The Secret Songs of D.C. Silverenn

| 29

Craggy rock shoots up to the sky at Dead Face Cave, forming a wall within the mountain. Orange, afternoon sunlight shines against it. My eyes trace over the jutting gray boulders as Emi parks outside the cave. She turns the engine off and faces me, reaching for her phone.

My fingers tighten around my own cell phone. "Ready?"

Once you start, there's no return.

Isn't that what Silverenn said at the beginning? Once I started to decipher the clues, I already set my fate in motion. I just hope treasure lies at the end of the tunnel, not an abyss. Either our plan will catch the mafia members, or we'll end up dead in the process.

"Ready." Emi nods, setting her jaw with determination.

I text the number that sent me that threatening message a few days ago.

We're ready to trade. Meet us at Dead Face Cave in an hour.

My thumb hovers over the send button. In a flash of a decision, I tap the purple blue icon.

Sent.

"Think we'll be able to get the police up here in time?" Emi asks. She chews her lip while staring down at the black screen in her palm.

"Hope so." Timing is tricky, since we need the police to come after the mafia arrive. That way, we can catch them in whatever nefarious crime they're going to commit.

Which might include shooting us. Anxiety courses through me, and I'm starting to regret this "plan." But it's too late to go back now.

"Are things set up with Martin?" I ask.

Emi opens her phone, then nods. "Yeah. He said he'll call the police and give them our coordinates fifty minutes from now, telling them we need help."

"Good." That should give enough time for the police to get here, and hopefully, catch the mafia inside the cave doing something illegal, not at the cave's entrance. It's risky to rely on Martin to remember to do that, but Emi and I didn't know who else to call that wouldn't ask questions about why they're calling the police.

"I sent him a reminder message just in case," Emi says, pocketing her phone.

Emi and I hop out of the car, and the shutting doors echo off the surrounding rock. My eyes scan the rising cliffs as if they can follow the reverberations.

My eyes turn to the small rocks littering the ground, and I crouch down, propping up a phone against two of them. I bought it about two hours ago, paid for it and a data plan with my negative-balance credit card. Somehow, we're not far enough from civilization for the internet to not work, and I'm able to open Zoom on the new phone, turning the camera on so it shows the cave's entrance. Once my own phone connects to the session, I can watch to see when the mafia arrives. I step back and am pleased to see that the phone on the ground is barely visible among the rocks.

"There." I brush off my jeans, still holding my phone. Emi regards the phone among the rocks warily.

"What if we lose reception inside the cave?" she asks.

"Well, let's see." I step inside the cave. The reception bars on my phone drop to two, but they don't disappear — at least not yet. I wave Emi to follow me. "Come. The clock is ticking down."

My eyes snag on the empty parking lot outside the cave. I tell myself that the lack of people is a good thing. It means no one will get in our way while we hunt for the treasure. But apprehension still nags at me. There's no one around in case something goes wrong.