We asked the driver to park, and got out. It was dark, but thankfully, the observatory and the parking lot were well lit. There were lots of tourists, even though it was pretty late in the day. Cars were coming and going, people taking pictures—finding Kurt might be harder than I thought. At least the crowd might keep me safe, I figured.
“Now what?” Savannah asked me.
It was almost eight o’clock. “Now we hope he shows up.”
“Why did you choose Griffith Park, anyway?” Savannah asked. We walked away from the parking lot, along the overlook, where you could see the Hollywood Sign in the hills off in the distance.
“Honestly, it’s a place that has lots of people around.” I watched another couple pass—tourists, judging from the cameras. “I don’t want Melais to try to . . . hurt me.”
“It’s eight o’clock,” Savannah said after checking her watch. “So this is the part where that Ethan Melais character is supposed to show up, right?” She looked all excited. “And then he’ll pay you to not tell anyone who he really is. Only you’ll catch him instead. Right?”
I should have told her this wasn’t a game, or method acting or whatever she called it. This was serious stuff. But it was pointless, so I played along. “Exactly. And I’ll hand him over to Pandora.” I pulled at the straps on my new backpack, and looked for Kurt. “But you need to hang back, okay?”
“This is really awesome,” Savannah said, ignoring me. She glanced around.
“Try not to look so obvious.” I was getting nervous now.
“Who should I be?” Savannah whispered. “What’s my character?”
“What do you mean?” She was getting on my nerves a little by now. But then I looked at her, and saw how she was totally into this acting business. “You can be my assistant or something.”
“Absolutely not.” She pulled my arm. “I’m nobody’s assistant, sidekick, or anything.”
“Sorry. You’ll be my partner.”
“I like that.” Savannah straightened. “Maybe I can have special skills. My character could be a strong fighter—I know a little karate.”
I was about to tell her that there was no need for that, when I thought I saw a dude with a hat. A fedora, like Kurt’s. He was off in the crowd, walking toward us. But I couldn’t tell if it was Kurt, because he was hidden behind a group of tourists in matching yellow shirts.
“I think that might be him, over there,” I told Savannah. “Stay back, okay?”
“This is so exciting,” Savannah said. “It’s like a real case.”
“Because it is a real case!”
“Right, of course.” She gave me a wink. Normally, I would have given anything for a pretty girl like Savannah to wink at me, but I needed to chase a bad dude. No time for distractions.
We rushed past the tourists, who were just not making any moves to get out of the way. And once we got to the end of the parking lot, I lost the dude in the hat.
I stopped, and so did Savannah. We both looked back along the path to the Griffith Observatory, and around the parking lot.
“If this guy is here to meet you, why is he running away from you?” Savannah asked.
That was a good point.
“Maybe he’s trying to trap me,” I mused, but I knew I was plain wrong. That dude in the hat probably wasn’t Kurt at all; let’s face it.
I turned around, and I saw a car pull up near us. A dark-blue sedan. The headlights were blinding me a little, but I didn’t need to see the driver to know who it was.
Agent Black got out on the passenger side, looking as mad as I’d ever seen him. Something was up.
Savannah asked, “That our guy?”
“No,” I said. “I mean—yes, he’s here for me.”
Savannah smiled. “We’re junior secret agents, right? Let’s have a plot twist in our story, and have us stand up against the enemy. He looks kind of old anyway. I can take him.” She cracked her knuckles.
“That’s a really bad idea—no!”
But before I could stop her, Savannah sprinted toward Albert Black. And I don’t know how she did it, but in one swift move, she pulled Black’s arm.
Yanked it behind his back like she was some TV police officer.
And smacked his face on the hood of the rental.
Then she looked up at me with a triumphant grin. “I got him!”
24
FRIDAY, 8:10 P.M.
AT THAT POINT, I TOTALLY EXPECTED Albert Black to turn green and explode like the Hulk. This was not a guy who ever got his face smashed against the hood of a car as if he were some bad dude, let alone by a kid.
So I rushed over. But Stark hopped out on the driver’s side and quickly pulled Savannah back.
“Hey, hey!” Stark yelled after Savannah tried to wrestle free. “We’re the good guys.”
“They are,” I said, out of breath from my quick sprint.
Savannah wasn’t buying it. “That’s what the bad guys always say!” But she stopped fighting when Stark flashed her badge.
“I’m Agent Stark. You need to stand down, Savannah.”
A crowd had gathered, watching this whole scuffle, unsure what to make of it.
Agent Black adjusted his shirt, looking eerily calm, like Mom does when she’s at the principal’s office after I get suspended. The blow-up would occur later, I knew from experience. But right then he told the crowd to take a hike. “Nothing to see here, people.”
Savannah held Stark’s badge. “Wait—you mean this is real?”
“I tried to tell you,” I mumbled.
Savannah returned the identification to Agent Stark, who tucked it back inside her jacket.
“Maybe you want to talk in the car,” Agent Stark said, giving me an urgent stare-down. A couple of the yellow-shirted tourists were giving us suspicious glances.
“I’m not getting in anyone’s car.” Savannah crossed her arms.
“You weren’t invited.” Agent Black got back in the car and slammed the door.
Stark said, “Just Linc here—and I’ll drive him home.”
“It’s fine,” I said. It was better if Savannah left, especially after she’d made Albert Black kiss the hood of this dirty rental car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Savannah looked concerned, but nodded. “If you’re sure.” She left, glancing over her shoulder before disappearing in the crowd.
With all the commotion, I only now remembered why I was here in the first place. I looked around for Kurt.
“Your suspect isn’t coming,” Stark said when she saw me scanning the parking lot. “Ben took the note you stuck on his trailer.”
“Seriously?”
“Ben may have been trying to pull one over on you, but by taking that note before Kurt could see it, he saved your cover.” Agent Stark leaned closer. “Kurt couldn’t have been in Italy at the time of one of the Melais thefts. He was in San Francisco on another set.”
“But I found a boarding pass to Frankfurt with his name on it!”
“Did you check the date?”
I flustered.
“Get in the car.” Stark opened the passenger door.
I got in, and was surprised to see a familiar face in the backseat. “Henry?”
25
FRIDAY, 8:15 P.M.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, HENRY?” I sat in the backseat and closed the door.
“We brought him along,” Stark said before Henry could speak. “After we caught him running some car plate for you, he told us you were meeting an Ethan Melais suspect.” She put the car in gear and drove away from Griffith Park.
“The plate just led to a rental company. And then Black told me to get back to the mission,” Henry said. “Sorry, dude.”
I shrugged.
“I had Henry here run a quick search on this Kurt,” Black said. He looked like he might be ready to do that Hulk explosion now. There was a smear of car dirt on his cheek, but I figured now might not be the time to point that out.
“You got
some kind of grime on your face,” Henry said next to me. Way to be helpful, dude.
Black wiped his right cheek with his sleeve.
“Other side, sir,” Stark said without even looking at him.
Henry snickered. “That Savannah is strong, huh? For being less than half your size.”
Black shot him a death-ray after wiping his face clean. “I’ve about had it with you junior agents!” he barked. “Brought you in to help with the case. That was your idea, wasn’t it, Stark?”
Agent Stark shook her head as she drove toward the interstate. “Not quite, sir. I believe I pointed out to you that bringing children on a black-ops mission was a very bad idea. There’s the danger, the complicated mission directives . . .”
“Yeah, yeah.” Albert Black faced forward, like he was trying to think. And calm down, hopefully.
“What Agent Black is trying to tell you kids,” Stark said while she passed a slow truck on the highway, “is that you need to be more organized. Use investigative procedure, create a suspect list.” Stark glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Like when you prepare for a test at school, maybe?”
I was about to remind her of my school record but realized that was probably not a good move, since I was in the doghouse already. I had to stay on this mission. For my family’s sake, and for the city of LA, I needed to do better.
Black turned around in his seat. He didn’t look angry anymore. Instead he looked . . .
Scared. And that worried me more than him exploding. “Stark and I are hustling to put the Dangerous Doubles in separate hiding places so Ethan Melais can’t get to them—but we’re up to our eyeballs here.” He pointed at me. “I’m counting on you kids, and you’re monkeying around.”
I swallowed.
“Where’s Ben?” Stark asked. Traffic was light for once, but she stayed in the slow lane.
“Drying out his junior secret agent training manual so he can follow procedure,” I mumbled.
“Well, at least one of you kids seems to be staying the course,” Black said as he wiped his forehead.
“I was on the case!” I argued.
“But you’re not doing any background checks or gathering evidence!” Black yelled. He pointed at Henry. “Use your resources.”
Stark stopped at a red light. She turned to Black. “I think he gets it.”
Black grumbled. “I hope so. Pandora is on the line here—all of the Dangerous Doubles are at risk. If those powers end up in the wrong hands . . .” He turned forward again.
“The light’s green,” Henry chimed in next to me.
Stark stepped on the gas.
We drove in silence the rest of the way. The longer we drove, the worse I felt.
Stark pulled over a block away from my aunt and uncle’s place. I waved good-bye to Henry and got out of the car. Stark just gave me a cool nod, and Black didn’t even look at me. This was worse than Mom’s silent treatment after I got a bad grade.
The night air felt good, so I took my time walking back to the Baker reunion. The conversation was still bouncing around inside my head. Black was right: I had to step it up if I wanted to be a junior secret agent. I had to prove to everyone that I could be more than just the troublemaker, more than the kid who ended up with appetizers on his pants.
I was determined to catch Ethan Melais.
And to expose the bad guy, I had to do something I never thought I would.
I had to be like Ben.
26
FRIDAY, 9:15 P.M.
I MADE IT TO MY AUNT AND UNCLE’S place at nine fifteen, exhausted and frustrated from my crazy day in Hollywood. I hoped the California breeze had blown the stink of failure off me before I faced the family. Even though they didn’t know it, I was flunking out as a junior secret agent. And it could cost the Bakers their lives.
The aunts and uncles were all in the backyard, sitting by the fire pit with their drinks. I waved hello and scrammed before they could ask me about the movie or want me to make s’mores or something. I needed time to think.
Which was a no-go, because Grandpa was waiting for me in the bedroom. He was watching some History Channel show on mobsters or something but turned off the set when I came in. And Grandpa never turns off the TV. Not even for dessert.
“How was your meeting?”
I sank down on my crummy foldaway bed, tossing my backpack in the corner. “Terrible. Worse than that.”
He nodded, like he knew exactly what I was talking about. “The Agency makes things complicated.” He was talking about the CIA, of course.
“No kidding.” I tried to lie down, but thought better of it when I felt the springs in my back. “What would you do if you were looking for someone, but they were . . . hiding?”
“In a hiding place or incognito?”
“Incog—what?”
“In disguise.”
“Definitely that one, in disguise. This dude called Ethan Melais is right under my nose, but I just can’t spot him.”
Grandpa scooted to the edge of his bed. “You need a system—a way to track your evidence. Record what you have on paper.”
“Procedures. Like a case file,” I said, remembering Albert Black’s scolding in the car earlier, and those blue folders with top secret stamps that Pandora kept.
“Exactly.”
“That sounds like a lot of hassle,” I complained. “Like homework.” And I really can’t stand homework.
Grandpa shrugged. “You want to catch this hoodlum or not?”
I thought of Ethan Melais and the Dangerous Double, and how if he made it into the conference and sold the drone-system prototype to those terrorists, I’d lose my car-loving family. “Yeah, I want to catch him.”
“Then you gotta do the work.” Grandpa flipped the pages of his notebook and handed it to me.
Procedures. Like in Ben’s junior secret agent manual. To beat him, I had to be like him. So I wrote down Ethan Melais. And male, skinny. But that was all I could come up with. I mean, the guy could be anybody, right?
I stared at that page until eventually I fell asleep. And I dreamed of the Hollywood Sign. The letters came to life and went running after me. I was at Griffith Park, and I tried to get away. But I was frozen.
27
PLACE: AN UNCOMFORTABLE FOLDAWAY BED
TIME: SATURDAY, 7:19 A.M.
STATUS: GRUMPY
I WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING FEELING kind of groggy and tired. That stupid dream had made it even worse. Hollywood was trying to kill me, even in my sleep—and Ethan Melais was doing a bang-up job in real life. I had less than fifty hours left until the drone-prototype reveal on Monday, and I was no closer to finding Melais or the Dangerous Double. So I wasn’t really feeling like getting up.
Of course Grandpa didn’t mind helping me there. Once he got out of the shower, he rudely pulled the covers off the bed.
“Hey, Grandpa!” I tried to tug at the corner of my blanket, but it was out of reach.
“Time to get up, kid.” Grandpa started making his bed, leaving me in a cloud of his cologne.
So I took a shower, letting the hot water jump-start my brain. As hard as it was to find Ethan Melais and the Dangerous Double, I only had to think of my family to remember why I was on the case.
Before I left, I grabbed my backpack. Including a notebook this time. I had no idea how I was going to create a case file, but I would get some help with that.
On my way out the door, I passed the freshly sanded Town Car. Aunt Linda would be airbrushing the body today, I knew from all the other car overhauls at Baker reunions. But unless Dad got the thing to start, it would just be a pretty lawn decoration.
Dad was hunched over the engine and didn’t even look up when I called, “Hey, Dad. Where’d everyone go?”
Dad groaned. “I probably scared them off.” That was very un-Dad-like. He’s the nicest guy you could ever meet.
“Uh-oh.” I adjusted my backpack and heard the compass ding against the rusty metal of the old Town Car.
“Can’t figure out why she won’t start.” Dad stepped back from the engine and took off his glasses. He wiped the lenses on his shirt.
I wanted to stick around and help, but I had to go. If I didn’t find this Melais and the Dangerous Double, my family wouldn’t be around to celebrate the next reunion. “Can’t anyone give you a hand?”
“The engine is my game, Linc, you know that. Maybe it’s the water pump,” Dad muttered. He put on his glasses and disappeared under the hood.
“Good luck with it, Dad. I gotta go,” I said.
“Wait,” he said, and looked up. “How long will you be gone for?”
“I put the call sheet on the fridge.” And I took off before he could ask any more questions.
Stark was waiting for me at the end of the block. “Morning,” she said once I got in. She waited for me to put on my seat belt before driving away. Her expression was grim as she sipped from a Styrofoam cup.
So I didn’t say anything. With adults, you have to know when to let them get their coffee fix.
“Do you have a plan?” Stark finally asked once we got onto the highway.
“I’m working on a profile.”
Stark lingered in the slow lane, seeming superstressed.
“I just need to narrow my suspect list. There are about a hundred dudes left on the set. . . .” I was beginning to depress myself.
“Henry is having the Melais business card checked for prints.” Stark gulped her coffee. “This case is a nightmare. Black and I have only secured half of the Dangerous Doubles, so we can’t help you kids. The weapon reveal is in two days. We’re running out of time!”
I didn’t know what to say to that. We drove in silence for a while, and I felt kind of nervous. What if we couldn’t complete this mission? What if Melais made it to the reveal on Monday and stole the drone? We had less than forty-eight hours left.
This was bad.
We’d arrived a block or so away from the Santa Monica Pier, and I unbuckled my seat belt.
The Alias Men Page 10
