Chapter 15
Tinker Bell Flies Again.
MY LAST ENCOUNTER WITH TINKER Bell was just outside of San Francisco, after being snatched by one of her kite-surfing henchmen and whisked across the bay at speeds that made me very nervous. We didn’t have the pleasure of meeting face-to-face that time because I escaped, but her high-pitched, squeaky, whiny cartoon voice is unmistakable.
“Is that what you call me?” she asks, gleeful. “Tinker Bell? Oh, I love her! Sassy little thing giving Peter Pan fits.”
I wiggle around in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position with my hands bound behind my back. No way. Impossible. I hitch forward so my face is near my knees, and this offers some relief but lacks dignity.
“What do you want?” I grumble. Tinker Bell is the Ghost’s competitor. She has been trying to out-bad him for years and apparently is doing a commendable job. Her network of evil doesn’t quite match the Ghost’s, but she sure is trying. In San Francisco, she wanted to use me for the same reason the Center did: to lure out my mother and finally be able to put a face to her rival. Knowledge is power, even if it is for unsavory purposes.
“I want to know what you’re doing here,” Tinker Bell says.
“I’m here because you dragged me off the sidewalk,” I snap.
“Everyone is so touchy in this heat. You know what I mean. Confess.”
“Or what?”
“You won’t like it if I tell you.”
“Really?”
“Somehow I knew you’d be difficult,” she says. “Okay, I’ll go first. A few months ago, the Briar headmaster reached out to my people. He wanted to guarantee his teams would win this competition everyone is so irrationally worked up over. I told him I only deal with professionals and he should crawl back under his rock. But then I got curious. And I had him tailed. Turns out my favorite competitor took him up on his offer. You know who I’m talking about, right? Well, that made me so curious I thought my head might explode. Because I really want to find him. Just so we can chat. Anyway, we’re following the headmaster and then, boom, there you are. I don’t believe in coincidences. Talk.”
“How about you take off my handcuffs first?” I ask.
Tinker Bell snorts. “Nice try, kid. No way.”
But she does rip off my blindfold. Up close, she’s about Jennifer’s age, with a thick layer of pancake makeup settling into the fine lines around her mouth and along her forehead. Her lipstick bleeds a little around the edges. She doesn’t remove her sunglasses, so I can’t see what she’s thinking.
The gold smartphone is tucked in the waistband of my shorts. My hands are tied, but Toby’s devices always include voice activation. With my original spy phone, I had to yell, Toby is cool! to get it to work. But I have no idea what the words are for this one. And the spy phone doesn’t help me if I can’t use it. I need a plan. I can jump out of the moving car. Not a great idea. I can scream. Pointless. I can beg. Yeah, right. Clearly, I need to kill time while I come up with a better plan.
“Okay,” I say finally. “Baldy went to the museum to meet some guy. He was supposed to hand over information, but he didn’t have it. Threats were made.”
“Baldy?” Tinker asks, confused.
“The headmaster,” I reply.
“Do you have nicknames for everyone?”
“How else am I supposed to keep them straight in my head?” I ask.
“Maybe use their real names?” Tinker suggests.
“Why would I do that?”
Tinker removes her glasses and rubs the bridge of her nose. “Kids. Honestly.” She puts the glasses back on with an exaggerated sigh. “How do you know what Baldy and the man in the suit talked about?”
“I spied on them.” Duh.
“Details.”
I find it curious she does not ask me why I was following Baldy. She’s not interested in backstory or motivation. She just wants the dirt.
“That’s all I’ve got,” I say. We’ve left the urban landscape behind and drive through a lush tunnel of trees at a speed that might result in us getting arrested. Which would be a good thing, but I can’t rely on it.
“Who was the man?” Tinker asks.
I shrug. “Don’t know.”
“Nickname?”
“Scarf.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I like to be consistent.”
“You’re not very helpful.”
“That’s what my mom says.” Jennifer also says that if a person relies on GPS all the time, the part of her brain needed for navigation won’t develop. So guess what? I have a great sense of direction. And we are not headed for Briar Academy. We’re headed west.
I have to get out of this car.
Chapter 16
Act Casual. Don’t Panic.
JENNIFER ALSO SAYS scared people make stupid mistakes. Therefore, stay calm even if all signs indicate panicking would be appropriate.
“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to sound unconcerned.
“Just a little ride,” Tinker Bell says. “I want to make sure you’re being straight with me, telling me everything you know.”
“I am!” Except for the parts I’m not.
“We’ll see soon enough.” Yeah. I really have to get out of this car. Jumping is back on the table as an option. Twisting my torso so my hands are wedged against the car door, I try the handle. It’s locked, and there is no mechanism to unlock it. Why do the bad guys always have escape-proof cars?
Desperate, I decide on the snarling dog app. It seems the least likely to kill me as a snarling dog can’t really materialize from a phone, can it? Boy, I hope not. Now to figure out how to make it work. Start with the basics.
“Dog!” I yell.
Tinker Bell must have dozed off, because she starts awake and glares at me over the tops of her sunglasses. Her hazel eyes are sharp and outlined with black liner. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I burped. Excuse me.”
She glares at me for a moment before settling back in to nap. I let a few more minutes pass until her jaw goes slack with sleep. Maybe Toby reused his original password. I could see him thinking that’s hilarious. Only one way to find out. “Toby is cool!” I shout.
Nothing! But Tinker jolts awake and grabs my thigh, digging in with the red talons. “Stop. Doing. That,” she hisses.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, knowing full well I can’t stop. Every minute I wait, I’m closer to whatever torture they have planned for me. I watch some more scenery go by. The trees wilt in the heat, drooping toward the earth as if broken-hearted. Oh, wait a minute. Broken hearts. Toby pines for Veronica, still nursing his unrequited crush. It’s worth a try.
“Veronica!” I yell. “Dog!” The phone erupts in furious growling, barking, and snarling. It’s so realistic the driver immediately panics. The phone grows hot against my skin, but without my hands there is nothing I can do but take it. Tinker Bell is fully awake, screaming, but I can’t hear her above the din. The driver, trying to cover his ears and drive with his knees, swerves perilously close to the heartbroken trees. Before Tinker can get her claws on me, I scramble from the backseat and tumble into place beside the driver.
“Hey!” He swings at me with one hand. I lean out of the way. The dog noise continues to emanate from the phone. It’s chaos inside the SUV. From behind, Tinker Bell grabs my hair. I twist and turn to get away, my scalp howling in protest. My fingers are on the door handle. I pull it several times to release the lock, and it springs open, so I half hang out of the moving car. The driver gets ahold of my foot. I kick hard, but he tightens his grip. It’s too bad. I really like these shoes. I curl my toes, and the sneaker flies off. I tumble backward out the open door.
Veronica speaks to me in my head. Tuck and roll! Protect your brain! Protect your neck! In the split second before I hit the pavement, I curl into a tight ball, landing with a thud on the soft dirt shoulder.
The dirt is better than pavement, but it still hurts. A lo
t. Up ahead, the SUV tilts on two wheels, banking a U-turn. They are not giving up. I still can’t get to the phone with my hands cuffed behind me, and it takes yelling, “Veronica! Off!” three times before it stops growling. I need to disappear in these woods, and traveling with a pack of angry dogs will not help.
Charging headlong into the trees, I squeak with pain every other step as the sticks and rocks poke through my sock into my foot. Sweat pours down my face. Leaves on the forest floor swirl as I run, my balance thrown off by my bound arms. In the distance, a door slams, and I hear Tinker Bell yelling at the driver to hurry up and find me.
I stumble down a small incline and land on my knees in a stream. It’s unlikely the driver guy has finely honed tracking skills, but I decide to hedge my bets and stay in the water. The rocks are slippery, and I take at least one header before a hairpin turn puts me out of sight. I climb out and tuck in behind a clump of young trees. Driver guy isn’t visible, but I hear him stumbling around in the woods, cursing my existence. And Tinker Bell’s, too.
After a while, he quits. The SUV starts up with a roar, and with squealing tires, they take off. I crawl out of my hiding place, soaked and muddy with twigs in my hair and burrs stuck to my socks. Veronica is back in my head as I try one of her tricks to get free of the handcuffs. Tucking my legs to my chest, I maneuver my arms under my feet. If I were a rubber band, this would be easy. However, I’m a girl. “Uncomfortable” is not the word for it.
“Stop complaining,” says Veronica, in my head. “You can’t go through life with your hands tied behind your back.”
“I know that,” I say, grunting with the effort.
“Get it done,” she says. “You can whine later.”
“I’m not whining,” I growl. “I’m screaming in agony. There is a difference.”
Thankfully, she has nothing to say about that. My shoulders ache and throb. With a final push, I loop my body through my arms, and just like that, my hands are in front of me. I examine the zip-tie cuffs, made from thick hard plastic. At least they aren’t metal.
A sharp rock in the stream will do the trick. I set to scraping the cuffs along the rock’s edge, back and forth, fast and hard, until the smell of burning plastic fills the air.
It takes forever. Gnats swirl around my sweaty head. Mosquitoes buzz my ears. Finally, with a quick snap, I yank the cuffs apart, leaving me with two unfashionable plastic bracelets. I can live with that.
I take stock. I’m down a shoe, my wrists are red and raw, and it’s going to take a month of grooming to get the debris out of my hair. Toby’s gold spy phone has left a nasty red rectangle on my skin, and, to make matters worse, the screen is cracked.
“Great!” I yell into the empty woods. “Just great.”
I tap the fractured face a few times, but the battery is dead. Trudging through the underbrush, I eventually hit the road and head back in the direction from which we came.
Walking along the shoulder, I count the passing cars. Zero. My lone shoe leaks water. Every twenty steps, I check the phone again to see if it somehow has magically recharged. It hasn’t. Finally, a dented red Honda happens around the bend, fishtailing to a dusty halt before me. An arm extends out the window and waves me on.
“Hurry up!”
This is the moment I have to decide whether to flee back into the words or creep close enough to see who is in the driver’s seat. My feet hurt, so I take a chance on this being a simple act of kindness and not another abduction. Behind the wheel is a young woman, probably Veronica’s age. Her brown hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head. A blast of deliciously cold air hits me as she rolls down the window.
“Hi,” I say tentatively, peering inside. She wears cutoff jeans and a Yale T-shirt and doesn’t look particularly threatening.
“Well, you’re a hot mess,” she says, giving me the once-over. “What happened?”
“I got in a fight with my best friend,” I lie, “and, well, she kind of kicked me out of the car, and . . .”
My new friend holds up her hand. “Ugh. Best friends. I hear you. Where are you headed?”
When I tell her, she grins. “I’m headed that way! Aren’t you lucky?”
Honestly, I would say my relationship with luck is on the fritz. We might even have broken up.
Chapter 17
Minimission Madness.
MY FRIENDS AMBUSH the red Honda before it even clears the gates. They drag me from the car, barely giving me time to thank my rescuer.
“What happened?” Charlotte demands. “Who was that? What’s going on?”
Izumi pulls me into an uncharacteristic hug, squeezing the air right out of my lungs. “The car service couldn’t find you,” she whispers. “We thought you were dead.”
I hug her back. “I’m sorry. The phone died. I used the snarling dog.”
Toby eyes me. “And?”
“I was kidnapped,” I say.
“I meant snarling dog. How did it work?”
“Oh. Worked great.” Toby grins. He loves real-world verification that his crazy apps work, even if getting such information requires perilous situations for others.
“I’m glad,” he says. “Now give it back.” He holds out his hand for the gold phone.
I pull it from my shorts. “Here’s the thing,” I say. “I broke it.”
“Already?” he yells. “Abby!”
“I was being chased.”
“You are always being chased!” He’s very loud. People are staring. But he’s right. It happens a lot. I’m not proud.
“Details, please,” Izumi says, arms crossed defensively against her chest. But there are too many people here. And, possibly, butterflies.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say. “I can fill you in and we can call Jennifer.”
We cut through the administrative building and head down to the lake, where things are quiet. The old rowboat we choose wobbles and tilts, threatening to dump us in the green water. It takes a few minutes to get our rowing rhythm down. Only when we are out in the middle do I feel like it’s safe to talk.
“We know Baldy and Jane Ann are trading Team OP secrets to the Ghost for future Challenge victories,” I begin. “We don’t know what those secrets are, but we know they haven’t gotten them yet.”
“What could Poppy have come up with that has everyone freaking out?” Toby wonders. “And how did the Ghost get wind of it?”
“Wait. There’s more. Tinker Bell is watching Baldy, hoping he’ll lead her to the Ghost. When I showed up, she grabbed me.”
“Tinker Bell?” Izumi asks, indignant.
“I know!”
“Are all the bad people from our past going to come back to haunt us?” Charlotte inquires.
“I really hope not,” Toby says.
Bobbing quietly on the water, we think about the stakes. Just yesterday it was Jane Ann cheating. Today, it’s something much more. But what exactly? Toby hands me the cracked phone, Jennifer’s number already dialed.
“If you drop it in the lake,” he says, “there is no telling what I will do to you.”
“Hello? Hello?” It sounds like a hurricane. I can barely hear Jennifer’s voice.
“Mom?”
“Abby? I’m in the middle of a hurricane.” Of course, she is. “And this boat! Do not get me started. Who sets out on an ocean voyage without enough coffee?” Uh-oh. Those pirates are going to rue the day they denied Jennifer Hunter her morning coffee. “But enough about that. What’s going on? Oh, boy. Hold on.” In the background, I hear violent barfing. “Jasper! Cut that out! We have work to do! No time for seasickness! Abby? Can you believe I’m stuck with a first mate who suffers from motion sickness? Ridiculous!”
Toby’s eyes glisten. “Is she really the captain of a pirate ship?” he whispers. I’ve learned it’s best not to underestimate Jennifer Hunter. There’s a mess of static interrupted by the sound of my mother in a high state of annoyance.
“No!” she yells. “I said raise the anchor, you idiot
! Abby? Please remind me never to work with pirates again. They have not demonstrated the capacity to learn. Now, tell me how it goes with the water theme. Not that I especially want to talk about water. All I can see is water.”
I quickly tell her the story, starting with the butterflies and ending with the museum. I leave out the bit about Tinker Bell because that will take too much time to explain. If Jennifer is shocked by my story, she does not show it.
“Interesting,” she muses. “I guess I’d better get back there and deal with this ASAP.”
These are the best words I have ever heard. But before I can tell her, there’s a crash in the background followed by Jennifer cursing like a pirate. She’s got it down perfectly.
“Where was I?” she continues. “Oh, yes. Coming to Briar. Let’s see. Right now, I’m in the middle of the ocean, more or less. It might take me a few days to get to Hartford. So how shall we manage this? How about you and your friends keep tabs on Poppy in the meantime? And keep it quiet. I don’t need a panicky teen on my hands. Just make sure she doesn’t disappear suddenly.” This makes my throat dry. “Let’s consider it a minimission for the Center, but between us. If Mrs. Smith finds out, well, she’s a bit overzealous where the Challenge is concerned, and she’s likely to blow in there, guns blazing, and we’ll miss an opportunity to see what our friend the Ghost is up to. What do you say?”
A minimission? For the Center? She can do that? I fist-pump the air a bunch of times and almost overturn our boat. “We say yes!”
“We do?” asks Toby. “To what?” I wave him off so I can hear Jennifer.
“Just don’t do anything crazy,” she says. “Keep your eyes open. Watch Poppy. Wait for me.”
I agree, wish her luck with the pirates, and hang up. My friends eyeball me.
“We have a mission!” I shout.
And then I really do flip the boat over.
Chapter 18
Do More. Do Better.
IZUMI IS THE FIRST ONE to suggest that sitting around watching Poppy is not the best use of our skills. We have an afternoon and a night before the next Challenge task. Shouldn’t we use it to, I don’t know, find out what is so awesome about Poppy’s ideas that an international, notorious, really bad bad guy is after them?
Double Cross Page 7
