Free Edison's Gold by Geoff Watson Page B

do, don’t let Mitzi see you.”
    Colby was about to rattle off the top twenty reasons why whatever Tom was thinking about doing was a terrible idea, but something stopped her. Maybe it was the pleading look in his eyes. Maybe it was the excitement about what could be behind that wall. Or maybe Colby McCracken had become so used to the sneaking and risk taking of this odd treasure hunt that she’d grown a teeny bit braver these past few days. Whatever the reason, she found herself nodding her head.
    â€œOkay, I’ll do it. What about you?”
    Tom hesitated, surprised by her response, then smiled, with eyes glimmering mischievously. “I’m going throughthat window. We’ll meet back in five, so you can hoist me up.”
    â€œCool.”
    Placing trust in her friend when safe logic and sound reasoning had failed her, Colby disappeared into the hallway.

O n their hundred-yard walk to the pet store, Tom remembered seeing Mel’s Grocery Mart, a shabby little convenience store on Bedford, but with Mitzi in the front room, probably explaining to Noodle the pros and cons of cockapoos versus schnauzer doodles, there was only one way to get there without arousing too much suspicion.
    Paint had gummed the window shut, but after a few heaves, he was finally able to force it open a crack. After that, it was just a three-foot drop to the sidewalk.
    Hurrying across the street, he noticed a black Cadillac parked along the curb. Its windows were tinted, and its engine was running. Tom could make out a shadowed figure in dark glasses slumped behind the wheel, but hewas too nervous to take a longer look at the driver’s face. Instead he stared straight down at his shoelaces until he was safely inside Mel’s.
    The convenience store was bare-bones and dusty, and most of the items on the shelves looked to be way past their expiration dates. Tom was still able to assemble all the ingredients he needed: vinegar, salt, baking soda, dish-washing gloves, a plastic jug of springwater, and a Hershey’s bar. Weighted down, he approached the register, pulling a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet. Good-bye to a month’s savings.
    â€œAn investment,” Tom mumbled to comfort himself as a shaggy, incurious teen rang him up.
    He grabbed his change, a measly $1.17, and slipped back out the jingling door. Outside, the Cadillac had been vacated. Tom stopped to peek through the window. What a mess. The backseat was littered with fast-food wrappers and empty soda cups, plus sun-faded magazines and newspapers. Whoever drove that car spent a lot of time in it.
    â€œYou’re just being paranoid over nothing,” Tom said to himself as he crossed the street back to Mitzi’s, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.
    Colby, who was already waiting in the reptile roomwhen he arrived, leaned out the window to help hoist him back into the pet shop.
    â€œSome really strange guy just walked in the front door,” she whispered as she handed Tom a plastic bucket filled with everything he’d asked for. “Didn’t look like he was too interested in buying a pet either.”
    Tom wondered if this guy and the Caddy outside were related, but he didn’t want to make Colby any more nervous than she already seemed.
    â€œWhat’s Noodle up to?”
    â€œLast I saw, they’d moved on to snuggling kittens. Mitzi didn’t see me.”
    â€œNoodle’s got the gift,” said Tom, dumping almost all the springwater out the window, then spreading the rest of the ingredients in front of him. “And every good posse needs a maverick.”
    â€œHow long do you think this’ll take?” Colby nervously peered out the door. “That fat guy in the other room’s weirding me out.”
    â€œLess than a minute. Just need to mix the vinegar with bleach to form a vitriolic solvent.”
    â€œAnd you know you need a three-to-one ratio of salt to acid