code is the name of Devereaux’s favorite magician.” He looked at me expectantly.
I closed my eyes and knocked my head against the headrest.
“What, you don’t know it?” Ripley’s voice rang with disbelief. “I thought you knew everything about—”
“It’s not that,” I snapped. “Devereaux names the same influences in every interview.”
“Well, who are they?”
I ticked them off on my fingers. “Fred Astaire. Frank Sinatra. Alfred Hitchcock.”
“Those aren’t magicians,” Ripley said.
“No shit!”
He sank into the driver’s seat. “So you don’t know.”
I shook my head, let out a long sigh. “But I know someone who might.”
Ripley’s eyes lit up. “Call them!”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
I looked over at him. “Because it’s my father.”
Ripley leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. I stared out the window toward the back of the strip club.
The momentary silence was interrupted by the chirp of my phone. I recognized the number from the motel—it was Dad.
What if something had happened? What if it was his heart?
My whole body tensed as I answered the call. “Dad? Are you okay?”
“Elias Dante Jr.,” he said. “Where in God’s name are you?”
I sagged with relief; he wasn’t sick, just worried. “On my way back,” I said, trying to sound contrite.
Dad spoke again, his voice like gravel and ash. “I thought I made it clear you were not to leave the motel.”
I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to stay in control.
“Did you hear me, young lady? Because this time, there will be consequences.”
Anger heated my face, and my self-control evaporated. “Like what, Dad?” I asked, gripping the phone hard. “Are you going to ground me? Are you going to send me to my room? Because first I’d have to actually have a room!”
Before he could reply, I ended the call and brought my palm down on the dashboard.
“Jesus, Ellie! This isn’t even my car!”
I clenched my fists. “We have to get back.”
“Okay,” Ripley replied. “But can you calm down enough to drive? I need to do some research.”
We switched seats and got on the road.
I seethed behind the wheel. Here I was trying to save Dad’s ass, and he was treating me like a child. Meanwhile, I could feel Ripley’s eyes on me, judging me every time I braked or changed lanes. As I crossed Las Vegas Boulevard, a middle-aged hipster in a minivan cut me off.
“Watch where you’re going!” I yelled, pounding the horn of Heather’s Hyundai.
“Ellie,” Ripley said. “You’ve got to calm down. You’re going to kill us both.”
I said nothing and kept my eyes on the road.
“Here’s the deal with the lock,” Ripley said, reading from his phone. “According to the manufacturer’s website, you have to enter a five-digit alphanumeric code. You get three tries. Then it locks you out and alerts security.”
“So how do we hack it?” I felt Ripley’s exasperated stare, but I didn’t look at him.
“We don’t, Ellie. Not without special hardware.”
“Where can we get that?”
“Hell if I know,” he said. “I’m not a career criminal.”
I gripped the wheel and stared straight ahead. We were fucked.
“What’s plan B?” Ripley asked, his voice high and calm, as if everything was going to be just fine. “Are you going to ask your dad?”
“Great idea,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll just ask him straight out. ‘Gee, Dad, who is Devereaux’s secret magician crush?’ And then he’ll ask why. And when I don’t answer, he’ll know exactly what we’re up to. Because unlike you, he is not a fucking idiot!”
Ripley threw up his hands. “What did I do to piss you off, Ellie? Why are you being like this?”
“This isn’t some fucking scavenger hunt, Ripley. It’s my life!” I was boiling over now.
“I’m just trying to help you solve the problem! We have to do something!”
“We?” I turned to glare at him, and the words poured out of me like hot bile. I knew they were awful, but I was powerless to stop. “You don’t have to do anything. I have to do it.”
“That’s not fair,” Ripley said, his voice rising. “I drove all the way out here to help—”
“Bullshit.” My face was on fire. “You drove all the way out here to run away. You couldn’t handle Mommy and Daddy fighting, so you left your four-bedroom, air-conditioned house and abandoned your little brother to run away to the desert. You’re so noble, Ripley. So fucking noble.”
Ripley opened his mouth, then shut it.
The rest of the ride was silent except for the sound of my furious breathing. I felt a tiny twinge of guilt, but