Dragons of Drupes - 6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

I lunged to grab Jack as he fell at the same time Terry knocked the muffin from Faye’s lips. Down the hall we heard the sound of the door opening, and Josina’s voice. “They’re imposters and they’re in my house!”

Terry grabbed Jack’s other arm and we hauled him out the living room. “Kitchen!” I said. “Back door.”

We raced through the back garden, toward a rickety-looking gate, hopefully leading to a street. Faye ran ahead, yanking the gate open to let us through. Behind us, I heard the sound of a door slamming.

“They’re heading this way!” Faye said and we picked up our pace, Jack’s head lolling, chin to his chest. We hurried down an alley edged with fences on one side and rows of trees on the other.

Terry jerked his head toward the trees, motioning for us to head in there. The ground was soggy underfoot, but the maze of trees before us left endless hiding possibilities. Terry and I shared a glance at the sound of shoes slapping against a path.

“I think they’re coming this way,” Faye said. “You guys get Jack to safety, I’m going to get them off our track.”

“No!” Terry said, fear flashing in his eyes and he stopped.

Faye didn’t answer, except to run back toward the street, crashing through the thicket.

Ahead, I saw a small clearing and a picket fence leading into an apple orchard. “There,” I said to Terry, pointing to a Golden Harvest City Park sign. The map of the park was shaped into an ‘L’ and with the hundreds of trees crammed together in rows with thick trunks it was perfect for hiding.

I took all of Jack’s weight on me and slid into a sitting position at the base of a thick tree trunk, Jack’s head on my shoulders, legs sprawled before him.

One look at Terry, and I knew he was going after Faye.

“We’ll stay here,” I said as I fumbled to finally check Jack’s breathing and pulse. Both were fine, but he was knocked out cold.

Terry left as I double checked Jack’s pulse, fingers pressed to his warm neck. “What gave us away?” I muttered as if he could hear me.

Hair had fallen over his eyes and I pushed it back. He may have slurred or mumbled, but when I called his name there was no response. I tilted his head so it rested on my shoulder and not the rough, cold bark.

My stomach was in a knot, flinching at every stir, wanting to make sure he was as comfortable as possible—that he’d be alright.

I searched his face and neck for any signs of allergy, breathing out in relief when I couldn’t spot anything and his breathing remained steady.

I never knew I’d feel so, so . . . protective over Jack, but right now that’s exactly what I was feeling. “You’re going to be okay,” I whispered, “You’ll be fine, we won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

I continued talking to him, I wasn’t even sure what I was talking about half the time, I just hoped he’d hear my voice and wake up.

After a half-hour Jack stirred.

“Jack? You okay?” I asked, unable to keep the fear from my voice.

“Hmmm, cold,” he mumbled and tried to push himself closer into me.

I wrapped my arm around him, offering him more warmth. “Do you need anything? Water?” With my other hand I yanked a bottle out of my satchel. Uncapping the lid, I held it to him.

“You’re co-zeee,” he said the word into my neck.

Was this the side effect of the spiked muffin? “Stop speaking. Drink,” I said, but lightly, urging him to take some water.

“You care,” he slurred, lips curling into a smile.

Water slipped down his chin, until he snapped his head up and lurched off me. Sitting upright, he wiped the corners of his mouth. “What happened?” His face shadowed as he pieced it together himself. “That bitch!”

He took the water I held to him and drank half the bottle.

“I second that,” came Terry’s voice. I looked over to see Terry and Faye weaving through nearby trees. “Good to see you’re alright, Jack.”

Jack motioned for the cap. “Yeah, yeah, I think I’m fine. My mouth’s still a bit numb but”—he flexed his arms and legs—“I think I’ll be okay. Must have been a strong sedative or something.”

A large, face-splitting smile crossed my face and for a second I let myself relax back against the tree. Thank God, he was fine, he’d be okay.

Then I remembered how Faye had run off as a distraction. I sat up straight. “How’d it go?”

Terry shook his head, smiling and jerked a thumb toward Faye. “This girl can run.”

 

* * *

Thanks to the Botanical Revolution parks and orchards were found at nearly every street corner, which meant we had plenty of options where to take a break after we’d moved as far away from Avice’s as possible.

At South Cherry Public Park, we sat around a picnic bench adjacent to an old white chapel with a single orange, yellow, and red speckled dragon atop it. Though we all tried not to look, every now and then one of us would glance upwards.

“So what do we think?” Terry asked. He was keen to get back to the case as soon as Jack gave the okay. He’d given it two hours ago, which was about three minutes after we’d left the last park, but I told him to shut it and give himself some time.

He’d agreed to that, but not to the arm I offered him as we traipsed through the city. To that he’d given me a funny little frown.

I looked across the picnic table to where Jack was readjusting the strap on his bag. He looked much better; the color returned to his cheeks. I turned to Terry.

“I need to check a couple of things. But so far there’s little motivation.” First I’d have to study Avice’s diary. I didn’t want to tell them about it though, unless something critical came up.

Again I glanced at Jack. I guess some part of me worried there’d be a sudden delayed reaction to whatever-it-was he’d taken.

Jack caught my gaze. “What? For the fifth time, I’m okay. I feel fine.” He was trying to go for an annoyed tone, but the small quirk of his lip said otherwise.

“Next on the list is Rohesia Auber, right, Drake?” Faye said.

“Are you all set? You don’t have to come along if you don’t want, Jack.”

His only answer was to snort and throw his backpack over one shoulder.

Faye pulled out some brochures. “I designed these last night,” she said. “Should be authentic enough.”

Terry shook his head. “What are you talking about ‘enough’. They’re an uncanny likeness.” He smiled proudly at her. If I knew any better, I’d call him smitten.

I said, “Is the camera set to record her responses and facial expressions?”

“Way ahead of you,” Faye said, flashing a smile at me. “I’ve turned it on already, so I won’t give us away.”

“Off to Rohesia’s then,” Jack said, flashing me a look and quietly adding, “without getting lost this time.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard the faintest tinkling of a chuckle.

We reached the square in ten minutes. We weren’t halfway across it when static, like someone fiddling with a microphone, crackled from the lampposts surrounding the four streets.

“Welcome to another round of campaign interviews,” blasted a male voice from the poles. “First up we have Bernlak Fitzroy talking to us about his energy policy. Mr. Fitzroy, this must be the hundredth interview you’ve done in the last few months, all leading down to the election.”

Another male voice, confident yet soft, filled the air. “This would be my 127^th, to be exact.”

“That’s full on, not to mention you are running as the current mayor and have just introduced the compulsory child immunization program. When do you sleep?” The interviewer and mayor laughed together.

Campaigning. It was the same everywhere.

None of the jokes were funny.

“This way,” Jack said, leading us toward a street that turned off the square diagonally.

We went past the house where the dragon had caught my eye earlier. I shivered and trotted up front next to Jack.

He was walking with one hand in his left jeans pocket. When he saw me he quietened the tune he was humming. Staring at his hair, I let out a short laugh.

“What?” he said, feeling his hair.

“You’re making it worse. Stand still a sec.”

He halted, looking at me wearily, then glanced at Terry and Faye who were dawdling way behind us. “Please tell me it’s not a spider,” he muttered, the color draining from his cheeks.

“Nah, it’s just a leaf,” I said, removing what had caught in a lock of his hair. “That’s better.”

I dropped the leaf to the ground, then looked up to see Jack staring at me with a . . . strange look on his face. Sort of amused, but mostly puzzled.

A lot puzzled.

“What?”

He shook his head, “Uh, nothing.” But as we continued walking, I noticed him feel his hair.

“I got rid of it all,” I said.

“I kn-now,” he stuttered, reddening, then quickly darting his gaze to the houses on his right.

Terry and Faye finally caught up. “What?” Terry said at my frown. “We were just running through our lines.”

Just running through their lines? Honestly.

Something was going on between those two. This couldn’t end out well.

Faye hurried to nod. “Yeah, we’ll need to engage Rohesia for ten minutes until you’re done.”

“Uh-huh.” Yeah, right. I bit back a snappy retort and focused on the path ahead.

For a half-hour we continued on, legs growing heavier with each step.

I don’t know why, but hearing our footsteps on the cobbled stone streets made me think of Chrissy and the loud cracking sound of the snare as she hit its skin with her wooden drumsticks. Every time I listened to her play, my heart would thump so loud, I swear the drums only just covered it up.

I wondered how many guys had that feeling around her. A lot, probably.

More than enough to make me nervous . . .

My eyes flashed to Faye and Terry, back to ambling way behind us. I turned to Jack, as the sunlight hit his face, giving him a golden glow. He must have loads of girls hitting on him. “Hey Jack,” I asked, as if there was nothing more casual to talk about. “How do you go about, you know, ah, hitting on a girl?”

He choked a little. “What?”

“I’m sorta freaking about asking Chrissy out tonight.”

“Oh, Chrissy,” he said, frowning, then smiled weakly. “Guess it depends how much you like her.”

“You mean do I like her more than fancying to get in her pants? Then yeah. I think she’s pretty cool.”

“Cool huh?”

“Well, yeah, she’s confident and passionate about things, I like that, and she really is quite cheeky. We sort of feed off each other, you know; there’s always a laugh around her.” I thought some more, then shrugged. “She’s cool. And of course she has great rhythm—”

“—I get it,” Jack said.

“So, what’d you do?”

“Maybe I’m not the best guy to ask. I’m not that . . . experienced.”

Me neither. “It sucks, huh.”

“Really not enough,” Jack said low under his breath.

I stopped walking for a second. The little angel o’ mine just might be turning into the devil. I grinned. “Really, really not enough.”

He snickered and hit my side.

I grinned and returned the favor, almost bowling him into an agapanthus bush.

“Jack,” I heard Terry say behind me, “What street did you say we had to go down?”

Jack looked up at the street sign behind us; a sheepish smile crossed his face. “Missed that.”

“Not your fault, mine.” I was the one distracting him with stupid questions on how to ask out Chrissy.

“Nah, it really was mine,” Jack urged.

Faye looked at between us with a puzzled expression on her face. She nudged Terry without lifting her eyes off of us. “Are you hearing this?”

“I know.”

“I don’t think stranger things have happened.”

“Let’s get back on track,” Jack blurted and backed up to the junction we’d missed.

Faye shook her head, smiling and gestured me to go on. In the distance, I could still hear a faint murmur of the Mayor’s election campaign interview. I twisted, walking backwards to talk to Terry.

“Do you think I’m ready to pick the lock myself?” I was nervous about my part in our next plan. If I messed this up, the whole thing’d be botched.

“You’ll be fine. Patience is all. And remember,” he went on to repeat the mantra he’d been teaching me all summer, since our last case, “all the way to the back.”

Faye’s voice picked up, ‘Drake, watch—’

I felt something hard prod into my back, followed by a loud ka-plunk and a yelp. I lost my balance, my foot on something soft and very un-ground-like, and Terry grabbed me before I fell. I twisted around to see a short, thirty-something man sprawled on the ground, a couple of wooden signs lying next to him.

‘—out.’ Faye finished quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, “Are you okay?”

The man picked himself up, scanning the ground. He picked up a pair of spectacles and rested them onto the bridge of his nose and swiped away a couple of stray brown locks. “Quite alright, nothing like falling to the ground to get you back to your senses.”

“I really am sorry,” I said, “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“And I should’ve paid more attention—have a terrible habit of day dreaming when I walk.” His face was red and flustered. Daydreaming? I glanced at the signs still scattered on the ground.

More like preoccupied.

Faye and Jack picked up the man’s signs and handed them to him. On one was a picture stenciled in white on a blue background. In the centre was a row of houses with humans strapped to the roofs, their faces pointed upward. In block letters the caption read: how would you like it?

“Interesting signs,” I said.

He extended a hand and I shook it. “I’m Professor Thomas Quincey,” he said, smiling broadly, “the spokesman of the dragon-slavery abolition movement.”

Jack had snuck back to us, hovering to my right. “Sounds like you’re standing up for a worthy cause,” he said, looking to the roof tops and shuddering.

Seriously. Was this the same guy that complained about buying organic food?

The Professor smiled at him. “We are meeting Sunday evening to protest the cruel treatment of dragons and demand they have equal rights. If you are interested—”

“Absolutely,” Jack and I said at exactly the same time.

We shared a look; Jack’s eyes twinkled and I could see his lips curve up to his flushed cheeks. It should have only lasted a second, but I couldn’t pull away from it, and neither did he. The Professor had already started talking again, but it was mere background noise. There was something powerful making me hold onto Jack’s gaze. Or was he holding mine? Perhaps this was a game: who would turn away first?

“Drake?” Faye’s voice broke the spell.

“Yeah?”

“Did you want to write the address down?”

I flicked open my satchel, pulling out the notepad and a pen. “Once again, please.”

“Eight o’clock Sunday evening, on the roof of 76 Tart Cherry Boulevard.”

After he’d left us we continued down the road. This time I kept my eyes glued in front of me, although one part wanted to look in Jack’s eyes to see if that thing—whatever it was—would happen again. But the other part was screaming it was a pretty weird thing to do. With a guy.

Right?

I looked around to distract myself. Proper houses with little plots of garden in front and high hedges fenced off curious onlookers like me. Who couldn’t resist peering into lit rooms? It was interesting. I liked seeing people doing their ordinary day stuff like cooking or reading. Oddly peaceful.

“Nearly there,” Jack said, his left hand in his pocket again.

“Awe-some,” Terry sang.

“Wait there a sec.” Faye stopped, bunched her blonde hair together and tied it up. “Professional enough?”

Terry’s brow lifted slightly and I watched him size Faye up, an almost invisible smile on his face, only given away by a slight crease at the side of his lip.

“You look fine,” I said curtly, then charged up ahead.

Jack caught up to me and put an arm on my shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Haven’t you noticed anything funny between them?” I scowled.

“Funny?”

“Like, close,” I said, emphasizing ‘close’.

His face pursed together as if he’d eaten something sour, and I thought he’d agreed with me, but then I heard a muffled laughing.

“I tried to hold that in,” he said, “but seriously, you think they’re together?”

“Are you telling me you haven’t noticed anything?”

He shook his head. “I think you’re reading way too much into it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re just one for . . . jumping to conclusions. It’s the way your mind works, piecing puzzles together—I get it, but sometimes there isn’t a puzzle to piece. Know what I’m saying?”

Darn. He was sounding reasonable.

“But even if they were together,” Jack said, “would that be so bad?”

I didn’t really have an answer to that; I wasn’t sure why the thought bothered me so much. Maybe it was the idea of them keeping it a secret? I thought of Faye’s coat on Terry’s couch. I shrugged. “Well . . . we live together, it’s kind of a general rule not to be with people you live with. Don’t screw the crew and all that.”

“But if they cared about each other . . . “

I looked at Jack, his eyes searching my face for an answer. “It’s just sticky. What if they broke up? All that tension would make it difficult to live together.”

Jack started fiddling with his bag, trying to yank the zip open. “Right.”

“So, which of these dandy houses is it?” I asked.

He raised his head and scanned the letter boxes for numbers. “That one there with the rose bushes out front.”

I felt Terry’s hand slap me across the back. “We ready?”

“Hope so,” I said, patting my satchel.

Terry grinned. “Patience is all, and remember—”

“All the way to the back,” we finished together.

“Give us two minutes,” I said.

Faye handed Terry a handful of brochures. “All set.”

Jack and I crept to the back of Rohesia Auber’s house. Thanks to the cover of rose bushes, we had no problem. I looked at my watch. Terry and Faye would be ringing the bell soon. We dashed to the backdoor, and a few seconds after we heard the bell ring, Jack checked the door wasn’t open. “Locked.”

I pulled out the small lock picking kit from my satchel. I’d practiced this numerous times, I could do it. Would do it.

With shaky hands, I placed a tension wrench into the lower portion of the keyhole and checked which way the cylinder had to be turned. “Counterclockwise,” I murmured to Jack. Then, applying pressure, I rotated the wrench and held it. With my other hand I fumbled for the pick. I carefully inserted it into the keyhole and felt for the pins.

“All the way to the back,” Jack repeated Terry’s words.

Soon I heard a faint clicking sound. Yes!

“Quick,” Jack said. I knew he didn’t mean we had to hurry: he was impressed.

“Thanks,” I whispered, gently pushing the door open.

With light steps we snuck into the house. Jack had already taken the camera from his bag and was snapping photos.

“Ugh. She’s a bit of a slob,” he whispered. “I can hardly see the floor.”

There were clothes all over the floor and on the couch, even on the table lay a pair of red leather platform boots.

God knew I wasn’t the cleanest guy. But dirty shoes where you ate? That’s pretty gross.

I scanned the walls; Rohesia may have been messy, but she was probably smart too. Two of the walls were shelves, stacked up with books. On another hung a university degree: she’d taken at least five years’ worth of classes. I scanned down the list, Geo375, Stat305, Psy407, Pols384, Phil123, Geo376. Jeez, she’d taken a variety. She was certainly clever enough to plot something.

“It’s weird she’s so slobby,” I said. “All she’d have to do is use her Soundimer to put it all in its place.”

“Some people feel at home in such a state,” Jack said, emphasizing ‘some’ with a cursory glance at me.

“My room wouldn’t be messy if I had a wand. Besides, it’s not that bad, at least there’s nothing on the floor . . . ” Only piled up on heaps over the chair.

We neared the front entrance and I saw Rohesia’s back. She was leaning on the door frame and over her shoulder I could see Terry’s face. Was he blushing?

Jack rounded up the side of the staircase and slunk up it. I followed, leaning over the banister to catch some of Terry’s lines.

“Did you know that the rate of break-ins in this area has risen?”

I heard Rohesia’s soft, singy voice respond, she didn’t sound like someone who’d live the way she did. “This is a pretty well-off area. I’m surprised.”

“You would be surprised.” Faye said, and I chuckled to myself. “That’s why your vote should go to Madeleine Boteler. She proposes tougher punishment on crime. . . ”

I caught up to Jack in the first room on the left. It had to be the master bedroom.

“It’s a bit better in here,” he said, snapping a few more pictures. “At least she looks after her jewelry.”

I walked over to the dresser. Pearl earrings, a gold bracelet, rings and an assortment of other valuables were set out in small show cases. “Are they real diamonds?” I asked.

Jack came over and grabbed for the jewelry. I lunged at him, knocking him down, but was too late. He had the necklace in his hands. “Huh. I’d really expected the alarms to go off.” I apologized, my hands on either side of him, pinning him to the ground. “You okay?”

“Alarms?” he said, smirking, looking up at me.

“They were show-cased and looked valuable . . .” I realized I still hadn’t picked myself off him. Forcing my gaze elsewhere, I got up. As soon as he was free, Jack studied the necklace. Obviously his head wasn’t spinning the way mine was, or concentrating would’ve been Out. Of. The. Question.

I sat on the bed and waited. Then looked at him.

Seriously, why wasn’t his head spinning?

Duh. Maybe because he wasn’t reading anything into it.

“So are they real?” I asked.

“Can’t tell.” Jack said after a minute, swatting a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “But she keeps her jewelry very clean—like she polishes it often. It’s a good indication they’re real. Would you put in so much care for something fake? I mean, it’s possible some people would, but they’d be the type of people to keep the rest of their house clean too. That’s my take, anyway.”

“Okay. I believe you.” So, she had real diamonds. Red Eye was a rare jewel, was that her motivation? Just to possess it? It didn’t seem likely; she’d be rich enough to buy smaller ones. No. Whoever stole it needed it for its size, its power; there had to be some bigger motivation.

I jumped to my feet and extended a hand to Jack, helping him up. “Let’s get out of here. Poor Terry and Faye must be running out of arguments soon.”

We slid downstairs, tiptoed behind Rohesia, and through the sitting room. Just as we were about to enter the kitchen, I spun round.

“What?” Jack mouthed.

I stared at the walls one by one. “There’s no fireplace.”

We both heard the dull thud of the front door shutting and light footsteps. Jack tugged my arm and we swiftly moved to the back door, leaving without looking back.

Sidling up the side of Rohesia’s house, I stopped, Jack almost bumping into me. He motioned me to move on. But all I could do was stare at the roof, unlike all the other houses in the street—in the city we’d seen, this house had no dragon.