Everyone’s face was sick with worry, and all of them silently blamed one person.

Noodle.

Tom’s parents, Noodle’s mom, and Colby’s nana had been called into the Yonkers Police Station when Tom and Colby hadn’t returned by morning, but what was even worse was that Lieutenant Faber had somehow been tipped off to what happened, and for nearly an hour, the stern-faced police officer had grilled Noodle about his story, forcing him to retrace every detail again and again. With a sinking heart, he had come clean. He had to. Colby and Tom were missing, and he needed to do everything he could to help get them back safe.

The others had listened, stunned, as Noodle described the Firestone photo, the short film, the fat guy from the pet shop who’d kidnapped Colby—and probably now had Tom, too. He’d kept one detail to himself, though. He wouldn’t say a word about the metal box—which, at this moment, was hidden deep inside his clothes hamper—until he could have a word with Tom’s dad alone.

“So. It’s not a history project. It’s a treasure hunt,” Lieutenant Faber concluded once he’d finished.

“A really important, and now possibly extremely dangerous one,” Noodle added.

“But you don’t even know what kind of treasure you’re looking for.” Her eyebrows were arched and her mouth curled as if he’d just told her a really corny joke.

“Well, Tom thinks that the Sub Rosa’s trying to protect some secret from falling into the wrong hands. And that it’s up to us to find it before the bad guys.”

“The bad guys. Oookay.” Faber glanced at her notes, barely listening to Noodle’s story. “And you think that this abductor is after the same thing as you? This … Sub Rosa secret?”

At the word abductor, Colby’s grandmother threw her head into her hands. “Please, please. You must do everything in your power to catch this criminal,” she implored.

“Mrs. McCracken.” Faber passed her a battered box of Kleenex. “I already have an APB out on the missing parties. But within the privacy of this office, I’ve got every reason to believe that this mystery kidnapper doesn’t even exist.” And with another hard look at Noodle, she opened a binder and pulled out a photo of the same leather-bound copy of The Alchemy Treatise that they’d seen at the Metropolitan Museum.

“Two days ago,” she continued as the photo made its way around the room, “this book was stolen from the Keller exhibit at the Met. It’s valued at a quarter million dollars.”

“Hold up!” Noodle popped up from his chair. “We didn’t have anything to do with that—”

“The very same book,” interrupted Faber, “that Mrs. Edison found in her son’s bedroom this morning.”

Noodle turned toward Tom’s mom, whose unhappy face confirmed it.

“Mrs. E! We’re being framed here!”

“I saw it with my own eyes, Bernard.”

“I’m telling you, it was the kidnapper from the pet shop. He probably planted it or something.”

At the word kidnapper, Colby’s grandmother burst into a new round of fresh tears.

“Detective Faber, my son’s not a thief,” protested Tom’s father, shifting uneasily in his chair. “We’re not sure how the book—”

“I’m sure he’s not,” Faber answered calmly. “Which is probably why he ran away. Have there been any big changes at home? Some reason he’d be acting out?”

“His father just took a job in Kansas,” said Mrs. Edison. “Tom isn’t taking the news very well.” Lieutenant Faber nodded, as if that were exactly the kind of information she’d expected.

“You guys aren’t listening! We’re being framed!” Noodle was shouting now, and had to sit on his hands to keep from hopping out of his seat again. But no one was paying him much attention. All the adults seemed to be on Team Faber.

“Sometimes difficult situations cause people—especially young people—to make rash decisions,” the lieutenant continued, undaunted. “I think Tom and Colby have realized the nature of their crime and are hiding.”

“Noodle, please tell us where Colby and Tom are,” Colby’s grandmother pleaded. “I promise, we won’t get angry.”

“For the last time”—Noodle tried to speak evenly, but it was hard to keep his voice from cracking with emotion—“they were kidnapped.”

“Enough already with the theatrics, young man,” Noodle’s mother scolded. “You’re in hot enough water as it is.”

Amid all of the others’ commotion and emotion, Tom’s father remained strangely silent.

“Right now, the important thing is to stay calm.” Faber folded her hands together. “We’ve got a lot of our officers out there, but I’m certain your kids will resurface soon.”

The adults nodded. Noodle clenched his fists. He’d find his friends, without their help. He had to.