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"Katie, I said, what do you think about that?" Branden was still grinning at me.
"I'm sorry, Branden," I said. "I didn't really hear what you were saying. My mind's been somewhere else."
"I'll say. You missed a great story, even if I do say so myself. I was explaining why there are so many Russian immigrants in this town."
"What's that about Russian immigrants?" I asked.
Branden laughed. "You really have been checked out. I was telling you that this area was a hotbed for the Russian mob a little over ten years ago-that's how families like yours and the Neverovs and others came to be here."
"Branden, that's terrible," Charisse said. "Katie's grandmother is no mobster. And I'm sure Irina's family isn't full of criminals, either."
Branden shrugged. "You thought it was funny a minute ago."
"No, you thought it was funny a minute ago," Simon said. "We weren't quite so amused."
"Whatever," Branden replied. "It's a funny story no matter what you say."
Branden and Simon continued to argue, but I was struck by what Branden had said. It had never occurred to me to wonder how GM had come to settle here in Elspeth's Grove, and now that I knew Irina's family was from Krov like we were, it seemed to me an odd coincidence that both of us should have found our way to the same small town.
"What do you mean the Russian mob was here?" I asked abruptly.
Both Simon and Branden turned to look at me.
"He doesn't mean anything," Simon said.
"I mean moonshine," Branden replied grinning. "Illegal hooch."
"Like during prohibition?" I asked. "What would be the point of that? It's not like alcohol is illegal."
"No," Branden said. "But you do have to buy it at a state store, and a lot of people don't like to go to the trouble of doing that-especially not college kids."
An image of my grandmother selling bottles of homebrewed alcohol out of the trunk of her car flashed through my mind, and I had to work really hard to suppress a sudden laugh. I couldn't think of anything less likely.
I shook my head. "Even if people were selling alcohol illegally around here, how would that attract the Russian mob? I would imagine it's too small a business. It wouldn't attract criminals on an international level."
Branden looked smug. "You see, I'm being clever."
"You? Clever?" Simon snorted.
"Yes, me," Branden replied. "I'm giving the story to you in pieces, just like the cops got it. The illegal hooch operation was actually a front."
Simon snorted again. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're supposed to use a legal business as a front-the point is to not attract the attention of the police. If your business is illegal to begin with the police are going to come looking for you. That's exactly what you don't want."
"That depends on what it is you're trying to do. The mob wanted to attract the attention of the police."
"That doesn't make any sense," Simon said.
"Sure it does." Branden said complacently, as if he'd been dying to make his point. "You set up something illegal but minor, let the police find it and shut it down, and then you settle down to be good, law-abiding citizens, and people stop wondering why there are so many immigrants from the same part of Russia here. And it doesn't seem so strange when they start bringing more and more relatives over-because they've been a.s.similated, you know. And what's more natural than that families should come over so they could all be together?"
"So what are you saying?" Simon asked.
"I'm saying that they wanted to lull the cops into a false sense of security-the cops think they've taught them a lesson, but the cops were really just fooled by a blind. Now the mobsters are free to pursue their real plan."
"Which is?" Simon asked.
"Mining."
"Mining?" Simon repeated scornfully. "I think someone would notice that."
"You don't know what they're mining for," Branden said.
"What are they mining for?" Simon asked. "And where are they keeping all their equipment? It's pretty hard to hide one of those shaft jumbo drills."
"No one knows what they're mining for-it's something they want to keep secret. And apparently they don't need any equipment-at least not other than the old fashioned kind. They're digging."
"Digging," Simon said.
"Yes."
"Then why did you say mining?"
"Because they're digging for something that's buried very deep," Branden said.
"Like buried treasure?" Simon asked.
"Exactly."
"But no one knows what it is?" Simon asked.
"That's right."
"Where did you hear all this genius stuff?"
"I already told you way back at the beginning."
"Well, remind me."
"I heard it in Social Studies cla.s.s."
"And this was presented as fact-that members of the Russian mob moved here to search for buried treasure?"
"Well, it wasn't presented as fact exactly-more as an example of the types of rumors that spring up around groups of immigrants."
"So, it was presented as something that wasn't true?"
"Yeah," Branden said. "You know you're taking this way too seriously. This was supposed to be funny."
"It's offensive," Simon said.
"Katie doesn't seem to be upset," Branden replied. "So I think you should relax."
"Maybe Katie isn't offended, but I am," Simon said.
"On Katie's behalf?"
"On Katie's behalf."
Simon and Branden continued to quarrel.
I knew the argument wasn't serious, and I saw Charisse looking on in tolerant amus.e.m.e.nt, so I just let them keep talking. Simon and Branden typically didn't listen to me when I tried to interrupt one of their arguments anyway.
I didn't really believe Branden's tale about the Russian bootleggers, but once again I was struck by the odd coincidence that both my grandmother and the Neverovs had found their way from Krov, Russia to the small town of Elspeth's Grove. And according to Branden's rumor there were others. I didn't know of any other Russian families in the area, but that didn't mean they weren't around. I wondered if those families had come from Krov, too-and if so, how did they all find our town?
I thought suddenly of the letters GM had been receiving, and a half-formed suspicion rose in my mind-could GM be up to something that involved the Russian families in Elspeth's Grove? She was certainly up to something that she didn't want me to know about.
I pushed the thought away quickly-the very idea that GM would be involved in something illegal was ridiculous.
I agreed with Simon that an illegal mining operation was as unlikely as a moonshine operation-he was right that there was no place to hide the equipment. But the idea that there could be something of value underground gave me pause.
I thought back to the strange frozen man I had seen emerging from the cave in the Old Grove after I had wandered away from Bryony's party. I thought back to October too, to my own journey through that same cave in the dark when I had followed the twisting white smoke and found Gleb Mstislav. Gleb and his son Timofei had been taking shelter there during the day when Gleb was most vulnerable, but I wondered now if there had been any other reason for their presence there. Could they have been looking for something?
I remembered with a sudden jolt how William had found me in the cave, spying on Gleb and Timofei, and had pulled me out to safety. I remembered his face as he had stood in the forest, blocking my path to the cave, determined not to let me go back down into it.
I could see him so clearly that it was almost as if he were standing before me. I felt a sharp pang of loss once again, and the feelings I had been holding at bay all day welled up with me, threatening to overwhelm me. Why had he left me? Why had he gone back to Russia without saying a word? The pain was so fierce that I felt tears stinging my eyes. Though I tried to block it out, I wanted to see William again more than I wanted anything, and there was no way I could do that. I could never, ever see him again.
Or could I? It suddenly occurred to me that GM had asked me to go to Russia over Christmas-and I had refused back when William was still with me. But maybe I could go. The idea seized me strongly. If I could see William one last time, hear his voice one last time-even if he turned away from me-it would be worth it.
"Katie, are you okay?"
Charisse was staring at me now, as were Branden and Simon who had apparently stopped arguing.
"Are you okay?" Charisse asked again.
"Yes, I'm fine," I said. My cheeks felt warm, and I could feel that my heart was racing. I made an effort to be calmer. "Why would you think I wasn't okay?"
"It's just that you suddenly got this crazy look on your face," Charisse said. "You kind of looked like you might go running out of the room. It wasn't a normal look."
"I'm fine. Really." I hadn't realized how unguarded I had allowed myself to be. "I-"
I tried to come up with an explanation, but nothing came to me. "I'm-just fine."
Simon and Charisse exchanged worried looks, and I felt a flash of irritation-no doubt they thought my strange mood had something to do with William. They were right, but it didn't make the situation any less irritating.
Branden shot a glance at Simon and Charisse. "Lighten up, you two. If Katie says she's fine, she's fine." He turned to me. "I make weird faces all the time too. You go ahead and make the faces you need to make. Don't worry about it."
Branden's support was unexpected, and he made a face that was so ridiculous that I couldn't help but laugh.
"Katie," Simon said ominously, "you'd better be really careful if you're doing anything that Branden thinks is normal."
After lunch, I waited anxiously for the day to end. I even considered skipping the rest of my cla.s.ses and just heading home-something I would never do under ordinary circ.u.mstances. But I knew GM would likely be at home working and would be furious that I had skipped both school and her escort. And that would hardly help me when I made my case for going to Russia.
GM had been eager and excited about the trip before, but what if she no longer wanted to go? What if she demanded an explanation for my changing my mind? I certainly couldn't tell her that I was going to look for William. If she wanted a reason, I'd have to hope that a good one came to me.
At long last, the day ended, and I called GM. She picked me up, and we rode home in silence. I figured I would wait until we got home to spring my request. For her part, GM seemed to have something on her mind.
We reached home, and both of us went into the kitchen-I was typically in the habit of having a snack when I came home.
Today, however, food could wait.
"GM, I need to talk to you," I said breathlessly.
"And I need to talk to you." GM's tone was formal, and her expression had gone very stern-I knew that meant trouble.
"Is there any chance I can talk to you first?" I asked.
"No," GM replied. "Have a seat, please."
I sank into a nearby chair, and I felt my chances of going to Russia slipping away. If she was already angry, then- I didn't allow myself to complete the thought. I waited uncomfortably to hear what GM had to say.
"It's that boy, isn't it?" she asked, her voice clear and cold.
I felt a flash of panic run through me. "How did you-"
I stopped before I could say anything incriminating.
"How did I know? Of course I knew. I see you moping around here. I see you start at every sound. And you've been acting strange at night-especially the night you sat up with the window open-and it's been getting worse lately. That boy has done something, hasn't he?"
I relaxed a little-she didn't know that William had abandoned me and gone to Russia. But I was still on dangerous ground.
"William's been a bit distant lately," I said slowly.
"What's happened?" GM asked sharply. "Has he broken your heart? I don't want you to be unhappy."
Pain lanced through me. I wished she hadn't a.s.sessed my feelings quite so accurately.
"You said you would give him a chance," I said.
"A chance is not a pa.s.s for everything."
I made an effort to smile. "I'm fine, really." It seemed to me that I had been saying that a lot lately. "I'll be all right-I promise."
GM stared at me for a long moment, and then she sighed heavily. "I suppose you have to go through things like this. We all do. So I will step back for now. But I did warn that boy. If he does the wrong thing, I will have my revenge on him."
GM's tone was so menacing that I couldn't help smiling for real.
"You laugh, but I am serious," she said.
"I know," I replied. I didn't doubt GM's mettle for a moment.