Rhythm & Clues: A Young Adult Novel (5 page)

Something glints on the floor and catches my eye in the center of the room. Gavin’s digital MP3 recorder.

My stomach lurches. I’ve never seen him without this.

When I lift the mp3 player from the ground, my hand discovers a pink post-it note resting underneath it.

“Sorry about the barricades. Can’t risk anyone finding these clues instead of you two. Keep safe. I’ll try to do the same. If something bad happens to me, don’t forget what led you here.”

I shiver. Leaving behind clues took a lot of effort. Why couldn’t he just tell me this stuff? Wouldn’t it have been easier and safer? So many questions, but even more left to be asked.

I press play on the mp3 player. The echo of feet stomping inside the warehouse startles me. At first I think it’s the player, but when I pause it, the feet don’t stop.

“Moxie! Where are you?” Sabrina calls from someplace close.

Before I can answer, she walks through the open doorway from the stairwell.

“I figured out what he meant by
Backyard Rebels.”
She catches her breath. “
Backyard
is in the back, right? So I circled around the building and found the board at the back entrance loose.”

“Oh.” I stare at her beaming smile, then at the window I’d risked my life to climb. “Good one.”

“I bet he knew you wouldn’t figure that out on your own.”

A furious scream builds in my chest at her words. After the insult, I hate to admit it’s true, but Gavin’s more important than my own pride. “Also, you’re right about the stuff in the box leading to clues. I found this.” I show her the mp3 player and the note.

We each put in an earbud. The player clicks on. Static fills my ear for a few seconds before the low hiss of a singing voice takes over. My voice and Gavin’s backup ballad blasts into our ears. The song I sang the day I first met him in this warehouse. I had no idea he recorded me. Had no idea he saved it.

“Who is this?” Sabrina asks, turning the volume louder. “It’s awesome.”

I smile at her. Would she have complimented me if she knew it was my voice? “It’s me. The day I met Gavin.”

Her face falls. “What does this have to do with where he is?”

I shake my head. “No idea.”

About halfway through the track, a new found sound enters the mix. It sounds like banging.

“That banging noise definitely wasn’t there when I first recorded this,” I tell Sabrina.

The banging changes to drilling. Sabrina closes her eyes, concentrating. “It reminds me of the annoying sounds my dad makes when he does his construction jobs. Like when he re-did our basement. I couldn’t get the banging out of my head for months.”

“Do you think that’s the info Gavin wants us to find?”

She shrugs. “Maybe we need the other clues before we can make sense of anything.”

After gathering up the mp3 player, we exit the warehouse and head back to the window to try to extract the rope from the spike. But we don’t even make it halfway around the building before we notice a silver Ford Focus parked next to my car.

The shiny vehicle looks so out-of-place in this part of town.

I bend down to pick up the ruined pieces of my smashed phone. Sabrina gives me a look that suggests she thinks I did this on purpose. I just roll my eyes and continue to my car, glancing in the Ford’s windows as we pass. A briefcase lies on the front seat. Maybe the township has finally decided to tear this place down.

“Recognize the car?” I ask.

She peers at it for a moment. “No. But all cars look the same to me. Well, except yours.”

I head to the passenger side of my car first to help Sabrina open her sticky door, but this turns out to be unnecessary. Her door is already open. I distinctly remember her slamming it shut.

I’ve never seen another car at the warehouse before and something tells me it’s not a coincidence. My mind flashes to Gavin’s note.
If something bad happens to me…
Goosebumps erupt all over my flesh. We have to get out of here before something bad happens to us too.

I shove Sabrina into the car and ignore her protests as I race to the driver’s side. Forgetting about the seatbelt, I peel out of the parking lot. My front bumper crashes to the ground without the rope holding it in place. I swerve around it.

When we hit the next street, I let out a breath.

Sabrina grips her door with white knuckles. “What are you doing? Is this, like, the only way you know how to leave parking lots?”

“Your door was open, Sabrina. That other car was there because of us.” I think of the silver Ford Focus glinting in the sun. How did it know we were there? Then I remember the briefcase. “Do you think it’s someone from your dad’s job? The carpentry sounds?”

She shakes her head. “No one he works with carries a briefcase. Too bad it wasn’t a hard hat.”

“What about Mrs. Waverly? Maybe she followed us when she saw you in my car.”

“What reason would she have though?” Sabrina hugs her knees to her chest so she can fit more easily in my tiny car.

“I don’t know. I met her once, she didn’t seem to like me.” Though that wasn’t exactly uncommon. I glance at the rear-view mirror where a clear road stretches out behind us. “Well, we seem to have lost them, whoever it was.”

Sabrina relaxes in her seat. She flips the mp3 player over and over in her hands. “I thought Gavin would spell things out more. This is going to be harder than we thought.”

“Maybe there’s some kind of data on here that will appear if we put it in a computer. Like a hidden file with instructions,” I say. “Gavin’s all about digital music. That’s probably the clue.”

“Worth a shot. We can go to my house.”

Her house. No way. Not if her parents are there. “No, let’s get all the clues as quickly as possible, then try to figure them out.”

Sabrina reaches into the back. “Hey, where’d you put the box of clues?”

“What do you mean? It’s on the backseat.”

She goes completely still. “Um, no it’s not.”

“Shut up.” I drag the car over to the shoulder. I hope she’s joking, but when I check the backseat, it’s empty.

She clamps a hand over her mouth. “They stole the clues! I guess that rules out Mrs. Waverly, huh?”

“I don’t think it rules out anyone.” I put the car into drive and turn the wheel. The car lags, like a sluggish dog tugged along by its owner.

“What would she want with the box?” Sabrina asks.

“Is Mrs. Waverly related to your parents’ secret somehow? Does it have to do with church?” There are too many questions to ask. We need answers. “Hopefully Gavin’s plan is brilliant, and I’m the only one who knows where they lead and at least I remember what all the objects are.”

“Go faster,” she says. “Just in case. Where are we going next anyway?”

“I’m going as fast as my stupid car will allow. And the fork is next. The night I met you. Best night of your life, right?” I ask sarcastically.

Sabrina stares out the window. “Actually, it kind of was.”

Two Months Ago

T
wo weeks after I first met Gavin, I leaned against a tree across the street from his church where I usually idled my car to pick him up. Through the trees separating the church from me, I watched teens gathering in the parking lot, gabbing and chatting. They filtered inside, and a few minutes later Gavin emerged from the back entrance, a black hoodie obscuring his hair. He looked just a little too suspicious as he weaved through the trees toward my look-out post.

“Funeral?” he asked.

I raised my eyebrow at him, not understanding his question.

“I’m assuming your car died if you’re here on foot.”

“What? You think I’m that predictable?” I shook my head at him. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”

I peeled myself off the tree and strolled toward the end of the street. Gavin matched my sloth-pace.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he said after a few moments, feet crunching along the loose gravel in the road.

“Sure.” I paused at the corner, waiting for the traffic signal. Cars zoomed past us, a few honking, probably kids from Milford noticing my own recognizable hair.

Gavin turned his back to the street, just in case. “How come we never practice at your house?”

And there it was. The question I’d been dreading. My house. Where we would have privacy because Krystal barely hung around there. But that was what ashamed me. His mother was
always
around, and I didn’t want to give Gavin any reason to think he was different from me.

“The acoustics suck there.” The light changed, and I marched across the street. “Plus, the warehouse feels like it’s all ours.” That part was true at least.

“Um…” He cleared his throat when he met back up with me. There must be more. The Moxie-household question was just an icebreaker. “So my sister, Sabrina…” He pulled his zipper up and down, up and down. “She kind of found out about you.”

A dull pain grew in my chest. This was the end. My only friend would tell me he couldn’t hang out anymore. I’d have to resort to consorting with imaginary friends. “Wait…how could she have found out? I mean, you said she’s never at the church when you skip out, right?”

“Oh. No. My sister kind of noticed me…acting different. Less moody, I guess.” He turned his attention to the row of houses coming up ahead. “She had some crazy theories.” He let out a strained laugh but didn’t elaborate. “I tried to ignore her.”

I gave him a thumbs up sign. That was the same retaliation I used when Isla teased me.

“She told my parents, and then my mom started questioning me. I thought if I told everyone about you, they’d stop bugging me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So I said I met you in youth group but that backfired. And now my parents insist on meeting you.”

I stopped short. “Gavin, do you really think that’s a good idea?” If his mother avoided my grocery store line, how would she ever get through an evening staring at me? And what if they started talking to me about my religious beliefs? Or God? God and I weren’t exactly on each other’s speed dial; we mostly avoided each other.

“If they don’t meet you,” he said in a shaky voice. “They won’t let me go to youth group anymore.”

And that would stop our jam sessions.

“Well, I am kind of curious about your parents. So…I’m in.” Besides, if he had faith they could handle me, I’d try to believe in him too.

“I’m supposed to invite you out to dinner with us tomorrow night. But I’ve never brought a friend home before. And seeing as I said you were from church…” Gavin’s hand raked through his hair, a subtle gesture, but a clue I instantly recognized.

My neck and cheeks burned. “You’re ashamed of me.”

He jerked upright. “No, of course not. But…my parents.” He raked a hand through his silky hair. “I think you’re…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Great.”

My sharp intake of breath was more audible than I’d wished.
He thought I was great
. The embarrassment subsided and the corners of my lips quirked upward. If he thought I was great the way I was, then I could play up a ruse to fool his parents. “I’ll figure something out to make myself more presentable.”

“No,” he insisted, suddenly serious. “Don’t. Be yourself. I’ll deal with the fallout after.” He bit his lip. “Meet at my house, then we’ll go to a restaurant.” He dug a post-it note out of his pocket and held out his address and phone number to me.

Monumental, considering how he guarded the information two weeks ago. As I dropped his note into my pocket, I realized all this time our friendship remained frozen, never quite ready to thaw. I avoided asking him to elaborate on his home life or homeschool because I knew he would turn my questions right back around on me. I’d been screwed by that in the past. But now, as we walked, I wondered if maybe we could understand each other.

“Can I ask you something?” I said. “You might get offended.”

“I’ll try not to.” But he braced himself with a partial-wince.

“Don’t you hate being so confined by your parents’ rules?”

We rounded a corner, and quaint, identical houses replaced the thick trees that had surrounded us. An idyllic place of residence, which probably included things like neighborhood watch and strangers randomly dropping by asking to borrow sugar. Weird to me, but normal to someone else. Someone like Gavin.