فصل 24

CHAPTER 24

FEED THE BIRD

AFTER STOPPING AT A CHIPPER WHIPPER for gas and junk food, they drove the rest of the way to Kissimmee, reaching it just before dawn. They pulled to the side of a rural road and dozed in the car, waiting for a decent hour to go calling on F. Carmoody.

The blazing sun awoke them. It was only mid-morning, but almost ninety degrees. Hot, sticky, and grumpy, they drove to the address they’d gotten from the Internet—a one-story brick house set amid a clump of trees in an older neighborhood along Old Dixie Highway. The mailbox said carmoody.

J.D. pulled to the curb, killed the engine, took a breath, let it out. “I’ll talk first,” he said.

Sarah and Aidan followed him up the walk. He rang the doorbell. They waited. Nothing. He rang the bell again, longer. Nothing. He was about to ring it again when they heard shuffling footsteps approaching and a frail voice calling, “Coming, coming.”

The door was opened by a tiny old lady. She had paper-white hair and piercing blue eyes, and was wearing a prim, navy-blue dress. She regarded the sweaty trio doubtfully.

“Is this about magazines?” she said. “Because I have too many magazines already.”

“No ma’am,” said J.D. “This is about Pete Carmoody.”

The woman frowned. “What about him?” she said. “Who are you?”

“I’m John Aster’s grandson.”

The suspicion disappeared from the woman’s face, replaced by a radiant smile. “John Aster’s grandson! My goodness, you do look like John.” She looked at Sarah and winked. “He was a very handsome man.”

“So you’re…Mrs. Carmoody?” J.D. said.

“Pete was my husband, yes. He’s passed on,” she said, extending a frail hand. “Fay.”

“J.D. Aster,” he said. They clasped hands; he could feel the delicate bones beneath her skin.

“And these young people are…”

“These are, uh, family friends,” said J.D. “Sarah and Aidan Cooper.”

“Well, you just come right in,” said Fay. “I’ll make us some lemonade.”

It took her a while; she did not move quickly, and she used real lemons. But the lemonade was delicious; Aidan, Sarah, and J.D. quietly savored it and the welcome sanctuary of the cool and peaceful house while Mrs. Carmoody chatted happily about her memories of Princeton.

“But listen to me, going on and on,” she said, finally. “Tell me, what brings you young people to Kissimmee?”

J.D. said, “We wanted to ask you about something your husband might have brought down here with him from Princeton.” Something flickered in Mrs. Carmoody’s eyes, and for a fraction of a second her smile faded. When it returned it looked just the slightest bit forced.

“What do you mean, something he brought?” she said.

“Um, the thing is, I don’t really know what it looked like,” said J.D. “But it would have been a machine of some sort. A special machine, very unusual.”

Mrs. Carmoody shook her head. “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she said. “Pete didn’t talk to me about his work.”

Sarah leaned forward and said, “But do you know if maybe he kept a…special machine, here? In this house?”

Mrs. Carmoody was looking down at her hands. “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” she said. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

J.D., Sarah, and Aidan exchanged Now what? looks. Mrs. Carmoody looked up, her smile gone. “Well,” she said. “It certainly was nice of you to stop by.” She stood and began shuffling toward the front door.

They had no choice but to follow. The visit was over.

Mrs. Carmoody opened the door. “Good-bye,” she said.

“One more thing,” said J.D., stalling.

“Yes?”

“Um, did Pete…I mean, Mister Carmoody, did he ever mention anything about a bridge?”

She shook her head.

“What about ‘Rosey’?” said Aidan. “Did he say the name ‘Rosey’?”

“No,” said Mrs. Carmoody. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She opened the door wider.

J.D. stepped out, followed by Aidan. Sarah started to follow, then stopped in front of Mrs. Carmoody, looking down into the old lady’s eyes.

“Please,” she said. “We’ve come a long way, and we really need to know…”

“I’m sorry,” said Mrs. Carmoody. “I can’t help you.”

Sarah sighed. “All right,” she said. “Thank you for the lemonade.”

She stepped outside. Mrs. Carmoody started to close the door. As she did, Sarah caught a glimpse of something glinting just below the high neckline of Mrs. Carmoody’s dress. She stuck her foot out, stopping the door. “Wait a minute,” she said.

“Please remove your foot,” said Mrs. Carmoody, anger creeping into her voice. Sarah didn’t answer; she was fumbling with her T-shirt collar.

“Young lady, if you don’t remove your foot, I’m going to call…” She stopped, staring openmouthed at Sarah, who held, dangling from its chain, the golden locket J.D. had given her.

“Does this look familiar?” Sarah said.

Slowly, Mrs. Carmoody reached into her dress and pulled out a locket exactly like it.

“Please, come back in,” she said.

When the Georgia State Patrol car arrived, two cars—a Toyota Camry and a Ford Fusion—were crunched together in the middle of the intersection. It looked to the trooper as though the Camry had T-boned the Fusion on the passenger side. The drivers, both young women, were standing outside of the vehicles; nobody appeared to be hurt.

That’s good, thought the trooper. Less paperwork.

The trooper put on his flashers and got out to talk to the drivers. He was pretty sure he already knew what happened: the Camry driver was talking or texting on her cell phone, and she ran the red light. Happened all the time.

Except she swore that wasn’t what happened. She admitted that she’d run the light, but not because of her phone. Instead, she blamed birds.

“Like, a million of them,” she said. “Big black ones. I was, like, staring at them. I couldn’t believe it.”

The trooper looked at the other driver. She was nodding vigorously.

“I saw them,” she said. “They were going that way.” She pointed south.

The trooper sighed, and started filling out his accident-report form.

“Birds,” he muttered.

They quickly resettled in the living room. Mrs. Carmoody, ever polite, offered more lemonade; the trio declined.

“Now,” Mrs. Carmoody said to Sarah. “Why don’t you tell me where you got that locket.”

“It’s J.D.’s,” said Sarah. “I’m just wearing it.”

“And how did you get it, J.D.?”

“My father left it to me when he died,” said J.D.

“He specifically bequeathed it to you?”

“Yes.”

“All right, then,” said Mrs. Carmoody. “Then I’m supposed to give you this.” She reached behind her neck and, with shaking hands, unclasped her locket. She handed it to J.D.

“Pete gave this to me when he got sick and the doctor said he didn’t have long,” she said. “Pete told me never to open it or take it off, and never to give it to anybody unless that person had a locket exactly like it.”

J.D. was staring at the locket. “Did he say what that person should do with it?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“And you never peeked inside?”

“Never.”

J.D. looked at Sarah and Aidan. “What do you think?” he said.

“I think you should open it,” said Sarah.

“Wait!” said Aidan. “What if it’s full of…”—he glanced at Mrs. Carmoody—“…you know…”

“Aidan,” said Sarah, “he left that locket for a reason. He must have wanted the person who got it to open it.”

“I think you’re right,” said J.D. He turned the locket in his hands, finding the clasp. “Here goes.” He carefully undid the clasp, then opened the locket a tiny crack.

There was a burst of golden light, a rush of soaring sound. But as quickly as it came, it was gone. “My goodness,” said Mrs. Carmoody, smiling. “If I’d known it could do that, I might have opened it myself, no matter what I promised Pete.”

J.D. shook the open locket, frowning. “I guess that’s all that was in there,” he said. “Just a tiny, tiny amount. I wonder why.”

“Can I see it?” said Sarah.

J.D. handed her the locket. She held it open, peered inside. “There’s something written in here,” she said.

“What’s it say?” said Aidan.

“It’s really small,” said Sarah, squinting at the tiny engraved letters. “It says…okay, that’s weird.”

“What?” said Aidan.

“It says ‘Feed the bird…when Ben says.’”

“What?”

“That’s what it says,” said Sarah, handing the locket to Aidan, who read the lettering.

“What does that mean?” he said. “Feed what bird? And who’s Ben?”

J.D. looked at Mrs. Carmoody. “Does that mean anything to you?” he asked.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t,” she said. “I didn’t even know there was writing inside.”

“Was your husband friends with someone named Ben?” Sarah asked. “Maybe someone he worked with?”

She shook her head.

J.D. frowned. “Okay,” he said. “What about the machine?”

“Machine?”

“I asked you before if your husband brought a machine down from Princeton. That’s when you decided to kick us out.”

Mrs. Carmoody blushed. “I apologize for my rudeness. But I didn’t know I could trust you.”

“So there was a machine?” said Sarah.

“There was something,” said Mrs. Carmoody. “Something large that Pete brought down with us. He insisted on driving the truck himself. I could have wrung his neck for that.” She chuckled at the memory, then went on. “But I never saw it. He told me it was best if I didn’t know anything about it—he’d always had his secrets, with Doctor Einstein and the others. I always assumed it had something to do with national defense.”

“So he brought the machine here?” said J.D. “To this house?”

“Yes. There was a special room in the basement, same as we had in Princeton. Lots of locks. It was like Fort Knox.”

“Was?” said Sarah. “You mean it’s not still here?”

“No,” said Mrs. Carmoody. “He moved it out in…let’s see…it would have been 1971. I remember because that’s when I was finally allowed to remodel the basement.”

“When he moved it,” said Aidan, “did you see anything?”

“No, he did it in the dead of night. Some fellows from his work helped him. He made me stay in the bedroom. Wouldn’t even let me offer them coffee!”

J.D. leaned forward. “Do you know where he moved it to?”

She shook her head. “No. As I say, everything about it was a big secret.”

“You said ‘fellows from his work,’” said J.D. “Where did he work?”

“Oh, he worked many places,” said Mrs. Carmoody. “Consulting work, he called it. He was very smart, you know. And he could build or fix anything.”

“Do you remember which work these fellows were from?” said Sarah.

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” said Mrs. Carmoody. “As I say, I didn’t even see them. And it was so long ago. I wish I could be more helpful.”

“No, you’ve been great,” said J.D. “Thanks for your time.”

“Not at all,” said Mrs. Carmoody.

She saw them to the door a second time. They said goodbye and trudged back to the Volvo, which was now an oven.

“Now what?” said Aidan, as J.D. started the engine.

“First off, we need to find someplace safe,” said J.D. “The cops have to be looking for this car, so the longer we’re driving around, the more danger we’re in.”

“And we need to figure out what this means,” said Sarah, holding up the locket. “‘Feed the bird when Ben says.’”

“How do you know it means anything?” said Aidan.

“Because he left it for us,” said Sarah. “It’s a message from Pete. He’s trying to tell us something.”

“Like what?” said Aidan.

Sarah was staring at the locket. “Like where he put the bridge,” she said.