The Truth According to Blue by Eve Yohalem

Author:Eve Yohalem [Yohalem, Eve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2020-05-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

True Fact: Everything that can go wrong does go wrong. (TF supplied by some guy named Murphy.)

Two days later, it was pouring rain. Zero visibility. The water so murky and choppy that trying to find the treasure would be like looking for a penny in a washing machine on suds cycle. The Windfall, on the other hand, didn’t need eyes, human or mechanical. Not when they had towable underwater machines capable of detecting the presence of iron by disturbances in the magnetic field.

Which was why they were out treasure hunting, and I was in the garage grooming Otis. Because just like it’s Otis’s job to take care of me, it’s my job to take care of him.

Otis loves being groomed. He goes to his happy place—stands very straight with his eyes half-closed, and every now and then his whole coat shivers.

A car pulled into the driveway with Jules’s dad’s yoga instructor at the wheel. Jules got out, and the car drove away.

“This blows,” Jules said.

I put down the comb and picked up the nail clipper. Otis gave me a front paw. “Agreed.” I snipped. “But I have a plan. We need to make sure Fitz was telling the truth about the permits. Maybe he made the whole thing up just to get rid of us. And if he does have one of these permit things, maybe there’s an exception for students or something like that. Other paw.”

Otis obliged.

“Good,” Jules said. “And even if there’s no exception, we keep looking anyway. What’s he going to do? Tow us out of the water?”

Otis rolled onto his back so I could do his rear paws and Jules could rub his belly at the same time. I didn’t like to think about what the Windfall would do if we kept looking. Fitz had a tough reputation: When he bought his airline, he fired the president—who also happened to be his wife. For his kids’ tenth birthdays, he made each of them spend a week alone in a Maine forest with nothing but a canteen and a hunting knife. One time, on a bet, he went waterskiing behind a blimp with a broken arm. I learned all this on the Internet.

“Teeth.”

Otis pretended not to hear me. He hates getting his teeth brushed. If his breath didn’t smell like fish I wouldn’t bother, but it does so I do.

“Teeth, Otis,” I said, using my I mean it voice.

He stuck his nose in Jules’s armpit. She laughed.

“Give me back my dog’s head or I’ll tell him to lick your face,” I said.

“Ew.” Jules pushed Otis away.

Otis knew he was defeated. He drooped his head and bared his fangs. I pulled up his lip and brushed.

After I finished, I stood up. “Okay, let’s go talk to Laurie.”

“Aren’t you going to wash your hands?” Jules said.

Why would I? “Of course,” I said.

Since there was no lightning, we motored to town in the boat. We had a choice: wear foul-weather gear and be hot but dry, or wear bathing suits and be cool but wet.

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