Altercation by Tamara Hart Heiner Page B

pointed the way they had been heading. “It stopped there. A man got out, called to them. The girls hurried in and I drove off.”
    “No one pursued?”
    “I don’t know. If they did, they didn’t catch us. But the men must have gotten the plate number. They traced the car to Chris and went to his house.”
    Carl nodded, fingers itching with anticipation. This gave him something. Jaci had said they came down a mountain. Where he and Natalie stood was the downside of a slope. The other lane bordered the upside. All he had to do was drive around and find the roads that went up the mountain. For a van to get up and down, it would have to be obvious and not too steep.
    “Natalie, you’ve been great. Let me take you home.”
    Carl came back two hours later with a full police escort. They fanned out behind him, making it impossible for anyone to get by on the road.
    Three miles from where Natalie had picked up the girls, he found a gravel drive with a chain-link fence on either side. His heart pounded. This matched the description.
    Five police cars trailed him up. Though he couldn’t see the sixth one, he knew it sat in an obscure place to watch in case someone showed up.
    He checked the odometer. It had only been four miles, but on gravel at a snail’s pace, that took almost twenty minutes. Finally, he rounded a bend and a white plantation house appeared on a concrete bed.
    Even from this distance, Carl could tell the house wasn’t occupied. The opened front door hung askew. The automatic garage door lay in a crumpled heap, the bare garage gaping for all to see. Huge holes riddled the four-story building.
    He parked and got out of the car. Several of the officers climbed out as well. He glanced at them, his triumph tinged with a bitter disappointment. He wasn’t going to find The Hand here. “Well,” he sighed, “guess I’ll go look for clues.” He jogged up the decorative porch, trying to gather his optimism. If there’d been a fight, The Hand probably left in a hurry. He might not have cleaned up nicely enough.

Chapter Fourteen
    A ll right!” Agent Banks closed the door to the conference room and rubbed his hands together. “I know we’re here to discuss today’s schedule, but first I’ve got news for you.”
    The six teens stared back at him without enthusiasm.
    “Detective Hamilton found The Hand’s residence in Canada.”
    Jaci gasped. “Thank heavens! When?”
    “This morning.”
    “Did he catch him?”
    Banks shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Looks like The Hand cleared out. Hamilton found the attic you spoke of. He’ll dust for prints and vacuum for DNA, but he said it looks like the house went through a war. Parts of it have been blown away.”
    “So where is he now? The Hand, I mean?” Sara asked.
    “We don’t know. Don’t worry, though. We’ll get him.” He glanced around the table. “Now, to business. You know that Ricky and Neal are leaving.” He eyed the two boys. “We’ll drive you to the launch pad in two hours, and you’ll fly out via helicopter. We can’t tell you any more than that you’re going to New York.”
    “What about my probation?” Ricky asked, rocking his chair back on its hind legs.
    “We’ll work out a punishment for your indiscretions later.”
    “This is ridiculous.” Sara stood, knocking her chair over. “We have the right to know! Those are my brothers!” She pointed to Neal and Ricky. “We should be together!” She ran to the door and slipped out.
    Banks cleared his throat. “You’ve got two hours, boys. Be ready. Dismissed.”
    Neal rubbed his forehead. “I guess we better get ready to go. We’ll be in our room.”
    Ricky caught Jaci’s eye. “Check on Sara, will you?”
    Jaci wrapped her arms around her torso, sick at the thought of not being near the boys. She hadn’t realized how safe she felt with them nearby. “Yeah.”
    He stepped closer and touched her elbow. “You okay?”
    Jaci shook her head and backed away. “Yeah.”