CHAPTER 27

I whooshed out my breath.

In all the excitement of the last few minutes I’d completely forgotten about our little brother!

“Cat!” he hollered, spotting me in the back of the car. He waved, and I held up my bound hands and waved back, wanting to laugh for joy and at the same time blinking back tears.

A few seconds later he and Olivia were bundled into the backseat alongside me. The janitor put Geoffrey between us, and my stepsister and I bumped heads as we both leaned down at the same time to kiss him. Olivia sat up. “You first,” she said in a low voice, scattering bluebells. Geoffrey’s favorite flower. “He likes you best.” She turned away to face the window, and I heard her mutter, “He doesn’t even know my name.”

Geoffrey heard her too. He pulled his finger out of his mouth. “Livy,” he said.

Olivia turned around again. “G-Man!” she cried, showering him in a drift of rosy apple blossoms. “You know my name!”

“Any diamonds from the short one yet?” asked the pudgy man, hurrying across the garage. “Lotta talking going on in there.”

“Not that I can tell,” the janitor replied

Olivia shot me a warning look as the two men searched the seat around me.

“We need some water first before my sister can make diamonds,” she said quickly. “That’s the only way it works. Gotta keep hydrated.”

The pudgy man looked at her suspiciously. “Okay, then. Water it is.” He snapped his fingers at the janitor again. “You get the luggage; I’ll get the water.” Turning to us, he added, “No funny business, though, or you get the bags-over-the-head routine again, understand? Him, too.” He pointed to Geoffrey, who stuck his finger in his mouth and started sucking on it with vigor.

The two men headed back inside. I didn’t care what Mr. I’m Not Vertically Challenged said, I wasn’t just going to sit here and do nothing. I fumbled for the door handle.

“Cat, wait, listen to me,” said Olivia, her voice low and urgent. “We don’t have much time before they come back.”

I looked over at her, irritated. “What?” A toad popped out and landed on my knee. I brushed it to the floor.

“Cat! No toads!”

What was she talking about?

“It’s my secret weapon!” I protested. “Our ticket to freedom!”

She shook her head. “We have to make them think that you and Geoffrey make diamonds too, and quick. Otherwise …” She paused, then added, “I heard the janitor guy on the phone in there. You have to trust me on this. I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t use the toads. It’s gotta be diamonds, okay? Please, Cat? Trust me?”

I looked at her. Trust Olivia? The one who’d called me “Catbox” in front of the entire school? The one who’d given me the cold shoulder all these years and resented every scrap of attention Iz gave me, and always made sure I never felt welcome? The one who’d stuck duct tape down the middle of our bedroom?

I glanced down at the empty ring finger on her right hand. Olivia couldn’t even bear to keep her “Sisters are forever friends” ring on for a single week, and now she wanted me to trust her?

“Please,” she said again.

A pure white rose fluttered from her lips like a peace offering. I sighed. Olivia’d had to trust me a lot these past couple of days, what with me dragging her out of the house in the middle of a rainstorm, forcing her to come with me to find Great-Aunt Aby, and then abandoning her last night in Las Vegas. Maybe it was my turn to return the favor.

Between us, Geoffrey was watching, round eyed, as toads and gems flew back and forth across the backseat of the car. What choice did I have, really? Our little brother’s safety was at stake. The only way we had even a sliver of a chance of getting ourselves out of this mess was if we worked together as a team.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “But if the right moment comes along, you have to let me improvise.”

She nodded, and I wondered if I’d regret the bargain we’d just struck. When musicians improvise—make it up as they go along—they have to trust their fellow musicians. Could I really trust my stepsister?

“Here,” she said, stuffing my hands with gems. “I made these when I was in the bathroom.”

“Eew,” I replied, and she grinned.

“Shut up—you know what I mean. You get rid of the toads; I’ll pick up the rest.”

By the time our two captors returned, my pockets were full of diamonds and the backseat was cleared of toads—well, all except for one, which had retreated way under the driver’s seat and wouldn’t budge. I was still bent over trying to coax it out when the men got into the car.

I sprang upright the minute the driver’s door opened.

“What are you doing back there?” said the pudgy man, looking at me with suspicion. “You’re not up to something, are you?”

I extended my bound hands slowly and opened one of them. He looked at the pile of gems it contained with greedy delight.

“About time!” He snatched them from me, then suddenly his eyes narrowed and darted from me to Olivia and back again. “Hey—you two aren’t trying to pull a fast one, are you?”

I’d been expecting this. I shook my head, then ventured the slightest of coughs, hoping it wouldn’t spark a toad. I was in luck; it didn’t. Delicately I plucked out the diamond I’d popped into my mouth a minute ago and held it up smugly.

“Holy cow, we hit the jackpot!” he crowed. “Two for the price of one!”

“I told you so,” said the janitor. “The research specialists thought maybe it ran in the family.”

Olivia’s eyes widened.

“What?” I mouthed.

She shook her head at me. “Later,” she whispered.

The pudgy man turned around again. “So, what about the kid, then?” he demanded. “When does he start cranking them out?”

Croak.

He frowned. “Did you hear that?” he asked the janitor.

“Hear what, boss?”

Croak.

Olivia and I sat rooted to our seats, aghast. This was not good. If our captors found the toad, there would be questions, and eventually they’d get the truth out of us. The pudgy man opened the driver’s side door and started to get out.

“Frog!” said Geoffrey happily, pointing to the floor.

Thinking quickly, I leaned over and slipped another diamond out of the cuff of my hoodie. Then I sat up again, holding it in the air triumphantly, as if I’d just picked it up off the floor.

“Hey, check it out, boss, the little guy makes ’em too,” said the janitor.

“Looks like this is my lucky day,” said the pudgy man, forgetting all about the croaking toad. “Runs in the family, eh?” He closed the SUV door again. “Then we’re just gonna be one big happy family.” He whistled as he started the engine.

“Are we there yet?” asked Geoffrey hopefully.

“For Pete’s sake, kid, we haven’t even left yet,” said the janitor.

As we backed out of the garage, Geoffrey started looking anxious, as he always does on car trips. Olivia gave his hand a reassuring pat.

“You might want to roll the windows down a little,” she told our captors. “Our little brother gets carsick.”

“Great,” muttered the pudgy man, pressing a button up front. The tinted rear windows each descended an inch.

Olivia started to sing. She actually had a good voice, and I wondered why she wasn’t in the Hawk Creek Chorus. That would be so much better than her lame tap dance troupe.

She sang the theme song to Robo Rooster, and as she sang, Geoffrey stuck his finger back in his mouth and started swinging his chubby legs in time to the music. I shot her a grateful look. She was doing her best to keep our little brother calm and happy.

“How come you’re not singing?” the pudgy man asked, frowning at me in the rearview mirror as we got onto the freeway again.

I grabbed my throat, miming thirst.

“Oh, yeah, right.” He snapped his fingers at his companion. “She needs more water.”

The janitor opened a bottle and passed it over the back of his seat to me. I took it and sipped slowly, stalling for time. This was going to be tricky. Olivia sang louder, as if to make up for my silence.

“So sing already,” said the pudgy man, still watching me.

What on earth was I going to do? I couldn’t keep stalling forever. Olivia shot me a worried look. Then I remembered—whistling didn’t produce toads! I took one more sip of water, managing to slurp up another diamond from inside my cuff as I did so.

I started to whistle. I whistled along for about a minute, then stopped, as if in surprise.

“Did you make one?” he asked, looking at me keenly.

I nodded and opened my mouth, extending my tongue. On the end of it was the diamond.

“That’s more like it.” His fat little hand whipped back and grabbed it.

Pipsqueak, I thought, scowling out the window.

I heard the rapid click of the blinker, and the SUV slowed as we approached a four-way stop. I looked at the street sign. Skyline. My heart sank. Skyline led to Cornelius Pass Road, the cutoff from Portland’s West Hills down to the river, where our “transport” was waiting—the boat that would spirit us away from our family forever.

Wasn’t this also the road that led to Iz’s favorite berry farm, though, the one she took us to every summer to help pick berries for pies and jam? It was—I was sure of it! The people there were so nice—maybe this was the break I’d been hoping for. What if we could get our captors to pull over near it somehow? Could we take a chance and make a run for it?

It’s not like we had anything to lose. Not with a voyage to permanent exile on the horizon.

All we needed was a diversion.

No problem, I thought. Time to break out the toads.

I glanced over at Olivia, trying to catch her eye.

“‘Robo Rooster, he’s the one,’” she sang, heedless of my frantic hand motions. With all this singing, she was nearly up to her knees in flowers and gems. “‘He makes sure we all have fun!’” She rested her fingers on the top of the open window as she sang.

In the front seat the pudgy man’s head bobbed in time to the music.

I flicked a glance out the window. We were getting closer. The sun had come out; it was turning into a beautiful day. The suburbs melted away as the road pushed deeper into the countryside, and soon we were winding through a patchwork of fields and forest. Up ahead I saw a homemade sign nailed to a tree that proclaimed FRESH BERRIES—ONE MILE AHEAD!

Ahead in the distance I could see the roof of the berry farm’s red barn. I prodded Olivia with my foot. She looked over at me, and I motioned with my chin toward the sign, then mimed picking berries and eating them. She watched me, puzzled. I jerked my chin at the pudgy man behind the wheel, pantomiming him steering off the side of the road, then pointed at the berry farm again. My stepsister’s face clouded with confusion as she looked from one to the other, trying to decipher what I was telling her. This wasn’t working! I pointed frantically at the toad still crouched under the passenger seat ahead of me then back at myself, and light finally dawned in her eyes.

She gave me a thumbs-up with her bound hands and started singing again.

The mission was on! Toad minus one mile and counting.

The SUV slowed as we approached a series of switchbacks that led down the hill to the farm. As we swerved first one way and then the other, I glanced at Geoffrey. He was pale as milk, and his face had that pinched, anxious expression it always gets right before he barfs.

Suddenly I had a better idea. Forget the toads. The real secret weapon was my little brother.

I stuck my leg out and prodded Olivia again, then pointed to Geoffrey. Our eyes met over the top of his head and we both smiled.

“How come you stopped singing?” demanded the pudgy man.

My stepsister swung into yet another chorus of “Robo Rooster,” and I whistled along, biding my time. Any minute now for sure. The barn ahead was calling me like a beacon, a lighthouse in a field of green. We slowed to a crawl, and with each hairpin turn, we grew closer to our destination, and Geoffrey grew slightly greener around the gills.

The farm was just ahead now, and the SUV swerved again sharply as it made the final turn. Geoffrey pulled his finger out of his mouth. “Are we there yet?” he asked weakly.

“Now!” I cried.

Olivia and I held Geoffrey by the shoulders and leaned him forward, pointing him at the pudgy man behind the wheel.

Right on cue, the Barf Bucket delivered.