Wearing her medal proudly, Cassandra wasted no time putting her new lab to use, and with Emmett’s aid, she quickly lined the barn’s shelves with a series of new prototype inventions. It was late May when she took her mechanical gravy press and her clockwork egg cracker into town to demonstrate them for the owner of the Buford’s Bend General Store. Molly went along for the ride, eager to see her mother finally have some commercial success as an inventor. Unfortunately, there was one way in which this new country life was far too similar to their old life in the city. The store owner scoffed at “Mrs. Salt” and her contraptions, saying that if he thought he could sell the bric-a-brac that resulted from a bored woman’s hobby, his own wife’s crocheted nose mittens would be gracing the front counter already.
Molly was worried her mother might slide back into her Sad Place. But Cassandra seemed surprisingly undaunted. “This is a new life; I’m going to have to try things a new way,” she announced when they returned home. Two weeks later, Captain Lee reluctantly went back into town under the guise of a Salt Farm employee. He took a basket of Cassandra’s motorized carrot peelers to the general store and presented them as the work of his employer—the reclusive Mr. Nathaniel Salt, who was “too busy inventing to ever leave his workshop.” After viewing one demonstration, the store owner agreed to put five peelers out for sale on a trial basis. When those five sold out in just two days, the man put in an order for fifty more.
It was Cassandra Pepper’s first sale. And while it irked Molly to no end that an imaginary man was getting credit for her work, she couldn’t deny that her mother looked more elated than she could ever remember. Her success inspired her to begin work on a far more ambitious project—a new flying machine.
With June came butterflies and woodpeckers, games of tag and nights under the stars. There were picnics, creek walks, and ghost stories at dusk. Captain Lee’s silliness became more endearing. His cringe-worthy humor began to look to Molly less like an awkward attempt to win over his son and more like the product of genuine joy. More than anything, it touched Molly’s heart to see the Lee men getting to know each other, not just as parent and child but as people. Emmett taught the captain how to repair a wobbly wagon wheel, and the captain took Emmett fishing (an activity Emmett participated in, even though he wilted at the sight of earthworms). The captain showed Emmett how to navigate by the night sky, and Emmett got the captain to read all one thousand pages of Les Misérables (a book that Captain Lee finished, even though there were hardly any boats in it).
In July, while Captain Lee tended tomatoes, eggplants, and summer squash in his garden, Molly and her friends redecorated the house they’d decorated only a few months earlier. And she announced her plans to re-redecorate before too long. “What fun is having a house if the furniture stays in the same place?” she told the adults. “Oh, and we’re repainting the porch too. I’m thinking magenta will be nice for summer.”
By August, it became clear that Orla fancied Emmett. Clear to everyone except Emmett, that is.
“Have you noticed how Orla always sits really close to me? It’s weird. How can she be chilly when it’s seventy-five degrees out?”
“Have you noticed how Orla sort of sings my name when she calls me? It’s weird. My name’s not hard to pronounce.”
“Have you noticed how Orla always asks me to hand her things she can easily reach herself? It’s weird.”
“You think he’s ever gonna figure it out?” Luddie asked Molly one day.
Molly looked over at Emmett and Orla reading The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde together under the big tree. “Wait a minute,” she heard Emmett suddenly say. “If you’ve already read this, why are we reading it again?”
“He may invent a rocket to the moon first,” Molly said.
As green leaves turned golden and crisp September air made barefoot walks less comfortable, Cassandra decided upon a name for her newest, greatest creation: the Daedalus Chariot. Her first flying machine, the Icarus Chariot, had been named for the boy in the ancient Greek myth, who, with his father, Daedalus, learned to fly on wax wings. In the story, though, Icarus flies too close to the sun, crashes, and burns, while his father follows the rules and has a smooth, successful flight. “I think it may have been a mistake to name my first flying machine after a disobedient child,” Cassandra announced. “This time, I’m going with the parent who knew better.”
Molly looked upon this sleeker, roomier, and supposedly faster vehicle with awe. Like its predecessor, the Daedalus Chariot had a large four-bladed propeller at the top of a tall mast in its center. But the similarities stopped there. The base of this flying machine was a repurposed sleigh (minus the horse). It had an open top, two cushioned benches, and a dashboard loaded with switches, levers, buttons, and lights. Rather than relying on pedal power, this new aircraft had a compact yet powerful combustion engine at its rear. The vehicle’s lustrous red sides were trimmed with glistening chrome piping, steel gauges, and other intriguing doodads. Molly didn’t know what half of them did, but she was eager to find out whenever she finally got a chance to zoom off in this work of art.
“The MOI would definitely approve, Mother,” she said. And that was when it hit her. She’d grown so comfortable, so complacent with this new life of fun and ease, that she’d failed to fulfill her promise to Nellie Bly and the Mothers of Invention. It had been months since she’d done anything to solve the mystery of their disappearances. How could she have forgotten those women? Molly was furious at herself.
She made a vow at dinner that night, in front of the whole family: from that day on, she was going to check the newspaper daily. And she was going into town at least once a week to do research in the library. And she didn’t care if anybody thought it was too risky, or if the librarian might get suspicious after a while. But nobody objected. Their new lives had given the rest of them renewed purpose—whether it was inventing or selling or teaching or gardening—but here Molly had been this entire time, relaxing and enjoying herself and simply living. All while their friends remained missing.
Molly held to her vow. She didn’t stop relaxing and enjoying herself and simply living, but she also made her weekly trips to the library. And she checked the paper daily.
That’s what she was doing on October 17 when she came across the article that brought her game of hide-and-seek to a sudden stop. Molly read it twice to make sure she wasn’t mistaken:
DC EXPECTS BIG CROWDS FOR EDISON CAMPAIGN EVENT
The article spoke of Thomas Edison’s incredibly popular run for the United States presidency and mentioned the preparations being made for a big rally in Washington, DC, later that week. But none of that was what terrified Molly. The horror lay in one sentence, buried deep in the second-to-last paragraph. “Due to Edison’s immense popularity, extra crowd control officers will be on hand: ‘I’ll be watching Mr. Edison myself,’ said the man in charge of event security, Federal Agent Archibald Forrest.”
But Federal Agent Archibald Forrest was dead. Molly had seen him die in Antarctica. She’d touched his cold blue corpse. Whoever gave that quote to the reporter was not Archibald Forrest. And Molly knew there was only one other person it could be, only one master of disguise who knew that Agent Forrest’s identity was up for grabs. Ambrose Rector was back. And he was planning something terrible in Washington, DC.
“Come on, Molly,” Luddie complained. “You’re it. It doesn’t read news; it chases people.” She and Orla swung impatiently from the porch rails. But Molly didn’t pull her eyes from the paper.
“Maybe we should just hide,” Orla suggested to her sister. “It’s not like she’s going to see us while she’s got her head in that paper. She can look for us when she’s done.”
“Nah, we could be hiding till Election Day if we wait for her,” Luddie said. “Hey, Pepper, stop looking for your old pals and start looking for your new ones! That Nellie of yours has been missing for a year now—she ain’t gonna mind being missed a few minutes longer! Orla and I, on
the other hand, are getting antsy-pantsy.” She hopped the railing and snatched the newspaper from Molly’s hands.
“Grrah!” Molly snapped at her like a starving dog protecting its food.
“Ooh, you’re gonna get it, Luddie,” Orla warned in a serious-yes-delighted tone. “No one comes between Molly Pepper and her news!”
Luddie stumbled backward into the porch railing. “Sorry, Molly,” she said, shoving the crumpled newsprint back into Molly’s hands. “It’s just, you know, not all of life’s problems can be solved by a newspaper.”
“Like the problem of playing hide-and-seek and having no it,” added Orla.
Molly took a deep breath and relaxed her tightly knotted shoulders. “Sorry,” she said earnestly. “It’s not you. I just saw something in the paper that set me off.”
“What was it?” Orla asked.
“You didn’t actually find Nellie, did you?” Luddie added. “’Cause then I’d feel like a total heel.”
Molly looked past them to the little blue barn, inside of which her mother and Emmett were putting finishing touches on the Daedalus Chariot. She glanced over her shoulder to the vibrant garden where Captain Lee stooped to pluck fresh carrots from the soil. They were happy. All of them. And they were together. One big, happy family. In spite of herself, she didn’t want that to end. It would feel almost cruel to tell the others about her discovery, to disrupt the happiness they’d all found with news that could mean everything was about to change. Even Robot was happy.
“Hello, Molly and Luddie and Orla,” Robot said as he tromped along the grass with the girls’ dog yipping at his boxy feet. “I have been found as well. Dr. Stinkums is very good at this game. Every time, I stand behind the tree. And every time, he finds me. Quite impressive. Shall we play another round? I will go hide behind the tree.”
“Sorry, Sir Robot, but I don’t think we’re playing anymore,” said Orla.
“How many times do they have to tell you?” said Luddie. “He’s not a knight.”
“I don’t care—he’s wearing armor,” Orla insisted.
“Technically,” said Robot, “I am wearing nothing.”
“Anyways, Robot, I think we might be done,” said Luddie. “Molly saw something in the paper that’s ruined her day.”
“Oh, bother beans,” said Robot. “What did you see, Molly? Was it a bumblebee that flies into your head and then buzzes around in there for hours because it cannot find its way out? I have had many days ruined by one of those.”
“No, Robot, but I’m afraid the game is over,” Molly said.
Orla shrugged. “That’s okay, I’ll just go hang out in the barn. Oh, Emmmmett,” she sang as she began skipping off.
“Actually,” Molly called out, “can you girls go home for a while? I need to talk to my family about something important.”
“Sending us back to the Crustacean house, huh?” Luddie said, looking at her askance. “Well, if that’s the way it’s gonna be . . .” She threw her arm around Orla’s shoulders and led her sister back into the wooded scrubland between the two properties.
Molly felt bad about sending her friends away, but she saw no way around it. She knew what she had to do. “Robot, can you go get Captain Lee and meet us in the barn with Emmett and my mother?”
A few minutes later, they were all gathered around the shiny red flying machine.
“What’s going on, Molls?” Cassandra asked with concern. “Did something happen?”
Molly was sure her mother could read the worry in her face.
“I found something,” Molly said, folding the newspaper open so everyone could see the article in question. “And it’s not good.”
Part II
13
Everything Changes
Buford’s Bend, Ohio, October 17, 1884
EMMETT PLOPPED ONTO an overturned bucket and ran his fingers through his hair the way he did whenever he was feeling overwhelmed. Cassandra began pacing in tight circles, wordlessly tugging at her “World’s Greatest Inventor” medallion. Robot stood and stared blankly, save for the occasional twitch of his metal mustache. It was Captain Lee who finally broke the silence. “Well, we don’t know for certain that it’s Rector,” he said unconvincingly.
“Who else would pretend to be Archibald Forrest?” Molly said.
“Maybe no one’s pretending!” Cassandra said, her eyes alight with hope. “Maybe Agent Forrest is alive.”
Emmett shook his head. “We all saw him fall into a hundred-foot gorge.”
“I didn’t,” Captain Lee said with gusto, as if he’d hit upon some loophole in Emmett’s argument. “And none of us saw him land, did we?”
“No, but I did dangle from his frozen corpse down in that cavern,” Molly huffed. “You were there for that part, Cap!”
The captain harrumphed. “I had just been hit on the head. Who knows what I really saw or didn’t see? In fact, are we even in Ohio right now? Maybe everything since that moment has been a hallucination. That would be more believable than some of the things we’ve been through.”
“I saw Agent Archie in the cave,” Robot said. “He definitely looked bluer than most living people. Not to mention that he was bent with one leg over his—”
“Okay, so our Forrest is dead,” Cassandra interjected. “Maybe this is simply a different Forrest. It’s a common surname. And that first name: Archie? How many Archies do we know, Molls? Sixteen? Seventeen? The man in that article is surely just a second Archibald Forrest. Who also happens to be a United States federal agent. With connections to the Inventors’ Guild. Yeah . . . you’re right, it’s Rector.”
The others all nodded, even if they did so with visible regret.
“Great, we all accept that Rector is back,” Molly said. “So, what’s our plan? What do we do?”
“We are not doing anything.” Captain Lee scoffed.
“Rector is a dangerous criminal!” Molly exclaimed.
“Exactly!” said the captain. “Which is why we leave him to the authorities!”
Molly huffed. “Even if the Feds figure out that Rector is impersonating Forrest—which is already a stretch—who’s to say they can actually stop him?” Molly said. “They don’t have a great record in that department. But you know who has thwarted Rector’s schemes multiple times? Here’s a hint: their names rhyme with ours. Come on, Mother—you know I’m right.”
Cassandra bit her lower lip.
“Oh, Mother. You’re not seriously considering sitting it out while Ambrose Rector freezes the White House or turns the Supreme Court into jelly or whatever new madness he’s planning?”
“Of course not,” Cassandra said. “Except . . . Yes, I am.”
“I can’t believe you, Mother! I didn’t give you that medal for sitting in the wings and letting other people save the day!”
“No, you gave it to me for being an inventor!” Cassandra replied. “It says ‘World’s Greatest Inventor,’ not ‘World’s Greatest Rector-Stopper!’ Look, I know we’ve gone up against the man before, but we’ve never really been given a choice in that.” Her tone became soft, almost apologetic. “With the World’s Fair, stopping Rector fell to us because no one believed us. And in Antarctica, we were literally the only ones there to stop him. But here? Now? The job doesn’t need to fall to us every time Rector shows his waxy face.”
Molly’s jaw dropped. She and her mother had their differences from time to time, but never about something this important.
“Your mother is right. This is the whole reason we have police, you know,” Captain Lee said. “Ask anyone—ask your little friends from down the road: Who chases criminals? Will they say inventors? Sea captains? Schoolchildren? No, they will say police.”
“Orla might say dragons,” added Robot. “She is very imaginative.”
“We have so much more to lose now,” Cassandra continued. “This house, this town, this life—they provide so much promise, so many possibilities. Here, I feel like we finally have a future.”
&nbs
p; Molly narrowed her eyes. “Look, this life is nice. It’s certainly a heck of a lot less stressful than before,” she said. “But do you honestly think you have a future here? You talk as if we’re living our dreams, but we’re all just playacting. None of us are doing what we really want to be doing. For someone who wants to be called Captain, you couldn’t be farther from an ocean. And, yes, Mother, you’re inventing, but no one outside this barn will ever know that! That’s not gonna get you into the Guild.”
Cassandra shook her head. “Oh, Molls, nothing is going to get me into the Guild! Just accept that they’re never going to admit me. Or any woman. They’ve got a good thing going—why would they ever change it?”
“We’ll make them change!” Molly said. “Let’s show them up! Let’s—let’s do the one thing they’ve never been able to do: catch Rector!”
The captain sighed. “I admire your passion, but—”
“Molly Pepper,” her mother said, suddenly stern. “Is this another of your get-famous-quick schemes? Are you still bent on getting the Pepper name into history books, come what may? Because after all we’ve been through—”
“Of course it’s not about getting famous, Mother!” Molly shouted. Becoming famous heroes would mean they had no more reason to hide, and that would mean breaking up her little family, the Peppers and Lees moving on to live their own separate lives. But she wasn’t about to remind anybody of that point. “I would’ve hoped you’d think better of me than that.”
Captain Lee turned to his son. “You’ve been quiet through all of this, Emmett,” he said. “You don’t want to get embroiled in this new Rector business, do you?”
Emmett locked eyes with Molly and she instantly felt reassured. “I don’t think it’s about what I want,” Emmett said, turning back to his father. “It’s about what we need to do. Rector is dangerous, and if we’re the only ones who know he’s back, at the very least we need to warn people. Even if doing so puts us at risk.”
The Final Gambit Page 11
