User blog:Metool Bard/Fanfiction: Missing Linc (Chapter 23)

Chapter 23: Going All In
The operation started right on schedule. Lily and I were the first ones awake, and one by one, we stirred the others from their slumber. While our parental units were not asleep as anticipated, they were still preoccupied checking in with the po-po. That gave us just enough time to slip downstairs and pile into Vanzilla.

Luckily, Lana had tinkered with the engine before supper so that it wouldn’t make as much noise as we pulled out of the driveway. From there, we drove straight to Hazeltucky. Every once in a while, Lori had Leni check her phone to see if Gin Rummy Prime was contacting us with any further instructions. On a personal note, I am grateful that our eldest sibling is taking the necessary safety precautions. The gambit is dangerous enough without running the risk of a vehicular mishap.

“Alright, we just crossed over into Hazeltucky,” said Lori. “Lisa, you know where we’re going?”

“Affirmative,” I said, pulling out my own cellar mobile device (street name: “smartphone”). “Keep going straight for 5.2 kilometers, then take a right.”

Lori looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Lisa, I literally do not have time to do all that math in my head.”

Figures. I still maintain that the sooner the world collectively adopts the metric system, the better off we’ll be as a species. In the meantime, however, I might as well adapt.

“Go straight for just under three and a quarter miles, then take a right,” I clarified.

“Got it,” said Lori with a nod. “Leni, anything from Gin Rummy Prime?”

“Nothing yet,” said Leni. “And I tried calling them back using the call history thingie. They aren’t picking up.”

Hmm. Most peculiar. For someone who claims that they wish to assist us in our endeavor, they aren’t very forthcoming when it comes to useful intel. However, it’s too soon to jump to conclusions.

“Okay, Lisa. I’m making a right,” said Lori. “Now what?”

“Travel west for another three miles, then make a left at the train tracks” I instructed. “After that, keep going straight for another four miles. That’ll take us straight to Mr. O’Donnell’s studio.”

“That’s where you traced Ginny’s call, yeah?” said Luna.

“Very astute, my melodic elder sibling,” I said, adjusting my glasses. “What’s more, the call from Gin Rummy Prime was also made from the general vicinity of the studio.”

“They said we were gonna find what we needed over there,” Lucy mused. “I wonder what they meant.”

I gave Lucy a curt nod. “That is what we intend to find out in Phase One of our operation. Leni, Luan, Lynn, Lana. Are all of you ready?”

“Born ready,” said Lynn. As expected, she was dressed in her ninja outfit. A perfect form of camouflage for a covert mission like this.

“All set, Lis’,” said Lana, brandishing her tools.

“Just say the word,” said Luan with a salute.

“Totes,” said Leni.

“[Wait, what about the rest of us?]” Lily griped. “[You can’t expect us to just sit here.]”

“You guys are our backup in case anything goes awry,” I said. “We may need a distraction to maintain our cover. Should that need arise, we’ll contact you via walkie-talkie.”

Within a matter of moments, we arrived at our destination. The area certainly did have the appearance of a movie set, with lights and equipment strewn around the place. However, the set seemed awfully quiet. No actors or stage hands were around and about. This does alleviate my concerns about being spotted, but it’s still rather suspicious.

“Look, there’s Mr. O’Donnell’s car!” said Leni. She was pointing at a red Mustang parked next to a caravan trailer. I deduce that particular trailer must belong to Mr. O’Donnell. There were a few other trailers scattered about (as to be expected), but none of their lights were on. Again, the entire place feels oddly deserted.

“Looks like no one’s home,” said Luan. “You sure we’re at the right place, Lis’?”

“Positive,” I said. “And trust me, I am just as unnerved by this situation as you are.”

“Maybe they all went home for the day?” Lola suggested.

At first glance, that explanation actually sounds plausible. However, if those trailers are meant to serve as living quarters and not merely glorified dressing rooms, something is certainly amiss.

“We’ll have to exercise extra caution,” I said. “Be ready for anything and everything. Lori, contact us if anything else comes from our enigmatic informant Gin Rummy Prime.”

“Will do,” said Lori. “Alright, Louds. Phase One of Operation: Find Our Missing Linc is a go.”

Luan let out a muted giggle, to which we all gave her a stern look. She hastily cleared her throat.

“S-sorry. It was a good pun,” she said.

I’d chastise her for not treating this scenario with the seriousness it deserves, but given Luan’s psychological profile, I suppose it can’t be helped. Besides, I don’t have the luxury to focus on such trivial matters. Time is of the essence.

“Right,” I said, taking up my tools. “Let’s roll.”

With that, Leni, Luan Lynn, and Lana followed me out of the car. We stuck to the shadows as I lead my squadron to Mr. O’Donnell’s trailer. Luan cracked her knuckles and approached the door. Once I gave her a thumbs-up, she performed the classic “shave and a haircut” knock and made a mad dash back to Vanzilla.

The door was answered by an adolescent female with a very… peculiar style of dress. From the intel Lori and Leni provided on their investigation, I think it’s safe to assume that this is Virginia O’Donnell. While she looked for the rogue prankster, my team slipped in through the open doorway. We waited behind the door until Virginia gave up her search and left.

Once the coast was clear, I took a moment to survey our surroundings. I have to say, I was not predicting such a spacious interior. Even for a recreational vehicle (street name: “RV”), this was quite extensive. We were standing in what appeared to be a kitchenette, and there were doors leading to different parts of the trailer. It was more akin to an apartment complex.

“Alright, Lis’. Where should we start looking?” asked Lynn.

Hmm. If I had a proper layout of the trailer, I could answer that question easily. But as it stands, I’m not sure what doors lead to what rooms. I’m not even sure what exactly we’re looking for.

“If we spread out, we can cover more ground,” I said. “Leni, Lynn. You check the left corridor. Lana and I will go right. Remember to radio us if you find anything of interest, and keep out of sight.”

“Gotcha,” said Lynn with a salute.

With that, we went our separate ways. To be completely honest, this is still quite unsettling. The lights are indeed on inside this trailer, but there’s no sign of activity anywhere else on the set. Are the O’Donnells the only personnel present? And what are they doing awake at such a late hour of the night? Only one way to find out, I suppose.

***

“Whoa. And I thought our house was a mess.”

I can’t help but share Lana’s sentiments. The room we ventured into appeared to be some sort of artist’s studio, with one simple desk at the center. On the desk, there was a candle holder containing a snuffed candle. Around the desk, there were papers strewn all over the place. We’re lucky the candle isn’t lit; otherwise this would be a blatant fire hazard. As it stands, I believe this is the phenomenon known as “organized chaos,” whereby the occupant knows where everything is located even when outside observers do not. Of course, that doesn’t help us much.

Well, we might as well start somewhere. I picked up one of the myriad pages on the floor and read it over. “How curious.”

“What’s up?”

“This appears to be a discarded page from a script,” I said. “From what I can gather, it’s a scene where One-Eyed Jack meets Gin Rummy Prime. I can’t make out much more; many of these lines are crossed out.”

“Wait, isn’t Gin Rummy Prime that weird guy that’s helping us?” asked Lana.

“Yes, but from my understanding, that pseudonym is based off of an existing character in the Ace Savvy franchise,” I said. “Perhaps they had a part in the movie, but it was cut for one reason or another.”

Lana frowned. “Yeah, that’s interesting and all, but how’s that gonna help us find Lincoln?”

I sighed. “Truth be told, I’m not sure,” I confessed. “And we certainly don’t have time to sift through all of these documents. We’ll need to narrow down our search.”

“Maybe there’s something in the desk?” Lana suggested.

“It’s certainly plausible,” I said. “Let’s take a look-see, sibling.”

We walked over to the desk in question. While Lana just went straight for it, I tried my best to tread carefully over the papers. One thing about the organized chaos phenomenon is that the occupant has an uncanny sense of knowing when something’s out of place. When we reached the desk, the first thing I noticed was an envelope on top of the desk. The envelope had a generic wax seal. Hmm. I wonder…

“You found something, Lisa?” asked Lana.

“Just testing a hypothesis,” I said. I took out HARV and had it run a simulation of Mr. O’Donnell writing a letter. Now, just add the data I found from my investigation of Tetherby Manor, and…

Just as I suspected. That silver ring Mr. O’Donnell lost at Tetherby Manor must’ve been used to imprint his signature into a wax seal. And seeing as this envelope’s seal did not contain Mr. O’Donnell’s initials, I presume that it was written recently. I hopped onto the chair and deftly scooped up the envelope, checking the address.

“Odd,” I said. “This is addressed to the McBride residence.”

“Yeah, that is weird,” said Lana. “Why would Mr. O’Donnell be writing to the McBrides? How’d he even get their address?”

While the second question is easy enough to answer (most addresses are just a quick internet search away), the first is not. I opened the letter and read it over.

Dear One-Eyed Jack:

''You are cordially invited to O’Donnell Studios to have an exclusive behind-the-scenes look at our new Full House Gang movie! My crew will meet you at the park today at noon. We look forward to meeting you.''

~D.O.

My my my. How interesting. So Mr. O’Donnell wants to meet with Clyde. But wait, why call him by that superhero name? No one outside of Clyde’s social network should be privy to that information. This feels important.

“What is it?” asked Lana.

“An invitation for Clyde to see the production of the Full House Gang movie,” I replied, pocketing the letter. “Unfortunately, we don't have the time or resources to construct a forgery and cover our tracks.”

Lana furrowed her brow. “Maybe we can find something in one of these drawers.”

I suppose that’s as good an idea as any. I climbed down and tried to open one of the drawers in the desk. Sadly, it was stuck. “I got this,” said Lana. She took out a screwdriver and ball-peen hammer. Wedging the screwdriver into the upper lip of the drawer, she tapped the end with her hammer like a sculptor chiseling bits of marble. After a few deft taps, the drawer was pried open.

“Excellent work, sibling,” I said. I took out a flashlight and peered into the drawer. Well, for one thing, I can see why the drawer was stuck. There’s a strange pale substance coating the entire inside of the drawer. It’s rock hard and rather smooth. Most curious indeed.

Before I could conduct any forensic analysis, Lana reached in and scraped a bit of the substance with her fingernail. She then sniffed it and licked it. Because of course she did. I know I should be disgusted by this unhygienic behavior, but this is Lana we’re talking about. Unhygienic behavior is sort of her raison d’être.

“Candle wax,” she mused. “Now why would Mr. O’Donnell have a drawer full of dried candle wax?”

Why indeed. I can’t think of a single practical application for this. I took a closer look inside the drawer. After looking around for a while, I saw a small imprint in the wax. It was hard to tell due to the lighting, but something about its shape caused my neurons to start firing. I took out HARV and had it analyze the imprint. If this is what I think it is…

“Eureka!” I exclaimed.

“Shh~! Keep your voice down!” Lana hissed.

Right, right. Nngh, dang it. And I’ve made such a concerted effort to maintain our stealth thus far. Luckily, it appears no one heard us.

“Apologies,” I said, adjusting my glasses. “It’s just that I found something rather important.”

“What is it?”

“That imprint there in the wax is in the shape of a key,” I explained. “According to multiple sources, someone gave Papa Wheelie and Flat Tire a skeleton key to Royal Woods Middle School.”

Lana tilted her head. “I don’t follow.”

Hmm. How best to explain this?

“Lana, have you ever made a handprint in wet cement?” I inquired.

Lana raised an eyebrow. “What kinda question is that? Of course I have. Lola says movie stars do it all the time.”

“Right. Well, imagine instead of your hand, you were to place a key in that wet cement. Once the cement dries, it would be conceivable to use the imprint as a mold to forge a copy of that key.”

Lana soon put the pieces together. “So, you’re saying Mr. O’Donnell had a bunch of wax in his drawer to make a copy of a key?”

“Precisely,” I said with a nod. “And seeing as we have someone involved in the Full House Gang movie giving a key to Papa Wheelie and Flat Tire…”

“Then maybe the key imprint is the copy of the key from Lynn’s school!” Lana said, concluding my thought.

I nodded again. It all seems rather plausible on the surface. But that still begs the question: how did Mr. O’Donnell get his hands on the original?

Before I could ponder any further, I received a call on my walkie-talkie.

“Strong Suit to Card Counter. Come in, Card Counter.”

I answered straight away. “This is Card Counter. What’s your status? Over.”

“I think we’ve got something big here,” said Lynn. “You’d better check this out.”

I decided to overlook the breech in radio communication protocol. Like many other annoyances, it was immaterial.

“We’ll be right there. Hold your position,” I instructed. “Over and out.”

“You sure we aren’t missing anything, Lis’?” asked Lana.

Hmm. Now that she mentions it, it’s still possible that there’s something we overlooked in this pigsty. However, searching for one solid piece of evidence in all of these papers would be akin to looking for a proverbial needle in a haystack.

“If there’s time, we’ll come back to it later,” I said. “For now, let’s see what Leni and Lynn have discovered.”

Lana nodded, and the two of us departed from the unkempt room. I feel the more we dig into this case, the more peculiar the whole scenario becomes. Even so, I believe the pieces are starting to fall into place. If my theory is correct, we should be home with Lincoln before daybreak. But let’s not count our proverbial chickens before they hatch.

***

The other side of the trailer was a sleeping quarters, and a rather stylized one at that. The walls and ceiling were decorated with all sorts of Ace Savvy paraphernalia. There was a vanity set up on the far wall, leading me to believe that the occupant of this room was female. The vanity, however, was very specifically designed. All of the cosmetics seemed to be lined up to deliberately give the appearance of a computer console. I suppose I’m not one to judge; interior design is not one of my strong points.

I spotted Leni over by the nightstand, utilizing a hairpin to pick the lock on what appeared to be a small steel box. She noticed me and Lana and waved us over.

“Hey, guys,” she whispered. “I’m just about done here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Lynn mentioned that you two were onto something big.”

“Yeah. I think it’s in this box here,” said Leni. “I was kinda nervous about opening it, but there was a note from Grip saying it was okay.”

“A note from who?” Lana asked.

“Grip. I don’t know who that is, but look.”

Leni brandished a small letter with a bit of tape stuck to it. I read it over quickly.

''You’ll find what you need in the nightstand. Have at it.''

~GRP

…

Oh. Of course.

“Leni, I believe these are the initials of our informant, Gin Rummy Prime,” I said.

Leni blinked and looked at the note again. “Oh~. Right. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Except it doesn’t,” said Lana. “This isn’t Gin Rummy Prime’s stuff. How can they give us permission to go through it?”

“Furthermore, why are you picking the lock, Leni?” I inquired. “Didn’t Gin Rummy Prime provide you with a key?”

“Well, we looked for one, but we couldn’t find it,” said Leni.

Hmm. For someone who has access to a lot of information about our case, Gin Rummy Prime is quite incompetent. At least, that’s how it appears. But I know better than to merely accept something at face value.

Lana looked around the room and scratched her head. “Hang on. Where’s Lynn?”

“‘Sup?”

Yee~! H-how did she do that?! I was under the impression that only Lucy had that skill!

“Dang it, Lynn! Don’t scare us like that!” I admonished through gritted teeth.

Lynn frowned. “Sorry, guys. Wasn’t trying to scare you. I guess this ninja outfit really works.”

“Where have you been?” asked Lana.

“I’m on lookout,” said Lynn. “That’s actually why I’m here. Leni, I think Ginny’s almost done in the bathroom. Mind picking up the pace?”

“Almost got it,” Leni grunted. “And… there!”

With a click, the lock snapped open and dropped to the floor. Leni opened the box, and we all peered inside. The first item of interest was an Ace Savvy comic. I recognized right away that it wasn’t Bill Buck’s art style, but whoever made the cover does have quite a bit of talent. It showed two characters back-to-back, Ace Savvy and an unknown male. A dividing line between the two gave the impression that they came from two entirely different worlds. There was a title in the corner.

“‘The Pinochle Paradox: Return of Gin Rummy Prime,’” I read aloud. “‘By Virginia O’Donnell.’”

Leni’s eyes went wide. “Wait, this must be Ginny’s entry into the Ace Savvy contest Lincoln and Clyde won!” she said. “But what’s it doing in here?”

Hmm. Something about that sounds wrong note to me. I thought back to Tetherby’s museum room.

“Are you certain Ms. O’Donnell entered that contest?” I asked.

“Um, yeah. Clyde checked the list and everything,” said Leni. “Why?”

“Because according to Lord Tetherby, Mr. O’Donnell entered that contest as well as a publicity stunt,” I said. “The comic in question is in Tetherby’s personal museum as a reminder of his failure.”

Leni blinked. “But, Mr. O’Donnell’s name wasn’t on the list when Clyde checked it.”

Curiouser and curiouser. If Mr. O’Donnell didn’t enter the contest, then what was that comic I saw in Tetherby’s private gallery? Furthermore, that particular comic was nothing like this. This seems like a more faithful interpretation of the source material.

“Hey, look! There’s something else in here!” said Lynn.

Indeed there was. Beneath the comic was a thick ream of papers. Judging from the pastel blue cover and flimsy plastic binding, I believe this is some sort of script. No title, though. I lifted it out of the box and flipped to a random page.

“‘Act II, Scene i.  Location: Royal Woods Middle School.’”

…

I had to do a double take. Did I read the correctly?

“Whoa, time out! What’s my school doing in some script?!” asked Lynn.

Leni’s brow furrowed. “Hang on. I remember Ginny saying that Mr. O’Donnell makes scripts for everything. Or something like that. Lisa, keep reading.”

I complied. “‘While the Director promotes the new Full House Gang movie at a school assembly, Gin slips into the janitor’s office. She spots the skeleton key glistening on the wall. With a deft pluck, she snatches it. She then takes a ball… of… melted… wax…’”

…

Holy smokes. If this isn’t conclusive evidence, I don’t know what is. I’ll have to scan the entire document to make sure, but as it stand, this is exactly what we need to tie up all the loose ends. My hypothesis might very well be correct after all. Lincoln is just within our grasp! At last, this nightmare can finally…

“Huh? Why’s my door locked? Who’s in there?!”

Dang it. It’s too soon to celebrate.

“Siblings, scatter!” I commanded.

Each of us took cover in several different hiding spots. Lana and I hid under the bed while Leni found a conveniently-shaped lamp to hide behind. The door rattled and shook as someone tried to open it. When it stopped, Lynn unlocked it and dove behind the vanity.

The door swung open as Ginny barreled in, most likely trying to bust the door down with her shoulder. She fell right in front of Lana, who held her breath. We watched as she got to her feet and dusted herself off.

“Must’ve been stuck or something,” she grumbled. She then walked over to her vanity and sighed. From my vantage point, I could see her tap each of her cosmetics, making a beeping sound with her mouth as she did so. Once the bizarre ritual was finished, she took something out of her drawer and stared down at it. I watched as her brow furrowed in the mirror’s reflection.

“It’s getting late,” she mused. “Should I call again?”

“Gin!”

A gruff voice called from outside the room. Ginny perked up and spun around.

“C-coming, Dad!” she squeaked. She left her room quickly, leaving whatever she was looking at on the vanity. We all came out of our hiding places.

“I wish her dad would stop calling her that,” Leni said with a pout. “She doesn’t like it.”

I approached the vanity to see what Ginny left behind. It appeared to be her cellphone, but upon closer inspection, it was rigged with some sort of vocal synthesizer. I had to smile. It appears at least one of my theories is correct.

“I believe there’s a reason she dislikes that nickname,” I said, taking out my walkie-talkie. “High Card, this is Card Counter. Over.”

“High Card here. What’s your status?”

“Phase One is complete. We’re heading back now. Over.”

“Good. Let us know if you need a distraction.”

“Copy that. Card Counter, over and out.”

With that, we slipped out of the trailer as quietly as possible. One by one, the pieces are falling into place. Solving this mystery is only a matter of time now. We should discuss our findings with the others first, of course. But after that, we move right on to Phase Two…

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