by Laura Ruby
“Salty!” said Candi, biting into a kale chip. Her name really was Candi, short for Candace. She was technically the blondest, and the woman in charge of them all. She had the ear of the boss, and that was not anything the other blond ladies could boast. At least, not at the moment. The boss had a reputation for cycling the women. He would favor one for a while, until Belinda’s magic couldn’t quite hide the lines forming around the blonde’s eyes and mouth, until the blond lady got too hungry and devoured whole boxes of doughnuts on the weekend and couldn’t quite make up the difference by sipping bone broth the rest of the week. And then another blond lady would be looped in.
The blond women didn’t know where the retired ones went. Perhaps to the Midwest somewhere. Kansas. Or Minnesota.
The blondes didn’t like thinking about Minnesota.
So they didn’t. Each of them thought she was special, not like the other girls, that she would be the one to stay, maybe even take the boss’s place when he retired. Finally, get real power. But for now, they bided their time and did what was asked of them. Candi in particular.
But Candi had been asked to find a cat. And she was having some trouble.
She had never had trouble before.
“More tea, Ms. Candi?” asked an assistant.
“Yes, please,” Candi said, holding out her cup. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. She shouldn’t even be able to frown. She would have to freshen the Botox soon. And maybe ask for some fillers around the mouth.
“You’re looking especially beautiful this morning, Candi,” said Toni, the blond girl to her left. She was new, and quite young, with the plump cheeks of a teenager that Belinda would shadow and sculpt with powders to make her look more like an adult.
“Thank you,” said Candi, knowing full well that Toni was after her job. Well, she would have to get in line. Right behind Ashli, Tammi, Lori, Laci, and Lu. All of whom quickly joined in on the compliments.
Ashli: “Oh yes, Candi looks luminous without makeup.”
Tammi: “She doesn’t need it!”
Lori: “Maybe you should get a new haircut like Anniq suggested. A pixie! To show off those marvelous cheekbones.”
Laci: “Oooh, a pixie would be so daring. But then Candi is the definition of daring.”
Lu: “I think she should go for some layers. A pixie might be too much.”
They all looked at Lu, quirking their carefully threaded eyebrows. Lu wasn’t going to last. First of all, she called herself Lu. Not Luli or even Lulu. If you wanted a man’s job, you couldn’t have a man’s name. You needed to call yourself the least threatening name think you could think of. If they even suspected that you had any ambitions beyond the roles they selected for you, if you were stubborn, if you stood out in the wrong way, you could be cut. Just like that.
Poor Lu. She was already on a plane to Minnesota, and she didn’t even know it.
“Oh, you ladies are so kind,” Candi said. “But I couldn’t possibly get a pixie. I’m afraid I’m too attached to my hair as it is.” In other words, Don’t come for me, and I won’t come for you. And there are no guarantees I won’t come for you anyway, because that’s the way the world works.
Toni smiled. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “You do wear it so well.”
“Thank you, dear.” Candi patted the younger woman’s knee. “You might want to ask Belinda about her new eye shadows. She said those shadows can bring out even the smallest of eyes.”
Toni tipped her head like a puppy, trying to sort out what Candi had said, then her eyes narrowed in recognition. No matter. Toni was no match for Candi, would never be. Candi sipped her green tea and fortified herself with another kale chip.
“How’s the search going, Candi?” Lu asked. “Did you find that cat yet?” Again, the other women stared at her. You weren’t supposed to be so direct, unless you were making a video to put online, a video in which you ranted rather prettily about the president playing too much golf, or maybe the secretary of state operating a tax scam out of a cupcake bakery in New Jersey. The blond women might answer to Duke Goodson, but they had roles as commentators and panelists for various news stations and internet companies. A girl had to make a living.
“The search is going as expected,” Candi replied, her tone cool as the tea in her cup. “The cat is not just a cat, as you know.”
“Looks like a cat,” Lu said. “A big one, but still.”
“Well, it isn’t,” Candi said. “I have Staci, Suri, Jenni, and Zozi at work right now. And there are other forces at play.”
“What other forces?” said Lu. She dug her hand in the bowl of kale chips offered by another assistant and scooped out at least twenty or twenty-five of them. It was appalling.
“Forces that are different from the original forces,” Candi said. That should have been enough to shut the woman up, but this was Lu.
“Okay, but what other forces? And what’s the big deal about a cat anyway? What’s Goodson want with it?”
“The search for the animal is not my only concern,” said Candi. The woman was a nightmare. How did she even get this job?
Anniq came up behind Candi and fluffed Candi’s hair. “You are stressed this morning?” she asked. “You seem tense.”
“No more than usual, Anniq,” Candi said. Unlike Candi, Anniq was looking luminous this morning, always looked luminous, but Candi couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I’d like a bit of a trim, today.”
“All right,” said Anniq, agreeably. “An inch?”
“You know me so well, Anniq.”
While Anniq washed and conditioned her hair, Candi thought about the cat. As much as she talked about how important finding the cat was, she thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Her talents were being wasted by chasing after someone’s pet. Why not send Toni on this errand? Let the silly little twit believe she was doing something important. But when Candi had suggested it, Duke had given her that look. The baleful, empty look that told her not to push it.
She hated that look. She hated Duke, too, if she was being honest, which she almost never was. The man was downright creepy. Not as creepy as that doctor in the Bronx, but creepy nonetheless. She couldn’t even imagine what Duke might say, might do, if she told him about the apartment building in Hoboken. What had happened, what she missed, what she was still missing.
A tiny voice spoke in the back of her brain: Why not go over his head?
She could do it, of all the blondes, she could do it. She could convince the big boss that Goodson had lost his touch. And she would be the fixer’s fixer.
She closed her eyes and fantasized about starting up her own news station, her own consulting firm. The videos she could make! The things she could make people believe! Anything, anything. It was her particular talent, more than any of the other girls. Duke would come crawling back to her, begging to be a part of it, and she would slam the door in his face. Maybe even send him to a retirement home in Minnesota. The other blond ladies could follow him.
Candi would be the one and only.
“We’re done,” said Anniq. She wrapped a warm towel around Candi’s shoulders and led her back to her chair. She combed out Candi’s long hair and trimmed an inch off the bottom. It took Anniq an hour to do it, and another for her to blow-dry, curl, and spray the finished style. By the time Anniq was done, Candi’s scalp ached and the lines in her forehead seemed worse somehow, the hair better on someone else, someone less aggravated. Maybe when she started her own consulting firm, she would get that pixie cut.
But she simply couldn’t.
It wasn’t what they wanted.
Candi fluffed the new curls but not so hard that she ruined their shape. “You’re a wizard, Anniq. Thank you.”
“You’re so welcome,” said Anniq warmly as ever. The stylist had put even more streaks of indigo in her own hair, along with some pink ones, too. Maybe Candi could entice Anniq and Belinda to come work for her. And if they wouldn’t, she would have to ruin them, so that they co
uld never work for anyone else, not even themselves. It would hurt Candi to do that, but if they were stubborn, if they had more ambition than was appropriate, what choice did she have?
A girl had to make a living.
Candi dug around in her tasteful leather bag, retrieved her phone, found the contact she was looking for. When a voice said, “Yes?” Candi said, “It’s me. I want an update and I better be happy with what I hear.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Tess
When Tess and Theo joined Jaime in his living room, Cricket and her mother were standing there.
“Cricket!” Tess said.
“Yes?” said Cricket.
“You’re here!”
“I know,” said Cricket. She was wearing a subdued outfit, for her, anyway. A brown shirt, black pants. And a little black mask that covered her eyes.
Oh.
“I’m really sorry about Karl, Cricket.”
“I dressed like him today,” said Cricket.
“I see that. I like it.”
Cricket looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry about Nine.”
“Me too,” said Tess.
“I know your mother is doing her best to find Karl and Nine,” Mrs. Moran said. “But it is very nice to see you, Tess. And you, Theo. I think you’ve grown taller.”
“That’s just his hair,” said Cricket.
“Cricket,” her mother warned.
“It’s true,” said Theo. “Tess did get taller, though.” He sounded grumpy about it. And then, astonishingly, he flexed his arm.
“Did you just try to make a muscle?” Cricket demanded.
“No.”
Tess rolled her eyes. None of them were going to be able to skip the dense part.
“Are you visiting Mrs. Cruz?” Theo asked.
“We live here! Jaime’s grandmother was gracious enough to get us a place,” Mrs. Moran said.
“That’s great. How do you like it?” Tess asked.
Mrs. Moran beamed. “We love it. So spacious. And new! Everything works, nothing leaks, and there’s a pool and a gym. It’s just amazing.”
“Except for the NEFARIOUS ACTORS,” said Cricket.
“Well, yes. Except for those.” Cricket’s mom pointed to the box that Jaime held. “Cricket noticed the bug problem. She’s . . . she’s been collecting them.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Bugs? What kind?” said Theo. “Bugs are awesome.”
“WIGGLE WORMS,” said Cricket.
“Not familiar with those,” said Theo. He opened one of the flaps. Tess peered inside. Silverfish.
“I broke them all,” Cricket said darkly.
Tess stepped closer and touched one of the bugs. They looked like silverfish, but . . .
“Metal,” Tess breathed.
“So metal,” Cricket said. “And not in the good way.”
“I know that you all are into science and insects and that kind of thing,” Mrs. Moran said. “I thought maybe you would know what these are so that I can call management about the problem. We’re going to have to get an exterminator here immediately.”
“And the FBI,” said Cricket.
“I’m not so sure we’ll need the FBI, Cricket.”
“The CIA, then.” Cricket’s eyes got big behind the mask. “Unless they did it.”
“I don’t believe the CIA infested our apartment building with bugs, Cricket,” said Mrs. Moran. Cricket made a raspberry sound. Her mother ignored it. “Anyway, I’m going to leave that box with you. Maybe you can call me later, let me know what you think?”
“Sure, Mrs. Moran,” said Jaime. “Happy to.”
Mrs. Moran beamed again. “Come on, Cricket. Let’s leave these guys to their experiments. I promised I would take you to the museum.”
Cricket said, “We’re going to see the dinosaur bones.”
“The Natural History Museum?” said Tess. “My favorite. I love the megafauna exhibits, too.”
“Hmmph,” said Cricket.
“Bones of giant mammals that lived in the Pleistocene era,” Theo explained.
“MEGAFAUNA,” Cricket said, wonder in her voice. “Is Nine a MEGAFAUNA?”
“No, she’s just big, not giant,” said Tess. “And all those others are extinct.”
“That’s sad,” said Cricket.
“Yeah,” Tess said.
Jaime bent to look Cricket in the mask. “Thank you for collecting these bugs. I really appreciate it. I think you’ve found something very important and possibly nefarious.”
Cricket smiled one of her rare smiles, one that transformed her whole face. “I’ll keep looking for them when I get home.”
“Good,” said Jaime. “Have a great time at the museum and say hi to the giant sloth for me.”
Once Cricket and Mrs. Moran were gone, Theo said, “I wonder what—”
But Tess cut him off. She shook her head and put a finger across her lips. Then, she pointed at the box.
Jaime placed it on the coffee table. Tess grabbed one of the bugs. Cricket hadn’t lied; she’d broken them all. This one had tiny springs and wires hanging from its middle.
“A bug,” said Theo, when he saw wires were connected to a microphone and a microcamera, a bug inside a bug.
They stood in Jaime’s living room, trying to absorb what this meant. Someone had planted spying devices all throughout this apartment building. Maybe this very apartment. Hadn’t one of these crawled out of one of Jaime’s closets? They had mistaken it for a real bug at the time, but whoever made them could have seen and heard everything Jaime said, everything Tess and Theo had said today.
The clue! They’d been talking about the inscription from the island!
Ono popped his tiny head out from Jaime’s pocket, took in the box of broken bugs. “Oh no,” he said.
Tess had to agree.
They searched Jaime’s apartment and found three more silverfish, one behind the television in the living room, one under the sink in the kitchen, one under Jaime’s bed. Jaime stomped on it as if it were poisonous. Which, in a way, it was.
But even though they’d found three more bugs, they couldn’t trust that they’d gotten them all. On a piece of paper, Jaime wrote, “We have to get out of here. Go somewhere where we can’t be overheard.”
Tess nodded. For the benefit of any spies listening in, she said loudly, “You guys want to go to up to Central Park? We could rent some exos. Then come back here and swim again.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jaime said.
They packed up and headed out. Tess tried to keep her gaze focused straight ahead, tried to seem natural, but her limbs felt stiff and her lungs, tight. She couldn’t guarantee that the bugs had been meant for them, but she had a feeling they had been and she couldn’t shake it. Someone knew what they were looking for, or at least knew they were looking for something. Where else had been bugged? Aunt Esther’s house? Grandpa Ben’s room at the memory-care facility?
Who would do this?
Slant?
Who else would it be? Who else wanted all the Morningstarr buildings? Who else was babbling about progress every single day?
Who else would be so nefarious?
But another thought nagged at her, ate at her. What if the bugs were Morningstarr Machines? What if these machines, like the others, had minds of their own? What if the Cipher itself was listening in?
Who were the Morningstarrs? What was all of this for?
In silence, Jaime led Tess and Theo onto the ferry that would take them across the Hudson. They found a place outside against the rail where it was coolest and where the water churning against the engines might drown out anything they said. Not that they said much. All of them seemed to be lost in their own private reveries, their own private rages, their own private anxieties. Jaime tapped his fingers, Theo tugged on his lip, Tess yanked her braid and crossed her arms and couldn’t get comfortable in her own body. She felt like a marionette with someone else pulling the strings. That blond woman. Slant. The Morningstarr
s. And the Cipher itself.
She wished she knew what it wanted.
She wished she knew what she wanted.
She missed Grandma Annie. She missed Grandpa Ben. She missed Nine. She missed them all so hard she bit her tongue, and the tinny taste of blood flooded her mouth.
When she was little and plagued by nightmares, Grandpa Ben would sit up with her and have her tell him a story. A story that fixed all the nightmares, chased them away. If she dreamed of a monster under her bed, Grandpa Ben asked her what would make the monster less scary. So she would tell him a story about a monster that was scared and lonely because it lost its teddy bear. And if she dreamed she was swimming in the ocean and a shark came up beside her, she would tell Grandpa Ben a story about a shark that had decided to become a vegetarian and needed help with recipes. Angry ghosts turned into friendly ghosts who helped you empty the dishwasher; huge, faceless aliens with too many mouths transformed into happy little green Martians eager to share their knowledge of all the worlds in the universe.
Standing at the rails of the ferry, Tess told herself another story. One in which she and Theo and Jaime found the answer to the Cipher, and the answer was something so powerful and magical that could bring back everyone and everything that Tess had lost.
Tess almost laughed out loud. She would have said she’d been reading too many comic books, except she hadn’t been reading any comic books lately.
And then the ferry was docking, and they disembarked along with everyone else telling themselves a story about how they would win that new client account, how they would impress the boss, how they would ace the audition or the tryout. Near Washington Square Park, a car stopped at a red light played music so loud that the bass was distorted. A bunch of kids walking across the street in front of the car started to dance to the music. They danced furiously all the way to the other curb, making everyone around them laugh. Tess too. It was as if the world didn’t want her to be quite so sad, that her work wasn’t done yet.