The Third Rescue Read online

  There were several military bases around this part of Nevada, and a big testing range off over the mountains somewhere.

  Maybe just some rancher—or kids, out partying in the desert.

  Gus threw open the car door, slid into the seat, and turned the engine on, but left the lights off. He didn’t want to be spotted by whoever was coming. He glanced up to where the road ran up the hill to a crest, toward the rumble that he could clearly hear now. There was a set of headlights coming over the ridge. Whoever it was would be upon him soon.

  He slammed the car into gear and turned toward the desert, blind in the dark. He hit the gas, spinning his rear wheels in the dirt, and promptly hit one of the scrub bushes that grew out here—about the only thing that did. He backed up to go around the bush, shifted back into drive, but before he could get completely off the road, the truck came barreling down on him, going much too fast for the road and the dark. Then another vehicle appeared over the ridge, this one smaller, going just as fast.

  He was screwed and he knew it. He was out in the open, plainly visible. In fact, his immediate fear was of being broadsided by the truck coming at him, headlights bouncing up, down, side to side, getting bigger by the second.

  8

  Newport, Kentucky, April 2018

  When CJ told Penny he’d like to come to Vegas for spring break, it had taken a whole flurry of messages back and forth before she believed him. Then he made sure she got her parents on board before he talked to Nini. He wanted to have every detail thought out first. He couldn’t afford another fiasco like the spring break trip with Oval.

  He approached Nini when she got home from the restaurant a little past eleven. He figured he’d soften her up first, try to make her feel a little guilty for not taking family vacation trips—that Las Vegas visit for Aunt Donna’s birthday was the last trip they’d made. But Nini didn’t seem moved when he mentioned that fact. She’d always said that they couldn’t travel much because a restaurant couldn’t take care of itself.

  “This is about going to Florida with Oliver, isn’t it?” she asked with a look that said I’m too tired for this garbage.

  “No,” replied CJ, feeling a little smug. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  “Oh?” Nini said, raising her eyebrows.

  “You know how I’ve been working on that project on our family tree?”

  “You mean that one where you keep asking me about my parents, even though I’ve told you I never knew them? That project?”

  “Right. Well, I’ve got a new idea. I’m going to write my report on Uncle Marcio.”

  Noga, who was sitting in his favorite chair across the room, perked up when he heard Marcio’s name.

  Nini looked at Noga. “Did you know about this?” she asked.

  Noga replied, “I suggested it earlier. I don’t want him writing about me.”

  Nini turned back to CJ. “Okay, that’s fine,” she said, as if she got final approval on who he picked. “What’s that got to do with Florida?”

  So CJ explained that he was going to go to Las Vegas for spring break, that Penny had invited him and that she’d cleared it with her parents, Uncle Kevin and Aunt Melissa, and he could interview them about Marcio and get details that would work for his paper. Of course, they weren’t his real aunt and uncle, because they were his grandfather’s brother’s children, but that’s how things worked in CJ’s family. He could also talk to Aunt Donna, who lived in Las Vegas in a retirement home.

  When Noga started to object to the cost of flying to Las Vegas, CJ was prepared. He’d found reasonably cheap flights on Frontier, who’d recently opened some new routes from the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky airport, and said he’d saved some money for his spring break trip that would just about cover the whole thing. Nini was so impressed she offered to pay the airfare so he could use his money for meals and fun on his trip.

  Nini’s only admonition was to tell him to be careful about what he wrote about Marcio. “Don’t believe everything you read, and don’t dig into what he did for a living,” she’d said.

  “No problem.” And it really wasn’t a problem since CJ didn’t intend to write about Marcio at all. His real plan was to go to Las Vegas and find out who Nini’s parents had been.

  He was confident that if he talked to people in person, he’d be able to get the information he couldn’t find online or over the phone. He’d always been good with people. He had some of Nini’s empathy, or at least that’s what she told him. Being able to “read” people—to have a sense of what they were thinking or where they were coming from—helped him, whether he just wanted them to like him, or whether he wanted to persuade them to agree with him.

  CJ went back to school the next day with renewed vigor. But he suddenly felt very guilty when Oval greeted him, saying, “Dude. We have to find a way to get us to Destin. Jordan so totally screwed us.”

  CJ felt like a jerk when he told Oval he was going to Las Vegas now. “Sorry, Oval,” he said, “but no way Nini’s going to let me go to Destin after Jordan’s dad said he didn’t know anything about it.”

  Oval seemed to take it well. “No problem. I understand. I’ll figure something out, man.” And then, seeing CJ’s guilty-looking face, “It’s not on you.”

  By the time they met up at CJ’s locker after school, Oval had a solution. “I’ll come with you to Vegas! Loose women, dancing girls, casinos, free booze. It’ll be epic!”

  CJ’s reacted first with surprise, then with joy. “Really?” he said, ready to give Oval a bear hug. But then reality slowly set in. He thought about his secret mission. “But it’s complicated. It’s expensive. We have to fly,” he said.

  “Hold on there, Superman,” said Oval, lopsided grin in place. “What makes you think I can’t fly?” He paused a beat, and then gave CJ a good-natured shove. “No, really. I’ve got money saved up, plus my birthday money, plus some from Christmas I still have.”

  CJ pulled his backpack from his locker, his mind racing. “But I’m staying with my cousin.”

  “Hey, I’ll sleep on the floor. No biggie.” He nodded quickly, over and over, literally bouncing in anticipation. “What do you say?”

  “I just don’t want you to get bored or anything. I’ve got stuff I’ve got to do.”

  Still bouncing. “One, it’s not here. Two, it’s Vegas, baby. How bad could it be?”

  So Oval checked with his parents (really) and CJ checked with Nini and Noga, who confirmed with Penny’s parents. Oval got a ticket on the same flights as CJ, and, as he said when he called CJ to confirm everything, “It’s on, baby. The epic trip to Vegas!”

  9

  Newport, Kentucky, April 2018

  The rest of the week went slowly for CJ. He was excited about going to Las Vegas, and about his real mission: to find Nini’s birth records. He asked Mr. Jared for advice on how to find the information he needed.

  Mr. Jared said he admired CJ for tackling the project, but warned him that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, because he was likely to fail to find anything about Nini. He said that FamilyHeritage had access to almost all public records, so if there wasn’t anything on their website, the records probably didn’t exist. He mentioned a couple other websites CJ could check, including the one for the Mormon Church, but he’d talked about those in class and CJ had already checked them.

  Mr. Jared told him not to put all his eggs into the Nini basket, and to make sure he had a backup plan.

  CJ told him he would write about Great-Uncle Marcio if he couldn’t find anything about Nini, and that he’d be researching Marcio on his trip just in case.

  “Since you’ll be looking for birth records and census data that FamilyHeritage doesn’t have,” Mr. Jared had said, “try the local library and newspapers. Look for any mention of your grandmother in newspapers around the time of her birth, and around any significant event, like graduation. Look for her family name. What was her maiden name?”

  “Jones,” CJ replied sheepishly.

  “O
h.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pretty common.” He shrugged. “But still, give it a try. And check out big hospitals. Sometimes they keep birth and death records.”

  CJ went online that night to find out where he could find libraries, newspapers and hospitals in and around Las Vegas.

  Walking into his Origins class on Friday, CJ was greeted with a smiling Mr. Jared. “Guess what I found in my box today,” he said, smiling and holding out a big manila envelope.

  “Really! That’s awesome!” CJ grabbed the envelope, noting the big FamilyHeritage logo on the front. “Thanks, Mr. Jared.”

  He had almost forgotten about the second DNA test, having focused all his attention on the trip to Las Vegas. He tore into the envelope and studied the report. “Look,” he said, “no more ‘Unknown.’” Feeling very relieved to have a “normal” DNA report like the rest of the kids, he held the paper up to show Mr. Jared, who’d followed him to his seat.

  “No more ‘Unknown,’” Mr. Jared said, studying the report. “Actually, it looks like you’re even more Italian than you thought.”

  “Let me see.” Sure enough, it said he was actually 40% Italian. Quickly, he realized that all the “Unknown” DNA on the first report had been included in the Italian total on this one, and the rest of the numbers hadn’t changed. “Weird. But what the heck, at least it’s not ‘Unknown,’ right?”

  “Congratulations,” said Mr. Jared. “Oh, by the way, is there something else in that envelope? I thought it felt a little heavy.”

  CJ flipped the envelope over, shook it, and a square box slid out. The box held an expensive-looking black leather wallet, with a small FamilyHeritage logo embossed on the inside.

  “Very nice,” said Mr. Jared, picking up the wallet. “I guess those FamilyHeritage guys really want to make up for making you take the second test.” He handed it back to CJ. “Just the thing for a guy taking a trip, huh?”

  CJ had to agree. He carried a nylon wallet that he’d had since middle school, so this was a definite upgrade. “Things are really looking up, Mr. Jared.”

  But after he got home that evening, and sat with the two DNA reports, he felt a little uneasy. How could he be 40% Italian? He knew that his dad’s side of the family was mostly Irish and Scottish, because he’d traced the family tree back. He didn’t think there was any Italian blood on that side. So did that mean that Nini was mostly Italian? That’s the only thing that made sense. She didn’t look Italian, but then, Italians probably weren’t all swarthy dark-haired types like Noga.

  Maybe Nini was Italian. She said she didn’t know, so why not? CJ looked Italian, after all. He had what Nini called a “Roman” nose, like Noga, which he thought made him look kind of grown-up, even if it was a little big. He had dark hair, but he wasn’t nearly as dark-skinned as Noga. So he got his coloring from his father, from those Irish and Scottish genes. Nini could still be Italian. Some Italians were even blonde. Noga had said so.

  10

  Las Vegas, April 2018

  Las Vegas was hot. CJ could tell from the wisp of outside air that leaked around the opened door to the plane when he stepped into the jetway. It had been warm back home for early April, in the sixties with an occasional seventy over the last couple of weeks, and he knew it was warmer in Vegas—he’d packed all summer clothes, polos and shorts—but he was still shocked at how warm that breath of air felt.

  He could almost hear Nini’s voice. I hope you’ve brought the right clothes for this heat. But of course, she wasn’t there.

  No, but Oval was there. And it was Oval’s voice he heard: “Hot, it’s hot. Dude, it’s hot. Sweeeet.”

  CJ stepped into the wide hallway after clearing the gate, instinctively looking for someone to follow. He’d never flown without Nini and Noga before. He felt foolish. Seventeen and on his own? He could figure it out. He searched for the signs for baggage claim, found one, pointed Oval in the right direction and set off. He was cool.

  As they walked past the security checkpoint, CJ saw a lot of people holding signs. “Smith,” “Dr. Tuttle,” etc. And, sure enough, there was one with his name on it. “Mazza.” Holding the sign was a girl with short dark hair, wearing a yellow blouse and black shorts, looking worried. Could that possibly be Penny, his cousin? She was small, which was how he remembered her. But something about the way she filled out those shorts seemed different. She didn’t look like the annoying little girl with braces that he expected. She’d posted online and sent him probably hundreds of selfies over the last couple of years, but to be honest, he hadn’t really paid attention. He would now.

  Apparently, Oval noticed too. “No way. Is that little hottie your cousin?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  Oval leaned toward CJ and whispered, “She is so out of your league.”

  “I know,” whispered CJ back.

  “I may have to step in here and take care of her.”

  “In your dreams.” He shot Oval a dirty look.

  “Hi. Penny?” CJ said aloud as he walked up to her.

  The girl immediately brightened. “Hey, hotshot. Sorry about the doofus sign, but I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.” She tried to hug him, but the sign got caught between them so they ended up doing an awkward little dance step.

  “Sorry. Sorry,” she said as she tried to wrestle the sign out of the way.

  “No problem,” said CJ, smiling. “Of course I remembered you. I mean, we only talk about fifty times a day.” That wasn’t quite true. Penny posted constantly, but CJ seldom posted, and almost never directly to Penny.

  “Oh, that’s just me,” said Penny, still looking flustered. “I get a little carried away sometimes. Sorry.” She gave him a quick smile, and then turned to Oval. “So, stud, you must be Oval. How’s the wrestling career going?”

  Now Oval looked embarrassed. He turned to CJ and said, “You told her I was a wrestler?”

  “Yeah,” CJ said. “It was the only thing I could think of telling her about you that was a positive.”

  “Ha ha.” Oval turned to Penny, who was smirking. “I wrestle on the high school team, you know. And I am pretty good, but it’s a long way from Wrestlemania-type wrestling. I have many more charms that my former friend CJ has apparently failed to tell you about.”

  “Cool. I can’t wait to hear all about them, but first, let’s get your bags and then head up to my house.” Penny pointed down the concourse. “We can take the scenic route.”

  CJ and Oval fell into step behind her. Oval gave CJ a little bump, and a thumbs up.

  The boys had each checked a bag, so they chatted as they walked to baggage claim and waited on the bags. Mostly, Penny chattered away, about how cool it was that they had spring break the same week, and about Vegas—the great weather, how much there was to do, etc. Oval was all over it; everything was either awesome or epic. CJ occasionally threw out a “That’s cool,” but mostly remained quiet while the two of them kept a nonstop stream of chatter going.

  When they got to the car, Penny had another bout of nervousness. “I’ve been driving, well, I’ve had my license for like, months now, and like that, but you know. Well, my mom, this is my mom’s car, she like, let me drive here to pick you up, no problem and stuff. But—you, if you want . . .”

  CJ knew where she was going with this. “Yeah. I’d like to drive, if that’s okay.”

  But Oval thought he should drive. “Not so fast,” he said. “I’m the one who actually owns a Honda, just like this one.”

  “Your old Civic is nothing like this Accord,” pointed out CJ.

  Penny said her parents would be happier if CJ drove. “Because they know him and everything,” she said.

  Oval shrugged and jumped into the back seat. “No biggie. Be easier for me to take in the sights,” he said.

  While he was starting the car, CJ smiled his best and casually said, “Your hair, it’s shorter than last time I was out here, isn’t it?” He wasn’t normally so observant, but he sensed that Penny was unco
mfortable, anxious about meeting him. Frankly, he was probably at least as nervous as she was, but he figured if she loosened up, maybe he could, too. Commenting on her short hair was a way to show that he was paying attention to her. He hoped it would help.

  She looked startled, whipping her head around, mouth agape. Before she could answer, he continued, “I like it,” smiling again as he backed out of the parking space.

  “Thanks,” she managed, blushing. “I just got it cut, and . . . well, it’s shorter and everything. I mean, I’ve worn it short for a while now, but, you know . . .” She stopped, throwing up her hands. “Whatever.”

  She directed them north on Las Vegas Boulevard, up the famous Strip. She prattled on, pointing out some of her favorite hotels, talking about them like she was a frequent guest—New York-New York, the Bellagio, Caesars Palace, the two Wynns, and Circus Circus. Oval oohed and ahhed, opened his window and took pictures of the lights and sights.

  It was slow going because the traffic was horrendous, both the cars and the pedestrians creeping along, gawking at the sights and the neon spectacle. It was nighttime in Vegas, nearly ten p.m., but CJ had the sense that things were just getting started. He, however, was tired. With the three-hour time change, it was late for him, and he and Oval had been on a plane or in airports for nearly seven hours by then, so he suggested they cut their tour short and head for home.

  Oval reluctantly agreed.

  Penny lived in a suburb north and west of the Strip. Her house, a Southwest desert stucco two-story with tile roof, looked new to CJ. Penny said her family had lived there “forever,” but when CJ told her his house was over 120 years old, she admitted hers had probably been built only about twenty years ago.

  Penny’s parents were friendly in a welcoming but not smothering way. Melissa was not a big woman, but was mom-shaped, CJ thought. Kevin was tall, with a belly that hung over his belt.