“Don’t get yourself in trouble, Simos,” said Mr. Carrillo. The two of them wandered away from the vicinity of the window still talking. Tyler washed his hands and went out, his head full of confusing information. Men in suits asking about the farm? Old Indian ghost stories? He had thought things were already as strange as they could get. Apparently he had been wrong.
On the way back to the farm, with the stars spread overhead and the horse clop-clopping along, nobody spoke for a long time. At last Lucinda asked, “Ragnar, why do the Carrillos keep talking about ghosts at Ordinary Farm? I don’t think they know about the dragons or anything, but their grandmother was telling this story about… about… ”
“The Place of the Spirits,” said Tyler. “She said there were ghosts under the house, or something like that.”
Ragnar nodded, but as if he was thinking rather than agreeing. “I do not think there are ghosts under the house,” he said at last. “I think that is fair to say.”
Lucinda had grown dreamy again. Her voice soft, she said, “When is Uncle Gideon going to tell us what’s really going on at Ordinary Farm?” Tyler was glad she doing the asking for once, but he knew they weren’t going to learn anything that way.
Ragnar shook his head. “I have nothing to do with that, child.”
“I hope it’s not dead people,” Lucinda said drowsily. “I hope Grandma Paz was wrong about that. I don’t want to have to meet any dead people.”
Ragnar breathed in sharply but said nothing. Mr. Walkwell, sitting beside him, made a sound that Tyler at first thought was a laugh. He only realized when he heard it a second time that the old man had quietly begun to snore.
Chapter 16
“I t isn’t like you to go into town, young fellow,” said Gideon. “Are you courting someone? The young woman at the Dairy Duchess stand, perhaps?”
Colin tried to smile at the old man’s heavy-handed humor. “No, sir, I just wanted to do some shopping. Look at some computer magazines.”
“Well, well, it’s a pleasure to have you, of course. I won’t be able to spend any time with you-I have a very important meeting-but you’ll find plenty to do, I’m sure, a young fellow like you.” He said it, as most old people did, as though Colin was somehow being unfair just by being young.
“I’ll find things to do, sir.”
“Yes, certainly. I see you’ve got your briefcase with you-very businesslike!” Gideon had brought along a case of his own-or, rather, a large box that Ragnar had stashed in the trunk while Colin watched from an upstairs window. Colin knew what was in the box, too. But he had not, of course, bothered to mention any of this.
“Where should we drop you off?” Ragnar asked. The big man wanted it clear that Colin was getting out first, so that he wouldn’t be seeing where Gideon was having his “important meeting.” They thought they were so crafty! Colin almost laughed. “Just at the store. Where should I meet you-and when?”
“I can’t imagine what I’m doing will take more than an hour,” said Gideon. “Why don’t you meet us at the cafe and we’ll have a sundae before we head back. Even your mother couldn’t disapprove of that, could she? It’s the day after the Fourth, after all-we deserve a little celebration!”
“Oh, yes, Gideon,” said Colin, carefully suppressing any trace of sarcasm in his voice, “that would be super.”
Colin knew exactly where Gideon was going because the antiques dealer, Jude Modesto, had taken the bait of Colin’s email and told him where they would be meeting-at Gideon’s “secret office.”
Gideon Goldring was not the kind of man to transact his business in front of every curious soul in Standard Valley, and there were obvious reasons he didn’t want to have Modesto (or anyone else) visit Ordinary Farm, so he had taken the precaution of leasing a tiny office in a small, half-built business park several blocks away from Standard Valley’s main street. Luckily for Colin it was still twenty minutes until Gideon’s meeting, so the old man and Ragnar were going to get a cup of coffee first. They invited Colin to join them at the cafe but he declined politely. When they headed toward Rosie’s, Colin walked into the general store, then straight through and out the back door. Once he was out of sight, he tucked his briefcase under his arm and began to sprint toward the business park.
The building was small, and except for a chiropractor’s office and a secondhand store that was apparently closed today there were no other businesses yet in place: Gideon’s office was on the second floor above one of several empty storefronts. Colin paused at the bottom of the stairs long enough to slow his breathing and wipe the sweat from his forehead, then walked up and pushed the door open.
As Colin had hoped, Jude Modesto had let himself into Gideon’s sparsely furnished office and was waiting. The antiques dealer was plump and pink, his bulk overflowing the inexpensive office chair, and he had a little tuft of a mustache, which did not make him look as young and fashionable as he probably thought it did. Modesto’s glasses slid halfway down his nose as he mopped sweat from his face with a handkerchief. “You kept me waiting long enough,” he said crossly, staring Colin up and down. “Look at you-you’re just a kid! What do you want from me?”
Colin was very conscious that Gideon Goldring would be coming through the door in less than a quarter of an hour, but he did his best not to look hurried. He settled into the big chair that he supposed must usually be Gideon’s, unlatched his briefcase, then paused and gave the antiques dealer his sternest look. “Just one question, Modesto. Are you rich enough?”
“What nonsense is this?” Modesto wiped his forehead furiously, as if to scrub away even the memory of being talked to that way by a mere boy. “I’m a very important man…”
“Yes, I’m sure you are, but we’re not talking about important, we’re talking about rich. I’m asking whether or not you would like to be really, really rich. Are you happy dealing in trinkets, Modesto? Setting things up for the people who have the real money? Or would you like to get in on a truly big score”-Colin hoped he wasn’t overdoing the tough-guy lingo: he’d written the whole speech out and memorized it the night before-“a score that will set you up for life?”
“Are you some kind of crazy person?” Modesto struggled to get up out of the low chair. He looked like Humpty Dumpty about to fall off the wall. “Look, kid, I got your email and I said I’d meet you. Fine. I’ve met you, and now you’d better get going. Just because you live in Tinker’s house doesn’t mean you have anything I’m going to-”
“I have everything,” Colin said harshly. Time was getting short now and he had to hurry. “You’ll never get into Ordinary Farm on your own-Gideon Goldring will never let you. But if you help me you’ll get access to things you’ve never even dreamed of, things that make those antiques you’ve been selling for him-those vases and obsidian knives-look like cheap souvenirs. You’ll be rich beyond your dreams. Are you really that sure you’re not interested?”
Jude Modesto stared at him. Humpty Dumpty’s handkerchief came out, went back and forth across the wide, pink face. The chin, with its little sandy beard, twitched. “What are you offering? To get me onto the property?”
“That’s not going to happen. Now, as for what I do have-do you want to find out? Yes or no?”
Modesto glowered. “You have five minutes, kid,” the fat man said at last. “Start talking.”
“I won’t need that much time,” Colin said. “Now listen. I’m going to give you something today and you’re going to take it with you and get it tested. When you do, you’re going to be desperate to talk to me-you’re going to want to come and camp out by the gates of the farm. But you’re not going to do that. Instead, you’re going to send me an email, and it’s going to say one word-‘Yes.’ And then I’ll let you know where we go from there. Got it?”
Jude Modesto was clearly wrestling with the stillstrong impulse to heave himself up out of the chair and storm out of the room, but he was also impressed by Colin’s certainty. “You know, you’re a very rude young man.”
