Chasing Danger

by Sara Grant

  Someone draped a blanket over me. It was probably one hundred degrees outside, but I was shivering. From the scent of her perfume, I knew it was Ariadne. She’d spilled her expensive perfume this morning when we were getting ready. The fragrance covered up the smell of the salt, sea, sweat and smoke that seemed to coat us. She was trying to act calm, as if yesterday’s multiple near-death experiences hadn’t affected her. But I had seen the dark circles under her eyes.

  I heard someone else come into the room. Ariadne walked away. I was too exhausted to open my eyes. They were whispering. That had happened a lot since we left the yacht. Everyone was whispering about me, not to me. How come I was old enough to do what it took to save almost everyone, yet suddenly wasn’t old enough to hear what was happening now?

  Normally that sort of adult stuff made me crazy, but I didn’t want to know anything else. My brain was already full of things that I wished I hadn’t seen, wished I hadn’t done, wished I’d never known.

  I tried not to listen, I really did. But it was as if snippets of their whispered conversation were made of metal and my ears were magnetic.

  “Missing, presumed dead.”

  I never knew anyone my age who had died. I’d certainly never been around when it happened and definitely had never been the cause of death.

  “No longer a rescue … recovery operation.”

  I rolled over and stared at the cream weave of the fabric on the couch’s cushions. In my mind, I catalogued the things that I had done and the people I’d hurt. Why mattered, didn’t it? I never meant to hurt anyone. I’d saved way more people than I had hurt. That mattered too, didn’t it? But Mackenzie – one of the people who mattered most to me – what had happened to her? Maybe I was more like my mom than I had ever imagined, but it didn’t scare me any more. That part of her inside me had helped me survive. At least, I imagined it did.

  Someone turned on the TV in the corner of the room. I rolled over when I heard a British TV announcer talking about what had happened yesterday. We’d made the world news. Well, sort of. The news story was about an attempted million-dollar heist. The final image was of the hostages leaving the ship that had rescued us. I recognized the man whose face filled the screen. He was the first guy I freed in the dining hall.

  “We owe our lives to a young girl,” he was saying.

  “I thought the island was for pensioners,” the reporter said, and the camera panned to the rest of the grey-haired survivors.

  “I don’t know who she was, but I know if it wasn’t for her, we’d have been killed in an explosion,” the man said.

  Ariadne was at my side.

  The reporter continued, “So a mystery hero and more questions than answers…”

  “Your dad and I agreed it was best to keep your name out of it,” Ariadne said.

  I nodded. I didn’t care.

  Ariadne turned off the TV.

  “Don’t turn it off!” I shouted and sat bolt upright. “Maybe there’s news about Mackenzie.”

  “There won’t be.” She sat down next to me.

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s complicated,” Ariadne said with a sigh. “The British government has asked that we keep her disappearance out of the news for now. No one knows she was on the island. Only Artie knew her true identity.”

  “So Prince Arthur sends a hitman after Mackenzie and no one is ever going to know?” I hopped up off the couch. “Well, I’ll tell the world. I don’t care.” I paced the room. “They have to bring everyone involved in this to justice.”

  Ariadne led me back over to the couch. “There’s no evidence linking Prince Arthur or anyone else to this attack.”

  “Mackenzie thought Prince Arthur was behind it,” I tried to stand. “She and her mom had received threats. Artie said he was working for someone else.” Ariadne grabbed my hand. She did the talking yesterday when the police interviewed us. Why didn’t she tell them that this was part of a conspiracy to kill Mackenzie?

  “Sit down,” Ariadne said, patting the seat next to her.

  I sat. “We can’t let Prince Arthur get away with it. I don’t care if he’s royalty.”

  “Accusing the Prince would be a mistake.”

  “So what if he’s rich and powerf––”

  “It’s not just that,” Ariadne interrupted.

  “Then what?” Why did adults make everything so complicated? He did something wrong. He didn’t do it himself, but he was behind it, which was just as bad.

  “Did you hear anyone mention Prince Arthur?”

  “No.”

  “Artie isn’t talking, so we don’t really know who else is involved. It might not be the Prince.”

  What was she saying? “Who else would want to hurt Mackenzie?”

  Ariadne looked at our clasped hands.

  “Ariadne…”

  “Forget it.” She waved her hands wildly as if shooing the idea away. “I’m being stupid and paranoid.”

  “What aren’t you saying?” I stared at her and waited for her to speak. She could see I wasn’t going to drop it.

  “There may be someone else who might want to hurt Mackenzie,” Ariadne said. “Actually, this person’s real objective is to hurt Mackenzie’s mum.”

  I suddenly understood what she was struggling to tell me.

  “You can’t mean Mom. Why would Mom want to hurt Mackenzie? She’s in prison. She couldn’t possibly be responsible.”

  “Mackenzie’s mum and your mum were best friends from the first day of school.” Ariadne settled back into the couch. “They did everything together, but when they got older they…” She paused. I knew she was trying to figure out how to say that Mackenzie’s mom dedicated her life to protecting others while my mom hurt people. “They took different paths. Mackenzie’s mum and your dad were responsible for catching and convicting your mum.”

  I felt punched in the gut. “But you said she wasn’t all bad.”

  “She wasn’t. She’s not.” Ariadne quietly added. “I haven’t had contact with Beatrice in a long time. She won’t see me or respond to any of my messages. I only know the girl I raised. I don’t know the person she’s become.”

  My thoughts tangled in knots. None of this made sense.

  Ariadne continued in a cold, detached tone. “When you were born and the authorities took you away to live with your dad, your mum knew it was for the best, but she blamed Mackenzie’s mum for putting her in prison – for taking away her future with you. She vowed that she would eventually take Mackenzie away from her mum. When bad things started happening to Mackenzie, I was afraid your mum was making good on her threat. I had to protect Mackenzie.”

  “From my mom,” I said, but it was impossible to believe. “So you think Mom was behind this.”

  I’d found and lost my mom again. I was only beginning to come to terms with the fact that my mom was a criminal. After everything that had happened, everything I’d had to do to survive, I’d grown to understand her a bit more. People had died because of me. It wasn’t the same as murder, but I understood that people could do horrible things and not be completely bad people. Could my mom really want to hurt Mackenzie? How could I ever live with that?

  “I hope not.” Ariadne placed her arm around my shoulders. “I can’t believe Beatrice would ever want to harm you or me. I’d hoped she’d found a way to forgive and accept responsibility for what she’d done. Maybe she has. If the police ask a lot of questions, your mum and Mackenzie’s mum’s past are bound to be dragged up again. I don’t want that for you or her. It won’t bring Mackenzie back.” She pulled me closer.

  She was asking me to keep quiet about the larger plot against Mackenzie. She was asking me to protect my mother.

  “There is no proof linking what happened yesterday to anyone other than Artie,” Ariadne said. “He could have been lying about taking orders from someone. He might have made that up to protect himself. He was probably acting alone. I shouldn’t have said anything to you. Your mum is in prison serving time
for her crimes. There’s no reason to tell the police or anyone about my silly fears. And that’s all they are.”

  I wanted to believe her. My mom couldn’t be completely bad. My dad wouldn’t have been in a relationship with someone that was horrible. She’d given me life, and she didn’t have to do that. She allowed my dad to raise me. She’d stayed away to give me the best chance at happiness. That was something. I’d hold on to the good things about my mom. Until there was proof, I wouldn’t believe she’d hurt Mackenzie.

  Ariadne hugged me close. It didn’t feel strange any more. “Artie and his men have been caught. It’s over. We’ve got to move on.”

  “Do you think Mackenzie is alive?” I asked. I prayed that Mackenzie was only presumed dead.

  “Mackenzie is an extraordinary girl.” Which didn’t really answer my question. “If anyone can survive, she can.”

  Then that’s what I would believe. Mackenzie was out there somewhere.

  A man in a pilot’s uniform walked into the room before I could ask Ariadne anything else. “Miss Sinclair, it’s time to board your plane,” he said. “Follow me.”

  We followed.

  “I spoke to your dad this morning,” Ariadne told me as we headed down a long corridor and on to the tarmac. “He says it’s fine with him if you want to stay with me as planned.”

  The sun’s heat was beating down on us and radiating up from the black asphalt. “Really? I thought for sure I’d be on the first plane home to Indiana.”

  “He said he’s proud of you and that you’ve proven you can take care of yourself,” she said with a laugh. “I wanted a little more time to get to know my granddaughter better. I hope that’s OK.”

  “I’d like that, Ariadne.” It still felt strange to say her name.

  It was as if she read my mind. “Maybe you should call me grandma.”

  “I thought you hated that word,” I said.

  “I did.” She shrugged. “I’m beginning to see it as a privilege not as a synonym for ‘ancient’.”

  The jet ahead of us was sleek and small. I’d never flown on a private jet before. “Hey, Granny––”

  “Don’t push it, Chase,” she said, giving me a playful bump. She called me Chase. That was a first. Maybe we would get to know each other for real.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I’m tired of this sun, sea and sand,” she said as we climbed up the stairs to the plane. “I’ve booked us a flight for a colder climate.”

  “Some place with no sharks?” I asked.

  “Definitely no sharks.”

  “And no pirates,” I added.

  “I certainly hope not.”

  I looked at my shorts and flip-flops. “I’m not really dressed for cold.” All my winter clothes were in Indiana.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, stopping at the door of the plane. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering you a whole new wardrobe.”

  Private jet. New wardrobe. I’d dreamed of a life like this. Now it didn’t seem so important. Ariadne ushered me on to the plane. It was nicer than my house, with comfy couches, a basket of my favourite candy, jumbo TV screens, and…

  “Mackenzie!” I shrieked. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There she stood with hardly a scratch on her. She looked like the same geeky model I’d met a few days ago. I had never seen anything so amazing in my entire life. I hugged her to make sure I hadn’t imagined her.

  Ariadne piled on and hugged us. “What? How?” she blubbered through her tears.

  “Our stupid plan worked,” Mackenzie said with a huge smile.

  “Really?” Ariadne and I said in unison. We collapsed on to the couches.

  “Yeah, I strapped on my scuba gear, and when Artie started firing at me, I flipped out of the boat and tipped it over,” Mackenzie explained. “I was already swimming away when I heard the explosion. I swam straight to the Aquatic Centre. I hid when I heard someone coming, but it was the Navy, not Artie.”

  “How did you get here?” Ariadne asked.

  “Chase’s dad convinced the Navy to smuggle me to safety and then sneak me on to the plane,” Mackenzie continued. “It’s better for everyone if I disappear. Your dad will tell my mum I’m OK, but no one else can know. As long as I’m presumed dead, I’ll be safe. You don’t mind hanging out with a dead girl for a while, do you?”

  That sounded pretty wacky to me.

  “You can’t get out of helping me launch my Triple L app that easily,” Ariadne said with a laugh. “Which we’re going to do…” Ariadne paused. “Drum roll please.”

  Mackenzie and I made a sound like a drum roll.

  “At the Ice Hotel in Lapland!” Ariadne exclaimed.

  “That’s where we’re going?” I asked.

  “Right now?” Mackenzie added.

  Ariadne nodded with a big goofy grin on her face.

  “We were going there in a few weeks anyway. We are ahead of schedule, that’s all. I’ve got to go speak to the pilot about our flight plan,” Ariadne said. “I’ll let you two settle in.” She exited into the cockpit.

  “Can you believe it?” Mackenzie said.

  Mackenzie was alive so anything felt possible.

  Suddenly I didn’t know how to act with Mackenzie. We’d saved each other’s lives, but her mom had put mine in prison and my mom may or may not be trying to kill her. Were we enemies or something else?

  “Weird, huh?” I said.

  “Yeah, completely and utterly bizarre,” she replied.

  “I’m glad you’re not really dead.”

  “That’s thanks to you.”

  We couldn’t pick our parents or fix what they had done. But we had each other. She’d proven that she was more than a friend who would help move a body. We’d risked our lives to save each other. I had a feeling this was only the start of our adventures together.

  I’m lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life – people who have made Chasing Danger a better book and me a better person.

  Thanks to…

  The amazing team at Scholastic. First and foremost to Lena and Sam for their editorial leadership and feedback but also to the artists, designers, proofreaders, publicity, marketing, sales, receptionists and everyone who has welcomed me and my book into the Scholastic family.

  My lovely agent Jenny and everyone at Andrew Nurnberg Associates for championing me and my work around the globe.

  The other Sara, James and Megan for reading rough drafts and sharing ideas.

  To my writerly friends at Book Bound (bookboundretreat.com), on the EDGE (edgeauthors.blogspot.co.uk) and at SCBWI British Isles for their friendship and advice.

  To my dad for sharing his love of books in general and thrillers and mysteries in particular. I think he would have liked Chase and Mackenzie. And to all my family and friends on both sides of the Atlantic for their love and encouragement.

  And finally to my wonderful husband Paul for loving a woman who plots murder and mayhem while on vacation. You are my co-creator and best friend.

  Scholastic Children’s Books

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2016

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2016

  Text copyright © Sara Grant, 2016

  The right of Sara Grant to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her.

  eISBN 978 1407 16674 2

  A CIP catalogue record for this work is available from the British Library.

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  Produced in India by Newgen

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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