Discovered

Chapter 20: Eavesdropping Habits

A few days after Dad delivered the photos to the police, they went on a three week search to find Mrs. Jade until an anonymous tip reported an unidentified woman with  brown coat, gloves, and tight black pants is purchasing plane tickets to Paris.

Luckily, the authorities caught her before she even set foot on the airport. Wallace and Justin had their charges dropped and resumed back to their normal lives. Their father, however, is spending hours of community service for leaving a gun on the sidewalk.

Langston Hughes High School is currently searching for a new principal. And much to my surprise, not only it was a school of learning, but a school of arts. Maybe that was the reason why the school is named after a great poet.

Mom recovered from Grandpa's death and went back to her kind ways. Shockingly, she was reinstated as a CIA operative and resumed protecting America from its notorious threats.

After taking some pictures of Harlem's cities, people, and tourist's attractions, I pasted the photos on my canvas and showed it to Mrs. Triton, who happily gave me an A plus.

Eventually, I delivered every single page of work to my teachers and passed all of my tests. As a reward for my progress, Mom and Dad bought me a camera phone charm that goes along with my Team Sparia phone case and my paint splattered phone wallpaper.

While unpacking my folded clothes and items, I saw an olive skinned man with a black shirt, jeans, facial features, and sneakers, standing on our doorway. He looked like he is in his early twenties.

Just when I was about go downstairs and answer the door, Mom beat me to it. She calmly opened it and gave him an eerie look. Quietly, I hurried downstairs and hid behind the food cupboard.

"Hello Cole," the man answered sheepishly. "How are things?" Although Mom smiled at him, she reached her right hand for her revolver that was hiding in her back pocket. "I am doing fine," she replied coldly. "What are you doing here?"

The man stared at her in disbelief. "I am just here to say hello." he reassured. Suddenly, all the cheerfulness escaped from her face. "Really? Mom snorted. "The last time you said hello, you tried to kill me and my husband. Twice."

He glared at her absentmindedly. "That was a long time ago-" he began. Immediately, Mom pulled out her gun then pointed it at the stranger. Seeing the weapon in his face, he took careful steps back.

"What are you doing here, Oliver?" she demanded. "Either tell me or I will put a bullet in your head." Oliver raised his hands carefully then sighed. "I am here to give you a warning," he explained, reaching into his pocket.

He pulled out a brown file full of papers. Mom eyed them suspiciously. "What are they?" she asked. I felt my hand clutching onto the wood. I was holding onto the door so tight, I worry that it might break in two.

With her right hand still holding the gun, Mom took the file out of Oliver's hand with her left. "We have some information that someone is bombing Washington," Oliver explained.

"Cities and buildings are being destroyed in an instant. No one knew who is doing this or why. The president thinks this is a terrorist attack." "Is ISIS involved?" Mom asked. Oliver shook his head. "We think this is much worse than ISIS and Osama Bin Laden."

Mom squinted her eyes as if she is trying to understand. "So, you are saying that there is a terrorist group who never showed their faces, bombs Washington DC, and it isn't ISIS?"

Mysterious bombers? I thought. For awhile now, ISIS is the United States' biggest enemy ever since 9/11. It couldn't have been the Boston Marathon Brothers, because one of them is still in prison and the other one was dead.

I don't think these city bombings was ISIS. Their whole criteria is to eliminate America. Taking out the president as well as many innocent lives could be a huge risk for their plan.

Who are these terrorists, anyway? "The president of the United States wants you and Ben to help them find who is doing this catastrophe." Oliver explained. "Including your daughter, Cleo Hamilton."

I almost fainted: the president of the United States knows me? It was always a dream of mine to go to the White House and meet the president and the First Lady. "Absolutely not," Mom answered sharply. "Ben and I will help the president, but I am not allowing my daughter on a case this dangerous!"

Oliver scratched his head. "Look," he began. "Cleo solved dangerous cases like this before-" "Is the president asking me to let my daughter take on this suicide mission or you?" Mom interrupted. "I am," Oliver admitted.

"The answer is no," Mom stated firmly. "That is all." Silently, Oliver nodded and stared at the gun's nozzle. "You're right," Oliver said finally. "I am sorry for wasting your time."

Mom lowered her gun and put it back into her pocket. "Tell Cleo I said hello." Oliver said glumly. Mom nodded then closed the door on him. Unable to suppress my curiosity, I walked over to Mom and asked her about the bombing.

"Don't worry about it, Cleo." Mom reassured. "It's just some prank." I raised my eyebrow at her words. Surely, it didn't sound like a prank. "Who's Oliver, anyway?" I asked. "Just some guy your father and I met in Quantico," Mom answered.

"You said that Oliver tried to kill you and Dad-" "Cleo," Mom interrupted sternly. "Take a shower and go to bed." I could hear the pain and annoyance in her voice. Quietly, I kissed her on the cheek then did what I was told.

After putting on my pajamas, I got under the covers and turned off the lights. I tried to close my eyes, but there was no way I could ever sleep because of what I have heard.

Slowly, I crawled out of bed and tiptoed downstairs. With Mom and Dad sleeping, I can get some closure on finding more about what Oliver had said. I took the remote off of the living room couch and switched the channel until I saw the red letters, CNN appear on the television.

"Breaking news," a young woman announced. "Around eight o'clock,  an  explosion occurred at the site of the Washington Bank-" "Cleo," a familiar voice said. "What are you doing?"

I turned around and saw Dad standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. He wore a grey tank top and navy blue long pants. Immediately, I switched off the television, hoping that he wouldn't see it.

"What are you watching?" he asked. "A bombing happened two hours ago," I answered truthfully. "I was watching because I heard Mom and Oliver talking." "About the explosions?" Dad guessed. I nodded.

"Oliver said that I could help the president with the case," I added. "He-" "You are not taking that case, Cleo." Dad stated firmly. "Your mother and I forbid it." "I know," I said, bobbing my head up and down. "I am not going to take the case."

"Good," he sighed, ruffling my hair. "Now, go back to bed." "Yes sir," I answered, walking up to my room and covering myself with a blanket. Even though solving crimes is my favorite thing to do, I didn't want to put myself at risk or even think about disobeying my parents.

As much as I wanted to learn more about the mysterious explosions, I want to get good grades, go to an art school in California, and start my life as a successful artist or a detective.

As I thought about my goals, I felt my hand knocking down something hard and rustic. I switched on the light and saw Grandpa's opened rusty box sitting on the floor. I must have taken it by mistake.

I grabbed the blank pages that was spilling on the floor, placed them on the drawer top, and turned off the lights. In the morning, I vowed to put them away where they belong.

But with more puzzles and more crimes to solve, it would be hard to ignore them.

The End