Harvesting Ashwood Minnesota 2037 (22 page)

“He’s away, Phoeb.” I walked next to Terrell, kept one of her hands tucked into mine. Magda fell into step next to me, placed her arm around my waist. Looped together we might have looked like Dorothy and her trio returning from the Land of Oz. In the distance I heard men’s voices exchanging heated words, some kind of commotion. But, the moment was devoted to calming Phoebe, returning her to safety, helping her find sleep.

“Put her in my room, Terrell.” My teeth chattered, my feet now felt the cold and stinging bruises. “I think I cut my toe on the garden rocks?”

“Keep your hands off me, you estate jerk.” A stranger’s words carried across the dark courtyard. “You can’t mess with the DOE.” I missed a step as I turned toward the voice.

“Keep walking, Anne.” Magda spoke close to my ear. “Lao has everything under control. Her arm pushed me forward. Phoebe’s hand pulled mine. Up the steps we climbed, into the open foyer. Magda closed the door, pressed the security pad.

“Your grandma’s waiting in your room with dry pajamas, Phoebe,” Terrell said. I nodded as he spoke, gave Phoebe’s hand a squeeze.

“She’ll help you change, then we’ll go back to sleep,” I added. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“We need your mom right now, Phoebe,” Terrell interrupted. “You’ll be okay with your grandma, little one?” She released my hand; her head dipping against his shoulder in the first stage of drifting back to sleep and away from whatever drove her outdoors.

Magda walked with me to my room, cleaned out a nasty scrape, and folded back the bed.

“Why wasn’t Sarah with Paul?” Some parts of yesterday stood clear in my sleep-dazed memory. “Do we need to get Phoebe?”

“Sarah said something about sleeping on a cot in a small space with a big snoring man that made her own bed look attractive. She’ll stay with Phoebe. You need to be a good manager and get some sleep.” Gently, but with strength, she pushed me against my pillow. “ Anne, you’ll need to have your head together in the morning.”

Before she dropped the blanket over my shoulders, we both noticed a spot of Amber’s dried blood on my hand. “My God, how’s Amber? I left her here with a towel.”

“She’s in the kitchen waiting for Terrell. Let me clean that off.”

“I can do it. Please go check on Amber.”

“Lady, you got to let others take care of a few people and get back to sleep.” She wiped my hand and arm with the same brisk action I used on my children. “There. Now go back to sleep. Believe me, we need you at your best in a few hours.”

Chapter Twenty

The little pink pill still slowed down my whole morning routine when I forced myself out of bed at the regular time. In the kitchen, Terrell looked a whole lot more alert than I felt. I reached for light switches, dimmed the main fixture.

“Sit down. You look like death warmed over.” He pushed a mug of coffee my way. “We need to talk.”

“What’s happened?” David sprang first to mind, then Paul.

“The yelling you heard as we walked in with Phoebe during the night was Lao confronting a DOE crew member who happened to be out shooting moonlight footage. I don’t know why. He caught Phoebe on film the moment she walked out the residence door.”

Coffee dribbled down my chin. I extended my neck over the counter while I swiped at the fluid with my fingers.

Terrell handed me a towel. “I filed a complete health assessment report last night about your fainting, so it’s on record that you were under my medical supervision, which included administration of a sleeping aid.” He leaned over to wipe a droplet from my neck. “Your concern about Phoebe’s sleeping arrangement is included, along with steps we took to assure her safety.”

Putting the mug down on the counter, I let the potential for disaster erase the feel of hot coffee on my skin. “How bad do I look in that film?”

“It appears that you are either on drugs or drunk—the fall, the pitch of your voice, a general lack of awareness.” He handed me a glass of juice. “Drink this and don’t ask questions.” I complied. “I was amazed that Amber was able to wake you, that you took care of her bloody nose and made your way outside. Young Phoebe has a determined mom watching out for her.” He took the juice glass from me. “There is nothing, and I mean nothing, stronger I could have administered. You should have been out cold for at least eight hours.”

The sleeping medication hangover began to lift. Terrell held up a hand and shook his head slightly. Two workers entered the kitchen. He asked them questions about the laborers’ dining room and sent them away.

Milan’s protection gave me some assurance that this event would pass. But I also knew such images lived long beyond a single day and could be altered or used for many reasons. I rose.

“Where you going?” Terrell asked.

“I want to be sure Paul was left alone overnight, then I’m going to my temporary office to send Milan a note. He needs to know about the security issue last night from me.” Terrell’s manner suggested I had not grasped the big picture of Phoebe’s nighttime walk.

“Paul is fine.” Terrell held up one hand. “Sarah stayed with Phoebe and the rest of the night was quiet. Dr. Frances, the therapist we discussed, arrives after lunch to begin work with Phoebe. I cleared that with Milan, who should be arriving soon.”

“Tell me what I’m missing. When did you speak with Milan?”

“When he called about an hour after Magda put you back to bed. After Milan spoke with Peterson.”

“Milan called you?” I tried to return to my chair. Terrell put a hand on my elbow and led me out of the kitchen.

In the hall he spoke again, his voice so low I leaned his way to catch the words. “Lao redirected all your communications to his reception after you went to bed last night. I thought you wouldn’t be able to respond to messages. Lao spoke with Milan first.”

Our footsteps took us nowhere. My irritation with Lao impeded my ability to read where our conversation traveled.

“Anne, Milan is on his way because Peterson filed a letter of concern about the parenting of Phoebe and Noah in the absence of their father.” I stopped, and he pulled me forward. I shrugged his hand away. “As their legal guardian, Milan must be with the kids within twenty-four hours of the filing.”

“This is a horrible mistake.” A sense of purpose jolted through emotion and replaced my early hypothetical worry about losing the children. Letters of concern permited the Bureau to immediately remove gifted offspring from their caretakers.

“Damn right.” In the light of Ashwood’s foyer I could see fatigue in Terrell’s dark eyes. “Lao’s been up all night piecing house security images to document what happened. Milan understands there are shenanigans involved, but a letter of concern doesn’t get lifted easily. I told Lao we’d meet in your estate office.” He activated the front door security pad.

“How did Phoebe get out this door?” I rapped a hand against the solid red surface. “She’s not cleared for nighttime passage from any outside door. A security alarm should have sounded.”  My mind wanted to stay away from what brought Milan to Ashwood and grabbed at the security break. “Since residence security is automatically activated each night, someone played with the system to make this possible.”

My friend stopped me with a gentle slide of his foot into the back of my sandal. “Anne, listen to me. There are bigger powers than Milan pulling strings. You and I know that Lao checked every angle of last night’s security. He probably knows how that door was able to open.” I waited, impatient to secure my hold on the children. “But a formal investigation has to take place regardless of Lao’s discoveries. Bureau protocols dropped into place at four forty-five this morning.”

Regular day laborers greeted us, and a few stopped to express concern about David’s fate. No one knew the coming days could challenge what I held almost dearer than my beloved—our children. He would have voiced the same priority. For both of us, nothing meant more than keeping the children secure and thriving. We had plans ready to execute to protect them from almost all the threats we thought our family might face. Almost.

Only one overnight staff member was at work in the estate offices this Friday morning. Mai, a favorite local woman who preferred nights in order to be able to care for elderly parents, easily did the work of two during the typically quiet down time. More important, she executed overnight commodity trades with brilliant strategy.

“Odd activity in the South American markets,” Mai said as we walked past her workstation. “We got the best price I’ve ever seen for our excess corn and snagged energy futures at rock bottom.”

Normally I’d stay to ask questions about the markets, but not today. She noticed Terrell and assessed him in the way of a single woman sighting an attractive man. He appeared oblivious as he hurried me beyond my office to a conference room.

Lao pulled out a chair for me. Breakfast waited on the table. Terrell passed fruit and yogurt in my direction. We settled with small talk about Mia’s trading comments. Lao set up his data pad.

“I’ve collapsed the security files so Milan will be able to see all that happened from the time Anne fainted through 5:00 a.m. this morning. Magda uncovered a few facts while taking care of Amber’s nose. There’s definitely a conspiracy in place to discredit Anne.”

I watched the images as Lao spoke. My faint in the kitchen passed quickly including my concern about Phoebe’s care. I became riveted by Antwone sitting against a wall in the hall near Phoebe’s room long after workers’ lights out. Terrell and I watched him blindside Amber outside Phoebe’s room, first tripping her, then swiftly kicking at her face. When Phoebe walked toward my door, eyes open wide but unseeing, he turned her toward the central hall and urged her forward with a menacing side-to-side swaying motion. She ran, and slapped at the front door, which opened. She never touched the security pad, never turned the door handle.

Simultaneous images caught Amber, face bleeding, following them. She was in pain, maybe shock, and crying as she turned back to my room. I averted my eyes as the hall camera caught my zombielike ragged rush through the residence, flight out the door and tumble in the garden.

“Security’s been broached, Lao.” Words I never had to say. “Somebody inside the estate set us up, hoping Phoebe would have a sleepwalking episode.” I sat back, piecing together words about Antwone.

“Antwone and I had a bit of a rough encounter the day Clarisse Smithson arrived. I reacted to more of his cocky street kid behavior.” Terrell made a small noise in his throat. “It wasn’t a big deal, but I know he was resentful.”

Lao looked thoughtful, but remained quiet. Terrell responded.

“He’s a kid with a knack for self-promotion,” he said. “Bent my ear with stories about all the chores he could do better or faster, but doesn’t seem to really do much. Knows how to talk a good game.” Terrell crossed his right ankle over his left thigh. “Jeremiah may have turned a blind eye to the kid’s laziness, but I’ve been keeping Mr. Antwone busy. He may be clever, but I’m not so sure he’s real smart.”

“Regardless, Antwone could not disarm Ashwood’s security,” Lao interjected. “Someone hacked our code so that door could be opened without a retinal check or thumbprint after the evening lockdown.” He turned the data pad back toward himself. “We found the hacker’s work, which appears to have originated yesterday from the only data pad on the estate with capability to work behind the firewalls of both the DOE and Ashwood—the one in Anne’s office.”

“I locked my office, but someone was in there before my meeting with Peterson yesterday. Peterson admitted taking what he called liberties with my office.” I paused. “You have that admission on file.” Lao agreed. “So we have a fairly strong case to connect Peterson’s people to what happened last night.”

“No doubt, Anne.” Lao added nothing more.

“You’re concerned about security right now.” I waited. “That’s why you look so worried?” David nicknamed Lao “Ashwood’s Dragon” because of his willingness to go extremes to keep Ashwood and our people safe.

Lao stood, pushed in his chair, leaned against a wall. Terrell and I watched his every movement. “Milan is bringing security experts with him today. I’ve already spoken with their leader.”

He licked his lips, stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “I’m confident they’ll find everything in order. What I am concerned about, Anne, is how you are going to hold up under the child guardian protocols while Milan does a formal investigation. Particularly with what we have learned about Mr. Peterson.”

Ashwood’s Dragon sent a fireball into the room. “Mr. Peterson has no DOE connection.”

“He told us that when he said he a military appointment similar to David’s.” I crossed my arms over my chest instead of fidgeting with my wedding band.

“That wasn’t exactly true, Anne.” Lao came back to the table, but didn’t sit. “Captain Peterson is head of an elite section of Special Forces. He’s been deeply involved in Paraguay operations for almost two decades. My inside source found a trail that suggests this is Peterson’s last opportunity for success before he faces reassignment to a desk job.” Lao stopped. “He likes to play psychological games with civilians. In fact, he’s known as a head job himself. Very unstable.”

In this windowless room, I could see nothing of the world David and I had built as a couple. Not the flower gardens we planted for relaxation, not the shop where he and Paul did woodworking projects, not swing sets for all the kids. I could only visualize the faces of four young children I loved, vulnerable to a man without controls.