CHAPTER 15

We tiptoed up the hall, past the engine room, past Mom and Dad’s room, where the snoring inside must have been rattling some of the tribal masks and priceless artifacts mounted on the walls.

We quietly made our way through the white-washed galley and up the creaky wooden stairs to the deck.

Finally, we reached the rubber raft we used to travel ashore.

Mom was there, waiting for us.

“Hi, guys,” she said super-calmly. “Did you want to borrow the boat?”

“Um, sort of,” said Tommy.

“Still thinking about heading back to Cocos Island to pick up all that treasure we left behind?”

The four of us nodded because none of us can ever lie to our mother.

“Very well,” she said, stepping out of the landing craft. “You have a choice. You guys can take this boat and go off on your own, or you can trust that your dad and I might know what’s best—not just for this family but for a whole bunch of other people, too.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The people of Peru. Don’t forget, all that gold was stolen from them centuries ago. Your father and I made some discreet calls through back channels. Our good friend Dr. Maria Solis, a Peruvian anthropologist and archaeologist from the National University of San Marcos, is heading up an expedition that will initiate the recovery on Cocos.”

“Oh,” I said.

“So we’re not just leaving it there sitting in a hole?” said Beck.

Mom smiled. “Nope.”

“Cool,” said Tommy with a yawn. “Let’s skip the island and go to Peru tomorrow. Catch you guys later. I’m sleepy.”

“Yeah,” said Storm. “Me, too.”

“Night, Mom,” I said.

“See you in the morning,” added Beck.

And together we headed back downstairs, trusting that Mom and Dad probably knew what was best.

That’s why they got all those extra votes.