Once Upon a Toad (25 page)

I heard the helicopter's engine roar to life, and a breeze kicked up as the rotor blades began to spin. I began to struggle, but the pilot still had tight hold of me with one hand.

“Do something!” I hollered at my great-aunt, launching another toad. The rotors were whipping around now at full speed, and Fake Elvis reached up to grab his black pompadour wig as it was knocked askew.

As the helicopter lifted skyward, I shrieked, spattering the rooftop of the Tunnel of Love with terrified toads. The chopper gave a lurch and I finally managed to twist free, but at the same time I lost my grip on the landing skid. I flailed wildly for a second, then somehow managed to grab hold of Fake Elvis's grand entrance rope. In a flash I found myself swinging wildly back and forth at the end of it as the helicopter continued to rise into the air.

So much for improvising,
I thought. I'd gotten myself into a real fix this time.

“Hold fast, Catriona!” Great-Aunt Abyssinia shouted up at me. “Hold fast!”

My birthday necklace had slipped out from under my T-shirt, and I clutched instinctively at its golden charm.
Hold fast
. What exactly did those engraved words mean, anyway? Just what was I supposed to hold fast to? And why didn't Great-Aunt Aby hurry up and turn this stupid helicopter into a pumpkin or something?

“That's a great idea!” she bellowed, her front teeth making their own grand entrance as she grinned up at me.

I was directly above her now. I took a deep breath. Maybe Great-Aunt Aby was occupationally challenged, and maybe she was scatterbrained and unreliable and really, really odd, but she was my fairy godmother and she was family, and it was time to take a leap of faith and trust her.

Holding fast to my necklace, I let go of the rope.

CHAPTER 24

I opened my eyes and lay still for a long moment, trying to get my bearings.

There wasn't a speck of neon in sight; just ordinary daylight. I sat up and looked out the window, rubbing my eyes. Outside lay a familiar expanse of green, with the snowcapped peak of Mount Hood hovering on the far horizon. Just beyond the curb where the RV was parked was row upon row of lush, colorful blooms.

“The Rose Garden,” I whispered, my hand automatically cupping my chin to catch the unavoidable toad.

We were home!

Maybe last night's wild ride in Vegas was all a dream,
I thought. Then I turned and saw Elvis asleep in Great-Aunt Aby's armchair.

Or not.

“Well, whaddya know,” Pearl exclaimed as she, too, opened her eyes and sat up. “We're back in Oregon.”

The door to the RV flew open and Great-Aunt Abyssinia breezed in carrying a bag of doughnuts and a cardboard tray with five steaming paper cups. “Rise and shine, ladies and Elvis,” she said cheerily. “Busy day ahead. Let's see here, I have two hot chocolates”—she passed Olivia and me each a cup—“and a double cappuccino for you, Pearl. Your favorite, right?”

“How did you know?”

Great-Aunt Aby flapped her hand dismissively. “You talk in your sleep.” She nudged the sleeping Elvis impersonator's shoulder, and he jolted upright, regarding her with reproachful eyes.

“You kidnapped me!” he said as she took off his gag.

“Nonsense,” Great-Aunt Aby replied. “Consider it a free vacation. Who wouldn't want to travel to beautiful Portland, Oregon?” She thrust a paper cup into his bound hands. “Nonfat half-caff caramel macchiato, extra hot, extra foam.”

He blinked at her, speechless.

“You can thank me later.” Pulling the stool out from under the table, my great-aunt lowered her giant frame onto it and took a sip from her own cup. “And for me, a soy latte.” She grinned at the four of us. “Full house this morning. I can't remember the last time we had this much company, can you, Archie?”

Archibald, who hadn't taken his eyes off the toad I was holding in my hand since it appeared, twitched his tail.

“Catriona, honey, why don't you pass me that critter so I can put it outside,” said my great-aunt, putting her finger to her lips. Her big teeth were nowhere in sight. “Safer for the little thing that way.”

“And for the rest of us,” said Pearl with a shudder. “Toads are
definitely not my favorite thing to wake up to in the morning. How about you, Elvis?”

Our sequin-spangled visitor looked from her to Great-Aunt Aby to me and back again in bewilderment. “All shook up,” he said.

“Of course you are,” said Great-Aunt Aby soothingly. “Don't worry, this is a round-trip vacation. We'll be sending you home again to Las Vegas shortly.”

Pearl swung her legs over the edge of the RV's sofa and stood up. “Did you—I mean did we—”

“Yep,” said Great-Aunt Abyssinia. “You four slept through the whole trip.”

“What about my car?”

“The Red Rocket is safe and sound,” my great-aunt assured her. “She's still hooked to my trailer hitch.”

Pearl went over to the window to check. “Well, whaddya know,” she said again.

I had the distinct feeling that my great-aunt wasn't telling the whole truth. I didn't recall driving anywhere last night. In fact, except for the showdown at the Tunnel of Love Wedding Chapel—especially the part where Great-Aunt Aby caught me after I let go of the rope—I didn't recall much of anything about last night. From the look on his face, I didn't think Fake Elvis did either.

“Switch on that TV, would you, Pearl?” said Great-Aunt Aby.

Pearl did as she was asked, and a familiar face flashed onscreen. It was the reporter who'd turned up on our doorstep the night Olivia spit out the diamond after the talent show.

“Good news this morning, folks! Diamond Girl has been found!”

I leaped to my feet, spilling my hot chocolate. My father had gotten my note!

“She and her sister were discovered last night hiding in Forest Park. Apparently the poor things had been rattled by all the, uh, media attention”—she had the grace to look a little sheepish at this—“but all's well that ends well, and they're safe and sound again at home with their parents.”

“Clock's a-ticking, everyone,” said Great-Aunt Abyssinia. “The mission is a go and we're at T minus one hour and counting.” She crooked her finger at Fake Elvis. “You—come with me. How would you like to earn some real bling to go with that outfit?”

He glanced down at his white jumpsuit, looking confused. My great-aunt held out her hand, and Olivia obligingly sang the alphabet, filling her palm with glittering gems.

“You're Diamond Girl!” Fake Elvis said, staring at her in amazement.

My stepsister curtsied primly.

“And you're her sister,” he said, taking a closer look at me and putting two and two together. “I thought you were a boy.”

Olivia grinned and I stuck my tongue out at her.

“Well, she's not,” said Pearl. “This here's Cat, and that there's Olivia, and their little brother has been kidnapped. We're fixing to get him back.”

Fake Elvis looked confused. “But the TV just said—”

My great-aunt flapped a big hand at him. “It's a ruse,” she explained. “All part of the plan—Catriona's plan, that is.” She beamed at me. “If the kidnappers thought the girls were still missing, they wouldn't bother showing up at the rendezvous this morning.”

He frowned.

“We could use some extra help,” Great-Aunt Aby continued. “We're heading for the zoo in an hour.” She pointed at his feet. “You'll want to change out of those nice blue suede shoes, though. There may be some penguin poo involved.”

Fake Elvis looked alarmed at this news, and Great-Aunt Abby patted his arm consolingly.

“I have a pair of hiking boots I think will fit you,” she told him, which only seemed to confuse him further.

Playing her winning card, my great-aunt stretched out her palm. The sparkling stones made a tantalizing pile. “They're yours if you care to join us.”

Her offer seemed to clear our guest's head. He got to his feet, nodding vigorously.

“Thought so,” Great-Aunt Aby replied, a note of triumph in her voice.

As we all scattered to get dressed, I sent a text to A.J.
: Back in Portland. Not sure how.

Me neither, he texted back. According to FGPS, U made the trip from Vegas in 12.3 seconds.

I stared at the cell phone screen. Great-Aunt Abyssinia definitely wasn't telling the whole truth. There had to have been a wand involved here somewhere. No way had we gone a thousand miles in 12.3 seconds. Not even if this RV had wings.

Did u see the news this morning?

Apparently you've been found. Congratulations.

Yep. Connor came through,
I replied.
Did u let Hawkwinds know the plan?

Yes,
A.J. replied.
All systems go.

Back at the campground yesterday, before the unscheduled
Vegas detour and our apparently near-instantaneous return trip to Portland, Great-Aunt Aby and Pearl and Olivia and I had worked out a strategy for this morning. I'd texted the details to A.J. and asked him to arrange some backup at the penguin exhibit. We all agreed that the Hawkwinds, plus Connor, were our best bet, since they already knew what was going on, and since they'd already be at the zoo on the field trip.

I slipped Connor's cell phone into my pocket and waited my turn for the bathroom, where I changed back into my Olivia's-little-brother disguise. It probably wouldn't fool anybody for too long—especially not the FBI agents who would be crawling all over the zoo—but it was better than nothing.

When I was finished, I knocked on the door to my great-aunt's bedroom.

“Come in!” she said.

Great-Aunt Abyssinia was standing in front of the mirror, holding up earrings and turning her head this way and that. “Parrots or pineapples?”

“Uh,” I said. They were both hideous. Thrift-store finds, most likely.

“Yep,” she said, putting both pairs away. “You're right.” She bent down and grabbed my latest toad, then popped it out the window. “They wouldn't go with my outfit anyway.”

She'd traded her purple fleece for a large navy blue one-piece coverall. It looked like something a mechanic might wear, especially with the hiking boots.

“You all need to see this,” called Pearl from the RV's living room.

We joined her in front of the TV, where she was watching a news update. She pointed wordlessly at the screen. On it was a picture of a giant pumpkin.

My eyes widened as I realized that the pumpkin was perched on the roof of the Tunnel of Love. A white rat ran frantic circles around the base of it.

I gave my great-aunt an admiring look. This was more like it!

“Sometimes I get things right,” she whispered smugly.

“No one knows just how the pumpkin got here,” said the reporter as the camera zoomed in for a closer look. “The Tunnel of Love is temporarily closed until city workers finish clearing it away, but as a thank-you to any wedding parties who rebook, the management is offering free pumpkin pies while supplies last.”