What Could Go Wrong? (13 page)

Eddie grinned. “Think of it as an investment in our futures—like staying alive, right? Your dad would approve of
that,
I think. Go ahead, get the shorts. It makes a great outfit. If those guys look at your clothes they'll go blind and won't be able to see your face.”

“They'll still see his hair,” I pointed out. Not many people had that kind of red curly hair. “And your hair shows through the top of that visor cap you've got on, so one of those won't help.”

“Wait a minute. I think I saw some visor
caps that aren't open on the top,” Eddie said, darting off into a side aisle. “Yeah, here, how about this one?”

It was orange, and it looked horrible with the shirt and the shorts, but it did cover Charlie's hair. I had to close my eyes, thinking about it, and he didn't even have the new clothes on yet.

“As many weirdos as there are walking around this place,” Eddie observed, his gaze following a couple of girls with spiky hairdos, one in pink and the other in blue and green (my mom once threatened to shave my head if I ever turned up looking like that), “nobody will notice us at all in these outfits.”

The total price, when the clerk filled out the slip for the credit card purchase, was high enough to make me wince. I hoped Uncle Jim would be understanding about it when the bill came in. The clerk must have been used to strange purchases, because she didn't comment on them.

“We'll change in the rest rooms,” Charlie said, taking charge at once as we left the gift shop, “and put our other clothes and Gracie's
flight bag into one of those lockers, so we won't have anything to carry that might be recognized.”

We looked different, all right, when we regrouped ten minutes later. “The trouble is,” I said, “we're still three kids—two boys and a girl—and that's going to make us suspect right there, isn't it?”

For once I'd thought of something that hadn't occurred to Charlie. “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe we better split up.”

Alarmed, I said, “Don't dump me off by myself again, not if you're going to keep track of me the way you did the last time. That guy could have killed me and escaped before either one of you even yelled for a security patrol.”

“Gosh, Gracie, you keep having these gruesome ideas,” Charlie chided, as if I were a little kid. “I'm surprised at the kind of TV your folks must let you watch.”

I sounded grim. “It's the kind of thing you see on the news all the time. Gruesome things happen, every day, to perfectly ordinary people.”

He didn't argue with that. “I'll hang behind,
then, and keep my eye out. You and Eddie go together, and we'll look for The Enemy.” The boys had picked up my phrase for Mr. Upton and the guy in the Hawaiian shirt. “But first let's get rid of this stuff. We can put our bags in one of those lockers over there, but it won't hold all of this, too, so we'll have to rent another one. Anybody got any more change? I've only got a quarter.”

Our plan was, first, to find The Enemy. Then we were to watch them, follow them if necessary, and see where they went and what they did.

So we stowed our stuff and started strolling along the concourse, Eddie and I ahead, Charlie some distance behind on the other side, all of us checking the business places to see if we could spot The Enemy.

The P.A. system made an announcement every few minutes. It wasn't always easy to understand, and I hoped that if Aunt Molly called for us we'd hear it. What I most fervently hoped, as a matter of fact, was that I'd hear her paging us before we found The Enemy. She'd know what to do when we told
her what was going on, and unlike the police, she'd probably believe us.

We went all the way out to where we'd have to pass out of one of the security checkpoints without seeing either of the men, and turned around to make another pass along the concourse. As we passed a bank of vending machines a man in a gray suit was buying a paper; he pocketed his change and folded the paper, turning just before we reached him, and met my eyes for just a second.

Something twitched inside me in sudden consternation. Eddie seemed to know, though I hadn't made any sound; he stooped to retie his shoelace, speaking out of the corner of his mouth in a hoarse whisper. “What's the matter? You see 'em?”

“No.” I walked on a few steps before I paused and waited for him to catch up. “No, but I think maybe they've called in reinforcements.”

I had to reach out and grab his arm to keep him from turning around.

“Yeah? Who? Where?”

“The way that man looked at me. As if he
knew
me, only I never saw him before. The one in the gray suit. Don't be obvious about looking at him, okay?”

When we both turned, ever so casually, the man was consulting his watch and didn't appear to be paying any attention to us at all. But I knew. He was quite aware of us, and it made my throat tighten up so it was difficult to speak. “Can't you feel it? Like—like cold air coming from him!”

Eddie licked his lips. “No. Maybe he gave you a funny look because he doesn't like kids. Or he thinks your outfit is freaky. Something like that. Come on, let's test it.”

“How?” I asked stupidly. All I could think of was that we were surrounded by enemies, and Aunt Molly still hadn't come to rescue us.

“Let's go in that restaurant. Pretend we're going to eat. See what he does. Look, we can go in that door and wait a minute, then come out the other one over there.”

I caught a glimpse of Charlie, pretending to be reading something in a window a hundred yards away. Did he notice where we were going? I wondered, heart fluttering.

There were plenty of people in the restaurant, but that didn't make me feel any better. A gangster wouldn't worry about crowds; he'd do whatever he wanted to do. At least that was the way it was in the movies.

The man in the gray suit didn't follow us inside. But when we came out the other door a few minutes later and headed rapidly away from him, he began to stroll after us. I saw him reflected in a window, and put down an urge to run.

Eddie was chewing on his lower lip. “Geez, maybe you're right. He
does
seem to be following us. Let's be absolutely sure. Let's do an abrupt turnaround and walk the other way. If he's not interested in us he won't pay any attention. People are doing crazier things than that on every side of us.”

Of course it would look suspicious if the man had any reason to be suspicious, but I didn't have any better idea. When Eddie said loudly, “I must have dropped that five-dollar bill! Let's go back and see if it's on the floor in that restaurant!” and swung around, I went with him.

We took the man in the gray suit by surprise. He was looking right at us, and though his gaze immediately went through us, past us, neither Eddie nor I had any doubt. He
was
watching us. We didn't look to see if he turned, so we didn't know until we got back to where Charlie was looking at an exhibit of Indian artifacts that the man had stopped and was again checking the time and pretending
not
to be watching us.

“What's going on?” Charlie hissed, not getting too close to us when we paused. “Who's
that
guy?”

“He
is
following us,” I said. “Isn't he?”

“Looks like it to me. Who the heck is he?”

“We don't know. He looked right at me, Charlie, and I'm
scared
! It was like he could see
through
me! Those other guys must have called him in to help—”

“How did he know who we were? They couldn't have described us in our disguises, and we split up so we wouldn't be a trio . . .”

I had a dismal, hollow feeling. “I don't know. I hoped when they got the newspaper back they'd leave us alone, only if none of them
know what's missing where I erased a few letters—” I drew in a deep breath. “What if they try to force me to tell them what's missing, and I don't remember it right?”

It was easy to recall what had happened to Mrs. Basker and think what it would be like to have it happen to
me.

“Maybe you better look at it again, see if it sounds right, the way we put it down.” He pulled the little slip of paper out of his pocket. I was surprised that he had it with him, since we'd changed clothes.

“What good will that do?” I asked bitterly. “I told you what I thought it had said. I'm not likely to remember any better now than I did then. And if all this disguise business is for nothing—”

I didn't finish that sentence. Eddie said what I was thinking as he shoved his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. “We're doomed,” he said in a stage whisper.

Charlie gave us a disgusted glare. “No, we're not! Come on, if we've blown our cover, let's go sit down and have a cold drink. This stuff is making me thirsty. Gracie can look at
this again and see if she remembers anything else. Naturally, if they try to force you to tell them what you know, you'll tell them. Whatever they're involved in, it's not worth getting killed or even hurt over. Come on, we can get Cokes over there.”

We pooled our cash to pay for the drinks, which didn't taste as good as the Cokes I was used to at home. Maybe that was only because I was so scared that anything would have tasted like poison. When Charlie spread out the torn scrap of newspaper on the table in front of us, I didn't even look at it.

Because the man in the gray suit had just walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee. He stood there drinking it, not looking directly at us, but in a position where he couldn't possibly miss it when we left. It hurt for me to breathe.

Charlie jiggled the paper. “Come on, Gracie, I see him, too, but he's not doing anything, and there are two security officers taking a break right over there. The guy isn't going to do anything. Look at this. Try to remember if there was anything else. Maybe the easiest thing
would be to walk up to him and give him this and tell him that's all you remember of what was on the puzzle.”

I choked and grabbed for a napkin to keep from spraying Coke all over the table. Eddie patted my arm encouragingly. “You okay now? Go ahead, look at it. Maybe Charlie's got a good idea.”

“The ideas he's had so far haven't exactly been terrific,” I said, but I smoothed out the scrap of newspaper. “This is upside down,” I told them, “that's the number Aunt Molly gave me. Where
is
she?”

With exaggerated patience, Charlie reached out to turn the paper over. “Here, then, read this side.”

I scowled at it. It didn't mean any more to me now than it had earlier. And then something clicked.

“What is it? You remembered what you erased?” Charlie leaned toward me, his elbows on the table.

I picked up the paper, looked at what I'd dictated for him to write there, then reversed the scrap and looked at the number where
I'd called Aunt Molly. And then I turned it right side up again and took my fingers away from it.

“You . . .” I hesitated, not wanting to sound like an idiot if I was wrong. “You know what this looks like? I mean, if you take out the letters that don't seem to mean anything, what do the numbers look like to you?”

The boys twisted their heads to read it better.

“Nothing,” Eddie said.

“Just random numbers,” Charlie said, shrugging.

I inhaled deeply and tried to pretend that the hostile man in the gray suit wasn't drinking coffee only a few yards away. “It looks like a telephone number.”

Charlie was first startled, then excited. “You're right! It does! The pattern is the same—three numbers, and an
X
—that's for the dash—and then four numbers, and then it's an
L.
” Now he was frowning. “The whole string of numbers is preceded by a
P
—for phone, maybe? The
X
could be just a spacer, and then . . .” His voice trailed off. “I don't
know what the numbers are after the
L.
Four digits. Not another phone number.”

My mind was blank—well, almost blank. I was still scared—but Eddie's wasn't. “L for locker,” he said in a low voice. “And there are four-digit numbers on those lockers where we put our stuff, remember?” Charlie cleared his throat. “Let's go call Aunt Molly again,” he said, and stood up, forgetting the drink he'd said he needed to quench his thirst.

It wasn't until we'd left the restaurant (with the man in the gray suit casually following a moment later) that Charlie added under his breath, “Let's find out if those numbers match up with any of the pay phones here in the airport. And then we'll check out the locker numbers.” He grinned at us. “If it
is
a locker number here in the airport, it could be a phone number here, too, couldn't it? I think maybe we're finally getting somewhere.”

I trotted along between the boys, and I sure hoped he was right.

The man in the gray suit had disappeared. We didn't see the two we had dubbed The Enemy, either. But I didn't feel any safer. Maybe they were in disguises, too. Or maybe they'd called in even more reinforcements, so that any of the people we saw might be enemies.

There was an old woman in a dirty coat—even though it was summer—with all kinds of junk in a shopping bag, who watched us with interest when we checked on the numbers in the first bank of phones. I even suspected
her,
but when we moved on, she didn't follow us.

And there was a young guy with long stringy hair, in patched jeans and a sweatshirt so faded I couldn't even guess what color it had originally been. He lounged against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and kept an eye on us too.
When I murmured something to call the boys' attention to him, Charlie dismissed him with a glance.