Chapter 7
Pacing back and forth in my more-than-a-wardrobe, I waited for someone to answer my call. It had taken me a while to get home; dodging police cars and stuff, so by the time I was home it was nearly four o’clock. On the mirror in the hall, my mother had stuck a pick post-it note explaining that I would be home alone all weekend as my dad had a business trip and she was going on a spa retreat with Marjory Watford, a short, mousy haired woman from my mother’s book club. Good, I thought, it was easier to work with the house to myself. Still, I had locked my bedroom door before going to call the TAG lab. Finally, the voice of an unusually chipper teenager said “Hello, this is Agent L048. Please state your agent identity.” I didn’t need to check anything and automatically reeled, “Agent A004, TAG code: PHOENIX.” I heard typing at the end of the phone before her next reply. “Okay, Agent A004, what is the subject matter of this call?” she said, formally. “I need DNA analysis of a blood sample.” I said as I pulled the evidence bag out of my back pocket. More typing, then “A courier will be sent to your designated drop off location with an estimated time of arrival of seven minutes.” She cut of before I could say anything more. “Okay,” I murmured to myself. I took a small package tube from a cupboard beside my computer and carefully fed the evidence bag into it before sealing it with tape and sticking a label on it. In the corner of the room was a renovated Victorian dumb waiter. The agency had changed it so that it ended outside the house, hidden by Ivy that climbed the side of the house. This was the designated drop off point and where I sent the tube now. Once that was done I examined my hit list. I didn’t really know what to do with myself. I was debating calling one of my friends when Chiara’s photo flashed up on my phone screen and it began to ring. “Neil Stevenson is having a pool party!” She squealed down the phone as soon as I’d answered. “Who?” I asked; that name sounded familiar to me, but I couldn’t think why. “What does it matter who he is, it’s a party,” She replied emphatically. I sighed, “Okay, but my parents aren’t here so you’ll have to get Lucas to drive us.” She groaned. “That’s not gonna happen. My dear brother loves to ruin my life.” I laughed, “Just put him on the phone Chi, He likes me.” There was shouting and a rustling and then Lucas’s eager voice. “Hey Darcey, what do you want?” He asked. I smiled. “Luke, could you do me a big favour and take me to this party at the Stevenson house?” I said sweetly. His answer, of course was, yes.
Twenty minutes later I left the house. I’d changed into a red bikini, but I was wearing a denim skirt and a floaty white shirt over the top. My hair cascaded down my back in golden spirals and on my feet I wore my brand new pair of red patent Jimmy Choos. Lucas and Chiara were waiting out of the front of my house in his Aston Martin. Lucas’s jaw dropped when he saw me, which was all the approval I needed. Lucas was Chiara’s older brother. He had dark hair and round glasses and he was kind of cute in a geeky sort of way. He was also eighteen and therefore old enough to drive. I climbed into the car next to Chiara and we drove across town to the Stevenson house.
Neil Stevenson lived in a mansion. It was to like it a smaller version of The White House, complete with columns and marble steps. There were people standing outside when we got there and Chiara quickly dismissed Lucas before he could see that they were drunk. We bypassed the girls throwing up the liquor they’d probably only just downed and went straight through the open door. The pool was at the back of the house in an extension. Moonlight streamed down on the water through the glass ceiling. There were people I knew vaguely messing around in the pool and others doing shots at the bar in the corner. We stood there for a moment and then a boy who I think was called Ben, rushed at Chiara, lifted her up and jumped into the pool with her. Her sequel was ear splitting. A few people turned and laughed as she splashed about screaming hysterically. I sighed. I could stop thinking about the blood and the smashed glass. How had I not noticed it last night? A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of how close this other assassin was to me. Did they know that I was there? They must have, I shot the grass after all. My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed Tyler by the bar he took a swift look around the room and drank the rest of his beer. He slipped out of the room and I quickly got up to follow. I had a feeling that Tyler was up to something and as he was on my hit list I wanted to make sure I knew everything about him, that I knew all the facts. He climbed the grand staircase that led upstairs from the foyer and I followed him, at a distance of course. He went down the hall and knocked on a door. When it opened I quickly shrank back behind a bookcase. The man that answered was in his late forties with dark, grey streaked hair and piercing blue eyes. I wasn’t shocked when this man greeted Tyler cheerfully. I knew now why the name Neil Stevenson had seemed familiar. Neil was the son of another head hacker. The man was Tony Stevenson and he was on my list.
Tyler was in there for a long time and when he came out he looked stressed and nervous, but at the same time hyped up. I knew that look; it was the same look I got after a kill. As Tyler walked away, I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I went to the door and knocked. There was no answer but it swung open at my touch anyway. I was in a study, similar to Thomas Whittier’s and to say I was surprised at what, I found was an understatement. The room was empty. Confused, I backed away back into the corridor. It was all too much. Usually I could handle this, but sleep deprivation was obviously affecting my head. I went further down the hall and turned a corner. I pushed open a door and found myself in a bedroom. I sat at the end of the queen sized bed and took a few deep breaths. I felt a bit calmer now. My phone vibrated and I pulled it out to read the text.
Soz D, Going out with Ben. C U @ School. Chi xx
I told her it was okay and began to text Lucas to pick me up. That’s when the screaming began. It rang through the house, impossible not to hear. I jumped off the bed, dropping my phone and rushed to the balcony. On the marble steps at the back of the house lay the broken body of Tony Stevenson. People were screaming and about ten of them were phoning 999.At the edge of the massive garden I thought I saw a guy, illuminated by the faint light of the moon, but I blinked and he was gone. I knew who it was though. It was Tyler Pritchard.
