“SO . . . you tricked me. You shouted claustrophobia, fully knowing what it would do to me.” Bitsy paced the floor of Room 103 at the Alexander the Great Inn, which didn’t exactly live up to its name. The screen door didn’t close all the way, the hot water was cold, the overhead light buzzed like a flock of bees, and the air conditioner from the diner next door rattled outside the window. Max was sprawled out on a bed, Alex was sitting by his knees with the backpack, and Nigel was doing ankle stretches on the wall.
“I’m sorry, Bits,” Alex said. “But we needed a distraction—”
“No, no . . . it was brilliant!” Bitsy exclaimed.
Max sat up. “It was?”
“Yes,” Bitsy replied. “Finally, something good came of my stupid fears. Do show us the bones, Max.”
Max pulled the vials out of his pack. The bones were floating in water, and everything was suffused in red that seemed deeper than Max remembered.
“This is fascinating,” Nigel said, holding one of the vials up to the light. “We are off to a flying start. Perhaps this search will be easier than we thought.”
“We figured out clue number one,” Alex said, “and we’re going to figure out the others.”
“I want to text Evelyn,” Max said. “But I won’t. I can’t get her hopes up. I’ll wait till we have all five!”
“I suggest we celebrate with some Greek food,” Nigel said. “I shall run next door and bring back an assortment. Any special requests?”
“Do they have Moose Tracks ice cream in Greece?” Max asked.
“Moussaka tracks, maybe,” Nigel said.
“I just lost my appetite,” Bitsy groaned.
As Nigel left, a silence settled over the room. Alex’s eyes were drooping, and Bitsy flopped down onto the floor. Max yawned and fluffed a pillow under his head.
The last thing he saw before falling asleep was Nigel, out the window. He was racing across the parking lot, completely missing the restaurant’s entrance and heading toward the other businesses.
But Nigel was a grown man. He would figure it out.
Several hours later Max awoke with a loud gasp, into pitch darkness.
It took him a moment to remember he was not in the caves. He flicked on a lamp beside his bed. Bitsy and Alex must have gone back to their room. He spotted a handwritten sign on his dresser. He got up to read it.
Your dinner is in the fridge.
No moussaka tracks ice cream,
but that’s OK, b/c no freezer! ☺ —A
Grrroglll, grrrogllled Max’s stomach.
He was starving, so he padded over to the fridge, which was under an old TV. As he pulled out a big white paper bag, the smell of cold souvlaki made his mouth water.
Setting the bag down on his night table, he noticed his backpack was open. The collection canister was still inside, the top off. It was filled with empty vials.
Max remembered taking out one of the vials with the hippo bones. But he’d had three. And there was nothing inside the canister.
He looked under the bed. In the bathroom.
Grabbing his key, he ran out of Room 103, and pounded on the door of 102. “Alex, do you have them?”
The door flew open. With a solid thunk, it caught itself on a short chain. Through the crack of an opening, a man with beard stubble and a white T-shirt barked something in Greek.
“Over here, Max!” whispered Alex’s voice. From Room 104.
“Sorry, bad sense of direction,” Max said to the guy. “Second time today.”
He raced to Alex’s room, and she let him in. A groggy Bitsy was just waking up from the second bed. “Is it morning yet?”
“Almost,” Alex replied, then turned to Max. “Do I have what?”
“The three vials with the hippo bones!” Max said. “They’re not in my room.”
Alex shook her head. “Why would I take that?”
Bitsy was out of bed now, drawing a robe around herself and shoving her feet into slippers. “Nigel delivered the food to you, Max,” she said. “You were fast asleep. Maybe he took them for safekeeping.”
“He should have told me!” Max said.
Alex sighed. “Come on, let’s wake him up and ask him. He’s in 115.”
Alex threw on a robe too, and they all headed to a room at the end of the row. Max reached 115 first and rapped on the door.
“Nigel?” Alex said quietly.
Max knocked again, calling out the name louder.
And again.
To their left, some of the lights were turning on. A voice shouted something in another language. Now the motel desk clerk appeared at the end of the row of rooms, shushing them.
“Our uncle is not answering,” Alex said.
The clerk nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. “Old man, yes? Maybe something happen.”
The clerk walked to the room and knocked on the door sharply, then pulled a key from a large collection on his belt. As he used it to open the door, he flicked on a light.
The room was empty. The bed was made. No one was inside.
“What the—?” Max said.
“Maybe he took a walk?” Bitsy said.
“There’s no place to walk!” Alex snapped. “And all his stuff is gone.”
Max, Alex, and Bitsy scoured the room. But there wasn’t much room to scour. Nigel wasn’t there.
Max ripped back the curtains and glanced out to the parking lot.
The car was gone too.