disaster.” Jack snatches the bag, unrolls the top, and pulls out the dagger we liberated from the museum. The same one I used to slice my palm and then Jack’s to bind our blood and break The Creep. The one we were supposed to hide somewhere in the museum to confuse the officials into thinking it was merely misplaced and not, in fact, stolen along with the mortar. “So what’s up? And why did I need to get this?” The silver blade shines in the steaming sunlight.
“Trust me, we’ve got a problem.” Sinking into the desk chair, I quickly fill them in on my interaction with Claude at Miss Delia’s, telling them everything Claude said and how he linked Miss Delia’s donation with the engraving on the knife’s wooden handle. And, to ice this particular bad-news cupcake, I add in the part about how I inadvertently implicated myself, at least in finding the treasure.
Midway through my story, Jack and Cooper slump on his bed. By the time I’m done, Cooper’s pinching the bridge of his nose and Jack’s shaking his head.
“Crap.” Jack looks as miserable as someone forced to walk the plank over a shark-infested lagoon. “We could be totally screwed.” He grips the knife’s handle.
Cooper nods. “Yeah, but what were we supposed to do? Between adding that ramp to Miss Delia’s porch and widening her doorways we didn’t have time to make another trip to the museum.”
“I suppose it’s too late to do it now,” Jack says.
I sigh. “Now that’s Claude’s on the case, the museum is off-limits.”
Cooper’s eyes light up with hopeful possibility. “This Claude guy said he could get Taneea a job there, right? Maybe we could ask her to stick it in some storeroom or something.”
Jack and I stare at him, our foreheads etched with identical creases. I love Cooper’s optimism, but he’s seriously overestimated her trustworthiness.
“Dude, you’d rely on someone who hitchhikes with strangers and got kicked out of school for something this important? Are you nuts?” Jack asks, conveying my sentiments exactly, albeit way more rudely.
Cooper’s shoulder sink. “No, I guess you’re right. Besides, if it showed up now, it would raise more suspicions than before.”
I nod. “Or seal our fate. Even though we wiped it down, there’s no telling what evidence we might leave behind. It was coated in Jack’s and my blood, not to mention our fingerprints. What if our DNA is still deep inside that engraving? You know they only need a tiny amount of that stuff to test.” I stare at Jack’s right hand, which is currently wrapped around the scrolled BBR , the initials of Bloody Bill Ransom, the Dagger’s captain.
Cooper rubs his chin. “You’re right. As much as I hoped to return it, we can’t.”
“But what do we do with it?” Jack asks. “We can’t keep it here or at the caretaker’s cottage. If someone finds it, they’re liable to think Dad or Beau stole it.”
I nod. “Definitely. We need to put it somewhere no one’s going to find it.” I search my mind for the perfect hiding place. An idea pops to mind. “Hey, what about putting it back in the tabby box down at the ruins?” It’s where we found it in the first place and where it had been locked up for at least a century.
Before they can answer, Missy’s voice travels up the grand staircase, then winds around the second-floor landing and carries down the hall, through the closed door. “Cooper! Where you at? I need you.”
Cooper stiffens. “Why can’t she leave me alone?”
“Because she’s on a mission to destroy your life,” Jack answers.
“Maybe if we’re quiet she’ll go away.” Judging from the defeated expression on Cooper’s face, he knows that’s not likely.
Jack snorts. “Right and maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly out that window.”
“I saw that horrible station wagon of yours out front,” Missy trills. “I know you’re here. Don’t make me come up there to get you.”
Grinding his teeth, Cooper