Shelton was right. I wanted to scream with frustration.
"The shooters took the dog tags," Ben said quietly. "That's why you can't find them."
"Then they replaced the skeleton with monkey bones. Making us look like fools." Hi whistled. "I'm going to catch hell."
"Not another word until we figure this out," I ordered. "Got it?"
The boys agreed. Someone clever was working against us. We couldn't walk blindly into any more traps.
Dejected, we rejoined the adults.
"Find anything?" Kit asked.
I shook my head.
"I'm sure you were frightened," Lorelei empathized. "In the forest. In the dark. Any loud noise could sound like a gunshot."
Shelton nodded meekly. No point arguing.
"Hiram Moshe Stolowitski," Ruth rumbled. "You're in big trouble, young man!"
Hi rolled his eyes, reconciled to his fate.
"Go easy," said Kit. "It was an honest mistake."
"Honest mistake or not, this little escapade killed my morning." Corcoran turned to Karsten. "In the future, doc, keep your own house in order."
"I did not invite you here," Karsten seethed. "But I am inviting you to leave. Now."
Sensing he'd overplayed his hand, Corcoran lumbered off down the trail. The rest of us fell in step behind him.
"There is another matter," Karsten called to our retreating backs. "A breakin occurred at Lab Six last weekend."
We all turned, clearly apprehensive. Except for Ruth, each parent worked in some capacity for LIRI.
"I'll be conducting an investigation," Karsten continued, an inquisitor confronting wicked souls. "I expect everyone's full cooperation."
"Of course," Kit answered. The other adults nodded.
"For openers, I want to know why these children are here so much. What they do. Where they go."
I started to protest. Kit's hand clamped my shoulder. Firmly. I got the message.
"For now, I'll only add this." Karsten smiled without warmth. "If I'd done something foolish, like, say, stolen something, I might try to misdirect the authorities."
Karsten's eyes drilled into me.
He suspected. And he wanted me to know.
"And what better way to divert suspicion," Karsten said, "than to fabricate a tale of masked marauders with firearms rampaging across the island?"
With that, Karsten pushed past us and strode down the trail.
CHAPTER 29
On the return trip, my mind spun wheelies. I couldn't believe what had happened. The skeleton was gone. We'd been humiliated.
What had we stumbled upon? Who were we up against?
Hi had it the worst. Ruth grilled him nonstop, firing a barrage of pointed questions. He bobbed and weaved with his answers.
Lorelei Devers was convinced that, due to nerves, we'd imagined the whole thing. Rolling with his mother's theory, Shelton emphasized how "chaotic" and "alarming" the night had been. Lorelei ate it up.
I felt a sharp pang of sadness. Where was my mom, to comfort me? Why did I always have to take care of myself?
Tears welled behind my lids. The sudden grief spread, threatened to overwhelm. I gave my head a quick shake, tried to dislodge the thoughts. I didn't want to go there. Not with others around.
Ben sat next to me. Kit had remained on Loggerhead and Tom was driving the boat, so we were alone. For now. A bit of luck on a day having none.
After Karsten's revelation, Kit had seemed less receptive to my version of events. Not outright suspicious, but definitely wary. He'd said that we "needed to talk" when he got home. I wasn't looking forward to that conversation. At all.
"We looked like idiots," Ben muttered.
"Total morons," I agreed. "And now Karsten suspects we're responsible for the breakin. Talk about bad mojo."
"They must've come for the remains," Ben said. "To dig Heaton up. We were in the way."
"I think so, too. They confiscated the skeleton and the tags, then planted monkey bones to discredit us." I sighed. "The bastards erased all traces of Katherine from that grave."
But the timing mystified me.
"After what, forty years?" I asked. "Why now? Why remove Katherine yesterday, just twenty-four hours after we learned about her disappearance?"
Ben shook his head. No answers.
I considered the last few days. I don't believe in coincidence. Something bothered me.
Synapses fired in my brain. Images. Sounds.
A seed of suspicion sprouted. Sent out roots.
Maybe.
I kept the theory to myself. I needed proof.
It was mid-afternoon by the time we arrived back at Morris. We'd missed an entire day of school. I stretched, tired. A nap beckoned.
But the gang needed to dissect today's fiasco. To tease meaning from the melodrama that had just played out.
How? Sneaking off to the bunker would be impossible.
"I'm texting Shelton and Hi. Download iFollow." I told Ben about the app Jason had shown me. "Load the program onto your laptop, too. iFollow has real-time videoconferencing. After dinner tonight, we can meet online."
"Will do."