Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula (29 page)

“Keep your voice down,” he warned, glancing at the hall entrance.

“Why don’t you want to stop Ben?” I asked between my teeth.

“Calm down and listen…We’re not stopping him, because we’re going to help him. You are going with him. Ben will have to drive to this meeting. Before he leaves, you’ll sneak into his car. When he meets with the kidnappers, you’ll overtake and detain them. They won’t have your dad with them, but we’ll get them to talk.”

“So, I’m going alone,” I verified with uncertainty.

“We can’t both leave this early in the evening. Our absence would be discovered quickly and we would lose any advantage we had. You’re the obvious person to go with Ben, and I’m the obvious person to stay here where I can cover for you and work on accessing those files, and I
must
access those files.” He gave me a level, discerning look. “Don’t lose the fire when you need it most.”

In other words: Don’t be a
bawk, bawk, bawk
.

Emery sure knows how to deliver a punch
, I thought, feeling this one between the eyes. I understood his challenge, which was: When push comes to shove, will you choose to rise up or crawl away, Cassidy?
Rise up, of course
, I almost said out loud. This was Ben we were talking about, and I would be willing to fight anyone to save him. I just didn’t know if I could. “Are you sure I can do this? I only imprinted a handful of matches.”

Emery’s expression was unwaveringly confident. “Fighting for you will be mostly instinctive. The matches were only to teach you different forms. I’ve witnessed your capabilities. You’re a powerful force, maybe an unstoppable one. This man will literally not know what hit him—or them.”

Them?

A really good question came to mind. “What if he—or
they
—have guns?”

“They will. That’s why you need to take them by surprise. I have no doubt that with your speed, you can unarm them quickly. You’ll have to incapacitate them, too,” Emery said casually. “Of course, our complication will be the lack of communication between the two of us, since you don’t have a cell phone. Ben does, though. You could take his…but then, my number could be traced. You’ll need to find a pay phone. When you call with your location, I’ll figure out a way to meet up with you.”

“Too much to think about,” I said, close to hyperventilating. “I’ll cross that bridge  when I get to it.” Taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart, I added, “I hope there will be a bridge to cross.”

“Cassidy, you are
not
to think like that.” Emery’s black eyes bored into mine. The intensity made breathing even more difficult. “Apprehension is normal, but you can’t let it get the best of you. You’re right, there is no way to anticipate what will happen, but you will cross bridges when you get to them. This will be successful. We will
find our parents. Know that you are exceptional, and stay focused on the mission.”

The way he held himself, and the commanding way he spoke, made me think of a war general rallying his troops. The pep talk worked. Air entered my lungs again. “All right, the mission,” I agreed with a nod. “I’ll cross bridges and call you after I knock the kidnappers out cold.” Placing my index finger on my lips, I pondered a moment. “Huh, I better bring a rope.”

Emery smiled. “I have a better way for you to bind hands, if that’s what the rope is for…Now, do you have black clothing?”

“No, nothing black.”

“I didn’t think so, but I have it covered, anyway.”

How would he know if I had black clothing or not?
I wondered, eyeing his face, which told me nothing. “What
do you have covered?”

Ignoring my question, Emery said with a new urgency in his voice, “We don’t have much time. It’s eight minutes after seven. We don’t know where Ben has to meet the kidnappers, so we don’t know when he’ll leave here. What I need you to do now is to go to the living room and tell your mom you’re exhausted and want to turn in early. Don’t overplay it. We don’t want her to worry and check up on you—”

“Ben,” I warned, listening to him clomp down the hall. Until now, he had been in Dad’s office, probably devising a plan of his own.

Forehead creased, Ben walked into the family room. “Where are the boys?” he asked, attempting a smile.

Feeling worry roll off him in waves made my heart ache.
You’ll be all right, Ben. I’ll
have your back
, I reassured him silently. Aloud, I replied, “In the kitchen. Detective Conlin ordered pizza. You should go get some before those big police officers devour it all.”

Inhaling deeply, he glanced at the wall clock. “Yeah, pizza sounds good.” He looked at us. “You two coming?”

“When I finish my emails,” Emery replied, tapping away at his laptop.

I stood up. “Maybe later. Right now, I need to talk to Mom.”

“She’s in the living room with the detectives,” Ben said distractedly, walking to the kitchen entrance through the family room.

See you soon, Ben
, I sent him as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Closing the laptop, Emery pointed up. Giving him a thumbs-up, I scooted off to the living room.

 

~~~

 

Mom was encouraging about my decision to turn in early. I presented it as a way for me to escape the stress. She certainly understood this. Before I tromped upstairs, she said, her sad eyes brightening, “Hopefully when you wake up, your dad will be here.”

“I have a good feeling he will,” I replied, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at the detectives.

When Emery had pointed up, I assumed he was telling me to meet him in my bedroom. My assumption was correct.

As I cracked open the door, he impatiently pulled me in, closing the door behind me.

He handed me Nate’s black pullover sweatshirt. “Put this on. It’ll be cold tonight.”

The smell almost gagged me. “No way. I’ll wear mine.”

“You said you didn’t own black. Now, put it on. There isn’t much time.”

Okay, the mission
, I reminded myself, holding my breath. After I tugged the sweatshirt over my head, Emery handed me a wad of black polyester.

I laughed. “You’ve
got
to be joking.”

His face was serious and determined. “We don’t have time to joke. If Ben leaves without you, he probably won’t survive the meeting.”

With my heart in my throat, I quickly pulled on the ninja robe and tugged the pants over my jeans. The costume was tight but doable.

“I guess it was lucky Chazz dug this out today,” I commented, tying the black belt.

Emery ripped the bandage off my forehead.

“Ow! What’s the big—” Jerking my head up, I saw his middle and index fingers covered in purple goo, moving toward my face. “Purple? Why?”

The paint was cool against my cheek. “It’s the darkest color Chazz has left in his face paints,” Emery explained, scooping out more.

“Of course it is. What superhero would humiliate himself by wearing purple?”

Emery grinned, smearing my forehead. “I guess you’ll be the first.”

“Funny.”

His eyes narrowed on my face. “Now, hold still. I have to get around your eyes well. This is the part they’ll see around the hood’s eye opening.”

“Purple,” I muttered, looking up. “Good thing I’ll have a hood on. With the hood, why bother with the paint, anyway?”

His fingers moved above my eyes. “In case the hood comes off. We don’t want anyone to be able to identify you. I’ll safety-pin it to the robe, as well.”

I sighed. “You think of everything.”

“There.” He smiled at me. “Do you want to take a look?”

“Definitely not. Where’s the hood?”

“First.” He pulled the black hair band from his monogrammed shirt pocket. “Do that, you know, twisting thing with your hair.”

“Braid?” I asked, grinning as I gathered my hair. “You graduated from college and you don’t know that this is called a braid?” I clucked my tongue as my fingers quickly braided.

He handed me the hair band. “Well, I know now.”

Looping the band around the end of the braid, I tossed the braid behind my back. “Is this supposed to be my queue?”

“No.” He grabbed the braid and pulled the robe’s collar from my neck. “I don’t want anyone to see your hair or use it against you,” he explained, dropping the braid down the robe.

I cringed at the thought. “Yeah, I don’t either.”

Emery smiled, bending to the floor behind me. Straightening back up, he handed me my old sneakers. “And you said you didn’t own black.”

Grimacing, I picked them up by the laces. “I tried to forget about these. The last time I wore them I stepped in horse manure. Sorry.” I glanced at his hands.

“So you threw them to the back of your closet,” he commented, unfastening the safety pins.

Tugging the shoes on, I asked, “Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t snoop in my closet, would you?”

“No, I value my health too much,” he teased, handing me the hood.

After I pulled it on, he quickly pinned it to the robe. From his shirt pocket, he produced a folded piece of paper and a few quarters. “My cell phone number and change for a phone. Put these in the front pocket of your jeans.”

After I tucked away the paper and change, Emery pulled out four plastic disposable handcuffs. “Hand restraints.”

“Bag of tricks?” I asked, taking the handcuffs.

“Mickey’s very thorough.”

“He isn’t the only one.” I regarded him, stuffing the cuffs into my back pockets. “How’d you get this together so fast?”

Walking to the window, Emery explained, “I had already collected the costume and face paint when I came up earlier for my laptop.”

“You were gone, like, two minutes.” My eyes narrowed on his face questioningly. “Are you sure I’m the only mutant here?”

“If you weren’t, I’d be tempted to leap out there with you.” He smiled and opened the window.

 

 

Nineteen

 

I Am Not An Animal

 

 

True to form, trusting Ben had left his Explorer’s doors unlocked. He’d even left the windows partially rolled down. Crouching, I climbed into the passenger seat and curled up to wait until the vehicle’s cab light went out. This was when things got dicey.

The cab light was still on when I heard the front door open. Ben and the police officer were talking. Luckily, Ben’s head was apparently turned away from the street, because he didn’t give any indication of noticing the light. Though sweating bullets, I couldn’t help but laugh when Ben told the officer he’d be back after he “fed his cats.”

As the light went out, I peeked up. Ben was closing the front door. In a panic, I dove over the backseat, landing in a pile of fast food wrappers and paper cups. In the gaggy odor, I recognized Deluxe remnants. Holding my breath, I rolled into the back of the Explorer and landed hard on Ben’s surfboard. I quickly pulled damp towels that smelled like salt over me. At least the salt smothered the stench from the backseat.

My heart pounded as the cab door opened. It was so loud that I was nervous Ben would hear it. When the engine turned, Foo Fighters blasted in my ears. Thankfully, he had good taste in music.

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