Before Cammy could reply, the newcomer looked at Grady and said, “Mr. Adams, I’ve seen your furniture, and it’s wonderful. I’ve only seen photos, of course, on your website, but pictures never do that kind of thing justice, so it must be even more splendid, I hope you might show me what’s currently under way in your workshop sometime before we wrap this and get out of your hair.”
Grady instantly disliked the man. “Who’re you?”
“I believe,” Cammy said, “this is Mr. Jardine.”
“I’m so sorry,” the deputy director said. “I’ve seen photographs of you both, but of course you haven’t seen any of me. Paul Jardine with Homeland Security. Pleased to meet you. And I do regret you’re being inconvenienced like this. I’m grateful for your cooperation, your patriotism.”
Jardine ventured onto the steps, expecting them to admit him to the porch, but by mutual unspoken agreement, they stood their ground, looking down on him.
“What are those stainless-steel vehicles?” Grady asked.
“Three of them are mobile laboratories. The fourth contains two Cray supercomputers capable of separate or tandem operation, immense analytic capability. We’ll be drawing power from the utility-company lines to run the operation, but on the street side of your meter, so don’t worry about being billed. Though we will need to tap your well, as there aren’t public water mains out here.”
Grady said, “I didn’t know Homeland Security maintained its own paramilitary force.”
“Oh, we don’t, Mr. Adams. Setting up a training academy would be quite a long project and expensive. We contract them from a private company with excellent screening procedures to be sure we’re getting only agents devoted to America and to the safety of the American people.”
“Maybe we should get our politicians from the same company,” Grady said.
“That’s good,” said Paul Jardine. “I’ll remember that one, I’ll make good use of it.”
The armed agent who had directed the mobile laboratories into the driveway now joined Jardine, and the deputy director said, “Dr. Rivers, where are the two animals? I’m very excited to be able to see them, they appear incredible in your photos, we must get to work on our little mystery.”
“They’re in the house,” Cammy said. “Do you have a warrant?”
“Yes, thank you so much for reminding me,” Jardine said.
From one inside coat pocket he withdrew two folded documents. He examined them for a moment, then handed one to Grady.
“This is a facsimile of a warrant signed by a federal judge with jurisdiction in this district. The original will be here by courier shortly. You are herewith instructed by the court to give us full and immediate access to every building on the property as well as to the grounds in their entirety.”
He handed the second document to Grady, as well. “The original warrant also gives us the right to impound any property we find that might be related to the commission of a crime or to a threat to the security of the American people. The second document I’ve just given you is a further and specific instruction from the court requiring you to relinquish custody of the two animals to us upon request, a request that I am at this time making. Mr. Adams, Dr. Rivers, will you please show me to these amazing creatures?”
Cammy half hoped that Puzzle and Riddle had slipped out the back door and hightailed it into the mountains, regardless of their chances of survival in the wilds.
They were, however, in the kitchen. They weren’t chowing down again, but were instead going through drawers in search of gadgets and other items that struck them as curious and appealing. Puzzle was standing on a chair positioned to allow her to look down into a drawer, holding out each discovery for Riddle’s evaluation. When they found one they liked the looks of – an egg timer, a wine-bottle cork extractor of elaborate design, a packet of bright yellow cocktail napkins, ceramic-penguin salt and pepper shakers – they added it to an eclectic collection they were building on the floor in front of the dishwasher.
Perhaps anticipating trouble akin to the jalapeño episode, Merlin had retreated under the kitchen table. He lay there, peering out warily at his new friends as they ransacked the drawers.
When Jardine saw the wolfhound, he said, “Mr. Adams, please collar your dog.”
“He’s harmless,” Grady assured the deputy director.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but a couple of centuries ago, his kind hunted wolves virtually to extinction in Ireland. Wolves, for God’s sake. I won’t risk an attack by a dog that big. I’m ordering you to collar him.”
“Good idea,” said the armed agent. “I concur.”
Cammy could see that the word order was not well received by Grady. Always surprised that the rough quality about him pleased her, she took particular pleasure from the menace in the glare that he directed at Jardine.
“You won’t find a more peaceable breed or one with a gentler disposition,” Grady said. “But I’ll collar him to spare you the need to change your underwear.”
Very nice, Cammy thought approvingly – and almost said it aloud.
Grady took a collar and leash from a Peg-Board, and Merlin crawled on his belly from under the table to submit to restraint.
Uninvited, another and particularly hulking black-uniformed agent appeared from the hallway, carrying two pet crates. He put them on the floor and opened them.
“That one seems to be the male,” Jardine said. “He might be agitated if you grab the female. So cage him first, Carter.”
To this point, the golden-eyed individuals remained obsessed with exploring the kitchen drawers. Riddle startled but didn’t resist when the most recently arrived agent, Carter, seized him by the scruff of the neck and by the tail, and manhandled him into a crate.
Merlin’s restrained growl would not have frightened a wolf, but the disconcerted weasel said to Grady, “Keep that leash short.”
“I’ll kennel the other one,” Cammy said.
“Please stay back,” Jardine said, and in spite of the please, it was a warning. “These animals belong to us now, and we’ll deal with them.”
“But there’s no need to handle them so crudely,” she protested.
“For the record,” Jardine said, “the animal didn’t cry out or indicate in any way either that it was caused pain or even that it was frightened.”
“They don’t seem to know they should fear anything,” Cammy said. “Maybe now they’re going to learn.”
Carter snared Puzzle from the chair and shoved her into the second crate.
Again Merlin growled, but he was too well-behaved to test his leash.
Infuriated by their insensitivity, Cammy said, “What’s the matter with you? Look at them, look how beautiful they are, how amazing.”
“Yes,” Jardine replied, “they’re pretty, they’re very pretty, just like in their pictures. But whether they’re pretty or not, we have a job to do, and we have to get on with it.”
The spaces between the crossbars in the crate door would not allow Riddle to reach through and disengage the latch, but he tried.
From imprisonment, the animals regarded Cammy with bewilderment, as each of the uniformed agents carried a crate out of the kitchen.
No sooner