late working on Matilda and then worrying about what’d happened with Tilly anyway, Morgan was up early on Saturday morning because he couldn’t sleep.

As he’d expected, he hadn’t yet gotten any replies from Roger regarding what Treyvn thought.

It was too early to call Tilly.

He knew he couldn’t get back to sleep

He turned to getting things set up for a waffle breakfast.

Everything was ready. He was trying to think of something else to do to keep himself occupied when Kiri came down the stairs. She had on her running gear, and Morgan expected her to shoot out the door like she had on the other mornings. Instead she hesitantly stepped into the kitchen. She had on a neon pink tank top and black running shorts. When her blue eyes found his, he thought they looked electric. Morgan couldn’t help but think he could understand why Adam was crazy about her. But if it’s her looks alone, it’s probably only an infatuation, he thought.

Kiri said, “The guys are still asleep, right?”

Morgan nodded, “Think you’ll be up for some waffles when you get back from your run?”

“Sure.” Morgan thought she even looked enthusiastic about it. She said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Shoot.”

“It’s about our financial… issues.”

Morgan thought about saying something about how the Matilda settlement would probably solve those problems, but after all the settlement still wasn’t a bird in the hand. Besides, it’s good for someone her age to think about financial issues and look for solutions. He nodded, “Go ahead.”

“The other day, when I was up at the mine checking out the transmutation set up, I realized that Dad had been making an iridium run when he got interrupted by Norwood.”

“Ah, had he made much of it?”

“A chunk about the size of half a stick of butter. Almost 1.4 kilograms—” Morgan frowned as he tried to work out the value, but before he made any progress, she continued, “about $61,000 worth.” She shrugged, “Assuming we can find a buyer.”

Morgan almost said he’d start looking. Instead, he smiled at her and said, “Sounds like we could keep the mine for a while then, huh?”

She nodded.

He said, “You want to try to figure out who’d buy iridium?”

She nodded, “Sure. I’m a little worried that they’re going to want to know where we got it.”

Morgan grinned, “I guess we probably shouldn’t tell them we can make it until we’ve proved we can.”

Kiri glanced away, then looked back at Morgan. “I can make more,” she said simply.

Morgan felt like he should doubt her, however, the look in her eyes said she felt completely certain she could. He said, “Great. Maybe you could start another run sometime this weekend?”

“Okay. I’m not sure how much more rhenium we have though.”

“Would you feel okay showing me how to run it?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding as if showing him would relieve her of a burden. “Later this morning though. I gotta get my run in before I explode.”

“Before you go—” Morgan said.

She turned to look at him questioningly.

“What grade are you in?”

She frowned as if she were about to ask him why he wanted to know—or why didn’t know—but then she just said, “I’m a Junior.” She turned to the door and was gone.

Morgan thought, I guess she skipped ahead at least a year. He thought about their entire conversation as he watched her lope across the clearing toward the start of one of her trails. I get the feeling her heart’s truly decided to trust me, he thought.

It felt good.

***

Lindl showed up in the kitchen before Adam did. Today’s T-shirt had a picture of a guy twisting one of several tuning pegs on the head of a fish. The caption said “Tune-a-Fish.” When Lindl saw the waffle iron sitting out on the counter, he said, “Awesome! Shall I plug it in?”

Morgan said, “Sure. By the time you’re done with your half a dozen waffles, Kiri should be back from her run. Is Adam up yet?”

“Uh-huh,” Lindl said, plugging in the waffle iron. “Well, at least he rolled over as I was leaving the room. Probably means he’s awake, but I can’t be sure.” The young man turned and looked at the counter where Morgan had set out waffle mix, milk, vegetable oil, eggs and chopped pecans. “Hey, are you gonna teach me how to make waffles with pecans in them?”

Morgan smiled, “I thought it’d be a good first lesson since they’re pretty easy and you like ‘em so much.” He showed Lindl the recipe on the back of the box, suggested a couple of small modifications, and watched Lindl get started. He said, “I thought your band sounded really good last night.”

“Really?” Though Lindl was still focused on what he was doing, Morgan saw the corners of his mouth slant upward. “From what Adam said, you were mostly worried about Kiri’s lawyer.”

“Oh geez,” Morgan almost moaned. “Teenage boys aren’t supposed to gossip.”

Lindl looked up at him with one lowered eyebrow, “Not gossiping. Just keeping track of the mental health of my guardian.” He looked back down at the bowl where he’d put his ingredients, “Now I stir it up?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said with a little laugh. “Your guardian’s mental health is just fine.”

“Not the way I heard it. Supposedly you were looking brokenhearted. Didn’t you just meet her this past weekend?”

“Um, yeah. What’s that have to do with it?”

Lindl looked over at the waffle iron, “Now I just pour in some of this batter?”

“If the little red light on the waffle iron’s gone off, yeah. I’d spray it with a little bit of that nonstick spray first. Then put your chopped pecans onto the iron before you pour in the batter.”

Lindl sprayed, then put on a lot of chopped pecans. He poured on batter, asking Morgan for feedback about whether he’d poured on enough. He closed the iron, then looked up at Morgan. “It just seems like you shouldn’t be so upset about woman you’d only met a few days ago.”

Morgan opened his mouth to deny being upset, then shut it. I shouldn’t try to lie to my nephew, he decided. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be upset. If I were on the outside looking in, I’d be accusing myself of acting like a love-struck teenager—” He paused as he realized he’d just insulted his audience, “Um, not that—”

Lindl waved it away, saying, “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t take much perception to realize that people my age can display a lot of angst over failed love. I’m not quite sure yet whether older people aren’t hurt as bad, or just hide their emotions better.” He looked Morgan directly in the eye, “But it sounds like something’s really gotten to you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Morgan sighed. “If I was watching this happen to one of my friends, I’d say he was just vulnerable because he’d recently broken up with his wife. It feels different to me though. Ms. Arvind’s pretty, smart, kind, and a fun conversationalist.”

“Wow,” Lindl said. “That’s a lot of compliments for a lady you’ve only met once and still call by her last name.”

“I—” Morgan paused, a little embarrassed, “I might’ve seen her a couple of other times.”

“Seen who a couple of other times?” Adam asked as he walked into the kitchen.

Lindl turned, “We’re talking about Tilly Arvind.”

Adam shot Lindl an astonished glance, “Have you been getting my dad to talk about his feelings?” He lifted his eyebrows high as he turned to look at Morgan, “I can’t get him to do that!”

Morgan rolled his eyes.

Lindl turned back to Morgan, “So you knew her before you hired her to help Kiri?”

Morgan shook his head, feeling embarrassed, even though he thought surely he was too old for that.

Lindl said, “You’ve seen her this week? When?”

In case he was blushing, Morgan turned to look out the window, “I might’ve taken her to lunch a couple times.” Realizing he might have a way to derail the conversation, he turned back to look at the waffle iron. “You’d better get your waffle before it burns.”

Lindl got out his waffle and plated it. Adam set about pouring one for himself. As a preemptive strike to try to keep them from getting back on the subject of Tilly Arvind, Morgan said, “Seemed like there were a lot of young ladies at the Delroy. They acted like they were pretty crazy about your band.”

Lindl looked embarrassed, “Yeah. I think they’re just there to see Mack. I wish they were more interested in the music.”

“Mack?” Adam said, sounding incredulous.

“The bass player,” Lindl said, putting a big chunk of waffle in his mouth. He spoke with his mouth full, “Mack’s supposed to be quite the lady’s man.”

“I think those girls were there for you, man,” Adam said. Though he realized he was out of touch with the younger generation, Morgan thought Adam was probably right.

The back door banged shut, indicating Kiri’s return.

Lindl swallowed, “Nah, I’m just the guitarist, not the eye candy.”

Kiri came around the corner, eyes wide, “Eye candy? You? Damn right you’re not the eye candy. If it wasn’t for your stupid T-shirts, the girls might occasionally notice you but—”

Lindl broke a wide smile, “You know you love my T-shirts. Just like I love your fluorescent pink fashion statements.”

“Neon, you philistine. Neon pink.” She turned for the stairs, “Don’t eat all the waffles, I’ll be right back.”

Morgan saw Adam watching her go. “Adam, your waffle’s ready.”

Adam looked a little guilty as he turned and opened the waffle iron.

***

To distract himself, he looked at his newsfeed. The first thing he came to was an article about how the 12 Bones restaurant was going to be open on Saturdays starting this weekend. After extensive deliberation, Morgan sent Tilly a text, “Lunch at 12 Bones?”

A couple of minutes later he got a reply, “It’s closed on weekends.”

He sent her another, “It’s going to be open on Saturdays starting this weekend. Interested?”

She replied, “Sure. See you there @ 12:30?”

He felt greatly relieved. He’d felt sure she’d put him off in favor of her new guy. He replied again, saying yes, then started worrying that her replies seemed a little terse. What if she’s just meeting me to tell me she’s found this other guy?

To get his mind out of its downward spiral, he returned to his newsfeed. The next thing he noticed was an article about the degradation in the performance of Matilda. The author said, “…users everywhere are infuriated. Apparently, Matilda’s technology was appropriated by new owners in a secret corporate deal last week. Whoever purchased her apparently obtained the rights to her technology without actually taking over her corporate structure or keeping on key employees. When they ran into problems, the new owners tried to hire some Matilda employees in order to maintain her in a functioning state, but the employees refused, claiming that they had been unjustly terminated in order to keep them from sharing in the profits of the sale…” Morgan thought, That’s not exactly how I would’ve described it, but I suppose it’s accurate enough.

He thought about just how grateful he should be that those unnamed employees stood up for everyone else by stonewalling the new owners. He wondered just who was going to keep Matilda functioning. He didn’t mind fixing her this weekend, but obviously, with his one-sixth share of the sale, he’d no longer have any need to continue doing her programming. Some of the people who’ve hired on relatively recently’ll be getting a small enough share that they’ll probably be happy to keep working for the new owners, he thought.

As he pondered, he suddenly realized he should check to see if he could upload the fixes he’d come up with last night.

Treyvn and Associates had, in fact, approved the letter that’d been signed last night, so he uploaded his patches to Matilda’s software. By the time he was sure they were working, it was almost time to go to 12 Bones. He looked up the stairs, reluctantly thinking he needed to let the kids know where he was going.

He trudged his way up the stairs. Kiri’s door was open so he leaned in there first. “Hey, I’m going into town for a bit. You need anything?”

She shook her head without looking away from her computer’s screen. As he started down the hall to Lindl’s room his brain processed what he’d seen on her monitor. It’d been covered with odd symbols that he was pretty sure were used in sophisticated math. In fact, a lot of the symbols looked like the ones that’d been in that theory she’d given him to take to Satya. He decided she must be trying to learn something about that kind of math. He thought, I’ll bet she’s actually trying to understand how her dad’s transmutation technology works! He decided it was a great goal for a fifteen-year-old. As long as it isn’t so frustrating it turns her off to math…

He leaned into Lindl’s room. Adam was in there doing something on his laptop and Lindl, surprise-surprise, was playing his guitar. “Hey, I’m going into town for a bit. You need me to get you guys anything?”

Adam started getting up, “I’ll drive.”

“Um—” Morgan said brilliantly, thinking he should have foreseen the possibility that Adam would want more driving practice. I should have already come up with a reason why he wouldn’t want to go. He said, “You’d be bored,” and hoped Adam wouldn’t ask a follow-up question.

It was too much to hope for. Adam said, “What are you going to be doing?”

Morgan said, “Um—”

He didn’t have to say anything more, because Lindl shifted his chord progression and sang, “Sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Morgan felt his face heating. Evidently they could see it this time. Adam said, “Oh, you’ve got it bad…”

Saturday afternoon

Morgan got to 12 Bones early. When Tilly arrived, she had on tasteful jeans, a T-shirt, and cowboy boots. He realized it was the first time he’d seen her in anything but the professional clothes she wore for work. Those were stylish and looked good, but he thought he liked her better in what she had on now. “Hi, glad you could come.”

She drew back as if startled, placing her hand on her chest, “I couldn’t possibly turn down a lunch at 12 Bones!”

Morgan laughed, “Sorry if it’s not up to par for a lady of your discrimination and taste, but I really like it.”

She grinned, “I really like it too.” She lifted a foot to display her boot, “That’s why I wore my shit kickers.”

He opened the door and ushered her in, “I like your shit kickers too.”

After they’d ordered and sat down to wait for their food, she said, “So, why didn’t you come over and say hello last night?”

I guess she saw me. Internally, Morgan laughed at himself, And here I’ve been agonizing about how I’d bring up last night. He shrugged and said, “You were with another man.” He put on a pout that he hoped wouldn’t look too ridiculous. He put his hand on his chest and said, “I was heartbroken.”

“Ah,” she said generating a broad smile. She lifted an eyebrow, “And you probably noticed he looks partially Indian, like me. Someone my family might find a more suitable marriage prospect, eh?”

His heart sinking, Morgan nodded.

She leaned closer and gently punched him on the shoulder, “He’s my brother, you doofus.”

A wave of relief washed over Morgan and he felt a silly grin forming on his face. “Oh,” he said brilliantly. “So why were two siblings out barhopping together?”

“He’s got a talent agency. He wanted to see what I thought of the band that was playing there last night. Also, apparently a lot of girls show up to listen wherever those guys play. He wanted to know what the young women were interested in. He didn’t think they’d talk to a guy in his forties, but hoped they’d answer a few questions from me.”

Morgan felt startled, but tried to keep it from showing on his face, “So what did you think about the band?”

“The drummer’s okay, if unimaginative,” she began. Morgan’s heart started to sink at this dispassionate but seemingly knowledgeable assessment. She continued, “The bass player doesn’t have much talent at all, but thinks he’s God’s gift to women. That guitarist though… The kid’s amazing. A great vocalist too. Did you know he’s only seventeen?!”

Morgan nodded numbly. “So, what were all those girls interested in?”

“The guitarist. Probably not for how he plays guitar though.” She rolled her eyes and spoke in a high-pitched singsong, “He’s so dreamy…”

“Not the bass player?”

“Oh, no—” Tilly’s eyes widened and she put her hand on his wrist, looking apologetic. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Do you know the bass player?”

Morgan shook his head, “Um, no—”

Tilly frowned, “The drummer?”

Morgan frowned back, “Why do you think I know someone?”

She tilted her head and searched his eyes, “I can tell. You know the guitarist, don’t you?”

He nodded, “He’s Kiri’s brother.”

“Oh!” Tilly said, her eyes widening. “I met him briefly when I came to visit Kiri, didn’t I? He looked familiar last night but I couldn’t figure out why.” She put a hand over her mouth, “Oh, Pradeep’s going to be pissed.”

“Pradeep’s your brother?”

Tilly nodded.

“Why’s he going to be mad?”

“Because I told you how amazing your nephew is. It’ll weaken his position when he tries to negotiate a deal.”

“Really? You think he’ll want to make an offer?”

Tilly laughed, “Without a doubt.”

“Lindl’s too young, he hasn’t even finished high school yet. Besides, he says all those girls are there for the bass player.”

“First point; Pradeep plans far into the future. Second point; only in the bass player’s dreams.” Tilly got an intent look on her face, “Pradeep thinks your nephew has immense potential, and he won’t be the only one. You’re his guardian now, and you need to start worrying that he’s going to get used by people who won’t have his best interests at heart.”

Suddenly sobered, Morgan sank back into his chair to consider the ramifications. “You think he needs a manager?”

Tilly nodded slowly. “Management’s what Pradeep offers. I, of course, think my brother’s fair and honest, but your nephew needs someone who’s completely on his side. I can suggest some people I know who specialize in entertainment law.”

“Not you?”

She laughed, “No, no. First of all, I don’t know entertainment law. Second, I have an obvious conflict, so you shouldn’t trust me. Third, if I were to negotiate hard on behalf of my client and against my brother…” she shook her head in dismay and widened her eyes, “there’d be hell to pay with my family.”

When they were leaving the restaurant, Morgan realized he’d had—once again—an extraordinarily good time. He turned to Tilly, “I— I really like you. I’d like to keep seeing you. Is that okay?”

She laughed again, “Yes. I like you too. But,” she waved a finger at him, “you just broke up with your wife last week. You shouldn’t commit to a long-term relationship this week. Or next. I think you should go out with at least a couple of other women before you start thinking you’re ready to settle down.”

“Oh. Okay,” Morgan said feeling bewildered. Is this just her way of getting rid of me? Or of saying she doesn’t want to date damaged goods that’re on the rebound? Or, is she just displaying extraordinary wisdom?

And, how am I supposed to find someone else to date?

***

On his drive home, Morgan’s phone said he had a call from Satya Monda. He touched the button on the wheel that picked it up, “Hello Satya.”

Without preamble, Satya said, “It’s an absolutely brilliant piece of theoretical work. I need to show it to a couple more people, but it’s possible that theory’s going to shake the foundations—”

“A couple more people?” Morgan said apprehensively. “You haven’t already violated that NDA, have you?”

“Um—”

“Satya!”

Satya laughed, “No, I haven’t violated your damned nondisclosure agreement. I just wanted to pull your chain.” He turned serious, “But, seriously, this needs to get out there. We need some experimentalists testing this theory. Just because the math works out, that doesn’t mean crap until somebody shows that this stuff actually happens physically, you know?”

“It’s not my theory to disseminate.”

“I know, it’s your brother’s, right? And if you’ve taken over as his guardian, you should have the right—”

“It’s not my brother’s. It came from some friend of his, and—”

“Who? I’ll be happy to call him and talk to him about it.” Satya produced a wistful tone that Morgan thought was just joking, “Maybe he’ll put my name on the paper and you can be my escort in Stockholm.”

“I don’t even know who it is,” Morgan said. “My niece knows who it is, but she’s been reluctant to tell me.”

Satya said, “Aren’t you her guardian now? Just tell her she has to tell you.”

Satya sounded like he couldn’t believe Morgan hadn’t recognized this obvious solution. Morgan realized that Satya’s family politics might be different from his own. Or at least from how Morgan thought a family should get along. Morgan said, “Her father was just killed. I’ve got to build some trust with her, not come on like some kind of dictator.”

“Well don’t take too long. The world needs that theory… Actually, the world needs the practical technology that could result from that theory. We’ve got to get the theory published so experimentalists can start attacking it.”

Morgan hesitated, “Before he died, my brother transmuted rhenium into iridium and platinum. Does that sound like the kind of thing the theory would let you do?”

“Holy mother! Was he doing it with proton capture or alpha capture with proton injection?”

“Alpha capture,” Morgan said reluctantly. “Does the theory predict that?”

“It predicts that you could markedly increase quantum tunneling of particles like protons or alpha particles. Exactly how you’d do it, I’m not sure. If your brother was really able to do it, that’s a major coup in its own right. Do you know how he did it? You could publish the method posthumously in his name.”

They talked a little longer and Morgan agreed to try to get the name of the person who’d developed the theory and let Satya know who it was. After he disconnected, Morgan found his head spinning with the implications. I wonder if this guy who developed the theory has a better claim to the transmutation technology than we do, he wondered. Or, maybe the patent’s mostly for reducing it to practice. After all, every patent’s probably based on a whole bunch of theories…

***

Kiri looked up at a knock on her door. “Hey cousin,” she said, seeing Adam.

He said, “I’ve been thinking about your idea for the fighting bot.”

“Which one?” she asked, having mentioned several.

“The one that wasn’t dumb,” he said, grinning to take the sting out of his words. “The tethered projectile or spear.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “You mean the ‘sharpened piston.’”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, walking across the room to sit down next to her on the bed. He had a pad of paper he turned toward her. It had a drawing on it. “So, we build a pointy wedge design. After the wedge slides under the opposing bot and tilts it up off the floor, your piston fires up into its undercarriage.”

She looked at his drawing. It showed one robot tilted up with the other one wedged in underneath it. The bottom one had a narrow tube inside it, out of which had extended a long pointed rod that had jammed up into the upper one. “Are you gonna make it retract, so you can fire it up under there again?”

“I’d like to. How would we do it?”

“If you used a linear electromagnetic driver, you could just reverse it to pull the piston back.”

“I looked at that. To get much velocity, you need really high surge currents.”

She shrugged, “Big capacitors.”

“Then you need big batteries and time to charge the capacitors. It’d be a lot cheaper to fire it with a large rifle cartridge.” He tapped the paper where she saw he’d drawn a magazine of what looked like cartridges without bullets. “Then you could fire it again almost as soon as you drew it back.”

Kiri shrugged, “So, you use another, smaller cartridge at the other end of the piston to push it back.”

He stared at the paper for a moment, then threw his arm around her and pulled her tight. “Great idea!” He leaned his head closer and enthusiastically kissed her cheek.

Kiri expected him to immediately draw away, but he didn’t, staying tight against her. Without moving her head, she turned her eyes toward him. His face was still near, his lips almost grazing her cheek. “Cuz—?” she asked quietly.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his lips so close that she felt his warm breath on her cheek. She got the feeling that if she turned toward him he’d try to kiss her on the mouth.

“Of course I am,” she said, trying to derail whatever was happening with a little humor.

“I— I’m crazy about you.”

She leaned her head away, face front, but her eyes still turned hard toward him. “You’re crazy all right—” she said, grinning to soften the blow, “—cousin,” she said, to remind him of their relationship.

“I’m adopted,” he reminded her, “we’re not really cousins.”

“Close enough,” she said leaning away. For a moment, he came with her, pulled by the right hand he had around her. Then his fingers slipped free. She looked at him. He looked crushed. Why does this keep happening to me? she wondered. She said, “I like you a lot too. And I understand that it’d be biologically okay. But my dad was just killed…”

Adam looked stricken, “I’m sorry! I’m such an asshole.”

She wrinkled her nose and gave him a faint grin, “True.”

Adam looked properly abashed. Kiri was wondering how she’d disengage from the situation when she was saved by her uncle calling up the stairs to say dinner was ready.

Morgan and Lindl had made hamburgers. When Adam and Kiri got downstairs, she worried that the strain between them would be obvious. To brighten the conversation, she said, “Hamburgers! Awesome.”

“And tater tots too?” Adam said. “Dad, I thought you were opposed?”

“I’m opposed to them on the basis that I eat too many,” Morgan responded, “but I figured that most of them would go into Lindl’s hollow leg and there wouldn’t be enough left over to make me fat.”

To Kiri’s great relief, as the meal progressed, it seemed like the awkwardness she’d had with Adam had diminished. When she put some mayonnaise on her hamburger, he said, “Mayo? Gross!”

She arched an eyebrow, “A hamburger’s most important function is carrying mayo to my mouth.” She took a big bite.

“Catsup and mustard for me,” he said, reassembling his burger.

They talked about inconsequential things for a while, then Lindl said, “Hey, Matilda’s working again. Was that what you were working on this morning, Uncle Morgan?”

Morgan nodded while Kiri stared. Matilda?! Why would he be working on Matilda?

Adam turned toward his dad. “You worked things out with Alan?”

Morgan nodded again.

Adam said, “Does that mean our financial issues are— okay now?”

Morgan frowned, as if he didn’t really want to talk about it, but then he swallowed and said, “Presumably. But I don’t think we should start counting our eggs until we’ve at least seen them.”

“Wait a minute,” Kiri heard herself asking, “you worked for Matilda?” She realized she’d be ever so much more impressed with her uncle if he worked for Matilda rather than some other company.

Morgan just nodded.

Kiri turned to Lindl, “How did you know about this?”

He shrugged, “I talk to my roommate about things like that. What do you talk to him about?”

“He didn’t work for Matilda,” Adam said. “He founded her.”

Kiri felt her eyes widen as she turned to look at her uncle. “Really?”

Morgan shrugged and gave a barely perceptible nod. “Not just me, it was me and four of my buddies from college.”

“But he’s the guy who did the software,” Adam said.

Kiri still had her eyes on her uncle but his eyes were on his hamburger, as if he were embarrassed. And he’s humble about it, she thought. The fact that it kind of had to be dragged out of him makes me respect him so much more. She said, “That’s— impressive.”

Epilogue

Sunday, mid-June

The Djais were on a rise overlooking the Blue Ridge Parkway. They’d eaten a picnic in a small down-sloping meadow that broke the trees enough to let them look out over the green hills Daryn had so loved. They’d been reminiscing about his life with both tears and laughter.

At a nod from Morgan, Lindl got up, put on his acoustic guitar, and stood looking out over the apparently endless forest. He started playing a peaceful tune he’d written for the occasion.

After he’d been playing for a while, Kiri walked up beside him. She stood on his right and put her left arm around his waist. Turning, she waved Morgan and Adam up beside her. When the four of them stood side-by-side, each with an arm around another, she began to recite from memory:

We will never comprehend

Why he’s gone and why it ends

We’re here to speak of how we’ve lost

A friend and loved one to the frost

The frost that nips us all at last

No matter that we’re quick and fast

So give our hearts a path to mend

And in our souls let joy transcend

When she finished, but for the continuing guitar, they stood in silence for a couple of minutes. Then Kiri turned to look at Morgan. His throat worked a little, and he hoarsely began:

We are gathered at the end of life

To mourn a passing and end of strife

Our hearts are torn by his release

Our souls cry and hope he’s at peace

We all want to know why it ended this way

But none of us— are going to grasp it today

Kiri turned to look at Adam. He took the lid off the urn.

Lindl kept playing as they took turns sprinkling Daryn’s ashes in the little meadow.

Afterward, as they walked down the hill toward the car, Adam and Kiri wound up about thirty yards in front of Morgan and Lindl. Morgan had noticed they’d been acting awkwardly around each other a week ago, but whatever’d happened between them seemed to have smoothed over. They’d been getting along well and Kiri’d gone back to giving Adam shit at every opportunity.

Morgan felt at peace. He still regretted fighting with his brother as well as all the years they’d spent apart. But the first installment of the money from Matilda had come in so he felt confident that he’d be able to take care of his brother’s children. He even planned to give Arlette a few million—in memory of the good years they’d had together.

And, it was possible that Lindl and Kiri wouldn’t need any financial support from Morgan. Kiri’d been able to get Daryn’s alpha capture system to run, apparently without any difficulty. They’d sent a sample of the iridium to a potential buyer and Morgan couldn’t imagine why the buyer wouldn’t want it. Lindl and Kiri should easily be able to go to college on the profits from the iridium sales alone, though Lindl had been making more noise about skipping college and going on the road instead.

One difficulty was that Kiri’d been strangely resistant to naming the author of the quantum tunneling theory alpha capture was based on. Morgan felt fairly certain his niece and nephew could license patents on the technology for a tremendous revenue stream. However, he couldn’t seem to make Kiri understand how important it was that they reach an agreement with the theory guy before they began sales. Kiri was still claiming the guy’d given Daryn the theory, free and clear, but even if that were true, Morgan wanted to have legal, signed documentation of that fact. He didn’t want the guy coming around later to file a lawsuit.

Lindl cleared his throat. Morgan and he’d been walking quietly, side-by-side and Morgan had felt like it was a companionable silence. Now he glanced over at Lindl, concerned that he might not have noticed that Lindl was in distress. They were, after all, walking down the hill after a memorial service for the young man’s father. He took in Lindl’s face and decided the young man didn’t look distraught, though he did have a serious expression on his face.

“Uncle Morgan?” Lindl said.

Morgan nodded, “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. I’d like to tell you something in confidence. Something I need you to promise me you’ll never tell anybody I told you.”

Morgan looked over at his nephew, wondering what in the world this could be about. “You haven’t committed a crime, have you?” he said lightly, as if he were joking. Inside, he hoped he’d be able to laugh about the sudden fear that’d just come over him—once Lindl had told him whatever he was about to tell him.

Lindl said, “Oh. No, no crime. Just a secret.”

“Okay, sure. I’ll never tell anyone.”

Lindl’s eyes went back to the horizon as they kept walking, “You know how you’ve been badgering Kiri to tell you who developed the tunneling theory?”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan said, his stomach sinking. If Lindl thinks I’m “badgering” when he hasn’t even been there for most of my conversations with her, I must be really obnoxious. He said, “Maybe I’ve been pushing her too hard?”

“Well, yeah—” Lindl said, looking over at Morgan. “You really are bugging her about something that doesn’t matter, like she says.”

“But it does matter,” Morgan said, feeling a little irritated. “If we try to license the technology and the guy who developed the theory everything’s based on decides to sue us—”

Lindl put a gentling hand on Morgan’s shoulder. The fact that it settled on top of his shoulder suddenly reminded Morgan of how tall his young nephew was. He turned to look up into Lindl’s serious eyes. Speaking quietly, Lindl said, “Uncle Morgan, it’s her theory. Nobody’s going to sue.”

Morgan stared. His mind raced through his knowledge of the situation, trying to find evidence with which to reject what seemed a patently absurd assertion. He realized with some embarrassment that one of the things that’d kept him from considering this possibility was his assumption that a mature man must have come up with the theory. “But— What. Really?”

Lindl nodded solemnly. “My little sister’s astonishing in a lot of ways, but with math and physics she’s just— ungodly.”

“But,” Morgan said, about to protest that a fifteen-year-old girl couldn’t possibly have come up with the complex math in the theory, but then remembered her father’s brilliance at a young age. Rather than saying something asinine, he said, “Why didn’t she just tell me?!”

Lindl shook his head, “She despises braggarts. Besides, Dad told her to keep it a secret.”

“It wouldn’t be bragging. It’s just a simple fact. Something I need to know to manage the assets Daryn left you.”

“Now you know,” Lindl said softly.

“But— But—”

“Nobody’s going to sue,” Lindl said calmly, “You can simply accept Kiri’s assurance on that issue and do business without worrying about it. Then, there won’t be any reason to keep bothering her about it and… you guys can get along better.” He didn’t say anything for a couple of steps, then, looking out at the horizon, he said, “But for God’s sake, don’t tell her I told you!”

Thunderstruck, Morgan didn’t say anything for a while. Then he realized they were getting near the car. He touched Lindl’s arm and said, “My friend Satya, the particle physicist, he thinks it’s really important for the world, for everyone, that the theory be published so other scientists can start working on it.”

Apparently unperturbed, Lindl only shrugged, “Just suggest to Kiri that ‘Dad’s friend’ should publish the theory under a pseudonym, you know, ‘for the benefit of science.’ I’m pretty sure she’d go for that.”

The End

Hope you liked the book!

Author’s Afterword

This’s a comment on the “science” in this science fiction novel. I’ve always been partial to science fiction that posed a “what if” question. Here I ask, what if it was possible to markedly affect the frequency of quantum tunneling events.

Quantum tunneling refers to the ability of quantum sized particles to tunnel their way through barriers of various types. This phenomenon is very important in everyday life, from the way the sun fuses hydrogen to the way chlorophyll captures sunlight to store energy. It’s a problem with current transistors and might allow the creation of a new type of transistor in the future. If you want to look at a video of walking droplets acting like quantum particles, including tunneling, you could go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIyTZDHuarQ

The ability to modify tunneling would be incredibly valuable, though unfortunately it’s unlikely to be as easy as it’s portrayed in this story. A problem I’ve glossed over as the fact that (although fusion of small molecules like hydrogen releases energy) fusion of molecules larger than iron typically requires a lot of input energy. Presumably, even if you made tunneling easier, you’d still need to inject that extra energy with your device.

Alpha capture with loss of a proton is what Rutherford actually did in 1919 when he transmuted nitrogen into oxygen by hitting it with alpha particles emitted by a radioactive material. Thus, he added one proton and two neutrons to the nitrogen nucleus, transmuting it into oxygen. However, this becomes more and more difficult as you march up the elements, and when the nucleus gets larger than the iron nucleus, even stars have a hard time (thus you may have heard that much of the universe’s supply of the bigger elements is created in supernovas).

But what if you figured out a way to do it? One of the interesting things I learned while studying the periodic table for this story was how few places in it you can bump an element up with one proton and two neutrons and wind up with something more valuable than you started with (that isn’t radioactive). It’s also difficult to create the valuable radioactive isotopes with alpha capture. In the entire periodic table, rhenium> osmium> iridium> platinum is about the only good place to bump elements up and get more valuable products. Rhenium>> iridium is the only place where you wind up with a natural ratio of isotopes in the product (not that an unnatural ratio of platinum isotopes would keep your product from being valuable).

Acknowledgements

I would like to acknowledge the editing and advice of Nora Dahners, Gail Gilman, Jack Hudler, Philip Lawrence, Billy McCorkle, and, Scott McNay, each of whom significantly improved this story.