Misinformed

I woke up early. No way I could sleep late knowing Dad was going after Elias. I dressed in a blue skirt and a black shirt. I didn't feel like wearing anything exciting on the day my dad might get hurt.

We ate leftover pizza for breakfast. I felt agitated, but my father seemed calmer than usual. I guess that's how stress affected him. It freaked me out a little bit, the way his breathing was even and his voice never varied in tone. I kind of wished he would show that he was nervous somehow; his lack of visible fear made my nerves go even further toward the edge than they already were.

The sun was starting to come up as we entered the library. Mr. H was dressed in his usual three-piece suit and nodded as we came in, but he showed his anxiety on his face the way Dad didn't. "Good morning," he said, taking a sip of his green tea.

"Morning," said Dad.

"I'll be helping you any way I can," Harold continued.

"I know," said my dad. "Just make sure you take care of Katherine."

"Of course," said the shorter man with a tight-lipped smile.

Harold went back to his desk, but Dad put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry," he said. "Everything's going to be ok." I watched as he turned and left the library, wishing with everything in me that I could make him come back. The one person in the world who belonged to me—or, at least, had started to belong to me—was going away, where there were guns and bad people and things I didn't understand. I just wanted him to stay.

After a while, I wondered back to Harold's desk and watched him boot up his computer and check various buttons and wires. "I really do like you," he said after a long while, his voice strange because he was bent nearly double over a black box. "You're quiet at the right times. It's a rare gift."

"Thanks," I said, not quite sure what he meant or how to answer.

"I probably shouldn't let you watch with me, but I can tell you're dying of nervousness as much as I am. I won't torture you." He limped over to a door in the back wall and opened it, revealing a small closet from which he pulled a folding chair. He put it next to his, and I sat down.

"Mr. H?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't the police put Elias in jail?"

"That's a complicated thing," he answered. "He was in jail before, but he got out because a lot of people who should know better owe him money and favors."

"Oh," I said.

"Believe me," Harold continued, "it's as bewilderingly despicable to me as it is to you."

I smiled at him. Something in his indignant tone made me feel better than I had all day. No way anyone could get away with something wrong when Harold was on the right side.

Just then, Harold's phone rang. "Hello, Detective," he said coolly. "I hope you're on the way to meet with our mutual friend." I couldn't hear the answer, but I saw Harold's expression change to dark annoyance. "Are you sure? Wait for Mr. Reese and do a sweep of the house. Let me know if you find anything." He hung up and sat back in his chair. "Looks like we've been made fools of, Katherine. That was Detective Carter. There's no sign of Elias or anyone in his operation at the address the informant gave your father. They're onto him." He took a few deep breaths and seemed to regain his equilibrium.

"Mr. Reese?" Harold's next call was a logical one. "False alarm. Bad information. I've told Carter to help you look for any clues at the house. I'm going to move you and Katherine into an apartment near Central Park tonight. It's too dangerous to stay in one place any longer. Stop at the safe house and pack your things before you come back here. Looks like we'll be rendezvousing a lot sooner than anticipated."

He hung up again before looking over at me. "We can relax for now. Your father will have to keep looking."

"Ok," I said.

"That's worth at least a small smile," he said, raising his eyebrow at my glum expression. "Plus, you'll be out of school for a while longer. Doesn't that usually make children happy?"

"I like school," I said.

"Right," said Harold. "In some ways, you really aren't that much like your dad." He laughed drily, and my mouth curved into a smile, even though I didn't mean to.