people at U of P, no doubt. So why not?
When Jack finished, Mr. Brussard looked like he had an upset stomach. “It’s at U
of P? For dating?”
“Yeah. Can’t wait for the results.”
“Neither can I,” he said in a flat tone. “Be sure to tel me.”
“Hey, Dad,” Steve said, clicking the cube back together and handing it to him.
“See if you can open it.”
Jack showed him, placing the man’s thumbnails in the seam as he’d done for
everyone else who’d tried.
“Now … pul them apart.”
Mr. B did just that—
And the box popped open.
“You did it!” Steve cried.
Mr. B didn’t seem surprised, but Jack certainly was. He didn’t know if he felt
relieved or disappointed that he was no longer the only one. He’d belonged to an exclusive club, with a membership of one. Now …
“Cool!” Steve said, snapping it back together again. “Let me give it another
shot.” Just then the doorbel rang. When Mr. B opened it, Jack saw a worried looking
man who seemed vaguely familiar. They shook hands in a funny sort of way, then Jack heard the newcomer say, “Gordon, we’ve
“Okay, boys. Got some business to discuss. Why don’t you two get back to work on the computer?”
“Okay,” Steve said. “We’re almost done.”
His father pointed to the cube. “You can leave that here.”
Jack remembered Weezy’s warning:
have to say anything. Steve did it for him.
“Uh-uh,” he said, stil fiddling with it. “I’m gonna get this yet.”
Jack took another look at the nervous man and suddenly knew why he was
familiar: Every few years he plastered his face al over the county during the freeholder elections. The freeholders ran the county, and Winston Haskins was
one of them.
The funny handshake, Steve’s remark about how his father was so involved in
the Lodge … did this have anything to do with the Lodge? Or the corpse? The freeholder had mentioned Mr. Sumter.
Jack burned with curiosity. He didn’t know what was going on, but things were
connecting in the strangest ways, and Steve’s dad seemed to be in the middle of it al .
He even could open the cube.
9
When they reached the basement, Steve put down the cube and produced two little bottles from his pocket.
“Look what I found.” He grinned as he waggled them in the air. “Airline bottles. My dad’s got a drawer ful of them.”
Jack took a closer look. Booze. The labels said one was Jack Daniel’s and the other Dewar’s Scotch.
Swel .
“Which one you want?”
Jack shook his head. “Maybe later. Hey, your father know Mister Sumter, the guy who died?”
“Sure. Didn’t everybody? Matter of fact, he was here last night, right after you left.”
“Here? What for?”
Steve shrugged and Jack realized he probably hadn’t been very alert at the time.
He could contain his curiosity no longer.
“Hey, I gotta go tap a kidney. Be right back.”
“Hurry up.” He twisted off the cap on the Jack Daniel’s and started pouring it into a Pepsi. “You’l miss al the fun.”
Jack padded up the basement stairs and paused at the top. The kitchen looked empty so he stepped out and peeked down the hal . He heard voices
