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  Chapter 4

  Silas lived in an enormous, sprawling, Bavarian-style home on a seven-acre lot. With enough space to room a football team, Silas only allowed his housekeeper, Rosa, to share his home. Rosa was a sullen, severe-looking woman who spoke even less than Silas. As a matter of fact, she didn’t speak at all. She wore her dirty, brown hair up in a loose bun, coarse strands falling out from it in tufts. Her dress might have been what she considered a uniform, but to Alex it looked more like an old smock, worn and stained. The moment he and Silas arrived she appeared soundlessly, as if she had been expecting them, and disappeared just as soundlessly after introductions had been made.

  “She is very efficient,” Silas informed Alex, “and prefers not to be disturbed.”

  Alex was certain that he would have no problem with that.

  While they were still standing just inside the front door, Silas made it a point to tell Alex that he was not his nursemaid, babysitter, or some incarnation of a long-lost uncle. Alex was in his home by court mandate and, more importantly to Silas, by request of Alex’s father. He had no problem allowing Alex free roaming rights so long as it did not interfere with any of his personal time which, as Alex learned quickly, was virtually nonexistent. Like Alex’s father, Silas spent most of his time at the lab.

  “You are free to come and go as you please,” Silas told him indifferently, “but if you will be away overnight, you will inform me. Is that understood?”

  Silas’s rules were easy enough to follow. Alex had nowhere to go even if he’d wanted to. Silas was the last person he wanted anything from, and he most definitely had no interest in getting to know the stern-faced Rosa—she fit right in the same category of creepy that Silas did.

  Silas showed him to his room, pointing out the kitchen along way with a long, bony finger.

  Every room was silent. In a strange way, the house felt expectant, almost as if it was waiting for something to happen, or perhaps afraid to disturb Silas. There was no hum from appliances. There was no creaking from the floorboards. Even the air was motionless.

  And the house was spotlessly clean, immaculate to the point of being antiseptic and uncomfortable. In one of the dim rooms they passed, Alex noticed clear plastic wrapped around the couch cushions. What kind of person wraps their couches in plastic?

  Silas stopped abruptly in front of a second-floor door. He pushed it open and nodded, indicating that it would be the room where Alex would be sleeping. Without entering, Silas announced that he was leaving, going back to the lab. He turned on his heel and departed without so much as a goodbye, leaving Alex with dozens of unanswered questions and the uneasy feeling that if Dad didn’t turn up soon, his life will have taken a drastic turn for the worse.

  He spent the remainder of the day sitting on the edge of the bed with his NanoPhone beside him, praying his dad would call and tell him he could come home.

  It didn’t happen.

  The next morning, the police came to the house. They asked a lot of questions, but in a perfunctory way, as if the situation was something they dealt with all the time and didn’t warrant real concern.

  When the officers asked whether his father had been acting strangely or if he’d said anything that might lead Alex to believe he might take his own life, Alex got so angry he almost lost his temper. Dad would never do that. Not that his father hadn’t gone through short bouts of melancholy after Mom had disappeared, but never on a scale that would warrant suicidal thoughts.

  When the police finally left, Alex felt more miserable than ever. Their questions had seemed routine at best, possibly even orchestrated. There had been no real intensity in the way they spoke, as if the entire issue was just one big eye-roll and Alex’s worries were unfounded.

  It was becoming obvious to Alex that the only person who really cared that his father was missing was him.

  For the next two days, Alex stayed in his room. Silas never came to check on him, not once, so Alex made an executive decision for himself and cut class. He would worry about the repercussions later. Finding his father had to be his first and only priority.

  Although it wasn’t terribly comfortable, his room was very large, easily big enough to keep him from feeling claustrophobic. There was a big double-window that looked down into the front yard and an old but well-kept desk pushed up against the sill. The closet was almost as large as his room at home. Alex hung up the pitifully small amount of clothing he’d brought, hoping he would never need to bring any more.

  One thing was certain—Alex would never stop looking for his father. The fact that both his parents were now missing without a trace—far too much of a coincidence.

  The search had to start now. Alex did not want—would not allow himself—to sink into despair. During the first month after his mother had disappeared, after it really sank in that she wasn’t coming back, he’d gone into a depression so deep and consuming that he’d completely shut down. He’d slept for days on end, ignoring everything and everyone around him, missing a huge chunk of school and losing almost fifteen pounds in just a few weeks.

  His father had tried everything to pull him out of it; long talks, long walks, doctor visits, pills, psychiatrists, and even a five-day vacation to Hawaii had all failed. Dad had resorted to the only thing he had left to reach his son with: their shared love for Mom.

  Dad had marched into Alex’s room, pulled him from bed, and, like a fireman, flung him over his shoulder. Alex had been indignant, kicking and screaming the entire time, but his father ignored the tantrum and resolutely carried him down the hall to the master bedroom. When Dad put him down again, it was in front of a large, framed photograph of Mom.

  “Look at her,” his father had demanded. Alex had quietly begun to cry and tried to turn away, but Dad had forced his head back to the photo, holding it firmly in place with both hands. “Look at her. What do you see?”

  Eleven years old and confused, Alex had tried to pull away again, but Dad’s grip had been too strong. He’d begun crying even harder. “I see Mom!” he wailed.

  “Look again!” Dad had demanded.

  Dad was being mean and forceful, he was never like that. Alex had no idea what he’d wanted him to say. “It’s Mom!” Alex cried out. “I see Mom! That’s all I see! I don’t know what you want!”

  Still holding Alex’s head, forcing him to stare at the picture, Dad had said, “How about love? Compassion? How about commitment to family—to you, to me? I see a woman who loves you more than anyone in the world! Beauty, intelligence, determination—I see all of that and more when I look at this photograph!”

  Tears were streaming down his father’s cheeks by then too, but he hadn’t stopped there. He’d taken Alex by the arm and pulled him in front of the full length mirror that hung on the back of their bedroom door. “Now tell me what you see.”

  Alex had seen himself: a miserable, pale, emaciated wreck of a child. His eyes were sunken and lifeless, his arms and legs spindly and weak. “I see myself,” he’d said shamefully.

  “What else?” Dad had asked quietly.

  “I look sick.”

  Grimly, his father had nodded. “Is this what you want your mother to see when we find her?” Alex gave a small start and looked harder at his reflection. “We don’t know what she’s going through right now,” Dad had told him. “We don’t know where she is. But if she hasn’t been able to come back or call, you can bet it’s probably nowhere she wants to be.”

  Alex stood a little straighter. He looked up at his father’s reflection and received a nod, encouragement for him to continue looking at himself.

  “Do not let your mother believe that while she was gone you did nothing,” Dad said quietly. “It would break her heart, and eventually it would break yours too.”

  Alex took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. It was heavy stuff, especially for someone his age, but Dad’s message had struck home.

  “I’m hungry,” he’d said, and Dad had smiled.

  But Dad wasn
’t here now. This time, Alex had to be the strong one. Nobody was going to yank him out of bed and tell him to get it together. He had Leeann, and he knew she would be there if he needed her, but he was sure this was big. He didn’t want to involve her if he didn’t have to.

  Those first two days, he left his room only for bathroom breaks and eating. Silas was always gone, presumably at work. The house was so big Alex worried he might end up lost in it, so he didn’t press his luck and go exploring. Anyway, he didn’t care. He wasn’t staying any longer than absolutely necessary. Someone as strange as Silas was bound to have a few oddities in his home. Alex had no interest in knowing what those might be.

  The furthest he ever ventured was to the kitchen where there was always the same food: milk, cereal, bread, sliced ham, and individually-wrapped cheese slices. There was never anything else. The cereal was on the counter next to the refrigerator and the rest was neatly placed on the top shelf inside. Every cupboard and drawer was empty—clean, but empty. It was as if Silas never ate and the only reason there was food in the house at all was for Alex.

  Rosa was always there, but she stayed peripheral, always just leaving the room, perhaps even afraid. Of what, Alex had no idea. She was so skittish he felt like it would be rude to try talking to her, like it would be an intrusion, or maybe get her in trouble.

  He spent both days jotting down notes, brainstorming, trying to tie any of his father’s recent actions, behaviors, or things that’d been said to his disappearance. Unfortunately, there was very little. Alex spent more time pacing the room or staring out the window than he did writing down anything of value.

  So when Silas came to fetch him on Friday morning, the third day since his father had gone missing, Alex was happy to see the tall, dour man for the first time in his memory.

  “If you aren’t going to pursue your education,” Silas announced from outside the bedroom door, “perhaps you should come to EMIT with me. It is possible you may be of some use.”

  Alex needed no convincing. He’d thought himself in circles over the past forty-eight hours and still had no idea where to begin. EMIT was exactly where he wanted to go next, and even though creepy Silas was the one who’d be getting him there, he had no problem taking another silent ride if it meant a chance to get closer to finding his father.

  At EMIT, Alex was shown to his father’s office and told not to leave unless he had an escort. He spent the morning pouring over the contents of his Dad’s desk and computer, rifling through drawers and sifting through files. Many hours later, eyes burning and head aching, he had found nothing interest.

  At lunch, he asked permission to speak to some of the staff.

  Employees told him the police had come to the lab as well, but it was the same as it had been when they spoke to Alex. They’d only displayed minimal effort and had stayed a very short time. The officers had asked only superficial questions and had been escorted by a grim and impatient Silas the entire time.

  Most of the EMIT staff seemed uncomfortable speaking with Alex. They constantly glanced off to the side, as if they were worried they were overstepping their bounds or someone was listening. Only one of them spoke up with a personal opinion. Leeann’s father, Jin Choi, had been working at EMIT a very long time and had never been afraid to speak his mind.

  “I’ll tell you this, Alex,” Mr. Choi told him passionately. “Your father is the heart of this operation. Without him, EMIT will not last long. We may all be at the top of our field, but your father, he is in a whole different class.”

  Mr. Choi was just reaffirming what Alex already knew, and he wondered if it had anything to do with his dad’s disappearance. Had someone kidnapped him to use him for what he knew? Was someone—Silas, maybe—making a bid to take over the company?

  Alex spoke to others, but no one else could—or would?—provide any other useful information. They all said the same thing: Dad had arrived at work that day hours ahead of everyone else, which was typical. And, he’d already left before the first employees arrived. In the days leading up to his disappearance, no one had noticed him acting strangely. He’d been his usual jovial, kind-hearted self.

  No one knew anything.

  Alex left EMIT that day frustrated and exhausted.

  “Did you learn anything of use?” Silas asked on the ride home.

  “No,” Alex replied sullenly.

  And with that, they spent the rest of the ride in silence.

  Late Saturday morning, Leeann called and asked if she could come to see him. He was already at the lab, making no headway. After a few short words with Silas, he arranged for her to pick him up.

  Once he was in her car, Leeann didn’t say much. She just concentrated on the road, waiting for Alex to break the silence.

  “It still irks me that your parents bought you a car,” he groused, trying to open up with something light. The fact that she got a car before him was a running joke between them, and usually Leeann enjoyed rubbing it in. “My dad, just too cheap to pony up the cash…”

  Alex trailed off, realizing he’d probably started in the most awkward way possible.

  Leeann pursed her lips, her eyes on the road. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he replied automatically, surprised that he sounded almost angry when he said it. He idly bumped a knuckle against the passenger door.

  “My dad says you’ve been living with Silas,” Leeann said, making a face. “How’s that?”

  Alex started to say it’s fine, but it wasn’t. He didn’t like talking about his problems with anyone, not usually, but Leeann wasn’t just anyone. She was the only person he trusted besides his dad. He needed someone to talk to. “It’s awful,” he admitted. “Everything you’d expect his house to be like, multiply that by a hundred. It’s like The Adams Family on steroids.”

  “Does he…?” Leeann glanced over, and apparently decided to ask him a different question. “Do you guys hang out together at night? Watch TV, eat dinner, anything like that?”

  “No, none of that. He’s just plain weird,” Alex answered. “He’s almost never home. I assume he’s always at the lab, but who knows. And I’ve never even seen him eat. Ever. In fact, the kitchen is empty except for a few things he put in the refrigerator for me. The guy must be the king of fast food or something.”

  “Silas eating a double cheeseburger…” Leeann mused, and they both started laughing at the image. It just didn’t fit. Silas didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would enjoy any sort of food because he didn’t seem like he enjoyed anything.

  When they got quiet again, Leeann glanced over; a quick, furtive glance. “So,” she said hesitantly, “Pat’s been telling everyone you stopped coming to school because you’re afraid of him.”

  “Pat? Pat who?”

  Leeann looked at him incredulously. “Pat?” she prompted. “PJ! The guy who tried to take your head off with a volleyball?”

  Pat, that’s right. Alex closed his eyes and rubbed them. He kept forgetting no one had called him PJ anymore. He chuckled tiredly.

  “This is funny?” Leeann whipped into a Taco Bell and parked in the first spot available. She turned to face him, eyes flashing angrily. “Alex, I don’t know why you let him do that to you. You’re better than him. You should have done something. You should have at least stood up to him.”

  “You were the one telling me not to fight him!” he objected. She sounded so upset, it took him by surprise. Talking about PJ was just about the last thing he’d expected her to bring up.

  “Well, I didn’t want you to fight…” Leeann retorted angrily. “But I didn’t want him to get away with it, either!”

  “Leeann,” he began, “it’s not like that. PJ and I, we have history—”

  “Pat!” she yelled. “His name is Pat! Alex, why do you stay so far removed from everyone? You never used to be like that. I remember when you were part of all kinds of clubs at school. Everybody liked you so much.”

  Alex blanched. “That was like
ten years ago,” he protested. “Before…”

  “Before your mom left.” Leeann said knowingly. They had had this conversation many times before.

  “Leeann,” he told her, his frustration rising, “that’s not it. Me not being at school has nothing to do with PJ—sorry, Pat—and you know it.” He was starting to get mad and he didn’t want to be, not at Leeann, but he didn’t like talking about his mom.

  Leeann saw the change come over him and put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.” She lowered her eyes, staring down at the console between them. “I do know that. I’m just really worried about you. I…” She sighed in frustration. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find my dad,” Alex answered firmly. “I’m going to find him and bring him home, no matter what it takes.”