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patents registered. And he owns stacks of property too. He does lots of things.”
    “What kind of patents?”
    “I don’t know!” I say. “They’re all in scientific gobbledygook.”
    I scroll through my Google search and read out some of the entries. “ Corey Andrews, honored by the Institute of Electrical Engineers…Corey Andrews stepped down as chairman of Firelight Innovations, Inc….Corey Andrews’s growing property empire— Oh. Wait. This is from the Las Vegas Herald, a few years ago: Corey Andrews celebrates his fiftieth birthday at the Mandarin Oriental with friends and associates .” I look up from my phone in consternation. “His fiftieth ? I thought he was the same age as Dad.”

    “Shit.” Luke turns the engine off. “Are we in the wrong place? Is this the wrong Corey?”
    “Well, I don’t know,” I say, confused. “Because he’s definitely a Corey Andrews who puts eagles in his pictures.”
    “Could there be more than one who does the same thing?” suggests Suze.
    There’s silence as we all consider this.
    “Only one way to find out,” says Luke at last. He jumps down and we watch him speaking into the intercom. A moment later he’s back in the RV and the gates are swinging open.
    “What did they say?” demands Janice eagerly.
    “They thought we were here for a party,” says Luke. “I didn’t disabuse them.”
    As we travel up the drive, a man in a gray linen outfit directs us to park the RV next to a building that looks like an aircraft hangar. This place is seriously huge, with massive trees and great potted plants everywhere. The netting of a tennis court is visible from where we’ve parked, and jazz from hidden speakers is filling the air. The other cars are all shiny convertibles, most with customized number plates. One says DOLLAR 34 , another is KRYSTLE , and a third is a stretch limo spray-painted with a tiger print.

    “Tiger car!” exclaims Minnie, looking transfixed with joy. “Tiger car, Mummy!”
    “It’s beautiful, darling,” I say, trying not to giggle. “So, where are we going to go now?” I turn to the others. “You realize we’re totally gate-crashing?”
    “I’ve never been anywhere like this in my life,” says Suze, wide-eyed.
    “Suze, you own a castle in Scotland,” I point out.
    “Yes, but not like this, ” she counters. “This is like a Disney castle! Look, there’s a helicopter pad on the roof!”
    The man in the gray linen outfit approaches, eyeing us up and down dubiously.
    “Are you here for Peyton’s party?” he inquires. “May I take your names?”
    I must admit, we don’t look like party guests. We don’t even have a present for Peyton, whoever Peyton is.
    “We won’t be on the list,” says Luke smoothly. “But we’d like to see Corey Andrews. It’s a matter of some urgency.”
    “It’s a matter of life and death,” chimes in Mum wildly.
    “We’ve come all the way from Oxshott,” Janice adds. “Oxshott in England.”
    “We want to find my dad,” I explain.
    “And my husband,” says Suze, pushing her way to the front of the group. “He’s missing, and we think maybe Corey knows something about it.”
    The linen-suit man is looking bewildered.
    “I’m afraid Mr. Andrews is tied up right now,” he says, backing away from Suze. “If you can give me your details, I’ll pass them on—”
    “But we need to see him now!” says Mum passionately.
    “We’ll be quick,” says Luke.

    “Want to ride tiger car!” Minnie puts in emphatically.
    “We won’t be any trouble,” adds Mum eagerly. “If you could just—”
    “Please give Mr. Andrews this.” A low voice comes from behind us, and we all turn to see Alicia coming forward, holding out a Golden Peace card with its distinctive shiny insignia and some words scribbled on it.
    The man takes it, reads it in silence, and his expression changes.
    “Well,” he says. “I’ll let Mr. Andrews know you’re here.”
    He retreats and we all face Alicia,