The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(36)

“And you didn’t try to find out where it crashed?” The agent clenched his hands below his chin.

“We rode down the street a long way, but it had gone out toward the canyon. We didn’t know how far it traveled, so it seemed like searching for a needle in a haystack. We were upset, but it didn’t look like we had any choice but to give up and hope someone would find it and report it.”

Agent Nixon smiled. “But you weren't worried enough to tell your parents that you had lost your airplane? When I polygraphed your father and Mr. Smythe this morning, neither one of them seemed to know a thing.”

Heather gulped. This was a nightmare. Their fathers had been pulled out of work at the lab and administered a polygraph test because of this? She knew they were periodically required to undergo lifestyle polygraph tests because of the classified nature of their work. But being tested because of something their children had done was unbelievable.

“I don’t know. We were upset and embarrassed that we had modified the plane and had it crash on the first outing. They gave us the money for the whole project and it was gone.” She shrugged. “I guess we just wanted to wait a couple of days to see if someone found it before we had to confess.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Young lady, are you aware of the penalties for lying to a federal officer in the conduct of an official investigation?”

“No, sir.”

Principal Zumwalt stepped forward. “I have had enough of this fishing expedition, Agent Nixon. I have stood by as you questioned each of these students and have listened as all of them have told you essentially the same story. Now you have moved from legitimate questions to what I regard as intimidation and harassment. I will remind you that these children are juniors in high school, that I am their principal, and that at no time did I hear you read them their Miranda rights. So unless you are now going to do so and place my student under arrest, this interview is finished.”

The smile returned to Agent Nixon’s lips, but not to his eyes.

“Very well, Principal Zumwalt. I have the information I came for. Ms. McFarland, you are free to go.”

Heather struggled to her feet and walked from the room. Her hands shook as she opened the door and, glancing back, Heather thought she detected a smug look of satisfaction on the agent’s face.

A sudden heat flushed her face. Heather felt disoriented, at a loss to figure out where she should be going. The big round hall clock indicated that it was 2:15. That meant study hall, but before she went anywhere near anyone she knew, Heather felt the need to wash her face and spend a few moments trying to recover.

The rest of the day was a haze that failed to dissolve even when she, Mark, and Jennifer stepped off the school bus and made the short walk home. The shock of what had happened was so deep that they barely spoke to each other. What was there to say?

As she stepped off the sidewalk and into her driveway, Heather’s feet slipped on an icy spot, setting her down hard on her rear end, scattering her books across the asphalt. Mark and Jennifer rushed over as she gathered herself, blinking back hot tears.

“It’s okay, I’m all right,” Heather said, her voice sounding hoarse to her ears.

As Mark retrieved her scattered books and papers, Jennifer hugged her friend tightly, tears leaking from her own eyes.

Mark gently handed her books back to her. “It’s going to be okay. We have each other, and we’ll get through this.”

Heather sniffed and nodded, then turned and walked to her front door.

Dinner that evening was uncomfortable; it had been a while since Heather had felt so awkward with her parents. Once again, she was forced to tell the same tale she had told Agent Nixon, along with a description of what had happened at school. Her father did not reprimand her for failing to tell him about what had happened in the park, or for allowing him to be blindsided by the resulting investigation, but she could feel his disapproval in the tone of his voice and the weight of his gaze.

Heather considered herself to be a generally upbeat person, but by the time she went to bed she had been locked in depression for more than twenty-four hours. In fact, her black mood was sinking deeper. Not only had they violated the law, she had been forced to lie to a federal agent. Worse yet, she had lied to her own mother and father.

Instead of doing her homework and taking a bath, Heather just slid into her pajamas and crawled into bed. But sleep was a long time in coming.

For the next two days the three friends heard nothing about the progress of the investigation. School came. School went. Stress sat so heavy on their shoulders that Heather and the Smythe twins acquired a visible slump.

Shortly after Heather’s dad returned from work on Thursday afternoon, they received a call summoning the entire McFarland family next door to the Smythe house. As Heather stepped outside, she immediately saw the reason her dad had responded so quickly to the call.

Standing in the Smythe driveway, along with all of the Smythes, was Dr. Helmut Krause, director of the Los Alamos National Laboratory. Beside him stood Dr. Donald Stephenson.

As they moved up beside the Smythes, Dr Krause nodded a welcome.

“As you know, I’m not a fan of seeing my laboratory in turmoil. I’m sure this investigation has been stressful for your families, but anything impacting the Rho Division is so important that the questioning and corresponding pressure is trebled. That’s why I came here personally to let you know the results.”