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“Schmuck,” Cassie said.

The Provost’s car drove up almost to the house. Two police cars hummed in after him. The driver got out and then opened the back door for the Provost. He was already scowling and tugged his suit jacket into place. The cops got out of their cars.

The rest of the crowd clustered around in the road outside our fence.

The Provost held up his hand for silence, and all the murmuring stopped.

Cassie stepped forward. “Is there a problem?”

“You bet there’s a problem!” the Provost yelled so that everyone could hear. “The two of you are trouble! You’re the definition of bad citizens!”

The crowd murmured behind him, some people looking angry.

“Can you be more specific?” Cassie asked. I was impressed—the only thing I could think of to say was a bunch of cussing. But she was holding it together.

“You’re a bad influence!” the Provost said. “You’re deserters! You left the cell! You made my son leave, too!”

I stepped forward, ready to tell him where to get off, but Cassie held up a hand.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

The Provost looked taken aback. “What?”

“First,” Cassie said, “we didn’t leave voluntarily. We were kidnapped.”

That was stretching it, but whatever.

“You were not kidnapped!” the Provost said angrily.

“We were kidnapped,” Cassie said firmly. “Just like other kids from this cell. And Nate—your son—heroically tried to save us.”

Okay, okay, I thought. This is good.

The Provost was speechless for a moment. But only for a moment.

“You led him astray! You made him leave the cell!”

Following Cassie’s lead, I said, “How could we possibly lead Nathaniel astray? You know how loyal he is to you and the cell.”

Provost Allen looked trapped. Was he going to announce that his son wasn’t loyal, in front of everyone?

“Becca was kidnapped,” Cassie said strongly. “As her only sister, I had to try to find her. Then I got kidnapped. Nate, being a good friend and an amazing person, tried to find us. And he got taken as well.”

“By who?” someone in the crowd shouted.

“There’s a prison,” I said. “A prison just for kids. We were all taken there.”

More surprised murmuring. But Cassie wasn’t finished.

“And we—all of us—have to go there right now and save those kids!” she cried.

103

CASSIE

“WHERE IS THIS PRISON?” a woman yelled. “Are any of our kids there?”

“Some,” I said. “Not all of the ones who are missing. We saw Kathy Hobhouse there, and she said she’d seen Livvie Clayhill. But there’s other people’s kids there—hundreds of them. Kids whose parents are just as worried, just as frantic, as we are. Those kids need saving.”


Tags: James Patterson Crazy House Mystery