ANOTHER CLUE

-Dis/Claimer-

x x x

. Chapter Six .

Carolyn’s perspective of the whole day confused even her.

She had actually kept herself under semi-decent control today when it came to the supremely annoying pest that was Riley Poole. They had completed almost every task Ben and Abigail had asked them to do while they were out that morning (well, she had up until the last hour; Riley had been overly obsessed with his stupid DJ table), and they even made a truce for a whole ten minutes (jumping in the pool was too tempting to pass up, and so was the whole bendy straw/ lemon slice/ tropical umbrella drink thing, not to mention they had bubble-gummed up the broken door frame by themselves). Heck, they even sat on the same porch swing and fell asleep before they could take a drink from their tall glasses of ice water (which was sort of depressing since the water was warm and the ice had melted by the time they had woken up).

After their short nap, as Riley had been right about, Ben and Abigail had them working nonstop to make sure every little detail was perfect up until it was time to get changed for the party. They hung more banners on the backside of the manor, put elegantly fashioned name cards at every plate, sat out the food across three tables at the front of the yard (without one thing being upset or spilled to Abigail’s relief), and the fireworks were ready at the back end of the yard.

Carolyn and Ben quickly finished cleaning the pool and released floating candles into it on little patriotic star holders. The pool light illuminated the water beautifully, too, as the sky began to dim around them. Riley was still busy putting the perfect touches on his play list when they had finished this, and though she wanted to, Carolyn fought off the urge to go ask Riley if his music was appropriate for the suit-and-tie scene from the Capitol. Abigail was running around fussing over everything imaginable; the twins’ outfits, their hair, the food, the pool, the lights, the tables, the seating order, the fireworks… She hadn’t missed a beat when it came down to it.

And much to Carolyn’s displeasure, Riley had been right about that, too.

He was still an annoying twit, though. That thought stayed confidently in her mind as she stood in front of the mirror on her wardrobe door securing the French twist in her hair before having to go downstairs to a collection of people she didn’t even want to associate with.

She hated her brother sincerely for his stupid timing of planning his ridiculous schemes. It had to be during a party where she had to mingle with people who asked who she was just so she could make the Gateses look good… It couldn’t be during the dead of night while they’re all on vacation or something… NoOo! She had to fake a disguise and everything just to find out little bits of information that might slip out relating to the portrait or the treasure… none of which had ever been spoken of, of course. Just her luck, or just what she had told her idiot brother would happen?

“They are not going to be that obvious,” she had told him. “It’s not necessary to do all of this. I got you out of jail. I don’t believe acting was part of the deal.”

“It will be less of a risk, trust me,” Ian had insisted. “Breaking passed security and waiting for them to vacate the premises would be too much of a task as opposed to going into their home and getting it when they least expect it.”

“Oh when? When they go to sleep?” she had asked, thickly sarcastic.

“No, during their annual Independence Day celebration. Mr. American Hero can never resist winning over the local populous since his alleged discovery of treasure, so he has had one every year for the passed five years. This year will be this sixth in which many attend, and I doubt a crowd of them will miss fireworks to crowd around a portrait. That is when you will secure it and bring it to me.”

“How do you know what Gates has been up to if you’ve been in prison?”

“I have other outsiders than you.”

“What’s my cut?” she had suddenly asked him.

“Ten percent.”

Carolyn remembered laughing at that. “I want fifty.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Forty.”

“Thirty.”

“Thirty-five. Take it or you can get the portrait by yourself. You proved you can get around security at the Gala well enough that you don’t need me.”

“Fine. Thirty-five.” She had smiled then; Ian was irritated at that point. “But that is only if you successfully retrieve the portrait. There is no reward if we can’t find the treasure, now is there?”

Carolyn now sighed openly as she let her tired arms fall from above her head after pinning up the rest of her hair. She should have kept her offer firm at fifty had she’d known all the crap she would be put through.

Especially with Super Geek…

Just then, the computer monitor came on. Carolyn looked out from behind the wardrobe door, and Ian’s face slowly but surely came into focus. She rolled her eyes and disappeared behind the door again. She hated him for putting her through this.

And for getting her a blue dress for this party. That may have made her angrier than the disguise part. She did not like how she looked in blue.

But then his voice came over the speakers in all of its sickly glory that it was becoming almost as annoying as Riley himself. She felt like dropping the monitor out the window after throwing another rude comment at him that he couldn’t counter. He was getting up there on her Hit List. Fast.

“I saw you,” was the first thing he said immediately. Frustrated, Carolyn jerked her head around the side of the wardrobe door.

“What?” she asked shortly. She knew if he said one word about the stupid mission or portrait or treasure, she was going to send her hairbrush through that screen.

“I’ve come to see how nice you look in that dress I got you,” he said with a smile. Carolyn looked away angrily even though he hadn’t mentioned anything on her taboo list. You just saved your life, buddy.

“I hate it,” she said quickly without moving. “You know I don’t like how I look in blue.”

“Yes, I know,” Ian, said airily. “But it’s too late for you to get another. Not unless you can produce another evening gown right now. Now let me see it.”

She didn’t move.

“Now,” he said with less patience.

Carolyn really wanted to destroy that monitor. Nevertheless, however, she closed the wardrobe door to allow Ian a better look at his stupid dress.

“You look stunning,” he complimented. “I like it.”

“Then you wear it,” she said in disgust.

“Thanks but no thanks,” Ian said, amusement clearly ruling over his expression. “You have a much better figure than I do.”

“Shut up. I’m done talking about the dress.”

“Then let’s cover our Five Ws, shall we?”

Carolyn stopped dead on her way to the door. “Let’s not,” she said, trying to resist busting the computer.

“Who, Carolyn?” She refused to reply. “Tell me now or be cut from your profit before you even receive it.”

Carolyn turned around. “You can’t do that. We had a deal.”

“Tell me who.”

Feeling four years old again, Carolyn gave into her brother. “Me,” she said boredly.

“And Walt.” Ian added with warning in his tone.

“And Walt…” Carolyn complied half-heartedly.

“What?”

“The George Washington at Princeton Portrait.”

“When?”

“Ten o’clock on the dot.”

“Where?”

“Fireplace on the first floor of the library.”

“Why?”

“To steal it. Duh.”

Ian huffed. “You really need to leave your sarcasm behind you. It does nothing but make you less appealing to talk to.”

“Did you ever think that’s why I’m sarcastic?” she asked quite seriously.

“Just go to your party,” Ian said, giving up on her like he had so many times before. “And remember your objective.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes,” he said humorously. “Nice dress.”

Then, the monitor went black. Carolyn frowned in thought after having a pulse of anger flow over her. Why couldn’t she just skip over the party bit and steal the painting? Was it possible to make two hours go by in two seconds? Though she wished it, she highly doubted it. After turning off the monitor and pulling the sparkling navy dress up a little more, Carolyn strode out of her room impatiently.

Her mind somewhere else, her feet guided her around the corner and readied her to go down the staircase in a short ten feet until her eyes looked up in slight surprise; at the other end of the corridor was a suited-up Riley who was just looking up from fixing his bowtie. Both of them stopped equally distanced from each other with similar expressions of awkwardness. They stood in silence looking at each other, but truth be told, neither of them wanted to admit that the other cleaned up pretty good.

Carolyn had thought Riley didn’t look half bad for being the Super Geek that he was. She thought how strange it would be if he had a big ‘S’ on a shirt underneath that suit like Superman did (except his would stand for Super Geek). She even wanted to smile a little when she saw that he had combed his hair. That was first.

And then there was Riley who had always thought Carolyn looked nice. He didn’t really know what he was thinking; he was just looking at her in question. Then, when Riley realized that he wasn’t even thinking anymore, he cleared his throat and began to walk forward. Carolyn did the same after their momentary hesitation.

They stopped at the top of the staircase still watching each other cautiously and curiously. It definitely felt strange. Riley became uncomfortable quickly and broke eye contact with her. He motioned for her to go down the stairs first, feeling that it was only good etiquette (not that she deserved it). Instead of another comment like ‘Oh, so you do have manners?’ coming from her, Carolyn’s mouth was tugging into a smile as she started down and Riley followed. He didn’t know what possessed her to possibly smile.

“I still hate you,” he said to her quickly as they descended the stairs.

“Me too.”

Riley was sort of scared by the thought that he had heard humor in her voice. Treading on unsure ground, he dared to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

Very unsure now, he decided to ignore her brief moment of creepiness. That had been by far the scariest thing he had ever seen her do. She had smiled. Cursing the little voice in his head that reminded him that he sort of liked it when she smiled, he stepped off of the bottom step and onto the tile floor only to see Carolyn standing right beside him. He found this very strange. He was afraid to look at her. What exactly was she doing?

He plucked up the courage to look over at her and raised an eyebrow. He began to walk towards the back door, and Carolyn went right along beside him. Riley sighed, trying to loosen up. “You mean you actually want to be seen walking into a social event with me?” he asked as they kept walking together.

“It’s not like we’re handcuffed,” she mumbled reluctantly. “Like anyone’s going to pay attention to us coming out of the house anyways.”

Riley stopped. Carolyn, confused, stopped and looked at him. He looked very scared.

“What?” she asked.

“Where’s Carolyn?”

“I

“I’m right here,” she said in confusion. “Are you blind?”

“No, I mean Miss Priss Carolyn,” Riley clarified. “What did you do with her? You’re the Scary Polite Carolyn.”

Her eyes narrowed and became small. She even gave him that look. Riley was suddenly relieved; it was a look he recognized. Now it was Carolyn’s turn to quirk an eyebrow as Riley started walking again.

“Well at least I know you’re still Barbie,” he said off her look. “What is this? Evening Gown Edition?”

“Don’t call me Barbie,” she said warningly.

“Sorry, sorry.” Riley looked ahead as they began to approach the doors. The silence in the air made him go back to a question he had not really received an answer to. “Why are you walking with me again?” he asked.

Carolyn rolled her eyes. “Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Just go.”

“Fine.” Riley pulled his head up again as they reached the doors. He went and slid it open and moved aside to let Carolyn go first. His eyes wandered onto her again as she paused. “Nice dress by the way,” he finally got out.

Carolyn’s head snapped in his direction suddenly. He leaned back in surprise as she gaped at him. What? Was that a bad thing to compliment the dress? Last time he looked, it got the opposite response from asking how old a woman was, and he had already loused up on that one. He waited nervously for her to do something, but she just looked down at the floor a moment and back up at him quizzically.

“You think so?” she asked.

Riley didn’t know what to say with Carolyn. Either way, he felt like he was going to get punched.

“Yes,” he said after swallowing a lump in his throat. After a moment of consideration, he added, “You… look nice in blue.”

Carolyn just stared at him until her expression softened a little. ‘Really? I think I look terrible in blue.”

“No,” Riley said, shaking his head, as he looked her over again guiltily. “You look really good in it. Makes you look… thinner…”

Riley let the last word escape him only on accident before he bit his lip. Now, he had questioned her age and her weight, the No Zones for women. He was ready to run, but Carolyn didn’t look at him as hard and as intimidating as he thought she would. She just looked at him in thought.

“Did you just compliment me?” she asked slowly.

Riley was ready to fall over now. He didn’t know why, but maybe it had something to do with how strange she was acting, how much he wasn’t prepared for it, and how nice she looked. He mouthed wordlessly at her but nothing came out for a moment. Finally, something plausible came to the tip of his tongue that he could say. He looked at her calmly as possible as she waited for him to speak.

“I still hate you,” he declared. Carolyn was feeling a small smile come to her as she looked at Riley knowingly. He stood there stiff as a board trying not to panic.

“Right,” she said in a calm tone. “I hate you, too.”

“Good. Just so we’re clear.”

“Crystal,” Carolyn said.

“Okay then. Shall we?”

He motioned for her to go out the door, and she did so slowly. Once she had stepped onto the porch, she took in the whole scene of the twenty or so people that had arrived so far and we scattered around the yard talking and laughing with each other. She went to turn around and see Riley, but he was gone. Puzzled, she looked around. He was making a mad dash for his DJ table. She rolled her eyes.

“Figures…”

Now having nothing to really do, Carolyn went to find her seat amongst the sea of sixty-some-odd chairs. She didn’t look very long; she was on the outside of the left table farther away from the house. She was three places from the end, and since nobody was really around, she snuck a few peaks at the surrounding name cards.

‘Alicia J. Cooper,’ the one in front of her said. She didn’t know her.

‘Franklin Q. Cooper.’ Q? Who has a middle name that starts with Q? This strangely named person sat on the right of Mrs. Cooper. She didn’t know him either.

Carolyn picked up the one on her own left. ‘Peter R. Sadusky.’ She thought she recognized the name, but nothing came to mind immediately. She checked the one on her right.

Her face fell.

‘Riley J. Poole.’

“Damn…” she muttered. Trying to be discreet, she looked around at the surrounding name cards to find a suitable switch. ‘Vivian C. Brook’ didn’t sound so bad, so she tried to swap her and Riley’s spot, but before she could, a voice interrupted her. She froze.

“What are you doing?”

Carolyn looked up and saw Riley standing there. She fumbled over her thoughts a moment until something came out.

“Vivian C. Brook was in your place,” she said, flashing the name card at him. “I was just switching them back to their proper place.”

“Uh huh…” Riley was not convinced.

“Well I should know,” she said defensively. “I helped set them out an hour ago.”

“And you willingly put me next to you?”

“There are worse people to sit beside,” she lied, replacing the name cards to their original spots. She cursed herself for being caught. And she hadn’t done this table, Abigail had. Flustered, she tried to think of something else to say. “I thought you were the DJ?” she asked, changing the subject.

Riley caught on, but he played along anyway. “After I make a play list and hit play, I’m a free man. It’s a continual thing.”

“And you had to set a huge table up for that little laptop?”

“It’s a nice table,” Riley said, looking over his shoulder at it.

He looked back at Carolyn who just sat down shaking her head. He carefully took the seat next to her and stared at his plate. Great. Now he had to endure sitting beside her during dinner. He tried to look anywhere but at her. More guests were arriving now, the lights from the bushes and pool were jumping out in the fading remainders of the daylight, and the smell of the food was taunting him.

Especially the steak. He wanted a steak.

The little glowing fountains on the food tables separated drink from food from desert, and the deserts looked great, too. He hoped that he’d be able to get strawberry shortcake. Abigail made one good strawberry shortcake.

Suddenly, the little voice in Riley’s head was congratulating him on thinking about food instead of Carolyn. Food did so much more for him anyways. He couldn’t live without food. Plus, it tasted good. And it looked good. It smelled good. In sounded good. It even felt good. Food pleased all of his senses while Carolyn just got on his nerves.

Now he stole a glance her way. Okay. So maybe she looked good, too, and her perfume was a little attractive, but he dared not think of anything else. That would be crossing a line he knew didn’t even exist. Plus, it was just as creepy as Scary Polite Carolyn. Wide-eyed with his own thoughts, Riley turned back to his plate and picked his fork out of the silverware bundle. He twirled it around to keep himself occupied.

“What time is it?” Carolyn asked him suddenly. Riley didn’t know why he was, but he looked down at his watch.

“Eight twelve,” he said before scanning the party guests. “Ben better hurry it up. I’m eating at eight fifteen welcome speech or no welcome speech.”

“Aren’t we impatient?” Carolyn asked.

“No, just hungry,” he said. “All I ate today was a turkey sandwich. And I chewed all of that bubble gum with you.”

“How is our door frame holding up?” Carolyn asked curiously, leaning into the table to get a better look from across the yard.

“Pretty good,” he said, “considering it hasn’t fallen yet.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah… my idea…” Riley leaned back in his chair twirling the fork again. Carolyn looked at him in disbelief.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but if I hadn’t said a word, you wouldn’t have thought of anything.”

“Sure I would’ve. Eventually…”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you, too, Barbie.”

Suddenly, Riley’s face was stinging. He shook his head for a minute in shock, trying to comprehend that she had just slapped him and was continuing to hit him. It was the tent all over! What did he do!

Oh yeah. Barbie.

“Ow! Stop, stop it-“

He grabbed one of her wrists as faint clinking could be heard somewhere distant from their struggle. He was about to look up triumphantly at her when he saw her other hand drawn back and ready to hit hard. He leaned away in his chair, almost falling into the one behind him when Carolyn went to strike. She missed and hit the back of his head, but that didn’t stop her from trying again.

Riley gave a disgruntled look of annoyance as his chair suddenly toppled over; he took the chair behind him and Carolyn with him to the ground where she continued to assault him. Finally, he had hold of both of her wrists when he noticed how quiet it was except for his music playing in the background. Carolyn noticed as well, and they saw a sharply dressed man standing over them with a kind smile.

“May I have my chair back?” he asked.

Riley immediately threw Carolyn off of him, stood up, and rubbed his hands on his jacket before picking up the man’s chair and setting back in place. He held out his hand for an apology. The man shook it courteously.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Riley said sincerely.

“It’s all right, Mr. Poole,” he said. “Are you and the young lady okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Riley said, ignoring Carolyn who was rising up from the ground with a murderous glare stabbing at his back. Riley felt it, too, but he tried to keep hi attention on Mr. Sadusky.

“Is she okay, too?” he asked, motioning towards Carolyn. He smiled at her, and she returned it quickly as she picked up her chair. Riley turned around to see her.

Unfortunately yes…

“She looks fine,” Riley said. “Are you all right, Carolyn?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said curtly as she sat down. Suddenly, Ben rushed over to them.

“Are you two done yet?” he asked Riley and Carolyn. “I’d very much like to talk sometime this evening.”

“We’re good,” Riley said. “Just talking to a super official.”

Ben looked up and smiled at his old accomplice. “Good evening, Mr. Sadusky. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he replied as he shook his hand as well.

“Well, you’ll have to excuse me now,” Ben said, lowering his voice. “I have sixty people waiting to attack me if they don’t eat in the next five minutes.”

Mr. Sadusky nodded obligingly, and Ben went to take off, but not before stopping to reprimand Riley and Carolyn as they sat down.

“Can you two behave, or do I have to separate you?”

“Ben, go talk. I’m hungry,” Riley said.

Ben left, the whole of the yard now quieting again as he took the center of the yard. A few guests had yet to arrive, but they would come in time. He smiled at them all, and they smiled back. Well, all except for Riley and Carolyn who were too busy trying to ignore each other more than the other.

“Sorry about the delay,” Ben began. “The couple at the end of table three are okay now, is that right, Riley?”

Horrified, Riley and Carolyn stopped exchanging deadly glances and looked up at Ben with their mouths gaping. Riley wasn’t going to answer since he saw the humor and mock in Ben’s playful smile as he looked at him expectantly, and finally Riley stood and said, “Yes, we’re fine.” He waved at everyone awkwardly.

A very discontent Carolyn looked away. Full of anger, she dug the heel of her shoe sharply into Riley’s leg. Riley opened his mouth as he sat back down, but no sound came out. She smiled, quite pleased with herself. Riley looked at her incredulously as Ben continued.

“Great,” he said. “Well everyone, welcome to the Barbeque, and Happy Independence Day.” A small round of applause went around. Riley kicked Carolyn discreetly under the table.

“Tonight’s celebration is, as any is on the Fourth of July, in honor of the fifty-five men who on this day two hundred and thirty years ago declared this nation a free nation for all who live in it.”

Carolyn kicked Riley again with her heel. Now he was getting mad. She was wrinkling his pant leg.

“Thanks to these brave men, we are able to stand here today and say and do and think what we so choose to. We even get to eat and set off fireworks. It’s like the American Chinese New Year.”

The guests laughed heartedly.

Riley kicked Carolyn harder.

“And since, on this great day, we not only get freedom and fireworks, we still get hungry, so we’ll begin dinner here in a minute.”

Carolyn determinedly kicked him back even harder. Riley let out a hushed exasperated moan as he doubled over momentarily. That one broke skin.

“Fireworks will be going off around ten o’clock,” – Ben checked his own wristwatch – “and I believe that’s it. I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight!”

More applause from the crowd before everyone rushed out of their chairs for the food.

More bravery from Riley as he kicked Carolyn again, but once everyone wasn’t looking, Carolyn slipped her foot out of her shoe, held it high, and stabbed Riley with it in the arm. He openly cried out in surprise.

“Ow! You’re crazy!” He tried shielding himself while he said this and was continually being hit with her shoe, but she eventually quit, took her plate angrily, and went up to join the crowd at the food tables.

Riley sat up, straightening his jacket and trying to dust the gray shoe marks off of its sleeves, but they were as stubborn as Carolyn and wouldn’t come off. He sighed angrily at the condition of his suit now as he got up to go get some food. What did he do? What? Was he breathing? Was that it?

As he approached the table, he went down the line between two people he didn’t know. After picking up a glass of sparkling white wine, he made his way to the actual food part, but his face fell. The day could not possibly get any worse.

There were no steaks left.

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