The Titan's Curse

asked.
    Then I saw the man in the trench coat. He was across the street, leaning against a big dead tree. He was barrel shaped, with skin the color of roasted coffee. His coat and black pinstriped suit looked expensive. He had long braided hair and wore a black fedora pulled down low over his dark round glasses. He reminded me of a jazz musician, the kind my dad would always drag me to see in concert. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I got the impression he was watching us. He might’ve been an old friend or colleague of Dad’s. No matter where we went, Dad was always running into people he knew. But it did seem strange that the guy was waiting here, outside my grandparents’. And he didn’t look happy.
    “Carter,” my dad said, “go on ahead.”
    “But—”
    “Get your sister. I’ll meet you back at the taxi.”
    He crossed the street toward the man in the trench coat, which left me with two choices: follow my dad and see what was going on, or do what I was told.
    I decided on the slightly less dangerous path. I went to retrieve my sister.
     
    Before I could even knock, Sadie opened the door.
    “Late as usual,” she said.
    She was holding her cat, Muffin, who’d been a “going away” gift from Dad six years before. Muffin never seemed to get older or bigger. She had fuzzy yellow-and-black fur like a miniature leopard, alert yellow eyes, and pointy ears that were too tall for her head. A silver Egyptian pendant dangled from her collar. She didn’t look anything like a muffin, but Sadie had been little when she named her, so I guess you have to cut her some slack.
    Sadie hadn’t changed much either since last summer.
    [As I’m recording this, she’s standing next to me, glaring, so I guess I’d better be careful how I describe her.]
    You would never guess she’s my sister. First of all, she’d been living in England so long, she has a British accent. Second, she takes after our mom, who was white, so Sadie’s skin is much lighter than mine. She has straight caramel-colored hair, not exactly blond but not brown, which she usually dyes with streaks of bright colors. That day it had red streaks down the left side. Her eyes are blue. I’m serious. Blue eyes, just like our mom’s. She’s only twelve, but she’s exactly as tall as me, which is really annoying. She was chewing gum as usual, dressed for her day out with Dad in battered jeans, a leather jacket, and combat boots, like she was going to a concert and was hoping to stomp on some people. She had headphones dangling around her neck in case we bored her.
    [Okay, she didn’t hit me, so I guess I did an okay job of describing her.]
    “Our plane was late,” I told her.
    She popped a bubble, rubbed Muffin’s head, and tossed the cat inside. “Gran, going out!”
    From somewhere in the house, Grandma Faust muttered something I couldn’t make out, probably “Don’t let them in!”
    Sadie closed the door and regarded me as if I were a dead mouse her cat had just dragged in. “So, here you are again.”
    “Yep.”
    “Come on, then.” She sighed. “Let’s get on with it.”
    That’s the way she was. No “Hi, how you been the last six months? So glad to see you!” or anything. But that was okay with me. When you only see each other twice a year, it’s like you’re distant cousins rather than siblings. We had absolutely nothing in common except our parents.
    We trudged down the steps. I was thinking how she smelled like a combination of old people’s house and bubble gum when she stopped so abruptly, I ran into her.
    “Who’s that?” she asked.
    I’d almost forgotten about the dude in the trench coat. He and my dad were standing across the street next to the big tree, having what looked like a serious argument. Dad’s back was turned so I couldn’t see his face, but he gestured with his hands like he does when he’s agitated. The other guy scowled and shook his head.
    “Dunno,” I said. “He was there when we pulled up.”
    “He looks familiar.” Sadie frowned like she was trying to remember. “Come on.”
    “Dad wants us to wait in the cab,” I said, even though I knew it was no use. Sadie was already on the move.
    Instead of going straight across the street, she dashed up the sidewalk for half a block, ducking behind cars, then crossed to the opposite side and crouched under a low stone wall. She started sneaking toward our dad. I didn’t have much choice but to follow her example, but it made me feel kind