misplaced.”
Jack wasn’t buying. He didn’t know who ran the Smithsonian, but since it was on
the mal by the Capitol, he was pretty sure it was the government. The man in the suit in the Barrens last night—he worked for the government. Jack
didn’t know what branch, or whether state or federal, but the way he gave orders to the state trooper made Jack pretty sure he was with some high-up
agency.
High up enough to send one of its people into the Smithsonian to steal a
package between the mailroom and the professor’s “col eague”?
Absolutely.
“You have our phone numbers, right?”
The professor patted his desktop. “Yes-yes. Right in here.”
“Good. Please cal me first if you hear anything, okay? Good news or bad news, cal me first?”
“If you wish, of course. But I am sure it wil be good news.”
Jack was just as sure of the opposite.
He found Weezy out on the sidewalk, getting on her bike. She had an angry expression and tears in her eyes.
“This is al your fault, Jack. I just wanted to keep it, but no, you had to talk me into letting other people look at it.”
“Me?” He had trouble hiding his shock. “We both agreed we wanted to find out what it was, and the only way to do that was to show it to people who
might know.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s al your fault. I hate you, Jack! HATE YOU!”
As she started pedaling her bike back toward 206, Carson Toliver pul ed his convertible in by the curb.
“Hey, Weezy,” he cal ed.
Without looking at him she yel ed, “Shut up and leave me alone!” as she passed.
He blinked in surprise and looked at Jack. “What’s up with her?”
“She’s having a bad day.”
He smiled. “Oh. I get it. I know al about that from my sister.”
Jack started pedaling away. “Yeah,” he said around the lump in his throat.
Let Toliver think what he wanted. Jack wasn’t going to try to explain.
He found Weezy on the other side of 206. She’d stopped and was waiting for him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, head down, staring at the ground. “That was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t mean it.”
Jack felt the lump in his throat start to shrink, but he kept cool. Couldn’t let on how she’d gotten to him.
“So you don’t real y hate me?”
She looked up at him. “I could never hate you. I’m just mad at the world right now and I needed someone to blame and you were closest. I never should
have said that.”
Jack hid his relief. “Forget it. I knew you didn’t mean it.”
Not true. Crossing the highway he’d been trying to imagine life in this tiny town without Weezy to talk to and hang out with.
“Besides,” he added, “it was part mine too.”
“Yeah, but you don’t seem upset.”
He shrugged. “What’s the point? Getting upset isn’t going to help us get it back.”
“You’re too logical. Maybe that’s what made me lose it.” She shook her head. “There must be
“You mean, like go to Washington and help them search?”
“Of course not. It’s gone from the Smithsonian. They’l never find it there. It’s probably back in the cube, waiting to be used for whatever it’s used for, or
buried again.”
The cube and the pyramid … hundreds of miles apart, yet both stolen, and both thefts within hours of each other. It smacked of an organization with a
long reach, which fel right into line with Weezy’s conspiracy theories.
