Lucas reads over my shoulder, “ ‘Go back to the Royal Suite’? What is this?!”
“A wild goose chase, obviously!” Bradley pants.
“Tell us what the note says!” Teresa demands.
So I shove Kip’s note at her and say, “Here. See if you can manage to decode it.” Then I push through all of them and head for the stairs.
“Not this note!” Teresa cries, like I’m the idiot.
Darren, Marissa, and Marko are right behind me, and as we charge back up the steps, Darren says, “Do we know why we’re going back to the Royal Suite?”
“No,” I tell him quietly. “I thought for sure Kate was down here, but that note was in Kip’s handwriting.”
When we make the first turn, I notice that the Trust Fund Trio are jabbing at the elevators.
At all the elevators.
Which means that the race is on, and with us having to go seven decks up, it’s going to be close.
“I’m not sure I want to go back to the Royal Suite,” Marissa says as we charge up the steps. “Not after what happened earlier!”
“What happened earlier?” Darren asks.
I look at Marissa like, Uh-oh, which Darren totally catches.
“Out with it,” he pants. “What don’t I know?”
“Uh … we were looking for Kip and things got kinda …”
“Kinda what?”
I pull a face. “Kinda out of control?”
“Now, that’s an understatement,” Marissa says.
“Marissa!”
“Well, it is!” Then she totally rats on me. “She locked Noah and Ginger out on the balcony so we could case the joint.”
“We weren’t casing the joint!” I tell him as I huff and puff along. “We were looking for Kip! And Kate! And any sign of … you know, foul play!”
“She locked Noah the Noose on a balcony?” Marko asks. “You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack!” Marissa says. “Which is what he practically gave me when he appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me by the arm.”
Darren looks at her, kind of wild-eyed. “How could he do that when he was locked out on the balcony?”
“He escaped,” I tell him. “He must have gone under the balcony divider, through Bradley’s suite next door, and back in through the Royal Suite’s front door.”
“He was fast, too,” Marissa pants. “Like, poof, there he was. It was scary!”
Darren’s face seems to be frozen in some painful contortion as he asks me, “So how’d you get away?”
Again, Marissa blurts out the answer. “She hurled the urn through the air!”
“What urn?”
“The one with the grandfather’s ashes in it!”
Darren’s face is even more pained than it was before. “You hurled an urn of ashes into the air?”
“So Noah’d let go of Marissa to catch it!” I cry. “So we could escape! Which we did!”
We’re now at the Deck 8 landing, and as we charge up the next flight of stairs, Darren mutters, “I’m starting to understand your grandmother better.”
Which actually makes me feel terrible. “Look, I was just trying to find out what happened to Kip, okay?”
“Well, obviously, he’s fine,” Marissa says.
“Ginger must’ve called down there when the others raced to meet us at the library,” I pant out. “How else could they have known we were coming?”
“They?” Darren asks.
My brain’s racing as fast as my feet. “I’m thinking that Kate must’ve been down there, too, and that Kip figured out the code and found her.”
“So you think the Diamond Dame is behind all this?” Marko asks.
“From what’s in the message, I’d say she has to be.”
“We haven’t even seen the message, you know,” Darren says, and he’s sounding kinda disgruntled.
So I hand it over and tell him, “The periodic table turned out to be the decoder. I figured it out while I was doing my homework.”
He reads it and frowns as he hands it over to Marko. “You figured it out. A family of chemists, and you’re the one who decodes it for them?” He gives me a proud-papa look and says, “My child is a genius!”
I can feel my cheeks flush, and I’m about to say something about the Kensington “kids” not actually being chemists, when Marko hands the note back to me and I notice that while the rest of us are gasping for air, he’s not breathing hard at all. He’s just jogging along while we’re all dying. And apparently he can read minds—or faces—because he grins at me and says, “I’ve basically run in place a couple of hours at a stretch several nights a week for my entire life. This is a nice little warm-up for tonight.”
And that’s when I remember.
They’ve got two shows to do!
“Have you even got time for this?” I ask Darren as we come to the Deck 10 landing.
“I haven’t got time to miss this,” he says back. And even though I’m not sure what that means, I like the way it sounds.
“The Troublemakers take it by a mile!” Marko announces, pumping a fist in the air when he sees that there are no Kensingtons in sight.
So we beeline for the Royal Suite door and ring the bell, and while we’re waiting for the door to open, one of the elevators dings open, and over my shoulder I see Bradley step out, followed by Lucas and Teresa.
And then the Royal Suite door opens and I find myself face to face with a man.
A man I’ve never seen before.
And I’m about to say, “Who are you?” because all of a sudden nothing is making sense—only then it hits me that, yes, I have seen him before.
In the picture that was next to the urn.
And, click, using the periodic table of elements as a decoder now makes total sense.
“Dr. Kensington?” I gasp.
“Sammy,” he says with a kind smile. “Kip has told me all about you.”
Behind me I hear gasps and “It can’t be,” and “What is this?” and a breathy “Oh, no!” come out of the Kensington kids.
Now, maybe Dr. Kensington’s not a young guy anymore, but his hearing must still be sharp, because he raises an eyebrow and says, “Oh, yes. And what this is, Bradley, is a test. Which you all failed miserably.” Then he moves aside and tells his kids, “Your mother and brother are waiting. Get in here.”
“Who’s this guy?” Darren whispers to me as the Kensington kids file past us without a word.
“The dead dad,” I whisper back.
When Darren realizes what we’re actually dealing with, the cool rocker in him disappears. He locks eyes with Dr. Kensington and says, “You faked your death? What kind of sick thing is that to do to your kids?”
Dr. Kensington’s eyebrows both go for a stretch now. “They’re grown adults,” he tells him. “And desperate times call for desperate measures.” Then he adds, “And they’re clearly more upset to discover I’m alive than they were when they thought I was dead.”
“And what does that say about you?” Darren says, totally not letting him off the hook. “My poor daughter here has been really worried about Kip. You’re saying he’s been with you this whole time? And your wife’s just fine, too? What kind of sick game was this?”
I hold out Bradley’s deciphered code to the Walking Dead Guy and tell him, “Yeah, I’m wondering whose idea the ‘kindness is essential’ part was? Because there’s nothing nice about any of this.”
“What are you doing with Bradley’s copy?” he asks, taking it from me.
“It sorta fell out of his pocket when he was passed out drunk in the casino.” I swing off my backpack and dig up the forged suicide note. “Along with this.”
His face flushes red when he realizes what he’s looking at.
Kate comes up behind him and says, “I’m so very sorry about all of this. Won’t you come in?”
Dr. K. looks at her like, What? Are you crazy? And he actually says, “Kate, this is a family matter.”
But sh
e gives him a stern look and tells him, “Not anymore. Our children couldn’t be bothered to figure out your message, but she did. She and Kip were the only ones who cared enough to even try.” She reaches out and pulls me in while she keeps looking at her husband. “As hard as it was, and as much as I didn’t want to, I went along with your charade. Now you’re going to allow this. We owe her and her family an explanation.”
“All of them?” he gasps.
“If you think we’re letting her inside without us, you’re certifiable,” Marko tells him.
But then I realize that I don’t want to go inside. I don’t care about their stupid family feud. I don’t want to hear them bicker and blame. Besides, Darren and Marko have a concert to put on!
So I tell Kate, “Thanks, but maybe it’s better if we don’t.”
“But we owe you an explanation! And an apology!”
I step back outside. “Tomorrow’s probably better.”
“That’s fine,” she says with a smile. “Anytime that works for you. But promise me you’ll come back.”
I can see Kip sort of hovering a few steps behind Kate now. And although I probably should be mad at him, it hits me how the poor guy’s really stuck in limbo. His best friend and mentor is a man who faked his death to teach his other kids a lesson, he’ll never really be a real brother to the other Kensington kids, and they’ll probably resent him forever for things that weren’t his fault.
And since I don’t really know what happened or completely understand the situation, it doesn’t seem fair to snub him. So I give him a little wave, and when he gives me a grateful smile and a little wave back, I turn to Kate and ask, “Uh, does Kip have to be at your meeting?”
She sort of stares at me, and I can tell she’s not sure how she should answer.
So I say, “I think after everything he’s been through, you should let him go to a rock concert.”
“A rock concert!” Dr. K. says, like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard of.
But Kate puts an arm around Kip’s shoulders and asks him, “Would you like to?” and when his head bobs, she says, “I think that’s a fine idea.” Then she asks him, “You’re staying here, right? You’ve got your key?” and when he nods again, she tells him, “Well, have fun.”
“Dude,” Marko calls over to him, and holds up his sticks.
Dr. K. looks at his wife like she’s lost her mind. “Dude?”
But Kip’s already busting out of the Royal Suite with a total kid grin all over his face. “Awesome!”
“Awesome?” Dr. K. says, with his eyebrows all haywire.
“Come on, dear,” Kate says, pulling her husband away from the door. “We’re in for a long night and I think Kip’s been locked up with us long enough. Besides, he already knows everything we’re going to tell the others, so let him enjoy some time with his friends.” Then she waves at me and calls, “Don’t forget to come back tomorrow!”
So Kip escapes with us, and when we get to the stairs, I ask, “Is anyone else hungry?” because all of a sudden I’m starving.
Darren shakes his head. “Marko and I have to get ready for the show.”
“Dude, we’ve got time,” Marko tells him.
“No, dude, we don’t.” Then Darren turns to me and says, “You’ll be at the show, right?” like he’s worried something else might happen.
“We’ll be at both of them,” I tell him. And since he’s looking kinda doubtful, I laugh and say, “No sidetracks or falling overboard.”
“Or locking crazy people on balconies?”
I laugh, “Promise.”
Then Marissa puts on her best puppy-dog face and begs, “Can we pleeeeeease be backstage during the second show?”
Darren laughs, “Of course,” which makes Marissa pump a fist and go, “Yes!”
So while Darren and Marko head down the stairs to Deck 9 so they can do their pre-show showering or rock star primping or whatever, the three of us go up to the Schooner Buffet. And this time, boy, I load up! I do the whole buffet line and hit all the islands, plus fill up two glasses of pink lemonade.
“So,” I tell Kip when we’re sitting down. “Start talking. Whose insane idea was all this?”
“Grandfather’s,” he says, and there’s not even a hint of him acting like a secret-keeping Kensington. “Apparently the last time he and Grandmother were in Kenya on business, Bradley, Lucas, and Teresa all called him several times asking for money. He was in a very poor part of the country where there were starving kids and really bad conditions, and he decided his own kids were greedy and spoiled and didn’t deserve another dollar. He wanted to cut them out of the will, but Grandmother argued against it. But then Grandfather got really sick with some virus and thought he was going to die in Africa. Nobody told me anything about it, but Grandmother told the rest of them, and instead of flying out to see him, they tried to get the lawyer to tell them what was in his will. When Grandfather heard about that, he got so disgusted that he came up with the idea of faking his own death to prove to Grandmother that all the three of them cared about was money.”
“Looks like your grandfather was right,” I tell him with a frown.
Kip sighs. “Yeah. It’s pretty sad.”
“So who all was in on this? And when did you find out?”
“At first it was just Grandmother, but after the big blowout over me being in line to inherit a quarter of the estate—which I had no idea about—she told Ginger, and Ginger got Noah involved.”
I make a little face. “I think we got Noah in trouble with the captain.”
Kip nods. “He’s been ‘relieved of his duties.’ But now that everything’s out, I’m sure Grandmother’ll find a way to fix all that.”
“So your grandfather was on board the whole time,” I mutter.
He nods. “Down in cabin 3877.”
“And Kate just couldn’t take the way her kids were acting, so she went to hide out with him?”
“Right. Only they didn’t stay locked in the cabin the whole time. They went out in disguises.”
“They did?”
“Grandmother told me she loved going out in disguise and spying. You would never have recognized her, either. She wore a black pantsuit with a black wig and had a gnarly mole on her lip—”
“That was Kate?” Marissa and I cry.
“You saw her?”
“She had a cane, right?” I ask. “And a big, ugly plastic necklace? And sunglasses?”
“Yes! That was her!”
I think a minute, then say, “That day we were trying to find Noah backstage … Ginger was getting Kate a disguise?”
He nods.
“Wow,” I laugh. “Hiding in plain view, just like Darren and Marko.”
“She and Grandfather eavesdropped on the others like crazy.” He eyes me and says, “By the way, she called Kensington Clue ‘eye-opening.’ ”
“She did?”
He nods. “She said that after she got over the shock of it, she thought it was funny, too.” He takes a deep breath. “She also said that what you guys seem to have as family and friends is something money can’t buy … but sure can destroy.”
“Whoa. That’s deep,” Marissa murmurs, and I know she can relate—money’s the thing that destroyed Marissa’s family, and I’m pretty sure that no amount of it will ever patch it back together.
Anyway, Kip goes on to tell us how Ginger bribed the stewards to call the Royal Suite with news on Bradley’s or Lucas’ or Teresa’s comings and goings. “Help is invisible to the three of them, so they never even noticed.”
We’re all quiet a minute, and then I tell Kip, “We were worried about you, you know.”
He nods. “And I’m sorry. Noah said he put a note under your door.”
“Yeah, but it was typed. I figured if it was from you, you’d write it by hand.”
“I probably would have,” he says, “but I was still sort of freaked out by … by …”
“By what?” I ask.
He
sort of looks away. “You know that night I hung out with you guys?”
“The night you disappeared?”
He nods. “I woke up at three in the morning, and my mother—well, Teresa—was standing over me with this really scary look on her face. It looked like she wanted to kill me. So I grabbed some stuff and went up to Aunt Ginger’s, and that’s when she told me that I was really adopted by my grandfather and was in his will to get a fourth of everything. She also told me what was going on.” He shakes his head. “I was mad and happy and scared for my life and hugely relieved.… It was a really weird night.”
“So are you going to start living with your grandparents?”
Marissa adds, “Who are legally your parents?”
“I can’t call them anything but Grandmother and Grandfather,” he says. “The whole thing is just too strange.” Then he takes a deep breath and says, “But yes. We talked a lot the last two days. It’s going to be really good.”
After that, he wants to know how I’d figured out the code, so I tell him, and when I’m all done, he shakes his head and goes, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Grandfather couldn’t believe none of us thought of it, either. He said it should have been obvious to any Kensington.”
“Obvious?” I cry. “Please.”
“I know. He was pretty upset when he said that. But he also said he wanted to see them put an effort in—to really work at something. And Grandmother was hoping the three of them would come together to solve it.”
I frown and shake my head a little. “I think the only thing they worked together on was planning a forged suicide note.”
“A what?”
So I catch him up on that little find, and then have to answer a bunch of other questions—like how come we locked Ginger and Noah on the balcony and how we got Bradley’s copy of the coded note and stuff like that. And we wind up talking about the details of everything until finally Marissa says, “I am not going to a rock concert looking like this.” She eyes me. “And you are not hauling along that backpack.”
I laugh, because it’s not the first time someone’s told me I can’t bring a backpack to a concert. “Right.” And then I see how late it is. “Oh, wow! Let’s go!”
It was definitely time to rock ’n’ roll!
Sammy Keyes and the Killer Cruise Page 23
