Page 33 of One Knight Stand

“No, sir. But they were talking earlier about possibly staying at Miss Chang’s house. We have eyes on that house now, but it’s dark. If they’re in there, we won’t know until the morning.”

Isaac’s irritation grew. “How is this even a problem? We’re the NSA. Can’t you follow the girl’s phone or get a lock on Miss Chang’s phone?”

“That’s the problem, sir. Both phones are turned off.”

Two teenage girls with their phones turned off? Was that even possible? Did they suspect something? Their behavior certainly didn’t suggest that, but who knew what went on in the mind of girls that age?

“Just get me eyes on the daughter as soon as possible. That’s imperative.”

“Understood. I’ve asked for more surveillance bodies, but we are running out of resources. Two watching the mother’s apartment round the clock, and two—including me—on Miss Chang’s home residence. We’ve got another team on her devices, and now on Miss Chang’s.”

“What about the rest of her friends? The ones that were passed through to UTOP with her? She went to her mother’s apartment today with one of them—a boy.”

“That would be Jaxson Drummond. The tracker on his car is still functional and confirms he remains at the hotel where some of the UTOP students are staying while their buildings on the campus are being remediated for asbestos. We’re working on getting information on his phone and the others’, too.”

“Good. She may try to reach out to them.”

“Don’t worry, sir. She’s sixteen, and we’re the NSA. We’ll find her.”

ANGEL SINCLAIR

“Wow, this place is great!” Frankie set her suitcase on the couch in the living room of the farmhouse and twirled around. “There’s not a lot of furniture, but I love the country decor.”

Mr. Toodles ran around checking out the house, his little furry bottom wagging happily. I carefully put my backpack with my computer equipment on the large unfinished slab of wood that currently served as the dining room table before placing the key to the house on a little hook near the front door. Mr. Matthews had told me I’d find the key beneath the third pot to the right of the door. Sure enough, it’d been exactly where he’d said.

Now I joined Frankie in the living room, looking around at the space. I knew nothing about decorating or decor, but everything did seem to be made of wood or have an earthy tone or color. A giant stone fireplace, a roughly hewn wooden coffee table, a dark-brown sofa, and three throw pillows featuring deer did make it feel like a country theme was going on.

“I never saw Mr. Matthews as the outdoorsy kind of guy,” Wally said, dropping his stuff near mine and joining us. “Guess I was wrong.”

“There’s a lot of stuff we don’t know about Mr. Matthews,” I said. “But thankfully, he’s around so we can ask him.”

Frankie shivered as she reached down to pet Mr. Toodles. “It’s cold. Can we turn on the heat?”

“Mr. Matthews said it was okay. Wally, can you find the thermostat and take care of that? Frankie and I will try to figure out this fancy remote to get the gas fireplace going.”

He wandered off while Frankie and I pushed assorted buttons on the remote until a fire sprang up.

“Wow,” I said. “Much better than having to haul in wood and ignite kindling.”

“This is a really nice house.” Frankie held her hands out to the warmth. “I’m so glad Mr. Matthews is rebuilding his life and moving out here where he can have more friends and family over. Thanks to you, Angel.”

“Thanks to us,” I corrected her.

Mr. Matthews, a decorated veteran wounded in combat and now serving as the vice principal at our old high school, had recently been in some trouble not of his making, and Frankie, Wally, and I had helped clear his name. I liked the idea that he’d taken such a bold step and decided to move out of his tiny apartment just a few months after being framed for murder. He deserved a nice house, lots of friends, and a long, wonderful life after all he’d gone through.

“We’re all set,” Wally said, coming back into the living room. “Nice fireplace.”

“It is,” I agreed. “I forgot to ask, did you park the car in the barn?”

“I did, and there’s plenty of room for the other cars when they get here. Mr. Matthews doesn’t have any tractors, equipment, or animals in there…yet.”

“Oh, how cool. I wonder if Mr. Matthews will get horses,” Frankie mused. “Do you think he’d let us ride them?”

I had no idea, and frankly, being on top of a horse, given my proclivity to accidents while doing anything remotely athletic, meant I wasn’t going to be first in line if he did. Now Frankie, on the other hand, would be ready to ride at a moment’s notice. After learning how to sit in the saddle, her first question would be to ask Mr. Matthews how to make the horse go fast.

I already felt sorry for the horse.

“I don’t know. But if he does, you can ask him.” Itching to get my hands on my laptop, I motioned to the dining room table where Wally’s and my backpacks sat. “Wally, let’s get set up, okay?”

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