Vespers Rising (The 39 Clues #11)(43)

Amy was always worried that he’d get a ticket. That was his sister. If she didn’t worry about stuff that didn’t matter, he’d have to check her pulse.

When they got back to Boston, he and Amy wanted everything the same, including moving back into their apartment. But now that Fiske and Nellie were their legal guardians, it wasn’t too long — barely a couple of weeks — before they all realized it wasn’t going to work. The apartment was just too small.

Fiske had the perfect solution. They moved out to Attleboro, to the guest house on their grandmother Grace’s property. Fiske devoted himself to the plans for rebuilding Grace’s mansion, which a fire had almost completely destroyed. But the guest house was perfect, with a big country kitchen and room enough for all of them. Dan had a bedroom overlooking a field and an oak tree. Amy had a room with a canopy bed. Saladin had a window seat overlooking the garden. It had been easy to settle in.

Especially since they were now massively rich. In addition to the two million they’d received for finding their ancestor Gideon’s serum, it turned out that Grace had left the rest of her estate to them in trust. Which basically meant that they were something close to bazillionaires. It was a weird feeling. He and Amy could probably get driven to their old schools in a limousine every day, but they knew they weren’t limousine people.

They had no idea how to be rich.

“Snack time,” Dan said as he approached his sister. “Fiske isn’t even in sight. He’s probably going a hundred in a fifty-miles-per-hour zone as we speak.”

Amy peered down the street. “He could be here any minute.”

“C’mon, Amy, cinnamon rolls are calling us.” Dan put a hand near his ear. “Do you hear? ‘Amy? Dan?’” he squeaked. “‘Come and get my sugary, sticky goodness!’”

Just then he noticed that Amy had that look, as though she wanted the street to buckle and split so she could fall right in. Dan saw the cool crowd from her school hanging at a table in the front. So that was why she didn’t want to go in. Evan Tolliver was at the head of the table. Dan sighed. Evan, the human computer, was Amy’s dream crush. Whenever Evan was near, she got her stutter back.

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t notice Luke Skywalker,” Dan said. “Or is it Darth Vader?”

“Shhh,” Amy said. Her cheeks were red. “He’s coming.”

“You mean Evan Tolliver himself is about to set his foot on the sidewalk? Did you bring the rose petals?”

“Cut it out, dweeb!” Amy said fiercely.

“Hi, Amy,” Evan said from behind her.

Amy’s color went from summer rose to summer tomato. She shot Dan a look that told him he was in serious trouble.

“Hey, Evan,” he said. “I’m Amy’s little brother, Dweeb. Great to meet you, man.”

Amy turned so that she was blocking Dan from Evan. “H-hi, Evan.”

“Wow, I’m glad I saw you. Did you pick a topic for your English paper yet?” Evan asked. “I’m sorta freaked about it.”

“Really? I’ve got a couple of ideas, but …”

Dan decided it was a terrific time to hit the mute button that sat ever ready in his head whenever Amy started to talk about school.

Just then he heard a honk and looked over at the line of cars waiting to turn the corner. A motorcycle was weaving through traffic, trying to cut over to the right lane. As Fiske accelerated and made the turn, the motorcycle cut off a delivery truck to follow him. When Fiske pulled over to the curb, the motorcycle pulled in behind him and its rider got off the bike.

The rider was one Big, Scary Harley Dude. He wore leather leggings, a leather jacket, leather boots, and there were probably leather eyes behind his small, round sunglasses.

“Uh, Amy?” Dan said, still looking at Scary Harley Dude, who was slowly taking off his helmet. He had a mass of black curls, but that didn’t lessen his epic badnews vibe. Not one bit.

The Dude took his time strolling toward Fiske. Just to prolong the agony, Dan guessed. Fiske hadn’t seen him yet.

He leaned over the passenger seat and waved at Dan. Dan gestured wildly at Scary Harley Dude. The guy had been tailing Fiske, no question. Misunderstanding the gesture, Fiske shook his head and pointed to his watch.

Meanwhile, Amy was still trying to get out a sentence. “... was thinking that m-maybe …”

“AMY!”

The guy was almost at the open driver’s side window. Dan jerked his head toward him and widened his eyes at Amy. They’d been through enough almostkidnappings, attacks with lethal intent, and encounters with the crazy to have a pretty good instinct about things.

Amy squinted as Scary Harley Dude reached for something at his belt and leaned in toward Fiske. Fiske turned and finally saw him, and they saw fear on his face….

“Nooooooooooo!” Screaming the word, Amy and Dan moved as one.

Time slowed down, which, Dan knew from experience, often happened when you were in midair. By the time they leaped onto the hood of Fiske’s car (oops, dents), and Dan had ripped off a windshield wiper to use as a weapon (probably not the best idea, but hey, he was improvising), Scarey Harley Dude had turned around.

He strode off in his motorcycle boots, moving swiftly to his bike without seeming to hurry. His helmet back on, sunglasses adjusted, he roared off straight into the road, weaving through the thick traffic like smoke.