Chapter 3

The ride to the Drakons' was spent in tense silence. Now Michaela stood on the Drakons' front step.

Casting her eyes downward and nervously chewing on her lower lip, Michaela reached out and pushed the doorbell.

The Drakon home was about the same size as the Foundation mansion. Colonnades ran the length of the mansion's front. The formidable looking building was built out of deep red bricks. The front of the mansion faced the rising sun, which Michaela was sure allowed ample light to flow through the stained glass windows that framed the double doors leading into the house. K.A.I.S.Y. was parked on the circular drive, as close to the mansion as she could get him.

A butler opened the door with a stuffy, "Yes?"

"Um, hi. I'm here to see my Aunt Tilly. Um, she's expecting me?" Michaela interjected as much uncertainty as she could.

"Just a moment."

Glancing around, as though nervous, Michaela took note of several security cameras along the front of the house.

As they'd driven up, K.A.I.S.Y. had informed her that the mansion was surrounded by a "moat" of pressure sensors. Anything over a certain weight that stepped on the sensors would instantly alert security.

The door opened again, and "Aunt Tilly" stepped out, followed by Martin Drakon.

"Jessica!"

"Aunt Tilly!"

The two women enfolded each other in a hug.

Pulling apart, Tilly turned toward Martin. "Martin, this is my niece, Jessica. Remember, I've told you about her before? Jessica, this is your Uncle Martin."

Glancing at his face, then quickly to the ground, Michaela said, "Pleased to meet you, sir!"

"Please, call me Uncle Martin," he replied, as he gave her a bone crushing hug.

Pulling back, thinking to herself, Slimy, dirty, fowl, she said, "Um, is there somewhere I can park the truck that's out of sight? Steve's going to be looking for it."

"Why don't you let my men dispose of it for you?" Martin suggested.

Letting her eyes go a bit wild with panic, Michaela said, "No! It's my only transportation!"

"Okay. Why don't you take it around back to the garage. I'll call over and let the mechanic know you're coming."

Smiling shyly, Michaela said, "Um, thanks."

Michaela climbed up into the midnight blue GMC Canyon and started it up.

"The main areas of the house are monitored with video surveillance. The bedrooms have microphones. I've already tapped into both systems."

"Okay. Hopefully we'll be able to get our evidence and get Tilly out of here within a couple of days."

"Please, be careful."

"Don't worry! It's me!" Michaela smiled at the dash. Then they were in the garage, and Michaela had to resume her act for the mechanic who was approaching.

He was a big burly man who looked more like he should be part of a motorcycle gang, than a mechanic for a very rich security advisor.

"Nice ride," he said, giving the flawless paint job a once over.

"Uh, thanks, but it's technically not mine."

The mechanic now turned toward her, giving her a once over that made her skin crawl.

"Um, I better get back to the house. Aunt Tilly's waiting for me," she gestured through the open garage door, to the house beyond.

Grabbing her arm, he swung her around so she was pinned between him and K.A.I.S.Y. "Not so fast, gorgeous. We haven't gotten to know each other, yet."

His hands were braced against the truck on either side of her. That contact was all K.A.I.S.Y. needed.

The mechanic jolted back in shocked surprise, as a small amount of electric current shot through his hands.

Inspecting his hands, then rubbing them together to try to restore sensation, he watched Michaela turn on her heel and run toward the house.

Knowing her earwig would pick up her voice at just about any volume, she muttered, "Good one, K.A.I.S.Y.!" Inside her head, she was laughing hysterically.

"Thank you. I'll be here all week," was K.A.I.S.Y.'s reply, as he too chuckled heartily.

At the house, Tilly was waiting to show Michaela to a guest room.

Tilly followed Michaela inside and closed the door. She held a finger to her lips, and used her other hand to pull a small notebook and pencil out of her pocket.

Thumbing open the notebook, she quickly wrote, Can't talk, rooms bugged.

Making idle chit chat of the type family make after prolonged separations, Michaela took the notebook and pencil. Yes. I know. I have someone inside. "How have you been, Aunt Tilly?"

Tilly's eyes widened in alarm, but she picked up the spoken conversation while she wrote, No! That's not possible. All the staff here are loyal to Martin! That's why all footage and audio of his outbursts and attacks are nonexistent. "I've been well. How's your dad doing?"

Don't worry! We'll get him. My partner has already hacked into the security system. "Dad's fine. He's just worried about me because of Steve."