Read Online The Butterfly Code by Sue Wyshynski - Free Book Online Page A

him on weekends. It’s unlikely I’ll ever learn the answer. Who could I ask? Mom is gone. She’s been gone since I was five.
    The digital clock next to the phone blazes at me. It’s getting late. My right leg is curled under me and has gone numb. I stretch it out, and it starts to prickle.
    I close the cover and replace the notebook and the album in Dad’s desk drawer. Then my eyes fall on a stack of papers next to the phone. The words Phoenix Research Lab stare up at me from a printout. I grab the sheet, wide-eyed. It’s a purchase order. An order in Hunter’s name.
    And the delivery date is marked for today.
    My heart rate increases. I scan the contents. Dad would want this delivery made. I’ll be doing him a favor. I should definitely fill his order and take it up there. Hunter will be expecting his goods to arrive.
    Only instead of Dad making the delivery, it will be me.
    Besides, I can return Hunter’s jacket while I’m at it.
    The memory of those piercing amber eyes searching mine is enough to send thrills of energy through me. I need to calm down. So I’m a little charmed. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not like I’m planning to let anything come of it.
    Maybe I’ll get a chance to clear up some of these mysterious questions. I don’t want to find out anything bad, but surely Hunter wouldn’t be doing something wrong. Would he?
    I ignore the small voice screaming No way, Dad will be furious if I go , and take a closer look at the list of items. Nothing out of the ordinary, except there’s a lot of it. If I’m going to do this, I need to get moving.
    I run for the store’s cash register. Maybe the PRL access card key isn’t there anymore. Maybe Dad took it.
    Praying, I shove my fingers into the secret spot.
    I breathe in relief. Got it.
    The clock is ticking. Mr. Creedy is due anytime.

    I sprint for the house , grab Hunter’s jacket, and return to the shop. There’s a roll-up door for deliveries at the back. Dad’s cube truck is parked next to it. Ears trained for sounds of Creedy’s car, I start to panic. I don’t want to have to explain myself. It takes forever to track down the right bags of straw and oats and lug them outside. What Hunter wants with them is beyond me. I had no idea they were keeping animals.
    My heart is slamming.
    Wheels on gravel send it into overdrive. Time is up.
    "Hi, Mr. Creedy," I call as he gets out of his car and stares at me in surprise. "I’m going to deliver this order." I wave the slip.
    His feathered white brows shoot up, and he says, "Well, now, hold on there, Aeris—"
    Before he can complete the thought, I climb in the cab, slam the heavy door, and lurch out onto the street.
    I’ll just have to apologize for taking off when I get back.
    The giant square side mirror reflects Mr. Creedy’s creased face. His mouth is open, his kind, rheumy eyes are frowning. I can’t wave or smile or anything. I’m too busy focusing on driving this thing.
    Sure, I’ve driven it before.
    That doesn’t mean I’m good at it.
    In my hand, the shifter knob shakes, sending vibrations up my arm. I head down the road, away from town. I’m going to hear it later. I must seriously be crazy.
    As I drive, I flash to the phone call I received earlier and the package I’m supposed to sign for. I’d better hurry.
    The road twists, winding down into a thick stand of trees. On the far side, it snakes up again, opening onto a plateau. Choppy ocean surges beneath the cliffs. Storm clouds mount like grimy giants roaming across the sky. Mottled shadows paint the forested hills emerald green, the cliffs stony gray, the ocean quicksilver.
    I spy the long finger of land jutting out into the Atlantic. Another five minutes and I’ll be there, using Dad’s pass to let myself in. A twinge of nervousness makes my foot ease off the gas. With a choking rattle, the engine threatens to stall. I gun it in panic, not wanting to be stranded out here. Dad’s cube truck lunges forward, and