The Empress's Tomb by Kirsten Miller Page B

was
that
about?” Kiki asked me. “I was planning to give those guys in the park something to remember us by.”
    â€œThere were more of them than you thought. We weren’t the only ones planning an ambush tonight.”
    â€œAnd you know this because …,” Oona said.
    â€œBecause the boy with the squirrels told me,” I said. “He also gave me this.” I held out the black backpack. Inside were the map and the motion detectors.
    â€œHow did he know it was ours?” asked DeeDee.
    â€œI don’t know,” I admitted.
    â€œYou saw him? What’s he like?” asked Betty.
    â€œIt was hard to tell in the dark. All I can tell you is that he was tall and dirty, and he stank like a yeti.”
    â€œDid you see the size of his squirrels?” asked Oona. “I thought Lopez was a pansy until I got a look at those monsters.”
    â€œMalaysian giant squirrels,” said Kiki. “They’re an endangered species.”
    â€œAre you all right? Did they hurt you?” DeeDee asked Betty.
    â€œNo, one just jumped into my lap. It dropped this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a locket on a golden chain. “Weird, huh? It must have just stolen it from someone”
    â€œDoes it open?” I asked. “Maybe there’s something inside.”
    â€œI haven’t had a chance to look,” said Betty, undoing the locket’s clasp.
    Inside the locket was a scrap of paper. Both sides were covered with tiny handwritten words. Betty walked over to a lamp to read, and the rest of us crowded around her.
    â€œWhat’s it say?” I asked.
    Betty looked up at us, her face red with embarrassment. “It’s a passage from an opera.”
    â€œGo on, give us a taste,” said Kiki with a smirk.
    Betty cleared her voice and started to read.
    â€œO soave fanciulla, o dolce viso, di mite circonfuso alba lunar,
    in te ravviso il sogno ch’ io vorrei sempre sognar.”
    â€œYou speak Italian?” DeeDee asked in astonishment.
    â€œNo, but I know what it means. It’s from an opera I’ve seen a million times.
La Bohème.
My parents designed the costumes for the last production at the Met.”
    â€œWell?” said Luz.
    Betty grimaced. “It’s something one of the main characters says. I can’t translate perfectly, but when he sees a girl named Mimi’s face in the moonlight, he says he knows she can make his dreams come true.”
    â€œWow,” said Oona. “That’s one smooth-talkin’ squirrel.”
    â€œLast I checked, squirrels aren’t fans of the opera. Betty’s got an admirer,” I said.
    â€œToo bad he’s a criminal,” said DeeDee.
    â€œWatch it! Some of my closest friends are criminals,” noted Luz, gesturing toward Oona.
    â€œI’m not a criminal. I’m a
business
woman,” Oona insisted.
    â€œNobody’s perfect,” mumbled Betty. I could see she was flattered.
    â€œHe does seem sophisticated,” I added. “But doesn’t
La Bohème
end in tragedy?”
    â€œDon’t get carried away,” Kiki cautioned. “I’m not saying you’re not naturally irresistible, Betty, but even criminals don’t usually fall in love so quickly. There may be something else going on here.” Standing on tiptoe, she sniffed at Betty and couldn’t hide her disgust. “Feet. I thought so. Isn’t that the wig you were wearing yesterday?”
    Betty frowned. “I washed it,” she said. “I thought I’d gotten all the Eau Irresistible out. You think it was just the perfume that made him write this?”
    â€œCome on, don’t be disappointed,” Kiki consoled her. “This is
good
news. If you’re attracting boys without even trying, it could mean that Iris’s special formula really does work.”
    â€œI’m sure you’d get plenty of love letters if you stopped