What Could Go Wrong? by Willo Davis Roberts

Author:Willo Davis Roberts
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

Chapter Ten

I didn’t know if the awful carpeting had psychological effects on us or not, but I knew I wanted to get out of that place as fast as I could. I hadn’t seen The Enemy come in—the entrance door was the one place I couldn’t watch because that divider screened it from our view—but I was positive they’d come here because we were here already.

That meant they’d been following us, watching us, even though we hadn’t seen them. And that meant we really had something to worry about.

Eddie spoke in a whisper. “I feel like a great big bird—a hawk or an eagle—is stuck in my chest, trying to get out. It . . . hurts.”

“Mine, too,” I whispered back.

Charlie didn’t pay any attention to us. He was looking around, and then he said in a slightly louder than normal voice, “We’ll have a long ride to Aunt Molly’s. Maybe we better make a pit stop before she shows up, okay? We’ll get the check on the way out.”

I started to remind him I’d used the rest room just before the plane landed, and then I realized that what he’d said hadn’t been intended for us. It had been intended to carry to the men on the other side of that flimsy divider.

I swiveled my head around so fast it hurt. What was he talking about? What did he intend to do?

“The rest rooms are back there,” he said. “Right next to the kitchen. Meet you at the cash register in a few minutes.”

The rest rooms wouldn’t have any outside windows to escape through, I thought. But I slid out of my chair and went with the boys, hoping Charlie had a genuine idea to get us out of here without The Enemy right on our heels. I couldn’t tell to look at Charlie how he felt, but it was obvious Eddie was just as scared as I was.

We entered the narrow corridor opening beneath the sign for the rest rooms, Charlie leading the way, and then I saw it.

There was a doorway opening into the kitchen from that hallway, too.

A fat man in a white apron and a little hat looked up, startled, when Charlie led the way into the kitchen.

“No admittance back here,” he said. He had a big cast-iron frying pan in his hand, and it looked to me like a good way to enforce his rules if he wanted to.

“There a back door out of here? Into a different corridor than the one in from the restaurant?” Charlie asked urgently. He was carrying the bill the waiter had left with our desserts, and there were two twenty-dollar bills on top of it, all the cash he had. “Somebody’s after us—not the cops or anything like that, some pretty bad dudes—and we don’t want them to see us leave. You can keep the change, whatever’s over the amount of the bill.”

I saw suspicion in the man’s face, and then he looked at the money and checked the total on the bill.

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