Ava & Carol Detective Agency: The Curse of the Red Devil by Thomas Lockhaven

Author:Thomas Lockhaven [Lockhaven, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twisted Key Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-05-09T22:00:00+00:00

12

Elliot Gold

A row of powerful spotlights illuminated the horseshoe drive in front of Camp Adventura. The rain had stopped, and now light rippled on the surface of the newly formed mud puddles. Two gasoline generators hummed in the night, powering the newly placed spotlights.

Ava crouched in front of her window, peeking outside. Sanchez was perched atop a jeep, a rifle lying across his legs. The orange tip of his cigarette blazed in the night.

“Hopefully Sanchez doesn’t have to chase anyone. His lungs probably look like beef jerky.”

“Gross,” laughed Carol. “Ew, think about it, maybe that’s what jerky is made out of.”

Ava snorted. “Thanks for the visual.”

“Three minutes till ten,” announced Carol quietly. “Let’s hope Elliot’s right about his plan.”

“He’s a smart kid, and he looked pretty confident. Well…I think he looked confident. He stays hidden in that hoodie, so who knows.”

“He’s so mysterious,” gushed Carol. “Such an enigma!”

“Oh my God,” Ava groaned. “You’re absolutely hopeless, you know that?”

“Someday you’ll grow a heart, and you’ll know what it feels like to be in love.”

Ava rolled her eyes and sighed. “I hope not.”

Sanchez flicked his cigarette into the sky. Ava imagined a miniature asteroid burning through the darkness, plummeting to the earth—an explosion of sparks flying away on impact. “And that’s what happened to the dinosaurs,” whispered Ava softly.

“What?” whispered Carol.

“Nothing, don’t distract me. I’m being vigilant.”

Sanchez leaped from the jeep, rested his rifle on the hood, and stretched his arms above his head. He moved his hips from side to side like a metronome.

“He’s up and moving,” said Ava, her face glued to the window. “I’ve either just witnessed his weekly calisthenics routine or he’s about to break into the Macarena.”

Sanchez walked from one end of the horseshoe-shaped drive to the other. He fidgeted in his pocket for a moment, and then lit another cigarette. For a long moment, he stood motionless, his head cocked to the side, staring into the jungle.

“Is he looking this way?” asked Carol.

“Nope, he seems to be focused on something in the jungle.”

Carol quietly unlocked their door and opened it just a sliver. The loud drone of the generators and the smell of gas filled the room. She crawled across the floor and joined Ava beneath the window. “Remember, as soon as Sanchez is gone, we bolt for the side of the cabin where he can’t see us, and off into the woods.”

“I’m all over it,” whispered Ava.

A door slammed, making both girls jump. They could hear the sound of feet pounding downstairs—and then a voice. Elliot’s voice, loud and shrill. He raced behind the two jeeps, screaming, “It’s in my room! It’s in my room!”

Sanchez dashed over to him, shouting at him in Portuguese and pointing back to his cabin.

The girls could see Elliot pleading with him, jabbing his finger at his cabin. Miquel came racing out of the guides’ house, dressed in polka-dotted boxers and a T-shirt—with a machete in his hand.

Elliot was waving his arms hysterically, yelling about something in his cabin. Miquel had his hand on Elliot’s shoulder.

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