Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I dismissed the words as the rants of a man losing his grip on reality as his political career—his very legacy—crumbled around him.
But now that we’re here, at this nature preserve next to O’Hare, I can’t help wondering if the Des Plaines River, which we’re being told to follow to find some evidence of Rouge’s wrongdoing, is the river of tears my father wrote about on that sheet of paper I received all those years ago.
I’m keeping my eyes peeled for a raven as Alissa drives her car to the parking lot in the clearing next to Dam Number Four.
At the same time, I’m looking for a cat, too. See if there’s some other clue.
But I haven’t seen either. Not that I can see a whole lot in the black of night.
We park across from the picnic grove. There aren’t any other cars parked here at this hour. It’s nearing midnight. Alissa pops the trunk and gets out before I can open her door for her—damn it—and she grabs the spades and flashlight out of the back. I take both of the spades in my left hand and she takes the flashlight.
The picnic grove is unassuming. A few wooden tables underneath a tall shelter. Some half-deflated heart-shaped balloons are scattered around—someone must have had a birthday party here recently. There are no lamps, so we have only the glow of Alissa’s flashlight and a sliver of moonlight illuminating the area.
Alissa shines the flashlight around. “You see anything out of the ordinary?”
I rub at the back of my neck with my free hand. “Nothing so far.”
She frowns. “This has to be it. There’s no other way to have read that second riddle.”
I shrug. “What about the first riddle? Maybe there’s something there.” I pull out the sheet of paper that was placed in my jacket pocket back at the club. “A figure of black, with points to its rank…”
Alissa hovers over me, pointing at the third-to-last line. “Beneath flower and shrub. That’s what we’re looking for. We were told to bring our spades, so I imagine we’re supposed to dig. And we should dig in a place marked by flowers and shrubs.” She shines her flashlight around the grove. “Flowers and shrubs… Flowers and shrubs…”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “Look in that back corner, beyond the last picnic table.”
She shines her light in the direction I’ve indicated. A row of rose bushes, alternating in red and white, line the back of the picnic grove.
Alissa kneels and shines her light on the soil beneath the bushes. “We need to find a place that looks like it’s been freshly dug up.”
I lay the shovels down, get on my hands and knees, and crawl up and down the row of bushes. Finally, right in between a white rosebush and a red one, I spy a spot where the soil is looser and more crumbly. A few earthworms are crawling across the surface, and some roots are exposed.
“Alissa,” I call over. “I think this might be where we want to dig.”
“Sounds good,” she says. “Hand me a spade.”
We place the flashlight on the ground pointing at us so that we have a little light, and then we both sink our spades into the earth. Within a few moments we have a square hole about a foot deep. Nothing so far.
Alissa wipes a bead of sweat from her brow. “Digging is harder work than I thought.”
“Yeah, soil is heavier than you’d think.”
“Do you think we’re in the right spot? How deep do you think they could bury something?”
I frown. “If it’s something they don’t want anyone finding, I think it will be pretty deep.”
“Right.” She returns her attention to our hole and continues digging away.
We keep going until we’ve gotten another few feet down.
“We should widen the hole,” I say. “I’ll work on that while you keep going down.”
I place my shovel on the side of the hole and press my foot into it, taking a new sliver of soil out.
“This is getting us nowhere, Maddox,” Alissa finally says. “I think we’re digging in the wrong spot.”
“We can’t be.” I look down at the soil. “This area was clearly dug up recently.”
She presses her lips together. “The original riddle said the evidence was hidden beneath flower and shrub. Not next to it.”
I widen my eyes. “So you think…?”
“It’s under one of these rosebushes. Not in the soil next to them.”
I bite my lip. “But if we dig up a bush, it’ll be a lot clearer that someone was here looking around.”
“All the more reason for them to place a rosebush over what was buried. But we can replant it once we’re done. I’ve done that in my friend Dinah’s garden a few times.” She kneels again, grabbing the flashlight. “It looks like the soil is fresher near the white rosebush, so I’m thinking that’s the one we need to dig up.”