royal blood, which makes us both part of a royal bloodline. She was a great woman who sacrificed for us all.”
“Oma was some sort of Nazi queen or something?”
“The royal blood chooses you, Maggie, not the other way around. It takes a while to embrace it. I know this because I fought against it for years. But you must understand that people will try to harm you because of your heritage. So you must be prepared to protect yourself.”
“Sounds like more Nazi lies. Who is writing your material … Goebbles?”
Kingston looked impressed at her knowledge of Hitler’s Propaganda Minister. “The fact is my father was killed by these Zionists, as was your father …”
“My father would never be part of this!”
“You’re a smart girl, Maggie, do the math.”
She began running for the door. “I’m calling the police!”
“The police are already here,” Kingston announced, and shouted for Eddie. He entered on command. “What’s the problem now, Maggot?”
“What are you, some kind of SS Officer?”
“Is that anyway to treat your uncle?”
“Fuck you! Is that better?”
“Watch your mouth. These people are just trying to protect you.”
She lost it. She ran to Jamie and took the controller out of his hand and threw it at Eddie. Then the Xbox. Jamie started screaming, but she didn’t care. She picked up the glass dish of M&M’s and threw it at his forehead. It was a direct hit. Eddie was knocked to the ground and candy spilled everywhere. Maggie ran to him and started kicking him with the tip of her crocs. She picked up the M&M’s scattered at the floor and hit him in the face like she were spraying him with bee-bees. Then something made her pause.
Eddie would never let her get away with this. He was pissed, and his forehead was bleeding, but he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t touch her. She was royal blood—whatever that meant—and he was just a working stiff for the Nazis.
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place, causing her to stop the candy Blitzkrieg. She’d figured it out, but he hadn’t. They never told him, or more likely they lied to him. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” he asked, half angry, half dazed.
“Rose Shepherd—the one we went to visit today—she’s one of them. They killed your mother!”
Eddie glared at her, stunned. His eyes trailed to Kingston, who looked away like a coward. Eddie’s look changed from surprise to sadness, and then to anger. But there was nothing he could do.
Silence filled the room, until a distraught Jamie shouted, “Maggie, you always ruin all the fun!”
Chapter 60
Kingston’s mansion in Kings Point was only five minutes away. Yet Veronica knew the likelihood of the future president keeping kidnapped children in his home the day of the election was minuscule. And the possibility of him revealing their location to her was zero. But it still seemed like their next illogical step.
Any attempt to get there by car would be near impossible. The small town was packed with heavy security, clashing supporters and protestors, and practically every news outlet in the world. So Veronica began to run toward the mansion.
Zach caught up to her and made a convincing argument that her mad dash might garner some unwanted attention from the security force. She thought of those guys outside of Sterling’s with the machine-guns, and knew he was right.
So they walked. Veronica’s fashion slavery was backfiring, as the boots were killing her feet. But she figured they might come in handy when she put her foot into Kingston’s ribs. And Mr. Head of Security, Eddie Peterson, better be wearing a cup when she got a hold of him.
As they walked, Veronica mentally untangled the branches of Ellen’s family tree; from the dark roots to the blooming of the new buds, Maggie and Jamie.
“So if Joseph Kingston was the Chosen One, then Ellen was his mother and his father was … ” she blanked. All the Nazis were melding together in her mind.
“Heinrich Müller—head of the Gestapo—captured by the CIA after the war, and later became Gus Becker,” Zach informed.
“Why couldn’t she just have told us this in the first place, instead of sending us on this crazy chase?”
“Because nobody would believe her. If she made such a claim against Kingston, it would’ve been laughed off as the ramblings of a crazy old lady. She was counting on a respected journalist getting the proof she needed, to give her claims credibility. Only then could it be stopped.”