Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula (37 page)

BOOK: Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula
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Dad never saw his masked abductors, but he mentioned they spoke Spanish. Professor Phillips believed these men had also abducted her for King, because the last thing she remembered was letting a South American janitor push a trash can on wheels into her lab, and the smell of chloroform. I would put ten bucks down that he had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, puffing sweet-smelling smoke all over the lab before wheeling the professor out of the building in the trash can, while Miss Heart held the door wide open.

When Dad mentioned the “lucky break” of getting the guns, I felt like I was turning a shade of green. Though tormented by those prints, I consoled myself with the thought that since I had no criminal past and my fingerprints weren’t in a police database, for now the prints from the guns would remain unidentified. At least, that’s what I thought. It would have been nice to have someone to talk this over with—which brings me to Emery.

Tuesday afternoon, he had called our house. Nate picked up the call on the handset in the family room. After briefly talking with Nate, Emery asked for me. I took the handset from my twin, forcing a neutral expression. Neutral was hardly what I felt.

“Hi,” I said into the receiver, eyeing Nate. He lounged on the sectional across from me, flipping through the TV Guide.

“Cassidy, I don’t have much time. We won’t be able to talk again for the next two or three days.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Do you remember my promise to you?”

How could I forget?
“Yes.”

“Good. Could you do one thing for me?”

I’d do anything for you!
“Sure.”

“Don’t go to school for the remainder of the week.”

Oops. Can’t do that
. “Sure. I’ll tell Miriam ‘hi’ tomorrow
at
school.”

Nate grinned down at the TV Guide when I said this.

There was a long pause. During this silence, I listened to Emery’s steady breathing, longing to see him, longing to know what his mom could do for me. This was the mission now, right? Helping Cassidy.

“This is what I want you to do,” he eventually began, “whenever your emotions begin to get the best of you, picture Robin in your head.”

Now, that was just cruel and not at all what I hoped to hear. “Okay. Anything else?”

“Yes. Work off the excess energy late at night in your room. It will help you cope better the next day.”

“Got it. Anything
more
?”

“I’m sorry…That’s all for now.”

“Too bad,” I said, fighting back tears. “Um, I should go.”

“Cassidy, don’t forget my promise.”

My eyes misted up. “I won’t.”

“Don’t forget to visualize Robin. And working off the excess.”

“Okay,” I said, my voice breaking. Nate glanced up at me. “Take care, Emery.”

“You have my cell phone number. Call if something urgent comes up.”

My whole life is urgent
, I thought desperately, but only said, “All right. Bye.” I hung up, wanting to collapse into a hopeless heap. Instead, I just stared at the handset in my hand.
What am I going to do?

 
“You okay, Cass?”

I looked up at my twin’s concerned face. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, drumming up a smile. “Anything good on?”

He tossed me the TV Guide. “You choose.” Looking away, he turned on the television. I had never felt so alone and scared.

 

~~~

 

For the next three days, my feelings and thoughts swung from one end of the pendulum to the other. One second I’d be hopeful, sure Professor Phillips would suddenly show up at my front door and tell me all would be well, and then the next I’d be convinced Emery was a no-good liar and that they had skipped town, leaving me to deal with this nightmare on my own. Even in my darkest moments, I resisted calling Emery. There was a reason he couldn’t call me, and no matter what my emotions dictated, I instinctively knew the wisest thing to do was to be patient, to wait, no matter how excruciating waiting was.

So I trudged on, employing Emery’s coping strategies and trying to ignore the fact that school life had become like living in a fishbowl. Between breaking Robin’s nose and Dad’s kidnapping, there was no under-the-radar for Cassidy Jones. Knowing the boy who had held a gun on two henchmen didn’t help my desire to remain inconspicuous, either. Emery’s heroism, coupled with his humbling of Dixon Pilchowski, had made him a legend at Queen Anne High School. I just wondered when I’d see this legend again.

Friday afternoon answered that question.

When Miriam and I turned onto our street Friday after school and I caught sight of the huge moving van parked in front of the rental, I knew Emery’s word was golden.
It has to be them
, I thought, trying to mask my excitement. If Miriam caught wind Emery could possibly be our new neighbor, she would race me down the street. She’d had Emery Phillips on the brain since he “rescued” her.

Playing it cool as we walked at a painfully slow pace, I said, “Oh, look. New renters.” At that moment, Dad crossed the street from our house. He paused at the front of the van, extending his hand to someone out of view. I was dying to listen in, but Miriam was talking.


Gosh
, I hope a super cute boy is moving in,” she said at the end of her ramble, grabbing hold of her front gate. “We need some excitement around here.”

“I’m going to talk to my dad,” I told her quickly, ready to break into a run. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Call me if there’s a boy, especially if he’s hot,” she unabashedly called after me.

I raised my hand in acknowledgement, while tuning in to Dad’s voice, catching the tail end of his sentence. “—great family neighborhood.”

A deep masculine voice smoothly answered, “Yes, this is obviously a friendly neighborhood. I feel at home already.” In his voice, I picked up a touch of sarcasm, though his easy cadence covered it well. “My work requires me to travel quite a bit, and after what we’ve been through, it will be a comfort to know such a wonderful family will be looking out for mine when I’m not here.”

The talker shifted, moving into my view. With a gasp, I skidded to a stop, almost falling on my backside. A supersized Emery looked from Dad to me. That is, a supersized Emery who had lost a UFC fight. The guy’s face showed evidence of having received some serious blows.

“Drake, is that your daughter?”

Turning, Dad looked at me standing in the middle of the street. He grinned. “Cassidy, come over. I’d like you to meet our new neighbor.” He said this like I didn’t have eyes.

Forcing a smile, I moved toward them. Emery was the spitting image of his father. They shared the same black hair and eyes, fair complexion, and lofty build. Of course, his father’s features were more mature, with prominent cheekbones, a strong chin, broad shoulders, and muscular chest under the navy blue v-neck sweater. Breathtakingly handsome, the guy definitely crunched more than numbers. Even the bruises, gouged lower lip, and gauze bandage slanted across his forehead didn’t take away from his looks, but did, however, suggest Mr. Phillips was involved in some risky “accounting” business.

His smile was friendly as I stopped by my dad’s side. Both Dad and I had to crane our necks to look into his face. His assessing gaze settled on me, making my heart feel like it was attempting escape. It didn’t pound because of the man’s utter beauty or roughed-up appearance; it pounded because of the danger that radiated from him. Mysterious Mr. Phillips was just plain scary.

Clearly not sensing “danger,” Dad made introductions, pleased as punch. “Cassidy, I would like you to meet Gavin Phillips, Emery’s dad.”

Again, did he think I was blind? Trying to look surprised, I untangled my tongue. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Phillips.”

Smiling, he extended his hand, which I timidly took. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Cassidy.” He squeezed my hand. I wondered if this was like an eyewink, letting me know he was in on my little secret. “Emery has talked about you nonstop.”

“He has?” I could feel the confusion on my face.
If Mr. Phillips knows, why would he single me out in front of Dad?
Wouldn’t the goal be not to bring attention to me?

His eyes narrowed on my face, but his expression remained amiable. “You seem surprised by all this. Didn’t Emery mention when you called last night that our application had been accepted for this rental?”

Huh?
“That wasn’t me, Mr. Phillips. I haven’t talked to Emery since Tuesday.”

His scrutiny deepened. “Not since Tuesday?”

What is this? A cross-examination?
I asked myself, staring at him bewildered. Suddenly, it dawned on me that was exactly what this was.
He doesn’t know
, I realized.
He’s putting pieces together, comparing
information. Why wouldn’t his wife and son tell him about me?

Knowing there wasn’t time to speculate, only to throw this fox off my trail, I thought fast. “Not since Tuesday,” I confirmed. “He called Nate, and I answered the phone.” To my dismay, I blushed. I could feel Dad’s eyes on my face, curiously observing me.

Mr. Phillips took note of the blush, too. Then he switched tactics. “Emery is eager to start school with you on Monday,” he said, smiling.

Shocked, I asked, “With me?”

“Yes, Cassidy,” he replied, studying my face. “I registered him this morning. You’ll have five classes together.”

“Gavin, why would Emery attend high school?” Dad inquired, puzzled.

Surprise crossed Mr. Phillips’s face, but then his features relaxed. “I understand the confusion now. Please forgive me. I wasn’t aware my son mentioned his academic achievements to you. He is usually very modest about them.” The easy smile reappeared. “Allow me to explain what’s behind the madness. Being with your family, Drake, and attending school with you, Cassidy, made Emery realize how much he’s missed out. His mother and I wanted to give him a chance to recoup what he lost not being with kids his own age. When he mentioned the house across from yours was for rent, we recognized this as the perfect opportunity.” He gestured, unenthused, toward his new home.

Something told me there was not a lot of “we” in the decision. “What about Stanford?” I asked quickly.

“Stanford is on hold, which I must admit, pleases me. Emery
is
only fifteen.” He paused, and then continued carefully, “I hope, Cassidy, you and your brother will be sensitive to the situation and not mention to your classmates Emery’s accomplishments. It is extremely important that he fits in.”

“We won’t,” I assured him, hoping guilt wasn’t etched on my face. If I had been aware of the extremes Emery planned to go, I would have absolved him of his promise. “Uh, Mr. Phillips, is he here now?”

“Yes, he’s helping his mother set up her lab.”

“Here?” I squeaked.

“Yes, my wife has moved her lab here,” he confirmed, staring at me. “I know he would like to see you. Why don’t I take you down?” He smiled at Dad. “Drake, if that’s all right with you.”

“Of course. I’d like to say hello to Serena and Emery myself, but unfortunately, I’m due back at the station.” Dad offered his hand to Mr. Phillips. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Gavin.”

Firmly shaking Dad’s hand, Mr. Phillips replied, “Thank you for everything. I won’t forget what you’ve done for my family.”

 

BOOK: Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula
12.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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