Love & Luck(46)

I pointed to the image on the sign. “What a cute snarling shadow dog.”

Ian waved me off. “That sign’s a fake. Half the time people put those up when all they really have are goldfish.”

“Rowan has a goldfish,” I said.

His mouth twitched. “Had a goldfish. Had, Addie.”

“Look, as long as we stick to the plan, we’ll be fine. We already know that the room is ground level and faces the backyard. It will probably take me ten seconds to find. Rowan, all you have to do is drive in and wait. I’ll do the rest.”

This was train-mode Ian. I couldn’t stop him. Rowan couldn’t stop him. A slab avalanche couldn’t stop him. Our best bet was to do exactly what he wanted—get in there, get a photo, and run.

“Fine.” Rowan sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

Ian bounced giddily, pulling his notebook out. “Thanks, Rowan. I really owe you.”

Rowan put the car into reverse. “Yeah, you really do.”

“What about me?” I asked, yanking my legs out of the crevice behind the passenger’s seat. Over the course of the day, I had reached a new and alarming mental space where I now accepted my legs being asleep as normal.

Ian petted me on the head. “Thanks, Addie. I really owe you, too, I guess?”

I shoved his hand away. “No, I mean what do you want me to do while you take photos of the inside of someone’s house? Go with you?”

“No. It will be better if you stay right where you are. Guard Rowan’s stuff.” He tried to pet my head again, but I ducked out of the way.

I was about to insist on going with him, but when I straightened up, Ian had already moved into his pregame routine, a ritual I’d seen just shy of a million times. First he tied and retied his shoes—once, twice, three times—then he cracked his neck back and forth, finishing with a firm shoulder shake.

Watching him soothed me. If anyone could outrun an angry shadow dog, it was Ian. If he weren’t the quarterback of the football team, he’d be the running back. He was the fastest sprinter on the team.

There was also the semicomforting fact that Ian was unequivocally lucky. If, for instance, the owners saw us and decided to shoot our car with flamethrowers, Clover would choose that exact moment to hit a pothole, and Ian would be launched from the car at just the right second, tumbling into soft grass and surviving the ordeal completely unscathed. It was Rowan and me who would end up crispy.



“Where is he? It’s been donkey’s years,” Rowan hummed under his breath. Our eyes met over the clock on the dashboard. I wasn’t sure about donkey’s years, but it had been a lot longer than the two minutes Ian had promised before he’d disappeared out the window. Now we were both impersonating him, jiggling anxiously.

Torc Manor was trying very hard to be charming, and the ingredients were all there: a steeply pitched roof, white-trimmed windows, well-kept flower garden. But the longer we sat there, the more I realized there was something eerie about it too. Thick white sheets shrouded the patio chairs, and the surrounding trees grew in a wild tangle, filling the sky with branches and making the afternoon feel much darker than it actually was.

At least Ian was right about no one being there. There weren’t any signs of life—no cars in the driveway, no shoes at the door, and no noise. Even the birds and insects were quiet.

Suddenly, Rowan ducked low. “Did you see that?”

My heart skittered as I followed his gaze to the upstairs window. But the curtains were drawn; no movement anywhere. “See what?”

“I thought I saw something. A flash of white.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry I’m being a dope. I’m not that great at stress.”

Ian suddenly materialized at the car window, startling me so much that I flung my arm into Rowan’s chest, hitting him with a dull thud.

“Oof,” he wheezed.

“Sorry, Rowan,” I said. This was not an isolated incident. Startled Addie equaled flailing Addie. Once, during a particularly intense cinematic moment, I’d showered an entire row of moviegoers with popcorn. Now I had my snacks doled out to me at movies.

Ian crossed his arms, reveling in a self-satisfied smile. “Why are you so jumpy? I told you, no one’s here.”

I looked at the house again. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. “Can we get out of here? This place creeps me out.”

Ian shook his head. “The windows back there are too high. I need you to come with me so I can lift you up.”

Instinct told me to hijack the car and get us out of there, but reason told me to go along with Ian’s plan and get it over with. Also, I liked the fact that he was asking me for help. It felt pre-Cubby. “Let’s just make it quick.”

Ian dragged me around back. The back lawn was carefully maintained, with a wall of well-tamed rosebushes. Wind rippled through the trees, making a low shrieking noise. “I think it’s that one,” he said, pointing to a large window.

“Let’s check.” He knelt down so I could climb onto his shoulders, then wobbled to a stand. I leaned in, careful not to touch the spotless window. “Impressive,” I said. “You found the Red Room on the first try.”

“I did? What does it look like?” He bobbed around happily, and I had to grab his hair to keep from falling off.