I’d been sitting inside and hadn’t heard a thing.
My shoulders slumped, and I was about to pick up what remained of the bowl when I saw a dark sedan snake down the street to park a few houses away. The nearby streetlight gave off enough light for me to see two figures inside. I felt cold all over. I knew with certainty that they were looking my way, waiting and watching. It was now official. I was in serious trouble.
UNCLE DONNY DROVE UP TO POPLAR HOLLOW the next day, right after the FBI called him to say that they wanted to talk to me again. He arrived in his shiny BMW, wearing a black suit and gold tie. Donny always looks good, but today I could tell he’d put a little bit extra into his appearance. The sight of him looking so sharp and confident made me feel better. He walked me to the car after taking one look at Ma, who’d hit the bottle kind of hard the day before; even though it was nearly noon, she was still pretty groggy. Uncle Donny told her she’d better stay home.
Once we were in the car, Donny turned to me and said, “How you doin’, kiddo?”
I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
“No, really,” he pressed, his brow all furrowed and concerned. “How are you?”
I almost laughed. It was ridiculous. “I’m fine, Donny. Can we please go?”
But Donny didn’t start the car. Instead he glanced toward the house, then back at me. “You can always come live with me, you know,” he said in a serious tone.
I swallowed hard. I loved Donny, but ever since my dad died, I’d had trouble with the city. In fact, it’d been one of the reasons Ma had moved us all the way out here. I’d started having panic attacks and couldn’t seem to concentrate at school. Some days in class I would shake so hard I couldn’t hold a pencil. Other times I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, and I’d nearly pass out.
The minute we moved out of Brooklyn, leaving behind all the noise and people, I’d settled down. But it was hard for me to go into the city to visit Donny for even a day without the shakes and shortness of breath coming back. I couldn’t imagine going there to live again.
Then there was Ma to consider. We were an hour and forty minutes by car outside of New York City, two and a half hours by train. I couldn’t leave Ma, because who’d get to her quickly if something bad happened?
“Thanks, Donny,” I said, “but I’m okay.”
Donny sighed and started the car, heading west.
Poplar Hollow, Jupiter, Willow Mill, and Parkwick are all villages technically within the city of Grand Haven, New York. Mostly, the villages circle Grand Haven like planets in a solar system, and the distinctions between the villages are measured more by the sizes of the houses than anything else. Willow Mill is a step down from Poplar Hollow, and Jupiter is a step up, but you’d need a ladder to get into Parkwick. The rest of Grand Haven isn’t so grand, though, and most of us kinda thumb our noses at it. We all have our own school system with about a thousand kids in each high school, except that Grand Haven itself has two high schools—North and South—and they have at least two thousand kids in each. Both of their football teams clobber our team every year, but we usually stand a fighting chance against the other schools. Still, it seems we’re always duking it out with Jupiter for second-to-last place.
Downtown Grand Haven is on the small side when you compare it to any other major city, especially New York, but every year it gets another few tall office buildings added to it. Now it even has two malls.
The bureau offices are downtown, about a block away from the police station in a building that’s new and trendy. Not the kind of place you’d expect to find the FBI.
Donny took up two slots in the parking garage so no one could park too close to his BMW, and then led the way to the stairs—he always takes the stairs—and we finally came out on the third floor. Donny’s footfalls were steady and sure as we wound our way through the maze of hallways. I was back on tiptoe.
At last we came out to a central catwalk that encircled the lobby below and wound around to a large staircase with a gleaming brass railing. Donny followed the railing up to a set of double glass doors with a stenciled sign that read, OFFICES OF THE FBI—GRAND HAVEN BRANCH. Before pulling the doors open Donny paused with his palm on the handle and said, “Remember, Maddie, don’t answer any question without looking to me to see if I approve; and if I do, just answer the question, okay? Nothing else. Don’t elaborate beyond the simplest answer.”
My mouth had gone dry as we’d stepped onto the third floor, and I wanted a glass of water badly. My legs were trembling, and I found it hard to concentrate on what Donny was saying. Still, I managed to nod when he looked at me and opened the door.
We walked in to find the place pretty busy for a Saturday. “They mostly monitor drug and weapons traffic coming in and out of New York City from here,” Donny whispered. That made sense when I thought about it, as Grand Haven sits right next to I-87, which heads straight to Canada.
Donny pointed to a leather chair in the lobby and I sat while he checked in with the receptionist. After letting the feds know we were there, she came over to us. Her deathdate read 2-12-2061. “Agents Faraday and Wallace will be with you shortly. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?”
“Coffee,” Donny said, flashing a smile. Donny’s a big flirt.
“I’ll take water please,” I told her.
After she came back with our drinks, Agent Faraday appeared and motioned for us to follow him.