Wulf reached in and yanked Hatchet out of the helicopter. The pilot wiped the seat down with hand sanitizer and sprayed the cabin with air freshener.
When we lifted off, Hatchet was on the ground, waving to us and shouting farewell.
“Will he be okay?” I asked Wulf. “He has no clothes and no money.”
“He’s quite resourceful,” Wulf said. “He’ll be fine.”
—
It was dark when Diesel and I got home. We let ourselves in and went to the kitchen. Cat was on the counter, gnawing on a chicken potpie. Carl was eating peanut butter out of the jar with his finger. Cabinet doors were open and cereal boxes were on the floor.
“Looks like Carl made dinner,” I said.
Carl looked over and smiled.
Diesel put the skull in the microwave for safekeeping. “First thing tomorrow we’ll visit Nergal.”
“I’m not sure we’ll learn anything of value,” I said. “This guy’s been dead for hundreds of years, and the real task we have now is finding Martin Ammon and relieving him of the stone.”
“You never know,” Diesel said. “It could be interesting. You said you had to pry the stone out of his hand.”
A chill ran down my spine at the memory. “It was creepy. I broke off two of his fingers!”
My clothes were still damp and caked with sea salt. My shoes squished when I walked. And I was starving. I made a cheese sandwich, told Diesel he was on his own, and took my sandwich upstairs with me. I locked myself in my bathroom and peeled my clothes off while I ate the sandwich. I stepped under a scalding hot shower, closed my eyes, and thought I was in heaven. I opened my eyes when Diesel stepped into the shower with me.
“Hey!” I said. “This is my shower.”
“Not anymore,” Diesel said. “Now it’s our shower.”
Diesel poured some of my shower gel into his hands and worked up a lather.
“This smells nice,” Diesel said.
“It used to smell like lemon, but now it smells like cookies baking. How do you do that?”
“I don’t do it. It just happens.”
He ran his soapy hands over my shoulders and down my arms.
“Stop that,” I said. “No fooling around!”
“I’m not fooling,” Diesel said. “I’m deadly serious.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I dragged myself out of bed at five A.M. My day had barely started and already I was late. I dressed in the dark so I wouldn’t wake Diesel. Cat followed me down the stairs to the kitchen. I gave him fresh water and filled his bowl with kitty crunchies. I grabbed an apple and headed out. The street was quiet, but lights were blinking on in some of the houses. A car pulled into the parking lot for the shipyard at the bottom of my hill.
Clara was already at work when I got to the bakery. The big dough mixer was humming, and flour hung in the air like fairy dust.
“How’d it go yesterday?” Clara asked.
“First off, Josh and Devereaux broke into my house and stole the map and the coin,” I said. “We all raced to Penobscot Bay to see who could get there first and get the finder, which turned out to be the cursed Blue Diamond of Babur. We got the diamond but Devereaux blew our boat up with a rocket. Then Devereaux kidnapped me, and we went looking for the treasure. In the meantime, Rutherford kidnapped Glo, tracked us down, and followed us into the cave. Devereaux fell to his death, we found the treasure, which included the SALIGIA Stone, and Rutherford left Glo and me to die in the brig of a pirate ship. Diesel rescued us and here I am.”
“So same old, same old,” Clara said.
I buttoned myself into my white chef coat. “Pretty much.”
“It’s disappointing that Josh was working with Devereaux to steal the treasure,” Clara said. “I guess you never know about people.”
“It turned out that Devereaux was a really bad guy in disguise. Or maybe he changed when he took possession of the coin. At any rate, he was definitely insane at the time of death. I think Josh was just stupid. In the end Josh tried to help rescue Glo and me.”
“Was Glo impressed with that?”
“She punched him in the nose the first chance she got. When we dropped them off here last night she still wasn’t talking to him.”
“Good for her,” Clara said.
Glo arrived a little before nine. She parked Broom in a kitchen corner and set her Magic 8 Ball and tote bag on a workbench.
“I’ve been asking the Magic 8 Ball questions all morning,” Glo said, “but it always has the same message. I think it might be waterlogged.”
“What’s the message?” Clara asked.
“?‘Outlook not so good,’?” Glo said.
Lucky thing I don’t believe in the Magic 8 Ball or I might be depressed.
“Are you still seeing Josh?” Clara asked Glo.
Glo shook the 8 Ball and the message floated to the surface. “Outlook not so good.”
—
Diesel sauntered in at eleven o’clock. He helped himself to a blueberry muffin and perched on a stool by my workstation.
“What’s new?” Diesel asked.
“I need to finish glazing these cinnamon rolls, and then I’m done for the day.”
Diesel grinned. “Do you want me to help?”