Free The Breakers Code by Conner Kressley Page B

talking. “At dinner, he said some things.”
         One of those being that he wasn’t interested in me, but there’s no point in telling you that.
     
         “What sort of things?” Casper inched closer, his mouth gaping open.
         “He said his life wasn’t his own; like he couldn’t make his own decisions or something. I thought he was talking about Merrin, but now, piecing it all together- What if he’s in trouble? What if he’s involved in something he shouldn’t be and is in over his head?”
         I twisted my locket around my fingers.
         “What sort of stuff Cresta? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
         “That’s what I need to find out,” I answered, looking back at Mrs. Goolsby’s house. “I just- I need to make sure he’s okay.” I remembered what he told me earlier before he ran out. “He’s my friend.”
         “It could be dangerous,” Casper said.
         “I know,” I answered.
         “That’s not gonna stop you, is it?”
         “Not even a little,” I answered.
         “And you expect me to go with you into the perilous unknown?” He crinkled his nose.
         “You don’t have to. Like you said, it could be dangerous,” I answered.
         “Is that gonna stop me?” He asked.
         “Not even a little,” I answered.
         “Cars drive on roads,” he said. “Let’s go.”
         The black Sedan wasn’t idling tonight, but the windows were so dark that we couldn’t tell if anybody was in it. Not wanting to get caught, we snuck around the back and climbed the small white fence surrounding Mrs. Goolsby’s backyard. We tiptoed past the in ground pool, though why a geriatric window needed an Olympic sized pool and neighboring hot tub was beyond me.
         I’ll add that to my list of questions.
     
         Luckily, Casper had spent last summer doing odd jobs for Mrs. Goolsby. Though, since she tended to pay him in nickels and always asked for ‘backrubs’, he’d probably debate you on how lucky he actually was. Still, he knew the layout of her house; including where she kept the key to the backdoor.
         “Here it is, under the stupid plaster elf,” he said, lifting a creepy gnome stature and grabbing the key from underneath. He slid it in the back door and opened it slowly.
         We crept in to find something totally surprising.
         I hadn’t been in Mrs. Goolsby’s house since last Fourth of July, when the church sponsored a street wide bbq. But it seemed like a pretty standard ‘old lady’ house. There was furniture wrapped in plastic to preserve it’s ‘newness’, generic sunflower paintings on the walls, and pictures of family members that never seemed to actually visit in picture frames on the mantle. But now, making our way through the house, all of that seemed to be gone. In fact, everything was gone.
         It was just like Owen’s house; no furniture in the living room, no beds in the bedrooms, no facilities in the kitchen or bathrooms. The house was completely empty, as though no one lived here at all.
         “Cresta, “Casper whispered, his eyes wide. “What’s going on?”
         “I have no idea,” I admitted. I was half expecting the door to slam shut behind us and some phantom security system to start shouting intruder like in Owen’s house. But that was not the sound I heard.
         As we passed a door on our second round through the kitchen, I heard the light sounds of conversation. I froze.
         “Do you hear that?” I asked.
         Casper just nodded. “Can you make it out?” He asked.
         “I’ll be able to in a minute,” I answered, and grabbed the handle.
         His eyes got wide with alert, but before he could say anything I had already pushed the door open. It opened into a long wooden staircase winding down into what was presumably a basement.
         Though he looked like he wanted to stop me, Casper