Chapter 12

Ace Carroway nibbled on a saltine in the music room, mulling over a chord progression in the cello concerto she had half-written. A deep rumble broke her concentration. She pinched open Mrs. Kapperl's blinds to watch the black truck whiz by. Her nibbles ceased for a moment as she watched the truck squeal onto main street, heading east. She pursed her lips and returned to her composing.

Barely had she focused on the musical notation when the rattle of a smaller engine drew her back to the window. In the bright moonlight, a yellow car followed the truck's path, also turning east at the main street corner.

Poundcake emitted a low yowl from his pianoside throne and luxuriously stretched his claws. Ace shifted her regard from the mysterious roadways to the orange cat. "You know, if you don't get your nap in, you won't have energy for your main snooze." Poundcake relaxed his claws and twisted his head upside down. Ace sent him a vexed look, but it seemed to make no impression upon the feline.

Without warning, the front door vibrated under pounding fists. Untwisting in a flash, Poundcake leaped to his feet. His back arched, his fur inflated, and he hissed.

Ace held a hand to her racing heart. "Well, boo to you, too!"

She padded over to the door and opened it. The Fernwood twins spilled in. Eyes wide, their pulses pounded visibly in their necks. Their breathless babbles spilled over each other. "Taken her!" "They went east!" "Knocked her on the head." "It's all about B-anthracite."

The tousle-headed pilot caught enough of the gist to act. She grabbed a leather coat from a peg with one hand and pointed toward the street with the other. "To the roadster."

The twins needed no urging. They raced to Miss Carroway's car with Ace herself almost trodding upon their heels. By the time the doors slammed shut, Ace had pressed the electric starter button and the deep engine answered with a rumbly purr. Ace throttled it wide open and popped the clutch. The car leapt forward and the smoking wheel rubber shrieked in protest.

The acceleration pressed Vivian back in her seat. She gasped, then tittered in delight.

"Yeah!" Gilbert cried.

Ace herself seemed cucumber cool. "Now, one at a time. Who's been taken?"

"Mom. In the black truck," Vivian said.

"Who's in the yellow car?"

"Clem Seville. Or maybe his name's really Charlie. Or maybe Charlie's a code name." Gilbert said.

The roadster squealed around the main street corner and headed east. "Who's in the black truck?"

"The man in black and the woman in black," Vivian said. "His code name is Adam."

Ace accelerated the car and kept accelerating on the moonlit road. "And they're stealing Norman Fernwood's papers and a truckload of B-anthracite?"

Gilbert said, "Yes, ma'am."

Vivian said, "The seals."

Ace said, "I didn't catch that, Vivian."

Vivian cried in a sudden panic, "The seals! The truck is airtight. Gilbert, B-anthracite leaks hydrogen. Pretty soon, it'll fill the back of the truck. Mom won't have oxygen to breathe. She'll die!"