Read Online Down to the Wire by Shannon Greenland - Free Book Online Page B

backup in case something went wrong. The glasses were a nifty little electronic device he had created.
    “Are you here with family?” Katarina drank a bit of her hot tea.
    “No. Vacation with friends.” Wirenut put the glasses on the table and pointed them directly at the museum.
    There were two cameras. One filmed the building’s exterior, and one, according to Chapling, X-rayed through the stone walls to tape what went on inside.
    Katarina pushed back from her table and stood, grabbing her bowl of fruit. She put some bills down and crossed the short distance between us.
    Wirenut’s jaw twitched as he watched her come toward us. I could only imagine what thoughts spiraled through his head. Don’t go, hot chick. Don’t go.
    She extended her hand. “Nice to meet both of you. I wish I had more time to visit.”
    He shook her hand, looking so bummed I wanted to hug him. “Nice to meet you, too.”
    Her light brown eyes twinkled. Exotic eyes, kinda catlike. Butit was the friendliness of them, the intelligence behind them that caught my attention more than anything, like they invited true, soul-bonding conversation.
    She shook my hand. “I’m here every morning for breakfast, if you want to join me sometime. I’d be happy to show you around.”
    Wirenut’s bumminess immediately lifted. “Sounds good.”
    With another smile, she caught the waitress’s eye and held up the bowl. The waitress nodded.
    “I’m a regular. They let me take stuff because they know I’ll bring it back. Until later.” Katarina turned and strolled off down the cobblestone walkway.
    Wirenut watched her until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
    TL passed her coming toward us. He wound around a table, stopping at ours. “Let’s go.”
    Wirenut and I looked at each other. Something wasn’t right.
    TL put some bills on the table, and we strode off down the cobblestone walkway.
    When we got far enough away, TL stopped walking. “Chapling decoded the name of the person who stole the quid pluolium.”
    Wirenut nodded. “Who is it?”
    TL’s jaw hardened. “Octavias Zorba. The same man who hired us to find it.”
    “Oh, my God.”
    TL turned to Wirenut. “Chapling also uncovered Zorba’s real name. It’s Antonio Badaduchi. Your uncle.”

[5]
    Wirenut clenched his jaw. “That’s impossible. My uncle’s on death row.”
    TL glanced down the sunlit cobblestone walkway back to the outdoor café, where more people had gathered. “Come on.” He led us down a narrow alley bordered by the back side of a row of stone buildings. From his pants pocket, he pulled out a key chain with a small blue pyramid on it.
    Wirenut glanced at it and then did a double take. “That’s my white-noise audio-feedback blocker.”
    I blinked. “Your what?”
    TL turned the pyramid’s top counterclockwise. “Although no one can detect it, the pyramid emits a static pulse that blocks others from hearing our conversation. Instead of hearing us, they hear white noise.”
    “You made this?” I leaned in, curious as all get-out.
    Wirenut nodded. “Two years ago. I was bored and decided to see if I could do it.” He shrugged. “I succeeded.”
    TL stopped halfway down the alley. He turned and looked at Wirenut.
    Seconds ticked by, and, with each one, my heart clangedharder. When TL stared at you like that, it always preceded life-altering words.
    “Your uncle,” TL finally spoke, “was never on death row.”
    It took a pause for Wirenut to comprehend TL’s words. “B-but I put him there. I testified against him.”
    “He was sentenced to death row. But he never made it.”
    “What do you mean he never made it? He’s been on death row for twelve years.”
    “En route to prison, he was taken by his own men.”
    “Men? What men? My uncle didn’t have men. He managed an antiques store and collected junk.”
    “That was his cover. He’s had his fingers in a lot of illegal stuff.”
    “That’s impossible. I would’ve known. I was only