caused. The anxiety of addressing each of the past transgressions was inescapable.
Ryan decided to try the back door. He cautiously pulled open the screen and put his hand gently on the knob of the kitchen door. Slowly he turned the knob, and to his surprise, it wasn’t locked. He was free to enter the kitchen if he so dared, but hesitated, considering his options. Entering the kitchen presented the chance of catching his cousin off-guard, watching television in the next room. If the assumption was correct, he hoped to subdue Jarrod before he mounted a defense or fled the house.
Ryan gathered his courage, steeled his nerves, and slowly walked into the kitchen, ignoring the voice in his head telling him not to proceed. He was relieved that the door didn’t squeak, and very slowly closed it behind him. He was standing in Jarrod’s kitchen; his legs and especially his hands were shaking with nervous energy. All of his senses were hypersensitive: The clock on the stove ticked louder than he thought possible; the hair on the back of his neck bristled, alert to the dry warmth of the kitchen; his nostrils picked up the sweet smell of cinnamon wafting through the air. He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt, but knew there was no turning back. This was the moment he had waited years to face, yet he was almost paralyzed with fear. He took a gentle step toward the living area, trying to make his 250-pound body as stealthy as possible, but each step became excruciating.
Finally, he was able to cautiously peek into the living room. The television was tuned to a documentary but his vantage point didn’t allow a full view of the room. He still couldn’t locate Jarrod. There was a dark hallway he needed to cross for a better look, so he took a step forward to reorient himself. As he did so, he heard a man’s familiar voice say, “Hello, cousin.”
Ryan yelled, clutching the back of his neck as searing pain shot through his head, knocking him off his feet. He lay on the floor, jerking with involuntary convulsions as spasms of pain shot through his body. He had been Tazered by someone standing in the darkened hallway. Lying on his back, unable to move, he was only partially aware of being dragged further down the hallway before he lost all consciousness.
Ryan woke sometime later, disoriented and uncomfortable. At first his eyes wouldn’t focus and he couldn’t remember where he was or what he was doing, but eventually gathered that he was seated in a room full of computer equipment, his hands and feet held fast to a sturdy chair with plastic snap ties that were much too strong to break. A strip of adhesive tape across his mouth kept him from spitting out the rag that was stuffed inside. He felt like gagging as he struggled to break his restraints. Then he slowly recalled what brought him here, and wished he hadn’t ignored the small voice that warned of this eminent danger. He felt like prey that had fallen into the lair of a predator, only this predator cunningly expected the prey to arrive.
“Well, well, well…look who’s awake,” Jarrod Conrad glibly said. “When you decided to break into my house, I’ll bet you didn’t imagine you’d end up in this predicament, did you? You’re just as stupid and predictable as ever, Ryan. What did you think…you’d walk in and beat me up like the old days? Did you really think I wouldn’t be prepared for you to show up here? My kiss-ass graduate student played you like a fiddle; Millicent did exactly as I asked,” Jarrod scoffed, peering into Ryan’s eyes, about three inches from his face.
“Mmmh…mmuag…aah,” Ryan tried to shout, still struggling beneath his restraints, the veins in his neck and forehead popping from the strain. He was overcome with rage, realizing that Jarrod had once again gained the upper hand. He felt stupid and humiliated.
“Now, now, settle down, Cousin,” Jarrod said, patting him lightly on the cheek. “It won’t do for you to pop a blood vessel before we have a little fun. We’ve got much to discuss…wouldn’t you say? But, oh, what a pity, you can’t say anything now, can you? So you just have a listen before the police haul your sorry ass to jail. I really can’t believe how easy you’ve made this, Ryan.”
“Mmmhh…aaauh…” Ryan vainly fought to holler. He was so agitated that the restraints on his wrists were cutting into his skin. He rocked back and forth in the chair, trying to free himself with all his strength. His effort was useless; Jarrod had carefully prepared for his capture, having the Tazer and snap ties ready for use. Ryan was thoroughly at his cousin’s mercy.
“Okay, here’s how this’ll go down, Cousin,” Jarrod began again. “First, I want to know what happened to the equations you stole from my office. By now you’ve undoubtedly figured out they’re useless. Why else would you be here, right? You’re such a fool, Ryan; you always have been. You didn’t think I’d leave everything in my office without a contingency plan, did you? If you know anything about me at all, it’s that I’m suspicious and thorough. So…whoever has the plans knows it won’t work without the key, eh?”
Ryan briefly paused from straining. What Jarrod was saying caught his attention. Listening to the precautions taken to protect his discovery was not out of character. Ryan realized that whoever had stolen this data was going to be disappointed. This was a provocative thought and he stared at Jarrod questioningly.
“And secondly,” Jarrod continued, noticing the puzzled look on his cousin’s face, “I want to know how you plan to use my machine. I’m sure your technical people have diagnosed that the machine’s capacity is directly related to scale-the bigger the object, the more nuclear fuel is needed to overcome its gravity. What’s your cockeyed plan for getting the fuel you’ll need? Honestly, Ryan…I gave you more credit than this. Do you hate me so much that you’ve chanced going to prison? You won’t be such a big man in the slammer, Cuz. Someone’ll make you his bitch.”
“Auugh…mmmmh…” Ryan kept murmuring, rejoining his effort to break the restraints. Sweat was running down his forehead, the exertion against his bonds beginning to take a toll.
“Easy now, damn it. You really should get a handle on your temper. Now listen to me, Cuz. I’m going to take off the tape, but if you get belligerent…it’s going right back on, understand? Blink once if you agree,” he instructed, looking to see if Ryan would concur.
Ryan blinked and Jarrod grabbed a corner of the adhesive tape and tore it quickly from his mouth.
Ryan grimaced. “You son-of-a-bitch,” he began. “How can y… you think I had anything to do with this, uh… break-in of yours?” he stammered, his words shooting out like a jet of water from a high-pressure hose. He rushed to convey as much as possible before Jarrod replaced the tape on his mouth.
“I didn’t have anything to do with any break-in. You’re framing me. It’s you that vandalized the crane at my construction site,” he shouted. “You could have killed someone. I thought Virginia was a low blow, but this…Christ, man, you really are sick,” he said, straining forward in his seat, his eyes bulging as if he were possessed.
“Wait a second,” Jarrod replied, looking momentarily startled. “What are you talking about? I’ve never been anywhere near one of your construction sites. What possible reason would there be for me to tamper with your equipment? You, on the other hand, have a perfect motive for breaking into my office. You’re consumed with revenge-you can’t get past the practical joke I pulled in New York, which I know you enjoyed. Geez…I never thought Sarah would take it that seriously,” he argued, looking puzzled.
Ryan could see genuine confusion on his cousin’s face. It surprised him. He wasn’t prepared to consider the possibility that Jarrod hadn’t tampered with his crane.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Ryan said. “I don’t know anyone else even remotely capable of murder. There’s no one in the high-steel business that would do something this low-down; it means certain death. You, on the other hand have a history of such things. You hired someone to collapse my crane. What’s your plan this time… strip away my business, discredit me, put me in jail? I know this is your doing, Cuz,” he emphasized, throwing Jarrod’s derogatory nickname back in his face. “Now untie me, you miserable ass.”
“Really, Ryan…you can’t be serious,” Jarrod laughed. “I’m not about to release you. Aside from your outlandish allegations, which are wildly imaginative, you’ll stay tied up until the police arrive. You left evidence at the scene; there’s a manhunt for you over three states. I just thought we’d chat a bit, catch up on old times, and maybe you’d tell me what provoked you to break into my office. If you cooperate, maybe it’ll help you later. But make no mistake…you’re going to pay for this, Ryan. Now tell me who has the equations…not that it matters; I have everything backed up. The machine won’t work without me,” Jarrod said smugly, crossing his arms.
“Listen to me carefully, Jarrod: I-didn’t-break-into-your-office. I-don’t-know-who-did!” Ryan yelled, pausing to emphasize each word. “Any evidence was obviously planted to make it look like I was there. Do tell…what’s this evidence?”
“You left a handwritten note on LSI stationary,” Jarrod said, shaking his head in wonder, perplexed that Ryan was able to sound so convincing. “I admit…it seems a bit amateurish, even by your standards, but there’s also a strand of hair, which I’ll bet anything will match your DNA. But the most damning evidence is your knowledge of my password: Amerigodivina, a combination of Nono and Nana’s first names. No one but you could have come up with that word. Your goose is cooked, Ryan,” he said, looking like a prosecuting attorney who had just delivered irrefutable evidence to a jury.
“Damnit, Jarrod, don’t you see what’s happening? I didn’t know your password!” Ryan exclaimed. “You’re
