Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula (15 page)

“Oh.” Blushing, I released him.

Rubbing his neck, he smiled with ease. “You have quite a grip.” Noting that my cheek shade deepened, he continued, “Please, don’t feel embarrassed. I understand how scared you are. I promise you, though, everything will be all right. You will be all right.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, believing every word.

As he continued to smile, a curious glint appeared in his black eyes. “My mom will shed light on the situation when we get her back,” he said in a casual tone.

Knitting my brow, I rewound his previous statements to figure out what I had missed.

Reading my expression, his smile broadened. “Oh, I didn’t I tell you, did I? You and I are going to find her.”

Ten

“How are we going to find your mom?”

“I’m not sure.” Emery’s cell phone vibrated with a new message. “I’m not sure how to utilize you yet,” he added distractedly, fishing his cell phone from his pants pocket.

“What the heck does that mean?” I asked, watching him read the text.

His mouth dipped into a frown. “I can reply to this text while we walk,” he said, as though he hadn’t heard me, and maybe he hadn’t. Whoever sent the message clearly wasn’t bearing good news.

He began walking, and I fell into step next to him. His long legs moved in big strides as his fingers quickly plucked at the Droid’s keypad.

While he replied to the text, I thought over the fact that his cell phone was like Grand Central Station. This was his seventh text message since we entered the woods, and he hadn’t mentioned who those were from, either. Judging by the frequency of the messages and his secretive reaction to them, I came to the most logical conclusion: “Is that your girlfriend texting?”

He let out a quick laugh and pushed
send
. I really wanted to know what was so funny.

“No, not my girlfriend,” he said, not breaking stride. We were crossing Spinning Park, heading toward the stone steps. “I’ve been texting with a former classmate named Riley. Riley has a very colorful past. She’s been using her contacts to check into my mom’s disappearance.”

His explanation triggered ten more questions. I asked one. “Is Riley, like, a private detective or something?” We started up the stone steps.

“You could call her that.” He smiled to himself, as if he found describing his former college mate this way humorous. “She is uniquely qualified in uncovering information.”

I noodled on this momentarily. However, the information Riley had “uncovered” piqued my interest more. “The news didn’t look so good that last text.”

“It wasn’t necessarily negative.” He paused in his ascent and glanced at me. “I’m just disappointed. It was information we already had.”

I circled my hand in a “keep going” gesture. “Okay? So?”

“So, Riley will keep digging,” he said, climbing steps again. This wasn’t what I was asking for, but apparently this was all Emery was willing to give. “I’ll let you know when something crucial comes up.”

This left a sour taste in my mouth. “Meaning when you figure out how to utilize me?”

“That was a poor word choice,” he admitted. He stepped up onto the sidewalk and turned to face me. “Is ‘partners’ better?”

“I like partners,” I said, and then joked, “Should we spit and shake on it?”

“That’s how I bind my agreements.” To my astonished delight, Emery then spit in his palm and offered his hand to me.

I laughed and spit in my hand, taking his. We shook. The gesture was absolutely disgusting, yet endearing. Silly thing is, it did feel like we had sealed the deal.

Dad’s Volvo pulled up to the sidewalk. We quickly released hands. I swiped my palm across my jeans, turning to Dad with a smile.

He rolled down the car window. “Good timing. We were just about to head down and find you two.”

From the passenger seat, Ben grinned largely at us.

“Detective Conlin needs the four of us at the lab,” said Dad.

“What have they found?” Emery asked, quickly opening the back door and gesturing for me to go first.

Surprised, I thanked him, sliding into the backseat. Following me, he didn’t respond. He stared at Dad, waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry, Emery, but they haven’t uncovered any solid leads yet. The police have completed their initial investigation and would like us to see if we notice anything different or missing in the lab.”

Emery nodded acknowledgment.

After giving him an encouraging look, Dad turned back to the steering wheel.

As Dad pulled from the curb, Ben looked back at us. With a friendly smile, he asked, “Hey, I noticed a soccer game going on down there. Were you playing?”

“Me?” I pointed to myself, grateful for Ben’s diversion tactic. “You’re asking
me
if I was playing soccer?”

“
You
? I wasn’t asking you,” he teased, reaching back and tugging my hair. “I know you’re allergic to soccer balls, basketballs…” He listed all the sports balls I was apparently allergic to, which were all of them. After wrapping up the exhaustive list, he added. “So, Emery, did you play?”

“No. I’ve never played before.”

Ben looked shocked. “You’re kidding me. Never? That won’t do. The game is awesome. Hey, I’ll tell you what, I’ll come over tomorrow and teach you. I can tell by your build you’d be a natural.”

“Thank you. I’d like that,” Emery said absently.

After a moment of appreciating Ben’s heart of gold, I wondered why he was still here. “I thought you’d be surfing by now.”

Ben turned his infectious grin to Dad. “Well, you know, your old man, he’s a total slave driver, but try as he may, he’s not stopping me from going to the coast today.”

I could see Dad smile in the rearview mirror.

Ben’s grin returned to me. “I’m taking off after the lab.”

“But it’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive. Don’t you think it’s getting too late to go?”

He motioned out the windshield. “Cassy Girl, the sky is clear, and there’s a full moon tonight.”

“So?”

“The best surfing is at night.”

“You surf in the dark?” I asked in disbelief.

“I just told you there’s a full moon tonight. It won’t be dark.”

“The water will be. Don’t you want to see what’s coming up to eat you?”

“No,” Ben laughed. “It adds to the excitement.”

Taking a moment from his thoughts, Emery smiled at this.

I was flabbergasted.

~~~

There was a different security guard at the lobby’s front desk. This guard belonged more in a flowing gown than a bulky, khaki uniform, though she did compensate for its unattractiveness by keeping the shirt unbuttoned low, showing off impressive cleavage. With milky skin, big blue eyes, jet-black hair, and a button nose, she reminded me of Snow White. I didn’t like her, right off the bat.

As the four of us approached the desk, her thick red lips stretched over her very white teeth. Her smile was radiant.

Dad greeted her. “Hello, my name is Drake Jones. We have an appointment with Detective Conlin in Professor Phillips’s lab.”

Her voice was smooth and satiny. “Yes, Mr. Jones. He’s given you clearance. You’ll need to sign in.” She tapped the visitor’s log with a long, creamy index finger. Her fingernails were painted siren red.

Dad peeked at her badge, avoiding the cleavage. “Thank you, Selma.”

“Mr. Jones, I need your driver’s licenses,” she informed with a too-friendly smile.

While Dad dug around in his wallet, Selma leaned on the desk, showing more cleavage. This was obviously a calculated move.

“Mr. Jones, I must confess I took a little peek at the visitors list when I arrived today,” she said, her voice turned sultry. “I was thrilled to see your name written down.” Looking up at him through her long lashes, she smiled provocatively. “I’m sure I’m your biggest fan. There isn’t a night that goes by that I don’t watch you. Oh, on TV, I mean,” she clarified with a steamy laugh.

My eyes burned with rage.

If Dad were taken aback, he certainly didn’t show it. With his professional face plastered on, he replied courteously, “Well, thank you, young lady. I’m glad you enjoy the segment.” He handed her his license.

Selma, also a professional, took the license from him, running her long fingers over his wedding ring.

If I had been required to speak at the moment, I would have been speechless. It took every bit of restraint I had not to leap over the desk and scratch her pretty blue eyes out.

To my horror, the expression on Ben’s face was bewitched. Apparently, he’d fallen under the twisted Snow White’s enchantment. As he leaned on the desk, his grin stretched wide. “I’m Ben Johnson. Am I on your list, Selma?” He offered his license to her.

A mocking smile played on her lips. “Not mine, but you are on Detective Conlin’s.” She plucked the license from his fingers.

The daze cleared from his eyes as the enchantment broke. Straightening up, Ben glanced at Dad and mouthed
, Ouch
. Then he grinned.

“Gentlemen, please sign in while I copy down your information,” Selma requested. However, she didn’t do that. As Ben signed in and Dad waited his turn, Selma stared at Emery, that smile continuing to play. As she leaned toward him, I fought the temptation to cover his eyes.

“Aren’t you Professor Phillips’s son?”

His eyes locked on hers. “Yes. Are you new here?”

“Not very. You must have missed my shifts.” As she leaned even closer, his eyes didn’t waver from her face. “I’m very sorry about your mother.” Her voice dropped low, taking on a velvety tone. “I was on duty the night of the fire.”

Dad’s head snapped to her. “You were on duty that night? Were you the security guard who discovered the fire?”

“Oh, no, not me. The other guard, Charlie Donaldson, was the first one on the scene,” she answered, smiling up at him.

“You went up, though, didn’t you, Selma? You must have noticed something unusual.”

“Oh, I did, very unusual, Drake. May I call you Drake?”

“What did you notice, Miss Heart?”

Selma laughed. “Oh my, Drake, you’ve hurt my feelings.” She feigned a pout.

With a slight smile, Dad didn’t respond.

Her pouting red lips turned up. “I’d really like to tell you, Drake, but the police have asked me not to talk about it.”

“Miss Heart, how do you think the kidnappers got past you and Mr. Donaldson?”

Slowly, she pushed herself back in the chair, keeping eye contact with Dad.

“
Was
Professor Phillips kidnapped?”

Dad rephrased. “Theoretically speaking, then, if she had been kidnapped, how would they have gotten her past you and Mr. Donaldson?”