Toys - James Patterson [28]
Except that someone I didn’t recognize was up on a ladder, working on the roof. It was a woman who had her hair tucked under a painter’s cap. She must have been a human my parents had hired to do the chores, although I didn’t recall them mentioning it, or ever doing that before. They’d always taken care of the place themselves. Well, they weren’t getting any younger, were they? Nobody was.
“So you made it here on your own,” the menial worker called as I climbed out of the car. “I’m impressed. You’re more resourceful than I would have guessed.”
The timbre of her voice registered immediately in my brain, and it was like I’d been zapped with a Taser—the woman was the leader of the gang of skunks who had attacked Lizbeth and me, the one who got away.
Chapter 38
I FOUGHT BACK wild surprise—and then a wave of rage—and managed a frosty smile worthy of my former rank and station at the Agency. Am I walking into an ambush? Are my parents here—are they even alive? I wondered, in that order.
“Well, well,” I said. “Last time we met, you tried to kill me.”
“If I’d tried,” she said, putting down a hammer and removing leather work gloves, “you’d be dead.”
Was the woman deliberately trying to provoke me? Clearly she and whomever she was working for were a step ahead of me. Maybe several steps. How was that even possible?
“Where are my parents?” I asked as I judged the height of the roof and got ready to leap up there, fight her, and kill her.
“They’ll be out in a minute to say hello to their favorite son. Calm down, Hays. No need for you to come up here and try out your fancy commando moves on me.”
This time her condescending tone—as if she were soothing an upset child—was a little too much for my nerves.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. You’re a common killer—a criminal and a skunk.”
“I guess by your standards I am. But by most other standards, you’re the criminal. How many humans have you killed in your life, Hays Baker?” she shot back. “Or have you lost count? And what does that say about you?”
Just then the front door of the house swung open, and out came my mother. She hurried toward me with a welcoming smile and open arms.
“Hays, darling, it’s so wonderful to see you! I’m so happy you’re here.”
Mom was thinner and noticeably older than the last time I’d been here, but her eyes were more luminous than ever. She looked healthy and spry enough.
“I see you’ve met Lucy,” she said, gesturing up at the roof. But then her eyes were back on me, her favorite son. Of course, I was her only child.
“What a sight you are,” she said, looking me up and down, then clasping me again in her warm embrace. Ah, the feel of her, the scent of her skin, the sound of her voice… I really was home, wasn’t I?
She finally stepped back, taking hold of my hands and looking me over again. “But for heaven’s sake—what happened to your beautiful hair?”
I ran my hand over my bald head. “It’s the new look in the city,” I said. Then I asked, “Who is she, and why is she here?”
My mother looked deep into my eyes, and then she said, “She’s here because she’s your sister.”
Chapter 39
I IMMEDIATELY SWIVELED my head back and forth from the smart-mouthed criminal—and, perhaps, murderer—up on the roof to my mother. My mom was clearly not under any kind of duress or threat. If anything, I sensed embarrassment coming from her.
“What do you mean, my ‘sister’?” I asked the obvious question.
“We just couldn’t tell you about Lucy. It would have been too risky,” my father said, stepping out of the house. “It was too important that you accomplish what you’ve done so well. Become one of them. Become an Elite bastard.”
What the hell was going on here?
What was my father talking about? What had they done? Had my parents played me like some sort of unwitting pawn? Had they purposely set out to make me a traitorous “bastard”? Was I a sleeper agent?
“Come with me. Please, Hays,” he said. “Just come. I have something to show you.”
I obediently followed him to the outbuilding that he used as a workshop. It was all so very