The Temperature of Me and You, page 30
Savanna stays behind with Perry to watch Kirsten’s press conference. If the plan goes right, it will grab the attention of all Falcon Crest and HydroPro and keep them out of my hair as we infiltrate the building.
We are winning by ten points, so I think there will be more games, meaning everyone will be in a good mood tonight. Maybe at the next game Savanna can bring her girlfriend. Then at the game after that Jordan will return and we’ll be together again, and we’ll all be friends at the State Championship, and we win life. Boom. Positive vibes only heading into tonight.
Three news vans are outside. Someone has placed a small podium nearby with six microphones on it. Camera crews set up their tripods while two news anchors tap their heels against the concrete. I cover my face as I dart past them.
When I get home, I run straight to the basement. I scroll through Twitter, reading tweets about the upcoming press conference, until I hear my parents go to bed. I tiptoe up the stairs and into Dad’s office. His HydroPro ID badge sits on his closed laptop, its lanyard wrapped tightly around it. I shove it in my pocket. I collapse into his leather chair and spin in circles as I wait for Perry’s call.
Five minutes pass. Then ten…then fifteen. There are no updates on Twitter. I bring my fingers to my mouth and chomp on my nails. Then Perry’s face appears on my phone screen. I spit a fingernail from my tongue and answer her FaceTime.
“There you are,” I say. “I was getting nervous the press conference was canceled.”
“Oh no,” Perry says. “It’s more than on. I’m going to flip you.”
She flips her screen from her face to the parking lot in front of the school. It looks as if the entire audience from the game moved from the bleachers to the area in front of the podium.
“Where are you guys?”
“We’re at Kirsten’s car. I tried to park as close as I could. Can you see? Oh, wait. Here she comes!”
Kirsten steps up to the podium. Her head pops into the air about two feet higher than the sea of onlookers. Her hair is no longer tied in its cheerleading ponytail. She delicately brushes it behind her shoulders, then grips the sides of the podium. She flashes the crowd a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh my god, she’s loving this,” Perry says.
I laugh.
The news lights are so bright I can barely make out her expression. The faces of the people in the crowd are black silhouettes. She clears her throat.
“Hello,” she says in her announcer voice. It’s slightly shaky. This is probably her biggest career moment. She clears her throat again. Cameras click around her. “I would like to thank you all for coming here and taking the time to listen to me. Especially after such a great win by our boys. Go, Explorers!” She pauses. A few scattered claps come from the crowd. “I will be short and will be taking questions after I finish my statement.” She runs her fingers over her right ear.
“Is she going to get on with it?” I ask.
“Shhh,” Perry says.
“My name is Kirsten Lush. I am currently participating in Six ABC’s investigative journalism competition that started last month. And while our final articles aren’t due for another month, I feel the evidence I have collected on the recent scourge of fires is too strong to keep to myself and continue to leave Falcon Crest, my home, in danger. As most of you are aware, a series of fires has destroyed many of the beautiful new homes being constructed throughout our town. The police have categorized this as an arson case, and I am here to tell you that they are correct.”
“Wow, she’s killing this,” Perry says.
“I have identified a group of suspects from video surveillance, witness testimony, and trace evidence. If you focus your attention on exhibit A.” She extends her arm to the side. Someone props up a white screen beside her. She plays the crowd the video of the silver cars at each of the scenes, displays quotes from witnesses putting them outside each fire, and shares photos of them at the scenes.
“These cars, and our suspects, belong to one of our newest neighbors. And it turns out, they’re not so friendly. HydroPro.” She switches the photo to one of the silver cars outside HydroPro’s facility.
The crowd erupts in gasps. The reporters push themselves closer to Kirsten. The clicking cameras intensify. Flashes blast across the screen, and I’m seeing blue and yellow dots. I shake my head.
“This is the new headquarters they completed constructing this winter, just as the fires began ravaging our hometown. This corporation interrupted our businesses, public safety, and peace of mind for no other reason than its own self-interest. With this new information, we expect law enforcement to investigate the full extent of HydroPro’s presence at the sites of these arsons and determine this company’s true intentions. Without purposeful action, I am afraid we may never return to the Falcon Crest we once knew. I’ll take your questions now,” Kirsten says. She smiles and bounces her shoulders.
The crowd starts yelling.
“Kirsten!”
“Any evidence on the motive?”
“Why would they do such a thing?”
“Where are the videos from?”
“Kirsten!”
“Can you name suspects?”
Perry flips the camera back to her face.
“Okay!” I say. “Let’s go.”
Perry hangs up without saying a word.
I slip out of my house through the basement door. I stand at the stop sign at the end of my street for fifteen minutes before they arrive.
The go-kart pulls up to the corner. Perry rolls down the window. She’s wearing sunglasses. The white turtleneck underneath her cheer uniform is pulled up over her chin.
“Get in,” she says with a smoky voice, nodding. “It’s go time.”
I laugh as I get into the back seat.
“We were the only car leaving the lot,” Savanna says.
“Perfect.” I look Perry up and down. “Did you bring a change of clothes, by chance?” I ask. She’s still in her maroon-and-gold cheerleading outfit with a shimmering white ribbon tied on her head. She might as well be wearing one of those highlighter vests bikers wear at night. She’s asking to be seen.
“Oh no. I left my robbery outfit at home when I was leaving for the game,” Perry says.
I roll my eyes and hold up my hands. “I get it,” I say.
In a couple of minutes, we arrive at HydroPro’s complex. There’s a large white sign with the company logo at the entrance. It’s illuminated by a series of in-ground lights. We turn down the entrance road, and Perry pauses the music on her phone. There are no streetlights, and the glow from the main road dissipates as we get closer to the building. A heavy border of trees surrounds the complex.
The entrance road goes on for what feels like a mile. The ride is also lengthened by the fact that Perry is driving at two miles per hour as if a herd of deer is going to jump into the road at any second.
The building finally appears in the distance. I look to the right and to the left and can’t see where it ends on either side of the horizon. Parts of the structure are all glass.
A hundred yards before the building is a guardhouse. A gate is attached to it and lowered in front of us, blocking the road.
“Uhh, did anyone plan for the fact that maybe we can’t go through the main entrance?” Perry asks.
“I was just following Dylan’s directions,” Savanna says.
“My apologies. I’ve never infiltrated a high-tech energy company before. I didn’t know there would be security checkpoints,” I say.
“Maybe we should turn around,” Savanna says.
“Wait!” I yell. The gate on the left side of the guardhouse rises. A line of silver cars zoom through the opening and exit the campus, heading in the opposite direction of us. “Get low,” I say. Perry puts the car in park, and we sink down into our seats. I peek outside through the bottom of the window. I watch five silver cars drive past us. I quickly pull my phone from my pocket and open Twitter. I check the news, and they’re tweeting about Kirsten’s press conference. It’s started. HydroPro is on the run. It’s our time to move.
“Um, Dylan. We’re being summoned,” Perry says.
“What?” I sit up in my seat. Through the front windshield, the security guard waves us forward.
“Do I go or high-speed reverse out of here?” Perry asks. Her hand clutches the gear shift.
“Um…” I swallow and look around the road.
“You have one more second before I make an executive decision.”
I take a deep breath. “Go forward. I can make it work. I’ll make something up about my dad.” I can also torch the guardhouse as a distraction if things get too bad. I keep forgetting I have other skills now besides being silent and awkward.
We slowly approach the guard.
“Oh my gosh, I know him,” Perry says.
“You do?” I ask.
“It’s Kara Bynum’s dad…from cheer. Play it cool. Play it cool.”
He stands in the middle of the road with his hands on his hips until we’re a few feet away. The headlights shine on his black uniform. He circles the car and taps on Perry’s window. She lowers it. Her face is tense.
The guard leans closer to the car.
“Mr. Bynum?” Perry asks. Her voice rises five octaves. She flashes a huge smile. Her red lipstick from cheer makes her teeth look abnormally white tonight.
“Perry?” he asks.
“Hi, Mr. Bynum,” Perry says, inching closer to the window. She waves. He chuckles.
“What’s happening?” I ask aloud.
“I didn’t know you worked at…” Perry starts, but then taps her chin, searching for the word.
“HydroPro,” Savanna whispers.
“…HydroPro?”
He smiles and shrugs. “I mean, why would you?”
“You’re right. Why would I?” Perry lets out a fake laugh. She scratches her head.
“Are you girls already done cheering at the game? Kara must be done, then, too.”
“Yup!” Perry says. “We just finished up. The boys won. It was a great game.” She nods her head.
“Oh, that’s good to hear. Did you do the Nationals routine at halftime? You know, I still have that music mix stuck in my head.”
He raises his arms and sings. He throws in a few beats here and there. His hips move side to side, and he dances in front of the guardhouse. Perry and Savanna bop their heads along. I stare blankly.
Mr. Bynum stops dancing and laughs. “I miss being in Florida with you girls. That was a great trip.”
“It was, minus the fact we didn’t win,” Perry says, shrugging.
“Oh, no need for that attitude.” He waves his hand. “We’ll get ’em next year.” He sniffs. “Wait a second.” He puts his hands against the car. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with the team after the big win?”
“Um…” Perry mumbles something to herself. She pulls her lips in and looks at me. I pop my head out from the back of the car in between the two front seats.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m Dylan Highmark. I don’t think we’ve met before. I don’t really know Kara, so that’s why you probably don’t know me. But I know of her because we go to the same school. I have talked to her a few times here and there, though. I saw her tonight at the game, but I didn’t talk to her because she was on the court cheering. Obviously. Perry knows her through cheerleading. I’m best friends with Perry, so I know of Kara through her also.”
Perry and Savanna stare at me without blinking.
“Okay,” Mr. Bynum says slowly. “That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”
“Right…right.” I lick my lips. “My dad actually works here too. Cameron Highmark? I don’t know if you’ve heard of him.”
He nods, then steps into the guardhouse. He types something on the computer.
Perry turns to me. “Did you forget how to form a sentence?” Her words are sharp.
“Oh, shut up. I’m doing my best here.” I shoot her a look. “I’m stopping by to give him something,” I yell out the window.
Savanna cringes.
“He works in the finance department?” Mr. Bynum asks.
“Yeah. He just got hired too, so that’s why he’s working a little late.”
“Okay. I see him in the system.” Mr. Bynum prints a small white slip and throws it on Perry’s dashboard. He points down the road. “That big brick side of the building to the right is all manufacturing, so don’t go there. You want to make a left at the next turn. Administrative offices like finance and research are to the left.”
“Research?” I blurt.
He nods. “Yes, but you want finance. First floor on the left wing.”
“Okay, thank you! Bye!” Perry says. She quickly puts up the window and hits the gas. “I think I’m going to pass out.” She exhales.
I collapse and slam my body against the back seat. I rub my neck. “That was not as smooth as I pictured it,” I say.
“You think?” Perry asks. “You’re lucky I decided to come. My hands are so clammy.” She slides her hands up and down the steering wheel. I look through the rear window and watch the gate lower behind us.
“Cross perimeter…check!” Perry says, holding her finger in the air. “What’s step two?”
“Turn left,” I say.
Fortunately, the left side of the building is all glass and we can see through the exterior walls. The lobby is empty, and no one is sitting at the front desk. I pull my dad’s ID card from my pocket and put it against a black box next to the door. A green light flashes. The door clicks. We enter.
“There’s a directory,” Savanna says, pointing at a sign between elevators. We jog to it. I read the map and room labels. Human Resources, Finance, Quality Improvement, blah, blah, blah. All are on the first floor like Mr. Bynum said. The map of the second floor reveals five different research sections. Section E says Special Projects, just like the paper Dr. Ivan gave me. I put my finger on it.
“That one,” I say. “This is where we’re going.”
We reach Section E. The double doors reveal a long hallway with several offices on either side. Pendant lights hang from the ceiling, shining circles onto the white floor. It’s quiet.
“I guess we start at door number one,” Perry says, shrugging. I nod. She walks over to the first door. My body tenses up. She grabs the doorknob. Hopefully, door number one reveals the grand prize, the cure for Jordan and me sitting in a lit glass box, and this doesn’t turn into a sad daytime game show, where the doors reveal random objects like lawn mowers and lamps.
“Behind door number one is…” She closes her eyes and swings it open. A gush of air poofs my hair to the side. We peer inside. The room is dark.
I slowly walk through the doorway. A large wooden table is in the middle with maybe twenty chairs around it. It’s a conference room. Perry reaches for the light. “Don’t,” I say, extending my hand. “Leave it off. The wall is all glass. Someone will see us.”
“Over here,” Savanna says. She walks toward an open door at the far end of the room. On the other side is another space with four gray cubicles. A cubicle is constructed in each corner. A long, skinny table runs down the middle of the room. Rolled-up papers and drawings of various machines are strewn across its surface. Every cubicle is in disarray. Multiple coffee cups sit at each desk. Files and folders are stacked in towers on the chairs. Open notebooks sit with pens lying on the page as if someone stopped writing mid-sentence. According to a name tag, the first cubicle belongs to Dr. Peter Roland.
“Everyone pick a cube and see what we can find,” I instruct. Perry and Savanna nod. Perry walks into Dr. Roland’s cube and opens a drawer. Savanna enters the next-closest cube. It belongs to someone named Dr. Micha Stalling. I head for the one in the far-left corner. I freeze when I see the name tag. It says Dr. Maria Ivan. I gasp. A heavy feeling grows in my stomach.
“Guys!” I shout.
“Shhh!” Perry hushes.
“Sorry,” I say, lowering my voice. “But this is the person I’ve been seeing.” I point to the name tag. “And who Jordan saw. She said she’s on our side and not with HydroPro anymore.”
Perry leaves her cube and walks to me. “Maybe she did leave the company and they haven’t changed her desk yet?” she suggests.
“No, that wouldn’t make sense,” I say. “She said she left a while ago.” I slap my hand over my forehead. “Oh my gosh. This can’t be happening.”
Perry inspects the space. “Is that her?” She points to a picture of Dr. Ivan and a little girl.
“Yes,” I say, swallowing. I grab a paper on her desk. It has last week’s date on the top. Dr. Ivan’s signature is etched on the bottom. I show Perry.
“Okay, maybe she’s lying to you?” she questions again. Savanna watches us from her cube. Her brow is furrowed.
“Everyone search faster,” I say. “I don’t like the feeling of this.”
I sort through every paper on her desk. I search for the words Jordan, Ator, antidote, flames, fire, 110 degrees, and anything else related to Jordan’s case that crosses my mind. The sound of metal drawers opening and closing fills the room. I flop into Dr. Ivan’s chair and attempt to log on to her computer. My fake passwords are rejected three times in a row. I read through a stack of sticky notes. But the notes are written in sloppy cursive, and I can’t make out most of what they’re saying.
“Hold up,” Perry shouts. I jump from my seat. My breath quickens. She raises a paper into the air and shakes it. Savanna and I jog over.
“Look,” Perry says. She points at the top of the paper. “It says Experiment 1066-11C. Then below it, it says Section E, Laboratory Three. We’re in Section E.”
“Okay?” Savanna asks. “What is experiment 1066-11C?”
“I don’t know,” Perry says. “But look at this column.”
The paper lists numbers and calculations in multiple columns. I don’t know what they mean. But in the fourth column, the word Ator appears seven times.
“Jordan’s last name,” I say. My eyes go wide. “Thank you, Peter Roland. Where’s laboratory three?”
