Truly Devious (Truly Devious #1) - Maureen Johnson Page 0,15
a voice. “Bring the money.”
“My wife and daughter—where are they?”
“Stop talking.”
Ellingham threw the bag. It landed on the narrow strip of grass around the dome. He got out as well as he could, considering that he could barely see.
The person kept the light squarely on Ellingham’s face, forcing him to look down and shield his eyes. He half crawled out of the boat onto the ground.
“Open the door,” the voice said.
Ellingham pulled his keys from his pocket and opened the door on the side of the dome. This dome was his little thinking place—his island of peace. The person shoved him hard, pushing him into the dome, where he landed on the floor.
“Put the money in the hatch,” the voice said. The person was speaking through a scarf, so it was muffled. There was an accent there, an accent he was trying to hide by pulling out the words in a strange way. His pupils were still constricted from the light, so Ellingham felt blindly along the floor, feeling for the hatch. He found it and opened it and pushed the sack into the hole. He heard it knocking some bottles off the shelves as it fell, and they shattered on the floor. He turned back to the stranger, but the light was shoved right back into his face, blinding him again.
Ellingham battled with himself for a moment. Should he lunge for this person? Just take him down now, beat his head into the side of the stone base of the observatory floor and demand with every blow where his family was? Fear and rage came in equal measure. But Ellingham had not gotten as far as he had in life by giving in to every impulse.
“It’s everything I had in the safe,” he said. “I was under two thousand short, but we gave you whatever we had. If I’d had more time . . . you can have whatever you want. Anything you want.”
Something came down on his head, and then all faded to black.
4
AFTER MAKING SUCH A HUGE IMPRESSION ON HAYES MAJOR, STEVIE paced her room for a few moments and reviewed her introductory strategy. More confidence. That’s what she needed. When she joined the FBI, she was going to need to walk up to people and shake their hands, look them in the eye, ask questions. Hayes had just caught her by surprise.
Her next chance was already here, kicking a laundry basket brimming with sketchbooks, pencils, oil crayons, and paints sitting by the door. A girl, the presumed owner of the foot, followed it in.
She wore a faded, shrunken yellow T-shirt from an auto repair shop and an old cheerleading skirt in deep blue with red internal pleats. Her legs were covered with little bruises and nicks—nothing serious-looking, more like the kind you would get by trying to climb trees or other objects. Her feet were just about covered in a pair of scruffy red cloth Mary Jane slippers held together with safety pins. Her hair was the real statement piece; it looked unwashed and matted, and it had been gathered in little bunches around her head and tied into bundles with what looked like baby socks. Down her left arm was a long tattoo, one massive line of elaborate script. Down her right arm were notes and sketches in different colors of pen.
“It is hot as balls in here,” the girl said in greeting. “Balls. Seriously. When the hell are they going to get some AC?”
Stevie stepped forward, considered offering a hand for a handshake, and opted instead for a casual lean against one of the chairs.
“I’m Stevie,” she said. “Stevie Bell.”
“What’s up,” the girl said. “I’m Ellie.”
There was no Ellie on the list of Ellingham students, but there was an Element Walker. And this person looked like an Element. Ellie, or Element, kicked a box that contained feather boas, a ukulele, a bowler hat, and a lot of plastic storage bags full of used makeup, and spilled glitter across the floor.
“Can I help?” Stevie said.
Ellie shrugged, but seemed happy enough with the offer.
Ellie’s things were a lot scrappier than Hayes’s or Stevie’s—two old cardboard boxes, an oversized army duffel bag, a gold backpack, and a lumpen black laundry sack. It didn’t take long to deposit these items in Minerva Three, which was down by the turreted bathroom.
“Pix,” Ellie yelled as she dragged the last of her things into her room, then walked back to the common area. “Why is it hot as balls in here?”