Hide and Seek

By R. D. Scott

When you hunt for the truth, be ready for what you find, it may not be what you expect.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. D. Scott
• Release date: Nov 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393847854

R. D. Scott

Retired policeman and retired private detective.  The golf got boring and writing took it's place.

Book preview

By

R. D. Scott

Copyright Notices  Copyright © 2019 by R. D. Scott

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including information storage and/ or retrieval systems, or dissemination of any electronic version, without the prior written consent of the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review, and except where permitted by law. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contents

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Discovery - - - - - - - - -The young mind joined with curiosity and

adventure is an experience worth having, as Carol 

develops the skills she needs to help those around 

her. 

The Answer - - - - - - - -Proving her skills working at the FBI, Carol has

gained the attention of the White House, and they 

need her skills to search for a traitor. 

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Faithfully Execute - - - -Letting her skills be used unethically is not how

Carol operates, denying POTUS his plans, she 

looks for other ways to help her country.

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Now What? - - - - - - - -Avoiding powerful people is not easy, but Carol

has experience hiding her actions.  This time she's

not alone.

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Misdirected - - - - - - - -The threats to the President and the Country are not

just corporate greed.  Sometimes it's a need for 

power.

Discovery 

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Chapter 1

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There's nothing more dramatic, for a six year old first grader, than the first day of school.  Careful planning by my parents had increased the excitement level, but this was the first time I'd be going somewhere alone.  Being the center of my parents world was all I knew, now that was going to be ended, They were sending me away.  They were sending me into the world by myself, what did I do wrong?  I could clearly imagine all the horrible things that would happen to me and I was certain my parents would disappear.  I have a great imagination.

My mother walked me to school and attempted to calm my obvious fears.  She even explained how much fun I was going to have and not be ready to come home after school. That made it worse, she was trying to soften the blow, I knew she was preparing me to be alone forever.

Hello, Carol.  A white haired woman greeted me when we arrived at the school.  I am Mrs. Newell, I will be your first grade teacher.  I was still desperately holding my mother's hand.  I had read about jail.  Now let go of your mother and she can come back this afternoon to get you.  I want you to do me a big favor though, as you are walking home later, you need to let her know everything you do today.  She is worried you will not even miss her and you need to reassure her.  Whoa, Mom is worried?

Okay, I will.  I spoke softly, my fears were slowly going away.  If Mom was really worried about missing me, then she'd be back later.

I was sure the other kids were used to being alone, so I kept clear of them, I didn't want to hear the horror stories and I didn't want them to think I was a scaredy cat.  Mrs. Newell must have noticed and took me aside before lunch.  She explained that all the kids were unsure of each other and so she needed my help.  She wanted me to go up to just one other girl and say hello, then to tell her that all the kids were nervous.  I watched her face as she spoke to me and I decided she was being sincere, then I asked my first question.

Mrs. Newell, why do you talk that way?  You say words like do not instead of don't, I am instead of I'm, and I will instead of I'll.  It sounded different enough to catch my ear's attention.  She straightened up and gave me a strange look, then explained.

That is amazing, Carol.  No one has ever mentioned it.  I will answer your question if you promise to answer mine.  I nodded agreement.  I grew up in a very proper Boston family and ever since I was your age my parents encouraged me to not use contracted words.  It is not readily apparent, but in some cases, the meaning of a contraction is slightly different than it is when spoken as two words.  I know my mouth dropped open and my mind began racing to determine the possible meanings of two words as compared to contractions.  Remember, Great imagination.

Now, my question.  You parsed, that means separated and examined, my words in a unique way.  How did you do that?  She led me to the cafeteria as I answered.  Somehow the morning had breezed by, it was now lunch time.  Curiosity and new adventures can do that.

Last Easter, I was in the kitchen having breakfast and my parents were talking.  I began answering her question.  "After a few minutes I noticed that they were not really having the same conversation.  Mrs. Newell smiled and patted my shoulder when I emphasized the words were and not.  As I listened to them talking it was like hearing two different conversations.  Parts of what one said were in answer to parts of what the other said, but a lot of what they said did not match."  Again a smile and pat on the shoulder.

You remember that much about what they said?  Her eyebrows had gone up.

"Yes, I remember every word I can hear.  If I watch TV I remember all the words and if I do not understand a word, I look it up."  It was fun talking like that.

Ever since then I would try to figure out what was really said compared to what they meant.

Let us have lunch and after lunch I would like to do an experiment.  It should be fun.  Hey, maybe school is fun.  My worried brain started relaxing.

My first grade year was fun, Mrs. Newell helped me stop using contractions and in addition helped me understand that I had a gift.  Not anyone she knew could remember exactly what they heard like I did, only bits and pieces.  One of the most amazing things I learned, people talking to each other only respond to the words they hear and remember, so conversations would not always match.  Some of what they heard was not actually said, their own thoughts interpreted what they heard and the real words were lost.  She was also surprised early that first year to learn that I already knew how to read and could do some minor arithmetic.  I explained that my Mom used to read to me and hearing the words and comparing them to the words in the book became a game for us.  My Dad, seeing the fun I was having, decided to expand the game to learning some basic arithmetic.

By the time Mrs Newell began teaching me, I was already reading at a third grade level and adding and subtracting numbers was a snap.  When she added multiplication and division, I was thrilled.  The next few months I think were fun for her also, she had to keep coming up with interesting things for me to do in an effort to prevent boredom and to test my limits.

After that school year summer flew by, I hung around my parents whenever they let me, the friends I had made in first grade were only kind of fun, but just playing constantly was not my speed.  Then it was time for school again.

We need to talk about school.  Dad began at dinner about a week before my new class would start.  You know how well you did in first grade, and so does Mrs. Newell.  He knew Mrs. Newell?  I looked at my Mom, who was smiling.

She told your mother and me that it would be a waste of time for you to go to the second grade.  I sucked in as much air as possible, did they plan to keep me home?  Was I that dumb, I felt smart. Great Imagination.

What am I going to do, sit at home all day?  This was a big problem.

No, Mrs. Newell had a solution, you should start this year in the third grade.

He stopped talking to watch me for a reaction, I just had no idea how to react.  I was not, Mrs. Newell's influence, worried about losing friends.  I looked at Mom and then turned to Dad and said so now what.  We signed you up for third grade and then thought about what else Mrs. Newell said.  She suggested we get you a computer to explore things on your own.  Wow!  And then the best news of all, Mrs. Newell was moving to the third grade with me.  I was nodding as fast as I could, the few times I had been allowed to use a computer at school I was thrilled.  My parents agreed to get me a computer, but would monitor what I used it for.

Do Not ever let a curious eight year old near a computer.  That is what my parents finally agreed on when it was to late.  In my opinion that was totally overboard, just because I found out about the real world was no excuse to hold me or any kid back from learning.

The computer I was gifted with was tremendous, I could search for answers to any question my young mind thought up.  Instead of jumping right in to play games, I started digging into how it worked, not the wiring, the computing.  That was fascinating by itself, but even more fascinating was the infinite places I could go for information.  The things I learned were great, but figuring out how to get even more information was exhilarating, it was like dominoes, one idea fell into another idea.  The more I found the harder I looked and did not have a limit on my explorations.  In fairness to my parents opinion, it took me almost four months to figure out that my poor first computer was little better than a fancy calculator, or maybe a beginners encyclopedia.  It had limits.  I was smart enough to understand the value of money and discovered that a computer like I wanted was out of reach financially.

Then I found an online game show.  It was designed around the concept of getting all computer users together so that their advertising was most effective.  In order to get the users interested, a game was instituted, a skills and knowledge game.  I got hooked.  I began by trying to answer the knowledge questions and found that there was a world full of answers on the internet.  I had to research what some of the questions meant as they were way above third grade level.  When I discovered that each site I went to for answers also had a help section as well as a hint section to enhance the experience on the individual sites, I thought I was in beginners heaven.

Then the gates crashed down.  The time I had been spending on my computer developed into every waking minute.  I would wake early before school and get on the computer, I would rush home and get on the computer, I would barely stop to eat, then get back on my computer.  I thought weekends and holidays were invented just for me, it gave me more free time to get on my computer.  Until my parents got involved and put strict limits on my time.

I was not to get on the computer in the morning, I was not to get on the computer until after dinner and then only for two hours.  I was to only get on the computer two hours each day on weekends and only two hours on holidays.  I felt like I had been thrown into a dungeon.  The only weapon I had to fight back at the unfairness of my parents, was me, so I stopped eating to protest.  On the third day of my new nonexistent diet, I collapsed and I was driven to the hospital to keep me alive.  When I came to, I thought it was over, my great imagination knew I was in the biggest trouble ever, my parents were in the room, but so was Mrs. Newell.

I heard that Carol was brought here and I became worried.  Upon asking I was told that she had refused to eat.  Mrs. Newell proclaimed to my parents.  It dawned on me that she might be rebelling, so please tell me what happened, maybe I can help.  My parents simultaneously began speaking, then both stopped in embarrassment.  Mom then told Mrs. Newell about my computer obsession and the restrictions placed on my use.  They all looked at me and Mrs. Newell gently asked for me for an explanation.

The summer before First grade started my parents took me to the State Fair grounds on the Fourth of July.  I saw the most beautiful fireworks.  The flashing lights and the feel of the explosions in the sky was great.  It was everything I could want, until I got my computer and started exploring the internet.  I got that same feeling of fireworks every time I logged in.  Then it was taken away by Mom and Dad.  By now my tears had joined the story.  "I didn't want to eat, I didn't want to go to school, I didn't want to sleep, I wanted to get on the computer anytime."  Using contractions put emphasis on my story to Mrs. Newell.

Mrs. Newell turned to my parents and asked if I had missed any meals before the restrictions, or if I had failed to do my homework for school, or if I had failed to do assigned chores at home.  Mom told her no, but I wasn't going out to play anymore, she wasn't sure if I had any friends and she knew I didn't have any hobbies except for that computer.

Let me see if I can explain.  Mrs. Newell.  When your daughter was in my first grade class, she played with a few of the other kids, then gradually drifted away from them.  She smile at me and took my hand.  It took me almost a month to figure out that she was sitting at lunch in the cafeteria as close as possible to the teachers as she could.  She was listening to their conversations.  Another unconnected fact appeared, she always checked out a book on Mondays and Wednesdays, and two books on Fridays from the library.  The confused looks on my parents faces was changing to interest.

I was curious enough to trick her.  One day I handed out a small quiz to all the children except Carol. She continued.  To her I gave a short IQ test.  I loudly announced to the whole class that I did not expect them to know all the answers, but to answer what they could and we would talk about the ones they could not answer.  She gave us a huge smile.  When I reviewed the quizzes, my suspicions were vindicated, her listening to adult conversations and her excessive library visits were because of curiosity.  The books she checked out were not storybooks, they were reference books and they took her a day to read and understand, she was seeking knowledge, not distractions.  She squeezed my hand and smiled even bigger.  "Her