Sleepy Hollow, to search for the Headless Horseman—and hoped she’d continue to live life with that zest. But she also had never been so mad at her. The contradictory life of the mother of a twelve-year-old, she guessed.
Principal Sweetney didn’t look impressed. She turned to TJ, “Any last words?”
TJ just looked at the floor. He was taking the fifth. There was no way he was dragging down his friend with him.
Veronica felt compelled to throw her little girl a life raft. “I agree with Mr. Sterling, from the standpoint that Ellen’s experience in the concentration camp likely led to dark fantasies. And combined with the onset of dementia, they turned to wild tales. But Maggie and TJ did nothing wrong. They followed directions, and I think it’s clear that they didn’t make up these stories to get a reaction.”
“I agree,” her mother said, causing Veronica to do a double take. Agreement was not usually a dynamic of their relationship. “Because of these mitigating circumstances, I will allow Maggie to redo her Heritage Paper without penalty, preferably focusing on a different relative, and present it to the class at a later date. I will take it upon myself to send out emails to the parents, explaining the situation with Ellen’s health, and that we don’t support Nazi or anti-Semitic propaganda, nor will we subject their children to it in the classroom ever again.”
Everybody accepted their light sentences from the judge … except Maggie. “That’s bullshit! It was the best presentation in the class.”
“My decision is final. And watch your language, young lady.”
A tear started to slip down Maggie’s cheek and she angrily wiped it off. “I won’t redo it.”
“Then you’ll receive an F in Social Studies and repeat the sixth grade next year.”
“I’ll sue you!”
Principal Sweetney didn’t seem to take the threat of litigation too seriously, not even acknowledging her. “Anybody have anything else to add?”
Her eyes went to Youkelstein, and she picked right. “I think you’re making a grave mistake by underestimating this threat.”
He turned to Veronica and she almost jumped back upon witnessing the fire in his eyes. “This plan has been secretly plotted for over half a century by the highest ranking members of evil, and anyone with knowledge of the details could be in grave danger. Ellen said in the video that their twisted plot is in its final stages, and that is why she chose now to go public. If those behind this plot believe Ellen told details to Maggie and TJ, they could be in danger. As could anyone they might have told, like friends, siblings, or even yourself, Ms. Peterson. This group will not allow anyone to stand in their way.”
Principal Sweetney replied, “I suggest you take up an investigation of these Nazi ghosts on your own time, Mr. Youkelstein … and your own dime. It has nothing to do with this school.”
The ringing of her phone interrupted the confrontation. After listening for a moment, she responded sharply, “He left here twenty minutes ago—no he’s not with me.”
When she hung up, the color drained from her face and Principal Sweetney turned back into a worried grandmother. “It’s Jamie—he never showed up for Career Day.”
Chapter 10
Ben Youkelstein remained calm in the sea of panic. If there was anything he felt comfortable doing in this world, it was tracking down a predator.
The general consensus of the others was that one of two things occurred. The best case was that Jamie, stung by his punishment, ran away to make a statement.
The other scenario, and the more troubling one, was that Jamie was abducted by the Apostles. Every brittle bone in Ben’s body told him that Ellen was telling the truth, meaning the children were in great danger. But he doubted that Jamie was “taken.” This group thrived for decades by fitting into the background, and they weren’t going to start seeking the spotlight as they closed in on their goals. Police involvement and Amber Alerts didn’t fit their profile.
After Principal Sweetney called the authorities and began the process of locking down the school exits, Ben wandered off on his own to find the boy. He figured if he could find Mengele in Bertioga, then this should be a piece of cake. With Aligor’s stinging words still lodged in his craw, he moved as swiftly as his ancient legs would allow across the school grounds, leaning on his trusty umbrella.
He first crossed paths with Aligor Sterling at the Terezin concentration camp in Czechoslovakia. It was December of 1944