Chapter Twenty
Oh my gosh! I thought but didn't scream—partly because all the air had been jerked out of my lungs, and partly because Bex had one hand clamped over my mouth. Liz was looking at me through the pale light that floated into the hayloft from the party below, the noise muffled by bales of last year's straw.
"Cammie," Liz said patiently, as if trying to wake me from a deep sleep. "We had to get you out of there. Your mom and Solomon—they're here!"
That's when I looked around the hayloft and saw the series of pulleys the girls had constructed—the wires that were tied to Bex and to me—and I suddenly understood why I felt like a fish Grandpa Morgan had just jerked out of the water.
Even Macey was there, lying on her stomach, peering over the edge of the loft. "We're good." She rolled onto her side to face us. "The shadows are so thick back there; I don't think anyone saw."
"Oh my gosh," I finally said.
For someone who was technically involved in her first act of espionage, Macey was acting pretty calm about it— like maybe Tina's theory that she had once blackmailed the editor of Vogue into bringing back gaucho pants was actually true.
Liz, on the other hand, was freaking out. "Cammie, did you hear me?" she nearly shouted. "Your mom and Solomon are here! They're here! They could have seen you! Do you know what would happen if they saw you?"
"I know," I said as I sank to the floor of the loft. I breathed in the sweet smell of the hay and waited for my heart to stop pounding. Then I realized something. "They didn't see me," I said.
"But how can you be sure?"
This time, Bex answered. "Because she isn't dead yet."
The hayloft was dark and at least thirty feet above the heart of the party, so Bex and Liz sank to the floor and together we crawled toward Macey and the edge. Dim lights twinkled below us, and the band played a slow song. I watched my mom dance with Mr. Solomon. She rested her head on his shoulder, and suddenly, having them skin me alive seemed like a totally better option than watching that.
"Wow," Macey muttered. "Killer couple." But I don't know if she meant it literally.
"Oh, Cammie," Liz said, "I'm sure they're just here as friends. Right, Bex?"
Bex was speechless.
Oh my gosh!
"I mean, I'm sure they're just—" Liz tried to make things better, but it was Macey who said, "Don't worry, they aren't dating or in love or anything."
She sounded so decisive—so sure. I looked at her, wondering How can she possibly know such a thing! Then I remembered—she was Macey McHenry! Of course she knew! I was totally starting to feel better until she added a fateful, "Yet," and I thought I was going to be sick.
I couldn't watch any more, so I turned away and asked, "How did this happen?"
"After you turned your mom down, I saw her talking to double-O-hottie down there," Macey said. "And they decided to go do something."
"And we knew something like this could happen, so we slipped a tracker into your mom's purse," Bex said smugly, loving the situation a little too much, if you ask me.
"And we activated the tracker in Josh's shoe." Liz held her wrist toward me, and suddenly I saw two red dots blinking side by side, as beneath us, Josh carried two cups of punch through the party, passing inches away from my mother.
"And then we decided you might need an emergency operative extraction," Liz said, reveling in the chance to quote one of her flash cards.
I threw my arms over my head, burying my face in the sweet-smelling hay, willing it all to be a dream, and I had almost succeeded when I heard, "Nice corsage." I looked up and glared at Macey, who shrugged and said, "What? Like you didn't think it?"
But that was hardly the time to explain. Oh, no, we totally had better things to do, as Bex was no doubt aware, because she was backing farther into the shadows, saying, "Come on. One operative extraction coming up."
Before I knew what was happening, Bex was pulling me to my feet and hooking me to the cable, and Macey was pushing open the loft door to the chilly autumn night, getting ready to lower me outside like a great big bale of hay.
"No," I said, but Liz pushed me out the door.
"I can't," I cried, but I was spinning around and around in midair. Before I knew it, Liz was joining me on the ground, followed by Macey, who bolted for the trees that lined the edges of the pasture.
"Liz, I can't do this," I said as I gripped my friend's skinny shoulders. "I've got to get back inside, somehow."
"Have you gone completely bonkers?" Bex said as she joined us on the ground.
"But Josh is in there," I protested.
"So are your mother and Mr. Solomon," Bex pointed out. She jerked the stretch of cable I was holding, and it burned through my hands.
"Bex, I can't just leave him! He'll worry. He'll start looking and asking around and…"
"She's right," I heard Liz saying. "It's a direct violation of CoveOps rule number—"
But I was never going to know which CoveOps rule that violated, because just then a big ruby-colored flash came zooming out of the forest.
"Get in!" Macey cried from the driver's seat. For a moment, I didn't know which was more surprising, the fact that my classmates had come to rescue me in a Gallagher Academy golf cart or that Bex had let Macey drive (although, when you think about it, Macey probably did have way more golf-cart experience than the rest of us).