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Authors: Allison Maruska

Project Renovatio (9 page)

BOOK: Project Renovatio
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“I hope so.”

“What about–Walt?”

“Yeah, Walt. He’s okay. The kidnappers drugged him. He’s still in the hospital.” He looked at Scott. “Do you know where my mother is?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. She may just appear somewhere, though, now that you’ve broken up with Maggie. Can I see your mother’s house?”

“We’re on our way there now.”

“Okay. What information did you give the police about PR?”

Levin glanced at him. “I gave them the address my mother used to send the letter. I also told them the name.”

“That won’t get them anywhere. PR stays very underground. The address your mother used goes to a mailbox in a building we only use to collect mail. It’s the same building I sent you to when you came to San Diego. No one’s there except for the guard.”

“Oh.”

“And the name isn’t written anywhere. Not even on checks. We use a dummy name.”

“Why?”

“To keep people off our trail. Remember what I said about the general population not taking kindly to the work we do? The information you gave the police will lead to dead ends. I’ll see what I can do to learn where your mother is. But I’ll need to figure out a way to ask without actually asking so they don’t know I’m working with you.”

“Thanks.”

Scott focused out the passenger window. “Do you ever wonder what the PR kids could do if they teamed up?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like on a sports team or something.”

“Well, I don’t think I’d bet against a team like that.”

Scott laughed. “Or what if they joined the army? What if PR kids made up the whole army?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Just something I thought about the other day.”

Levin scowled in Scott’s direction before turning his attention to the road.

They traveled another twenty minutes before arriving at Liz’s house. When he unlocked the door, the smell of cleansers nearly overwhelmed him.

“I guess they did a good job.” Levin coughed and scanned the living room. “I don’t see any blood.”

The investigators had found the note under a pillow. Levin flipped over all the pillows in a vain attempt to find something more. Scott entered the kitchen; Levin followed and found him standing in the middle of the room.

“What do you think?” Levin asked.

“It doesn’t make sense. Why did they take your mother instead of Maggie to begin with? And if they kidnapped your mother to get to you, and now you’ve done what they want, shouldn’t they have reason to, you know, give her back?”

“I think so.”

“That hasn’t happened. And they haven’t said how you can get her back. We’re missing something.” He held his arm across his torso, supporting his elbow. His hand stroked his chin and he rocked on his feet. “Did your mom save a copy of the letter she sent, maybe in her email?”

“Yeah, I used it to find the address.” Levin led Scott to the desk in the family room and opened the laptop. While it loaded, he studied the small cork board where his mother pinned various papers and fliers. Nothing seemed unusual.

The computer finished loading, and he opened his mother’s email program. Three new emails had appeared since Levin used her phone, and one caught his attention.

Scott leaned over his shoulder. “That message has your name in the subject line.”

“I noticed.” Levin opened the message.

 

Levin,

You were foolish to think your mother could stop communicating with us. Before we tell you where she is, we want to know if you can follow directions, since you did not heed our warning about your girlfriend. Another PR family lives near you. Rana knows them, but only one in the family knows her. The walls tell the story. That family has your next step.

 

“No, not this clue nonsense again. Now they’re just screwing with us.” Levin placed his elbows onto the desk and his face in his hands before he remembered something. He spun the chair around to face Scott. “You left the clues last time.”

Scott shook his head. “It wasn’t only me. I was part of a group. The front man.”

“So you have nothing to do with this?” Levin raised his eyebrows. “It’s pretty convenient the clues appear the same time you do.”

“You called me, remember? I’m not involved this time. You’ll just have to trust me.”

They stared at each other. Levin clenched his jaw and faced the computer again. “We need to retrieve my sisters.”

“Yeah, I figured. Do you know who they’re talking about?”

“I think I do. But Rana needs to lead the way.”

Chapter Fourteen

 

After Levin printed the email, he and Scott returned to the car.

Levin started the engine. “Don’t you know the location of all the PR families?”

“No, I don’t. They tell me where to go and who to talk to as needed.”

“Of course they do.” He put his elbow on the window and rubbed his forehead with his thumb and finger. “Have you tried getting information from them yet?”

“No. But I figured out a way to do it.”

Scott retrieved his phone from his pocket and found a contact. He silently held his phone to his ear for a few seconds. “Hi. It’s Scott. One of my brothers contacted me saying something happened to his mom. Just wondering if you know anything about it. Call me back.”

“That was simple. Who’d you call?”

“My dad–Steven Craig. He knows I met with you, so he won’t be surprised you called me. And he might know something.”

They sat in silence for the remainder of the drive. Levin yawned as he pulled into his apartment complex and parked the car. “Wait here. I’ll get the girls.”

****

“What do you mean another family?” Rana rose from the couch and stood with one hand on her hip, glaring at her brother and refusing to believe the Project knew about the party.

“That’s what the message said.”

“Do we really have to go on another treasure hunt? Maybe the police will find Mom.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t see another option.”

Rana stewed for a moment. “Fine.” She yelled into the bedroom. “Dayla, we’re leaving.”

Dayla tromped out of the room, holding a book. “I know; I heard you guys. You were loud enough.”

“Sorry. Let’s go.” Rana put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. Levin locked the door and led the way to the car.

“Is that Scott?” Dayla asked.

“Yeah. He’s helping us find Mom.” Levin took his place in the driver’s seat while the girls piled into the back seat.

Scott twisted around. “Hello again, ladies. It’s nice to see you.”

“Hi,” Dayla said. Rana picked at her fingernails and stared out the windshield.

Scott turned his attention to Levin. “My dad–Dr. Craig–called me back.”

“And?”

“He told me to stay out of it.”

“Well, there you go. I guess I didn’t need to call you after all.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m hoping to pick up on patterns in case PR does this to another family.”

“Do you think they will?”

“Can’t say for sure. I hope they don’t.”

Rana directed Levin to Jason’s house. She gritted her teeth and tried to decide how to explain herself.
I hear you belong to Project Renovatio, too!
Nope.
Can you tell me where your dad lives?
Terrible.
So, you come to this gene pool often?
Ugh.

Scott faced the back seat again. “How did you know they meant that family in the email?”

“I . . . um . . . saw Jason trip into the wall and dent it.
The walls tell the story
. I don’t understand how they could have known that, though.”

“Who did you tell about it?”

“Just my friend, Jacey, and Levin. But lots of other people came to the party. I suppose one of them could have said something to someone.”

“Hmmm.” Scott typed into his phone.

They arrived much sooner than Rana would have liked. Of course, if she had the choice, they wouldn’t be there at all.

“What should I do? Go by myself?” she asked.

“No. I’ll go with you. Dayla, stay in the car with Scott.” Levin looked at Scott. “Is that okay?”

“Of course. She’ll be fine.” He smiled towards Dayla in the back seat.

Levin and Rana left the car, walked to the porch, and rang the doorbell. A tall woman with short, brown hair answered. She examined the two standing adjacent to each other on her porch.

“Hi . . . um, are you Mrs. Burke?” Rana asked.

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“I’m Rana Davis. I go to school with Jason. This is my brother, Levin.”

“Oh, how nice. Would you like me to get him for you?” She turned and pointed up the stairs.

“No, thank you. I actually need to ask you a question. It’s gonna sound kinda weird.”

Mrs. Burke shifted her feet and crossed her arms. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“Does the name ‘Project Renovatio’ mean anything to you?”

Mrs. Burke’s jaw dropped. She gently pushed them outside and closed the door behind her. “How do you know about that?” She glared at Rana.

“We’re part of it.”

Mrs. Burke glanced at the closed door. “Jason doesn’t know about Project Renovatio. He thinks my husband is his biological father.” She looked at the car. “Can I ask what’s going on here?”

Rana’s eyes burned as she fought back tears. The idea that she and Jason were alike overwhelmed her. She stared at Levin, hoping he would take over the explanation.

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Someone kidnapped our mother last night. PR is behind it–it’s a long story. Anyway, they said we’d find her when we follow a set of directions. The first one suggested you have the next clue we need.”

Mrs. Burke looked past them for a moment before her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness. Wait here a minute.” She went back into the house, then reappeared holding a blue envelope.

“I found this under my windshield wiper. It doesn’t mean anything to me; I put it into our recycling bin. Maybe it will mean something to you.” She handed it to Levin.

He opened the envelope and removed a yellow paper with a message written on it in blue ink. Rana read the message to herself.

Now you must go to the Paddle Dog Motel.

“What’s the Paddle Dog Motel?” she asked Levin.

“I have no idea.” He faced Mrs. Burke. “Thank you. This looks like what we need.”

“I’m glad. I hope you find your mother safe, and soon. I must say, I’m disturbed the Project would do something like this. Should I be concerned?”

“I don’t think so. This was personal. We’ll call if you need to know more.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll let you be on your way.” She re-entered the house, and the siblings returned to the car.

****

Levin’s stomach turned when he saw the yellow paper–identical to the one the investigator showed him the night before. He kept the discovery to himself, as Rana didn’t need another reason to stress.

When they re-entered the car, both Dayla and Scott looked at them expectantly. Levin read the note aloud.

“What’s the Paddle Dog Motel? Sounds like a fancy pet boarding place,” Scott said.

Levin shrugged, pulled his phone from his pocket, and did a search for the name. “Nothing’s coming up here.”

“Can I see the note?” Dayla held her hand toward the front seat.

“Sure, I guess.” He gave it to her.

She held it with both hands over her lap and examined it. “Does anyone have a pencil?”

“Why?” Levin asked.

“I want to see something.”

“Okay.” He opened the glove compartment in front of Scott and jostled its contents. “I have a pen. Will that work?”

“Yeah.”

He handed her the pen and watched her write. She drew lines from
Paddle Dog Motel
and wrote the letters in different orders beneath it.

“You think it’s an anagram?” Rana asked.

“Yep. ‘Paddle Dog Motel’ is meaningless. So the real meaning is hidden.”

Scott smiled at Dayla. “You’re very smart.”

“Thank you,” she said without looking up from the paper. Scott chuckled.

Levin pulled the car into the street. “I need coffee, and it’s almost dinnertime. Let’s see if Dayla can figure that out before I get to a restaurant. Loser pays for dinner.”

Dayla grinned at him and went back to writing on the paper. “Everyone, be quiet.”

He laughed to himself. Five minutes into the drive, worry filled his gut.

What if she couldn’t figure it out? They’d be stuck with this meaningless message and no other clues to follow.

As Levin drove into the parking lot of a fast food place, Dayla asked, “Does ‘gold plated dome’ mean anything?”

“Maybe. The capitol building downtown has a gold-plated dome,” Rana said.

“I guess you win.” Levin faced the back seat and winked at Dayla.

****

Rana had to admit the clues provided a welcome distraction from last night’s traumas, though unease took hold in her gut when she considered how close whoever took her mother must be to leave the clues. She didn’t voice her concern in case no one shared it.

They arrived at the capitol building as the sun lowered behind the mountains. Levin found a spot on a side street to park the car, and the group walked together to the building. Rana glared at Scott. Why did he join them? He didn’t contribute much to their efforts, and he worked on his phone constantly.

Rana pointed to the top of the building. “See, Dayla? That’s the gold-plated dome. It’s covered with thin sheets of real gold.”

“Cool.” Dayla scanned the rest of the building. “What are we looking for?”

Levin strolled towards the building’s front steps. “I’m not sure. I guess we should walk around and search for something meaningful.” He jogged up the steps, tried one of the doors, and found it locked. He turned and examined the tall arches guarding the entryway. The rest joined him, scanning different parts of the building.

“What’s that?” Rana pointed to a small blue square taped to the inside of one of the arches about ten feet above the ground.

“I don’t know, but it looks out of place.” Levin jumped, trying to grab it. After three attempts, he searched for another solution. “Dayla, come here and sit on my shoulders.”

He crouched so she could climb on, and he held her legs as he returned to standing. When he swerved to adjust her weight, Dayla yelled and grabbed his hair.

“Ow! I’ve got you. Don’t do that.”

She giggled. “Sorry.”

Levin stood close to the arch while Dayla reached up and grabbed the blue square. “It’s an envelope.” She pulled the tape from the surface, handed it to Rana, and climbed down from Levin’s shoulders.

Rana opened the envelope, removed a yellow paper, and read aloud, “There is a tower at the corner of Arapahoe and 16
th
. There is a backpack on the park side of the tower. Your clue is inside, along with a dye pack set to burst at 8:30. You might want to run.”

Rana yanked her phone from her pocket and checked the time. “It’s 8:21.” She accessed her GPS and entered the intersection. “It’s just over a mile away.” She dropped the envelope and paper and darted away.

“Rana,” Levin yelled, but she didn’t look back.

She ran as fast as her legs allowed towards the tower, wishing she had worn her sneakers. She never ran track while wearing flip-flops. When she turned onto 16
th
Street, she froze to take in the number of people on the sidewalk. No cars drove on the street. Instead, a single bus lane ran in each direction to transport those who didn’t want to walk.

She ran on the bus route running opposite of her direction, jumping onto the sidewalk to let busses pass. She only slowed when cars at cross streets forced her to do so.

Tightness gripped her chest after half a mile of sprinting, but she didn’t relent. When she hopped onto the sidewalk, her sandal caught the curb, and she couldn’t recover her balance. Pain shot through her arm as she skidded to a stop on the sidewalk. A few bystanders gathered around her, but she jumped to her feet and resumed her run, though slower from the limp she now had.

The tower grew larger. She gave a new burst of speed to her effort in spite of the pain in her ankle. She glanced at her phone to check the time: 8:28.

Panting, she rounded the corner of the tower and spotted a black backpack against the wall. A popping sound came from it in the same moment.

“No!”

She rushed to it, fell to her knees, and yanked the zipper open, knowing what she would see but still nervous to discover the contents. A paper sat in the middle of a mess of red ink.

Slumping over the backpack, she cried as Levin’s car stopped on the curb near her.

****

Levin found his sister hunched over a backpack next to the tower. Her back heaved with shaking breaths.

She didn’t make it.

He ran to her, kneeled, and put his arm around her. She flinched.

He pulled back and moved to her other side. A large, bleeding scrape covered much of her upper arm and shoulder. “What the hell happened to you?”

“It’s okay.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“No, it looks awful.”

She lifted the open backpack. “I was too late.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Let’s take it with us. Maybe we can wipe enough off before it dries.” He helped Rana to her feet and led her to the car. He opened the trunk in search of something he could ruin and found a T-shirt his company gave him at a fundraiser.

BOOK: Project Renovatio
4.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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