The missing mortals, p.7
The Missing Mortals, page 7
“Is your dad okay?” Emma asked anxiously as soon as Doug entered the lounge.
“He’s okay,” Doug replied, his expression as grim as Emma had ever seen it.
“Was the chess piece on the mantel?” Sebastian couldn’t help asking even though it was apparent from Doug’s face that everything had been just as the author of the note had said it would be.
Doug didn’t reply; he simply nodded. It made him angry that someone could gain access to his dad’s private rooms so easily. He knew for a fact that his dad always kept the door locked when he was out. That left only two possibilities: either someone had a duplicate key, or there was another way, maybe a secret passage, into the suite. It didn’t really matter how the intruder had gotten in. What mattered was that his dad was in danger, and Doug was powerless to do anything about it.
“What about Lord Dinswood?” Martha asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“I checked on him too,” Doug answered. “He’s okay. He wished us good luck tomorrow and gave me this cap—said it always brought him luck when he was a boy.” Doug was silent for a moment as he tried to gain control of his emotions. In the short time he’d known Lord Dinswood, he had become like a grandfather to him. Doug knew that Lord Dinswood was very fond of him as well. It made him physically ill to think that from this moment forward they were going to have to lie to him. Assuming they were successful in locating the other six Mortals, they wouldn’t be able to tell Lord Dinswood. The thought of what would happen if they were unsuccessful was too awful to contemplate.
They sat in silence for several long minutes, each one thinking about how hard it was going to be to lie not only to Doug’s dad, but to Lord Dinswood as well. Every time Emma thought about the excited look on Lord Dinswood’s face as he had told them the story of the Mortals, she wanted to cry. Lord Dinswood was counting on them, and they were going to be letting him down in a big way. But disappointing Lord Dinswood wasn’t the only thing that had Emma on the verge of tears. Lord Dinswood was obviously ill. She had been hoping that finding the other Mortals would cheer him up and put him on the road to recovery. How was their apparent failure at the task he had assigned them going to affect his health?
“What are we going to do?” Martha asked, finally breaking the silence.
“We’re going to do exactly what this lunatic wants,” Doug replied angrily. “We’re going to find the sculptures and give them to him.”
“How are we going to do that?” Sebastian asked. “We’ve already made arrangements with your dad. He’s coming with us tomorrow to look for the second sculpture.”
“We’ll have to make sure we don’t find it, at least not when Dad’s with us.” Doug had been giving it a lot of thought. They would have to pretend to look tomorrow and then sneak back later without his dad to complete a more thorough search. It was going to be tricky though. Doug’s dad was not going to be easy to fool. They would have to be very convincing.
“That might work for tomorrow, but what about all the other places we listed on our sheet? He’ll expect to come with us when we search those too. He’s going to get mighty suspicious if we come up empty every time,” Sebastian countered.
“Not necessarily. Remember, we have no actual proof that the other sculptures are still out there somewhere. Lord Dinswood is only hoping that they are.”
Sebastian was beginning to see where Doug was going with this line of reasoning. “I get it,” he said, nodding. “Your dad knows about the arch, but have you actually shown him the list?” When Doug shook his head no, Sebastian continued. “After tomorrow, we’ll take your dad to random places. You know—ones that aren’t actually on our list. Of course, we won’t find anything. When we keep coming up short, your dad will become convinced that the other sculptures aren’t around anymore, and he’ll tell Lord Dinswood.” All of this was said without Sebastian’s usual enthusiasm. It was apparent from his tone that Sebastian would take no pleasure from deceiving Doug’s dad.
“It’ll break Lord Dinswood’s heart,” Emma said quietly.
“It’s the only way to keep him and Dad safe,” Doug said with a sigh. He hated the whole plan, but there didn’t seem to be any other way. Whoever had written that note meant business.
Doug found himself praying that the other six sculptures were still around and that the four of them would be able to find them. Although he wasn’t aware of it, the others were doing the same.
The next morning Emma, Martha, Sebastian, and Doug waited on the front steps of the castle. Each of them carried a backpack loaded with a canteen of water and sandwiches for lunch. The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky. The temperature was supposed to climb into the nineties by midafternoon, but even at this early hour, it was already stifling. Emma noticed that Doug was wearing the cap Lord Dinswood had given him. Dean Harwood had gone to get his Ford Explorer out of the academy’s combination bus barn and garage. The bus barn was located southeast of the boy’s dormitory and directly south of the chapel. Like the chapel, it sat back in the woods a little way so that in the summer, when the trees were all leafed out, it wasn’t visible from the school. A short gravel road led to the barn that housed not only the school’s six buses, but also the cars owned by the faculty.
While they waited, Doug took the opportunity to remind them of their plan. “Remember, we’re supposed to act like we’re really searching. Make it convincing. If you should happen to find something, you can’t let on, and you can’t tell the rest of us until we’re back at the castle and Dad’s not around. Got it?”
“Got it,” the others said in unison.
No one spoke after that. They were each contemplating the difficult day ahead. Doug had made it sound so simple, but they all knew that Dean Harwood wasn’t going to be that easy to fool. Emma just hoped they’d be able to pull it off. As Doug had said last night, lives were at stake.
Just as Dean Harwood pulled up in the Explorer, Miss Jennings came outside. Like the others, she was carrying a backpack. Thinking that, as one of the school’s science teachers, Miss Jennings would be interested in seeing a natural arch, Dean Harwood had invited her to come along. The kids had only learned that Miss Jennings would be accompanying them this morning at breakfast.
Emma couldn’t help wondering if Dean Harwood had had another reason for inviting Miss Jennings along. After all, he was an unmarried man, and Miss Jennings was an attractive single woman. Emma had always thought Miss Jennings was pretty. She had bright green eyes and shoulder-length chestnut-colored hair. Along with her pretty face, she had a nice petite figure and was, as near as Emma could tell, about five feet three inches tall. In addition to her physical attributes, Miss Jennings had the type of personality that made her a pleasure to be around. She smiled often and had a kind and compassionate nature. Emma could see why Dean Harwood would be attracted to her. She could also see why Miss Jennings would be attracted to him. With dark hair that was starting to gray at the temples and deep-brown eyes, he was an older version of Doug. He had a lean well-muscled build and, like Doug, was a couple of inches over six feet.
As soon as the SUV came to a stop, they all piled in. Miss Jennings sat up front with Dean Harwood. Martha and Emma sat behind them, and Doug and Sebastian climbed into the seat in the very back. Dean Harwood and Miss Jennings conversed casually as they drove along. Emma noticed that Miss Jennings called Doug’s dad Jake, and he called her Louisa. Their lack of formality surprised Emma until she realized it would be silly for the two of them to spend the entire day calling each other Dean Harwood and Miss Jennings. After all, they weren’t on a school outing. Today’s mission had nothing to do with school. It occurred to Emma that perhaps Dean Harwood and Miss Jennings were more than just boss and employee. They certainly seemed comfortable with each other. Emma turned around to observe Doug’s reaction, but he was busy looking out the window at the passing scenery. She considered asking him about it later but, in the next instant, decided against it. It really wasn’t any of her business, and she didn’t want Doug to think she was being nosy.
Emma looked out her own window and, putting thoughts of a possible romance between Dean Harwood and Miss Jennings aside, drank in the view before her. Tree-covered rolling hills led up to mountains in the distance. Due to the unusual amount of rain the region had experienced this summer, the trees and low-lying vegetation that flanked both sides of the highway were still a lush and vibrant green. Wild flowers in yellow, orange, and purple grew in profusion in the cleared areas and along the road. Emma never failed to appreciate the natural beauty surrounding the academy.
In no time, they were turning off the main highway onto the gravel road that led to Crawford Creek. When they came to the low-water bridge Lord Dinswood had described, Dean Harwood pulled the SUV off on the shoulder and parked. They would have to walk from here.
Everyone got out of the SUV and began adjusting their backpacks for the mile-long trek upstream. Doug noticed that his father was taking something out of the back end of the vehicle. When he saw what it was, his heart dropped into his stomach. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated. He began mentally kicking himself for not realizing that his father, who was an extremely intelligent man, would have the good sense to bring a metal detector along. The first sculpture had been found in a metal box, so it made sense that the others, if they still existed, would be as well. Assuming the second Mortal was buried somewhere around the arch, the metal detector would make its discovery almost a sure thing. Doug racked his brain as he tried to figure out what to do. One thing was certain. He could not allow his dad to find the sculpture. Maybe he could volunteer to carry the metal detector and then purposely drop it. Immediately, he rejected that idea. They might need the detector to find the other sculptures.
He looked over at Emma to see if she had noticed what his father was carrying. She was looking at him with an expression that bordered on panic. Not only had she seen the instrument but had correctly surmised the problem it posed.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered to Doug as soon as his dad was out of earshot.
“I haven’t got a clue. I was hoping you had an idea.”
“All I know to do is pray that either there’s no sculpture at the arch or that it’s in the water.”
“I guess that’s all we can do,” Doug said, taking off the cap Lord Dinswood had given him and running his hand through his hair in a gesture that was uniquely his.
“We could give the metal detector to Sebastian. He’s bound to mess it up some way or another,” Martha commented dryly after overhearing the exchange between Doug and Emma.
“Hey, I heard that,” Sebastian said. He had come up behind Martha as she was speaking. Whether she had known he was there or not was anyone’s guess. Sebastian didn’t seem to be angry though. His attention was riveted on the instrument Dean Harwood was carrying. “That’s one of the most powerful pulse induction metal detectors made.”
“In other words, we’re in major trouble,” Martha stated matter-of-factly, seemingly unsurprised at Sebastian’s apparent knowledge of metal detectors. Last spring, Sebastian had proven himself very knowledgeable where ships and sailing were concerned. Martha had since learned that Sebastian was actually very intelligent but didn’t bother to apply himself unless the subject was something he was interested in.
It was Doug who asked the obvious question. “How do you know so much about metal detectors, Sebastian?”
“My dad has a friend who’s an amateur archeologist. He goes relic hunting as a hobby and has a metal detector similar to the one your dad’s holding. Most metal detectors only work to a depth of a foot or less, but the one your dad’s got will detect a good-sized metal object to a depth of eleven or twelve feet.”
“That’s just great,” Martha said sarcastically.
Ignoring Martha’s comment, Sebastian said, “I wonder where your dad got it. That’s a pretty expensive piece of equipment.”
“I’d say Lord Dinswood got it for us to use,” Doug guessed.
“He sure does want us to find those sculptures,” Sebastian said with a shake of his head.
The others were silent for a moment as they considered the magnitude of the task before them. They were going to have to somehow avoid finding anything today and then find a way to return tomorrow on their own, all the while lying to Doug’s dad and Lord Dinswood.
Dean Harwood and Miss Jennings, who had already started walking upstream, turned back and noticed the four youngsters huddled together in a group as if they were planning a prison break.
“Hey, you kids coming?” Dean Harwood called cheerfully.
Doug answered his dad with a wave and then turned back to the others. “Well, we better get going,” he said with a sigh. “It’s going to be a long day.” He let the others go first on the pretense of needing to adjust the straps of his backpack. He let them get a little way ahead before he took Emma’s advice and said a silent prayer.
They trudged along in silence for a while, carefully picking their way over the gravel bar that paralleled the creek on the north side. A bluff that rose nearly one hundred feet bordered the south side. Under normal circumstances, Emma would have enjoyed the day and the scenery, but in addition to their current worries, it was so oppressively hot that she was soaked through with perspiration before they’d gone very far. Her clothes began sticking to her, and she started looking longingly at the deeper parts of the creek they passed. A mile hadn’t seemed that long when they were discussing it, but because of the gravel they were forced to walk on, it was taking much longer than Emma had anticipated. It was the better part of an hour before they reached the arch.
Dean Harwood and Miss Jennings didn’t seem to notice the heat. They continued to converse amiably the entire trek to the arch. Every now and then, Miss Jennings would laugh at something Dean Harwood said, and her laughter would drift back to the youngsters who were following several feet behind. Each time, Emma would look over at Doug, but he didn’t seem to notice. Emma guessed he was too worried about what they would find at the arch to care about anything else.
Finally, they were standing before the arch. It was a beautiful sight to behold—a natural rock bridge carved over eons of time by the passage of water. It was covered with grass and climbing vines and was tall enough that even Doug could walk under it without ducking. The Crawford Creek Arch, as it was called, was truly a wonder of nature. Miss Jennings had brought her camera along and immediately began taking pictures of the arch. She also took one of all of the youngsters standing beneath the arch and then one that included Doug’s dad. Not wanting Miss Jennings to be left out, Doug’s dad took one of her with the group. Miss Jennings was just starting to put her camera away when Doug did something that surprised Emma. He offered to take a picture of just his dad and Miss Jennings. They readily agreed, and as they posed beneath the arch, Dean Harwood put his arm around Miss Jennings’s back. Emma looked over at Martha to gauge her reaction. Martha raised her eyebrows and grinned slyly. Emma’s gaze then shifted to Doug. He was watching his dad and Miss Jennings with an unreadable expression.
Emma’s thoughts were interrupted when Dean Harwood announced that it was time to get down to work. With a sinking feeling, Emma watched him lift the metal detector and turn it on.
“I’ll search the area around the arch with this for a bit,” Dean Harwood said to the group. Then seeing how hot they were, he suggested, “Why don’t you guys cool off in the water for a while? Then you can get the dive masks we brought and start looking in the water.”
“Sounds like a good idea, Dad,” Doug agreed.
“When did you want to eat lunch, Jake?” Miss Jennings asked.
Doug had never told Emma his father’s given name, but she knew that Jake was short for Jacob. Of course, it was possible that Jacob was Dean Harwood’s middle name. Sometimes people went by their middle names, especially if their first name was something awful. Emma made a mental note to ask Doug about it later.
“I thought we could search for a while and work up an appetite,” Dean Harwood answered with a smile. “Everyone’s probably too hot to eat now anyway.”
Miss Jennings nodded and then said to the group in general, “We all need to make sure we stay hydrated. There’s plenty of water in your canteens, so don’t hesitate to take a drink every now and then. Don’t wait until you’re thirsty either. Sometimes by the time our bodies get the signal we’re thirsty, it’s too late to prevent heatstroke.”
“Good advice,” Dean Harwood said.
The morning went quickly even though the youngsters lived in constant fear that the metal detector would go off. Dean Harwood searched every square inch of the ground around the arch, but the detector remained blessedly silent. By lunchtime, Dean Harwood had concluded that if the sculpture was near the arch, it wasn’t buried.
They stopped briefly to eat the lunches they’d brought. Lunch consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chips, and apples. It wasn’t exactly fine dining, but it was nutritious and satisfying. Once lunch was concluded and all of the trash had been packed away in their backpacks, the kids and Miss Jennings continued their search of the water. This time Dean Harwood joined them. They spent the entire afternoon searching every swimming hole within shooting distance of the arch, but to no avail. There was no hint of a metal box anywhere.
Doug didn’t know how to feel about their lack of success. He hadn’t wanted his dad or Miss Jennings to find the sculpture, but he had hoped that one of the four of them would. It looked like they were wrong about the arch. They still had nine other locations to check, but time was running out. They’d better find something before the two weeks stipulated in the note, or… Doug consciously stopped that train of thought—it didn’t bear thinking about. He couldn’t, however, stop the niggling doubt that kept creeping into his brain. What if we’re wrong about all of the locations? What if there aren’t any sculptures to find? Doug took a deep breath in an effort to suppress the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. They would find the other sculptures, he tried to reassure himself. They had to.
