ANOTHER CLUE

-Dis/Claimer-

x x x

. Chapter Sixteen .

In the mid afternoon, Riley and Carolyn got off of the plane in Philadelphia, a cautious glance over their shoulder every few steps in case Ian decided to pop out and ambush them. Without obstacle however, they left the airport with their dirty piece of copper in tact in Carolyn’s purse.

Together, they walked into a small hotel, Carolyn feeling conspicuous in a wrinkled business suit with Riley in worn street clothes following her. She stepped up to the front desk with a sigh and a hint of embarrassment.

“We need a room for one night,” she said.

“We have three rooms available still, so good timing,” the clerk said. Carolyn and Riley smiled just to get her to continue. “We have two honeymoon suites at 189 per night, and we have a standard suite at 129.”

Riley’s face contorted. Honeymoon suite. Good God.

“Which would you prefer?” the woman asked.

“Standard,” both Riley and Carolyn chorused quickly. They looked over at each other uncomfortably. Carolyn then looked away, and Riley cleared his throat as the woman handed him their key and a few pamphlets. His heart still hammered, Carolyn not yet lifting her head at the same thought that had gone through his head.

Honeymoon suite. Them.

It was… a confusing thought…

“Payment will be accepted when you check out tomorrow before noon,” the clerk explained suddenly as they looked up. “Room service is number nine on your room phone, and enjoy your stay.”

x x x

Later that night, Riley stood over the vanity sink in their room with all of the lights above the mirror on. The piece of copper the etching of the first American flag was on the edge of the sink laying nearby. He moved the little soaps and shampoos and hairdryer out of his way as Carolyn walked behind him in a cream cotton bathrobe, stopping to collect the little soap dish. Riley stared at her via mirror briefly.

“What are doing?” she asked.

“Getting ready to clean this,” he replied. Carolyn sorted through the tiny bottles to find one she wanted to use.

“How are you going to do that?” she questioned without looking up. Riley was glad she didn’t; he was still ogling somewhat.

Bad. And did anyone tell him that standard suites only had one bed? No.

Oh yes. Definitely an interesting night to come, he thought fearfully.

Then, a knock came at the door, releasing him from his closure. He moved Carolyn towards the bathroom at this.

“Room service,” he said simply. He coaxed her into the bathroom and closed the door before answering to the man with a small silver tray.

“You requested a pitcher of vinegar and a dish of… salt, sir?”

Riley took the tray from the perplexed doorman with an odd smile. “Thank you,” he said in a small voice.

“May I get you anything else?” the man asked carefully as Riley went to shut the door.

“Oh no, I have everything I need, thanks.” He stopped, thrusting the door open quickly again. “Oh wait, um… what sort of dinner menu do you have?”

“We-“

“Nevermind, just get us the special, soup of the day, chicken, whatever,” Riley said quickly. “Just bring us food. And some sort of nonalcoholic drink.”

“We do not serve alcohol to standard suites-“

“Wonderful. Sensational. Thanks… Ted. You’ve been great.”

Riley quickly shut the door tight and locked it, leaving the poor doorman confused out in the hall. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he just wanted to clean this stupid copper flag and figure out where the treasure was. That’s all. Just get some treasure for all his handy work, make the finder’s fee, and call it a day.

He put the small tray on the sink’s edge and plugged up the drain. He emptied the pitcher of vinegar into the large basin, pouring in half of the container of salt next. He stirred the mixture in the sink with a few swirls of his hand, making a face at strong smell. After shaking off his hand, Riley picked up the piece of copper and dropped it into the sink. He stared at it for half a minute.

Twelve hours from now, your little secret message is mine, pal, he thought as he nodded slightly.

Finding nothing better to occupy himself with (after checking the location of Ben and Abigail on his laptop several times; they were halfway across the city from him and Carolyn at that moment somewhere), Riley took up a good twenty minutes lying on the bed enjoying what he viewed to be the most boring thing ever: channel surfing.

Carolyn exited the bathroom towel drying her hair. She smiled as she approached Riley in his boredom. He mumbled to himself as he flicked through random channels, his eyelids drooping. She pulled the robe closer as she slid next to him on the bed, propping her head up on an elbow.

“You know what’s fun to do?” Riley asked her.

She humored him. “What?”

“If you flick the channels fast enough and listen to what the people say, you get a really long weird sentence.”

Carolyn smiled a heartfelt smile as she looked at him and fought off a giggle. To think less than a week ago she had literally wanted to kill him. Now, she was beginning to think she wanted nothing but the complete opposite. He was too much to handle but not enough for her.

Slowly, Carolyn eased herself down beside him, her head finding the space between his shoulder and neck. Riley put his arm around her, as she laid close and comfortable, closing her eyes in contentment. He took a deep breath and sighed; this was nice. Finally they were getting along…

Carolyn opened her eyes on the television, Gilligan running through the jungle after the Skipper with the volume on low. “So how’s the copper cleaning coming?” she asked Riley.

“It’ll look more… copper… than a new penny tomorrow morning,” he said slowly at his word choice. Could ‘copper’ be considered an adjective as well as a noun?

“Any idea what it says?”

Riley shook his head. “No clue. Probably something to do with the flag.”

“The first flag,” Carolyn emphasized. “George Washington or something…” Riley looked at her. It was so amazing when he saw wheels turning in her head, but it also scared him; lately the wheels had been against him. But somehow, he figured things were a little different now.

“Must we always bring history into all of our conversations?” he asked with a smirk. Carolyn laughed.

“Well, the whole treasure is based on history, so I don’t see how it’s avoidable.”

“For two minutes, let’s just not talk about the treasure, okay?”

“Okay.” Carolyn moved closer to him, closing her eyes. But she felt Riley’s eyes on her and couldn’t ignore it. When she looked up, he looked very contemplative.

He said, “I hate you,” but the tone sounded very unlike the comment. Carolyn smiled at this.

“I hate you, too,” she said before confirming it with a kiss. Riley responded without hesitation or a second thought this time. He definitely liked this Carolyn. Maybe even more than liked.

As the kiss broke and Carolyn nestled back down, he leaned his head against hers with a soft smile, a realization dawning on him he never imagined he’d think toward Carolyn; the evil spawn of Satan sent to ruin his life.

Or… possibly complete it.

x x x

Ian shut the television off and threw the remote at it. It made a loud clang before hitting the ground as he fumed around the room. His three remaining men stood behind Ben and Abigail nearby, the two of them squirming uncomfortably after seeing the newscast from JFK airport concerning the arrest of two criminals - Noland and Horace.

Ian’s furious mind raced, and everything suddenly fit. He smiled up at Ben and Abigail.

“Now it all makes sense,” he drawled. Ben watched him carefully. “The reason the authorities did not find two dead bodies in the Statue of Liberty is because Riley and Carolyn escaped.”

Abigail looked away, confirming Ian’s suspicions that they had been in communication with one another. He laughed at her smugly.

“And the reason no one found flight tickets or our little copper flag is because they were somehow… intercepted… after our departure from the terminal.” He glared at Abigail. “I wonder who could’ve done that?”

Suddenly, something within Ian snapped, lashing him forwards toward her.

“Give me the phone! Give it to me!”

Alarmed, Abigail did as instructed. After fumbling through her jeans, she retrieved it, Ian snatching it up immediately. He opened it, looking through the phone’s contents. He stopped, and his eyes brightened dangerously.

“Have us on a track record, do you?”

It took all he had not to through the phone on the ground and destroy it. They needed this phone. It was the only way to let Riley and Carolyn believe they were still in secret contact with Ben and Abigail behind his back. The only way Riley could track them on GPS.

Damn him for being such a bloody technical smart-ass, Ian thought acidly.

He looked under Abigail’s GPS tracking devices, finding only Ben and Riley. She could track Riley just as much as he was tracking them.

“Time to turn the tables, boys.”

x x x

Morning, and Riley was not beside her anymore. Carolyn sat up confused for half a moment, figuring he had gone to the bathroom or something of that nature. However, when she turned around, he was over at the sink filled with the vinegar and salt mixture. She got up and approached quietly as he looked for something to take the piece of copper out of the sink.

“Get a towel ready,” he told her as he picked up a comb and the now empty soap dish. Carolyn took the one from the towel rack beside her and laid it down as Riley delved into the foul-smelling bath after the copper, careful not to let his hands touch it. Salt and vinegar would burn like crazy; especially with the cut he had on his finger. No way was he touching that.

He moved the comb and soap dish around slowly, trying to pinch the copper between the two. After a minute of waning patience, excitement surged as he caught it, lifting it out and discarding it onto the towel. Carolyn folded the terry cloth in half over it and pressed to dry it. Riley threw the comb and dish aside, immediately helping her.

“Pat it dry, don’t rub,” he advised, both of them fumbling with the towel. “If you rub it might screw up the message or something.”

Then they found the copper in the towel again, and they stopped, staring at it. It was shiner and more… copper… than a new penny. It was almost unnatural, but it was simply pure copper in the towel. Riley picked it up slowly, his mouth open slightly in awe. Carolyn’s eyes were bright.

The etching of the First American Flag was astonishing. It gleamed perfectly, even in the horrible hotel room lights. The depths of the engraving lines were even visible. Riley let out a low whistle.

“To think Lady Liberty looked like this at one time,” he fathomed.

“Turn it over,” Carolyn coached. He looked over at her, and she gave a reassuring nod. Riley sighed.

“Here we go.”

It shined as they turned it, and the writing was in a magnificent scripted penmanship. Four lines of the ornate lettering graced the backside of the small copper sheet, and Riley and Carolyn leaned closer.

Riley read, “Widow of needle, in philos adelphos stay-‘”

“’The illegible keystone, in this bed of coals lay,’” Carolyn finished.

She leaned back, her mind instantly trying to solve it.

“Wh- What does that mean?” Riley asked.

“Just take it line by line,” Carolyn said, beginning to pace around. “’Widow of needle.’ What could that mean?”

“A woman holding a needle?” Riley supplied. Carolyn sighed in frustration, but he got defensive. “Look, the only thing I can tell you is that ‘philos adelphos’ is reference to Philadelphia.”

Carolyn became pensive, and Riley rolled his eyes. “Didn’t Miss Big Artiste ever take a Greek course?” he asked sarcastically, walking towards her.

“You took a course in the Greek language in college?” she asked skeptically.

“It was spoken a lot throughout history, and a lot of characters from the Greek alphabet happen to cross your path when you mess around with computers as much as I do,” he said. She didn’t move, knowing his answer was legit from her computer experiences. “It’s a coding thing,” he explained shortly.

“What do they mean, Riley?”

“’Philos’ in the English translation mean ‘lovely,’” he told her. “And ‘adelphos’ means ‘brother.’ Put them together – City of Brotherly Love.”

She nodded. Great. One down.

“How about any of this other stuff?” she asked. “Can you think of anything connecting it to the flag?”

“Just that it was sewn in Philadelphia…”

Then, a spark went off inside Carolyn. She touched Riley’s arm. “’Widow of needle…’ That’s Betsy Ross.”

“Wh-?”

“She was a seamstress, sewed the flag in Philadelphia,” Carolyn explained, “and she just happened to be widowed three times.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “What? How do you know she was widowed three times?”

“I did a colonial American art seminar in Boston two years ago,” she said. This information about her artistic history was factual; as opposed to the lie she had told the Gates in order to take up residence in the manor to get the painting. She continued. “We got a few in-depth biographies told to us while we painted, and one of them was about Betsy Ross who was, despite your lack of ability to comprehend it, widowed three times.”

“We’ll I’m so sorry,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve never really had the chance or willingness to sit through the life story of Betsy Ross before.”

“Just stop it,” she said, a headache developing. “I don’t want to argue, I want to figure this out and move on.”

Instead of making a comment, he decided she was right. “Fair enough,” Riley agreed, pulling out his phone. “But we need help with the rest of this. I can figure out codes and bypass security, but I hate solving riddles I have no background on.”

“Who are you calling?”

“Ben.” He paused. “That is, unless you can provide us with some more Betsy knowledge and solve it yourself.”

Carolyn sighed. “Just call him. And-“

The phone in Riley’s palm rang. He and Carolyn looked down as it rang again.

‘Abigail.’

Riley froze inwardly but quickly answered. Carolyn pressed the speaker on as he lifted it to his ear so that she could listen, too. However, the voice that greeted them was not that of Abigail’s.

“Good morning, Riley,” the voice of Ian said quickly. A fear seized both of them, channeling through their spines and bodies. Ian did not wait for a reply and kept talking. “I would like for you and Carolyn to meet me at Ben’s father’s home outside the city tonight for dinner. We will be discussing a few matters that need to be taken care of.”

Carolyn felt sick again. He knew everything. He knew they had the clue, knew that they had called Abigail. She looked at Riley, as he stood paralyzed beside her.

“I want you to bring the clue, and I want you there at six. If you do not come, we will find you, and you be certain that you’ll never speak to your friends again if you choose not to have an appetite.”

Both Riley and Carolyn looked over at each other, suddenly feeling very hungry despite the knots in their stomachs and throats.

“Six o’clock,” Ian said again. “You have a little less than nine hours, so I’d hurry, especially if you don’t know how to get there. I also request that you arrive in style.”

Suddenly, a loud smash was heard, and the line went dead. Riley held the phone away. Carolyn was almost breathless.

“What was that?”

“He slammed the phone on the ground and smashed it,” Riley said. “Probably so we can’t communicate or track them anymore.” Carolyn fled from his side toward her things as he rubbed his eyes. “Geez… and I totally forget how to get to Ben’s dad’s house…”

“We’ve still got Ian’s phone to track,” Carolyn reminded him, pulling out the PDA. He walked over as the screen came up.

“Where is he?”

“Halfway across the city.”

“Zoom out and look for Penrose Drive in the north suburbs,” Riley said, heading back to the sink to drain it. “I remember that street sign near his house.”

She did. As the drain sucked down the stagnant salt and vinegar bath and Riley patted the copper dry a little more, Carolyn went over to him.

“It’s not far,” she said, pointing. “Maybe an hour, hour and a half drive.”

“Who’s closer?”

“We are. Ian’s got maybe twenty more minutes behind us.”

Riley heaves a sigh, nodding. “Okay, so… we need to get there before them, but first,” – he gave a slight grimace – “we have shopping to do.”

x x x

It was noon before Riley and Carolyn left the hotel. In town, they spent the day surviving off of one of Riley’s many debit cards, eating lunch, renting a car, and finding outfits for their dinner with Ian. Riley picked something out at the first store the stopped at, but Carolyn was another story and a big bill. They had driven all over town all day, and she hadn’t found anything yet.

He looked at his watch as he stood lifelessly against the dressing room wall, waiting for her to throw another rejected dress at him. His stomach still felt unstable from the whole situation with Ian, and now he was standing in a dressing room as a clothes rack for a girl.

It was bound to happen someday, he thought with some disappointment in himself. His head lolled on the wall more.

“Come on, Carolyn,” he moaned. “It’s 4:00. We’ve got to get going.”

“Wait, I think I like this one,” she said from behind the door. Riley lifted his head at the words, and she came out in a short black cocktail dress. The neckline went from shoulder to shoulder and was hemmed at her knee. Riley smiled; it was perfect.

“Does it look too gappy?” she asked, flattening the sides.

“It’s the best one you’ve picked all day,” he said honestly.

“Really? Cause-“

“No. We have to go if we want to beat Ian there,” Riley said. “Hand me the tag, I’ll go check out, you take this,” – he gave her the giant red duffel bag with all of their discarded street clothes and Riley’s computer in it – “brush your hair, whatever… just be out in the car in five minutes.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

He shrugged, and she kissed him quickly on the lips, ducking back into the dressing room with a grin. She was beginning to like this a lot. She was beginning to like him a lot. Carolyn looked back out as Riley blinked a few times and turned to leave, but he didn’t.

Instead, he appeared back in the dressing room. Carolyn laughed riotously as Riley backed her against a wall with his arms around her, a wonderful smile on his face. He touched his forehead to hers as the laughter subsided. A seriousness crept into his gaze upon her.

“I don’t get it.”

She giggled. “Me either.”

This time, Riley kissed her. He pulled her closer than he did in the phone booth two mornings prior, not understanding or caring why he was so attracted to her. He just knew it was a very confusing but insightful two days. Carolyn’s mind swam, intoxicated with amused disbelief. She smiled through the kiss, and Riley pulled back chuckling.

“I’m gonna go pay for the dress now,” he said at length. The seriousness made another cameo as he let go of her reluctantly. “Car. Five minutes.”

Carolyn nodded, kissing him briefly again before he left with a glint in his eye between mischief and satisfactory. She laughed, loving the happy woman in the mirror before her. But it vanished suddenly, a plague of questions attacking as she changed shoes and brushed her hair.

Why did Ian have to be her brother? Why did she have to get attached to Riley? What about when he found out? Why couldn’t she have just inserted the moment they had just shared in an alternate reality where things weren’t so complicated and someone in the end wasn’t going to end up hurt?

The woman in the mirror frowned, almost tearing up. She slung the bag over her shoulder, very off balance, but making it to the car. She got in waiting for Riley; she was ready to just blurt out her secret. But when he got in, put the keys in the ignition, and started the car, her heart only pounded anxiously.

x x x

“You were right,” she said as they stopped in front of the house. “It was Penrose Drive.”

“Of course I’m right,” Riley replied, leaning over the steering wheel to look at the house. “It’s pretty good considering I was recovering from a wild gun fight, car chase, and having the Declaration sitting the back of the van in an indestructible tube.”

He pulled into the driveway, and they approached the door. Riley knocked.

“Are you sure Ian’s not here yet?” Carolyn asked, looking around cautiously.

“You just checked the GPS five minutes before we got here. He’s still on the highway,” Riley said.

“I know, I just-“

The door opened, and Riley and Carolyn saw no one there. Then, looking down, they saw Sally’s face transform as if she had just met Santa Claus in person while he put presents under the tree. Riley bent down in relief as she threw herself at him.

“Uncle Riley! I missed you so much!” she squealed.

He sighed. “Oh, I missed you, too,” he said, happy to see her unharmed. He lifted her up and heard barking, walking into the house more with Carolyn following after she shut the door. “So where’s your partner, Bonnie?” Riley asked, looking around.

Immediately, Charlie flew around the corner in pajamas, a cowboy hat on his head and a gun belt around his waist. He sat atop a large golden retriever, his eyes lighting up, too.

“Hee yaw!!” The boy raced forward on the dog screaming Riley’s name. Riley braced himself for impact, but he was unable to stay up as Charlie and the dog barreled into his lower half and knocked him over. Carolyn giggled at them as Patrick came around the corner unnoticed.

“Sorry, Uncle Riley,” Charlie laughed. Riley just patted the dog on the head.

“Take it easy, next time, Champ.”

“You know, I named the dog Quincy,” Patrick said from the corner as everyone looked up. “His name is still Quincy.” Riley knew Ben’s dad didn’t care for him all that much, but he knew that Patrick was relieved and upset that he and Carolyn came at Ian’s demand.

“Grandpa! Uncle Riley’s here!”

“And look!” Sally shouted from the pile on the floor. “Carolyn came, too!”

“I see.”

After getting the pile on the floor sorted out and Riley was standing again with Sally, he lowered his voice a little. “Patrick, you need to get them out of here,” Riley said flatly, referring to the children.

“We can’t leave,” Patrick said lowly. “Ian explained that thoroughly. Now I myself am not going to put my grandchildren in harm’s way.”

“Keep them upstairs,” Riley said.

“But I don’t wanna go upstairs!” Sally said, still in Riley’s arms. “My fort’s in the living room!”

Riley looked at Patrick who simply nodded.

Figures.

“Well, we’ll build you another one up in the spare bedroom,” Riley reasoned. “You can have a fort upstairs.”

“Will you be an Indian with me?”

“I can’t now, Sal. I’ve got a grown-up dinner to eat.” He was definitely not looking forward to this. The kids in the house with Ian were not good at all.

“Then he’ll be a cowboy, right, Uncle Riley?” Charlie asked, tugging on his pants.

“No fair!” Sally whined. “You’ve already got a horse!”

“We’ve got to eat dinner,” Carolyn explained, stooping down to talk to Charlie. “We’re really hungry.”

“I’m hungry,” Charlie said.

“You just ate pizza, popcorn, and three juice boxes,” Patrick interjected.

“It’s nothing you’d want to eat, Charlie,” she said, cleverly talking him out of it. “Unless you’ve recently taken a liking to spinach, brussel sprouts, sour kraut, and liver.”

Charlie stuck out his tongue and made a face. Carolyn smiled.

“Exactly.”

Charlie turned to his grandfather, nothing on Carolyn’s menu appealing to him. “Grandpa, if we go upstairs, can we take Champ with us?”

“No.”

Sally pouted. “But Grandpa…”

“You can take Quincy upstairs,” he corrected her. “Go on.” Riley let Sally down as she and Charlie headed upstairs mumbling with Patrick’s dog between them.

“We won’t call you Quincy,” Charlie whispered to the dog as if it were a punishment. “You’re always gonna be Champ.”

Riley’s eyes followed them, longing to play with them amidst all of the drama and turmoil he felt weighing him down. He made a note to have a long play day with them as soon as all of this was over. They were young. They didn’t deserve to be dragged into all of this.

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