Mrs. Lindstrom briefed Melody on McAllister’s whereabouts.
“He has various hideaways around the country, as you know,” Mrs. Lindstrom said. “But our informants tell us that he’s bunked up in the Alligator Kingdom.”
Melody shuddered.
“That place is a fortress,” she observed.
Mrs. Lindstrom nodded. “It makes Fort Knox seem like a neighborhood candy store. Jacques Le Jacques is very powerful and very paranoid—a combination that leads to the highest security level possible.”
“Do we smoke him out?” Melody asked. “Or do you advise that we infiltrate the place?”
Mrs. Lindstrom looked grave. “I’m not sure there’s a way to get him out … so you’re going to have to go in.”
“Got it,” Melody said. There was no point in arguing. An assignment was an assignment.
As soon as she was off the comm with Mrs. Lindstrom, she loaded up the Adventurers’ dossier on Jacques Le Jacques. He was a renowned alligator wrestler who’d found fame and fortune in reality TV, parlaying that fame and fortune into being elected governor of Florida for two years. He only left office after being caught using state money to construct monuments to his favorite alligators, to be placed around his fortress. His emotional press conference admitting his misdeeds caused one of Melody’s favorite newspaper headlines ever: ALLIGATOR TEARS: Embezzler Tearfully Admits to Being Governor of Florida.
Rick and Oliver were in a good mood on returning from their grocery run—a mood entirely related to all the chips, soda, and cheese they’d purchased. The mood slipped, though, when they came into the RV and saw Melody’s expression.
“We’re going to have to drain the swamp,” she informed them, then explained their next mission.
Rick took it in stride, but Oliver looked haunted. He quickly excused himself, saying he’d put the groceries away.
Melody knew there was a story here that she hadn’t yet been told.
“What’s going on?” she asked Rick.
She could see the seconds it took for Rick to remind himself that he trusted her.
“It’s Florida,” he said. “That’s where Oliver’s parents … abandoned him. He was found in a booth in a Denny’s. Nobody saw who left him there. One of the waiters took him home and raised him until he got into the finishing school.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s even worse. For the first few years of his life, they named him Denny.”
“No.”
“Yeah. Kinda hard to forget what happened that way, you know? Once he learned that wasn’t his actual name, he made them change it.”
“Weird.”
“It actually gets weirder.”
“How?”
Rick sighed. “Okay—but you can’t let him know I told you.”
“Of course,” Melody swore.
“The only reason I’m telling you is—well, you’ll figure it out soon enough. You know how sometimes they sell alligator heads? Like, small ones to use as paperweights, big ones to hang on your wall or something?”
“Is that really a thing people do?”
“In Florida, yes. Just picture it—an alligator head, its jaws intact. Glass eyes. Dried-out skin.”
“Okay, I get the picture.”
“Well, when Oliver was found … whoever left him at Denny’s left him in the mouth of an alligator head.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. Pretty twisted. But the teeth hadn’t been clamping on him for too long. There aren’t any marks. I checked.”
“How does he know this?”
Rick shook his head sadly. “People took pictures. Like, they just stood there and took pictures until that waiter saw what was happening, rushed over, and saved Oliver.”
“Do you think there’s some connection to Jacques Le Jacques?”
Rick shrugged, then said, “I don’t think so. I mean, there are plenty of people in Florida who wrestle alligators, right? The point is, Oliver feels weird about going back to Florida. Because the kind of person who leaves a baby in an alligator’s mouth in a booth at Denny’s isn’t likely to leave Florida.”
“Should I tell Mrs. Lindstrom? Get him reassigned?”
Now Rick looked horrified. “No way. We can’t do this without him. Mrs. Lindstrom knows that. She knows all of this. And Oliver is an Adventurer—he’ll put his personal baggage aside for the mission. I’m sure of it.”
Melody thought this sounded right, from what she knew of Oliver. Which meant that both she and Rick were surprised by Oliver’s reaction when they finally went to the kitchen to talk to him about it.
“I don’t get it,” Oliver said, slamming a canister of frosting onto the RV’s small kitchen counter. “When did being an Adventurer become about chasing down evil people? Why can’t we just have a fun adventure every now and then? We’re called the Adventurers. Not the Rescuers. Not the World Savers. Or the …”
“Bad Guy Catchers?” Rick offered.
“Exactly!” Oliver said, triumphant.
“But the two go hand in hand,” Melody said.
Both Rick and Oliver turned to her and said, “What?”
“You can’t have adventures without freedom,” Melody pointed out. “And you can’t have freedom if you’re not willing to defend it from the people who want to take it away.”
“You’re not even an Adventurer,” Oliver scoffed. “You talk to headquarters. You go along with us. But you refuse to join up. So how can you talk?”
“Because I don’t believe you have to belong to any group to have adventures,” Melody said calmly. “And I don’t believe you should have to join any organization in order to have freedom.”
Rick could see Oliver taking this in, and stayed silent, wondering what his friend would say next.
Oliver reached onto the kitchen counter for a bag of Hint of Lime Tostitos, popped it open, and offered it to Melody and Rick.
“Fine,” he said. “I get it. We stop McAllister once and for all.”
“Even if it means going to Florida?” Rick asked carefully.
Oliver nodded decisively. “Even if it means going to Florida. Let’s wrestle some gators.”