The Prada Paradox (27 page)

“Did you find the antidote?” Andy asks.

Blake’s expression tightens. “I scoured the place. It’s not there.”

“It has to be there,” I say, fear welling. “It’s almost three o’clock. Ithas to be there.”

“Believe me,” he says. “I know exactly what time it is. And I searched that place from top to bottom. It’s not there. We must have got the clue wrong.”

“We can’t have,” Andy says. “It fits perfectly. Maybe we should go back. All look together.”

I look at Blake. “He’s right. What else could the clue mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about that all the way over here,” he admits. “I don’t have an idea.”

There’s something so dejected about the tone of his voice that I reach out and squeeze his hand. “Don’t you dare give up, Blake Atwood. We still have plenty of time.”

The smile he gives me is clearly forced, but at least it’s there. For the moment, that’s enough. He pulled me out of a black funk earlier; there’s no way I’m going to let him slip into one. Not when we still have time left to save him.

Andy stands up. “Well, I’m going back to the carousel. We’re not doing any good sitting here.” He nods at me. “And I’m not letting you out of my sight. So come on.”

“No.”

“Devi…” A tone of warning laces his voice.

“Blake said he searched, and I believe him. We interpreted something wrong. There’s no other explanation.”

“The explanation is that he missed it,” Andy says.

“No, I didn’t,” Blake counters.

Since I’m really not in the mood, I look to Blake. “Do you still have the note?”

“Right here.”

He opens it flat on the table, and I scoot closer for a good look. I’m certain Andy is seething, but I don’t care. The man might be sweet, but I know Blake. And there’s never been a more thorough man. If he says the clue’s not in the carousel house, I believe him.

I examine the text again, frowning as I read the nonsensical message:

You can do-si-do

And then do more

You can pull horsetails from the floor

By the ocean, by the sea

From an age long past, but still here to see.

Don’t talk, don’t speak, you can’t, you’re full

All it will take is a little pull.

Unfortunately, the carousel house seems to be exactly where the cryptic riddle leads.

I shove that thought from my head. The carousel is wrong. Which means we’re looking at the clue wrong. We just need a change of perspective, and it will all fall into place. That, at least, is what I tell myself.

“I still think we have to pull the clue physically from something,” I begin. “We thought it was a horse’s mouth, but maybe it’s justlike a mouth. A box? Like a post office box or something?”

“What about a radio? Full of something that’s not supposed to be there so that it doesn’t work?”

I think Blake’s suggestion is a good one, but Andy just rolls his eyes. “Thenyou come up with something,” I say, irritably.

“All right,” he says, clearly upset that I’m upset. “The ocean and sea reference. That one seems clear enough. Maybe the aquarium? Sea horses?”

Since that’s such a good suggestion, I feel guilty for my snippiness. “That’s brilliant,” I say.

He stands up. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Blake says. “That’s only part of the clue. I’d rather be certain than waste time on another wild goose chase.”

“What else can it be?” Andy asks.

“I don’t know,” Blake admits. “But we said that about the carousel, and we were wrong.”

Andy sits. “Fine, but I think this fits. Even the reference to a past age. Aren’t sea horses supposed to be sort of leftover prehistoric creatures?”

“I think so,” I say. “They sure look like it.”

“But what about the reference to horsetails? Or the floor?” Blake asks. “I’m thinking that’s where we went wrong last time. And, yes, I did check the horse’s tails on the carousel. You should have seen the looks I got from a three-year-old.”

“How many things can horsetails refer to?” I ask.

“No idea,” he admits.

“Let’s find out.” I signal to the waitress, who rushes right over.

“Listen,” I say. “Have you got the Internet on your register computers?”

“Sure,” she says.

“Could I use one for just a second?”

She licks her lips. “I’m not supposed to…” She trails off, and I’m just about to switch to begging mode when she adds, “But maybe for an autograph?”

“Sure,” I say with a laugh. “I didn’t realize you recognized me.”

She shrugs. “We’re not supposed to gawk, you know? And considering what you’re wearing, I figured you’re trying to keep a low profile.”

Ouch. I recover nicely, though. “I am, actually. In fact, you guys have logo gimme caps, right? Can you add one to our bill?”

She agrees, and leads me to the computer, leaving me there with Andy hovering behind me while she runs off to get my cap. Blake stays at the table, just a few feet away, afraid that if we all gather round we’ll be calling way too much attention to ourselves.

I pull up Google, then immediately type inHorsetails Santa Monica. My finger is aiming for the enter key as Andy pipes up with, “We don’t know it’s Santa Monica. You should put inocean orsea. ”

“Dammit,” I say. “You’re right.” But it’s too late. Google’s doing its thing, and I’m already mousing back to the search box, preparing to revise the search, when I see the results and realize I don’t have to. Because the answer is right there in front of us:Dinosaurs.

Chapter44

“Ican’t believe we missed that,” Blake says as we rush south down the Third Street Promenade. Now that we know the answer, I have to agree with him. It’s completely obvious. And yet, if we hadn’t made it to Santa Monica—if I hadn’t blown that first search by not typing “ocean”—it might have taken us several more hours to figure out.

Hours that Blake didn’t have.

This time we’re certain that we’re right. The Santa Monica dinosaurs are topiary dinosaurs, which means they’re formed from wire upon which a creeper-type plant grows. The dinosaurs are life-size (well, I think they are—they’re big, anyway). And they’re flanked by a plant called a horsetail.

Hallelujah.

According to the Web site we found, “horsetails” are a reed-like plant that actually survived from prehistoric times, so it’s fitting that it’s there with the dinosaurs.

And if that weren’t enough to make us certain, the “do-si-do and do more” part of the clue really sealed the deal. Because a promenade is part of a square dance, too—the “more” referred to in the clue. Since the dinosaurs are on the Third Street Promenade—a shopping/walking street in Santa Monica that is closed to vehicular traffic for several blocks—we knew we had to be right.

Our only real problem was which dinosaur to go to, because there is one guarding each entrance of the promenade. For no particular reason, we decided to go first to the south entrance. It’s by far the busier. And I think, from the way the road and beach curve, that it’s technically a tiny bit closer to the ocean.

If we’re wrong, we can always backtrack.

It doesn’t take us long to get there, and now we’re standing under Dino, trying to decide what to do.

“I think we were right about the horses,” Blake says.

“Are you nuts?” I counter. “It has to be one of the dinosaurs.”

“Not about that,” he says. “I mean about the clue being in their mouths.”

I gape at him. I know he’s right, but still. “How are we supposed to get up there?” I say, even though I know the answer.

“We climb.”

“You meanI climb. That thing can’t possibly support your weight.” Hopefully it can support my hundred and seven pounds. I mean, these dinosaurs were built to be permanent, right? So surely they didn’t use chicken wire.

But it’s not the thought of collapsing in a heap that has me hesitating. It’s the crowd. I look around us at the throngs of moms with strollers, tourists with shopping bags, street vendors with their wares. It’s not yet five, so the walk isn’t as busy as it will be in the evening or on a weekend, but it’s still plenty bustling.

At the moment, no one is paying attention to me. But I know damn well that if I haul off and start scaling a dinosaur, all eyes are going to be on me. And someone will undoubtedly recognize me.

And what do you bet somebody will have a camera?

Five minutes later, I realize that it’s even worse than I thought. I’m halfway up the dinosaur (which, honestly, isn’t that hard to climb), and people are not only snapping pictures of me, they’re shouting out to passersby that I’m up there, and tossing questions at me as I climb.

“Hey, Devi!”

“That’s Devi Taylor.” (Flash of cameras.)

“The actress? What’s she doing on a dinosaur?”

“Publicity.”That from Blake. “It’s just a PR stunt. I’m Blake Atwood, Devi’s costar. Autographs, anyone?”

I keep climbing, sure I’m either going to laugh or cry. So much for keeping a low profile, but since I hardly want to field dozens of questions about what the heck I’m doing on a dinosaur, I have to admit Blake’s jumped in with the right approach.

“So this is forGivenchy ?” someone yells up.

“What else?” I answer, because—hey—in a way it is.

By the time I’ve reached the dinosaur’s head, we’ve gathered quite the crowd. My fear, of course, is that Janus is out there. That he’ll see the cluster of fans, see me on Dino, and take aim.

Just the thought makes me work a bit faster, and I hook one arm around the dinosaur and shove the other one down his throat.

Nothing.

I bristle, fighting tears, because I really don’t want to repeat this whole process on the other end of the street with a different dinosaur. But I’m afraid that’s exactly what I’m going to have to do.

No,my brain screams in denial, and I decide to listen. I shift my position so that I can shove my arm farther in, then I do just that.

I feel bits of vines and the raw edges of wire as they scrape my arm, but I shove in all the way up to my shoulder. I’m in the throat now, and I feel around, wishing I could see inside, but this time of year the topiary is too damn thick to even pick aside.

My fingers curve up, down, and then—yes!

Something small and plastic, stuck to the back of the wires. I grab on tight and tug, then feel the thing pull loose from what is probably strong tape. I bring my arm out slowly, terrified of letting go and having the package drop down into Dino’s tummy.

Below me, fans are still screaming, but I’m too lost in happiness to hear them. I look down and give Blake a thumbs-up sign. When I look up again, I see him.

Janus.

And right then, I know that he’s seen me, too.

Chapter45

“Blake! Catch!”

Blake looked up, expecting to catch a package, and then found himself holding his arms out to catch Devi instead. He managed it with anooph as the crowd around them applauded.

“Run,”Devi hissed, pointing north.

Blake didn’t know if she’d found his antidote or not, but he wasn’t about to waste any time. “Thanks for watching our stunt,” he called out. “Now you get to see how it ends.”

With Devi’s hand tight in his and Andy following on their heels, he sprinted up the street. He didn’t know exactly what she’d seen, but he could only assume it was Janus. And from the commotion he heard behind them, he assumed he was right.

“This way,” Andy said, urging them over to the right and the crowded sidewalk. An arcade was there, with a fast-food place opening onto the sidewalk, and games and stores inside along an open sidewalk.

They barreled inside, ignoring the people who shouted obscenities in protest.

“Are you sure about this?” Devi asked.

“There’s a door in the back,” Andy explained. “Opens onto an alley.”

Sure enough, just seconds later they found the back door. They raced through, then turned to the left, trotting up the alley until they reached the back of the huge Barnes & Noble.

“In here,” Devi said, turning down the street toward the front of the store.

“Devi, wait!” Blake shouted. “He could be there.”

She slowed to a trot, then waited for him to catch up. When he did, she held up the bag, which contained a single CD. “No antidote,” she said as his gut twisted. “Just another clue.”

“Shit.” Since that summed up the situation nicely, he didn’t say anything else. Just a few hours left until he was toast. And right now, the odds weren’t stacking in their favor.

“They have listening stations in there,” Devi said, pointing toward the building. “We have to find out where to go next. And the car’s parked too far away to be any use to us.” They’d left the car in a parking lot on the south side of the pier, quite a trek from the promenade. Which meant they couldn’t use the CD player in Blue, or the laptop she had left in the trunk.

Blake knew she was right; they didn’t have time to go back to the car, and they needed to maneuver back down the promenade to get to the bookstore. And at that moment, the extent of what she was willing to do for him truly hit home. The killer wasright there, with a gun aimed at her. And still she climbed the damn dinosaur. And now she was willing to go back into the battle zone, all because he needed the antidote—and he needed it now.