It took Pigeon a moment to muster a response. “Gary, no, I’m not trying to steal the treasure.”

“I hear you, Pigeon, but this is serious business. I may not come across as the sharpest knife in the drawer, but when it comes to the key, I don’t mess around. The lives of my whole family are tied to that key.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’d never believe me.”

“I’ve seen some crazy stuff lately,” Pigeon insisted. “Real magicians, candy that gives you powers, talking animals. I’ll believe you.”

Gary crossed his arms. “My family has protected the key for well over a hundred years. My great-great-great-grandfather Ebner Haag originally took on the responsibility. All of his direct descendents are held accountable. Only a few of us know about it. My great-uncle guarded the key for about forty years, then passed it to me. Pigeon, if you put the key in an oven, my family gets feverish. If you put the key in the cold, we start freezing. If you put the key under water, nobody in my family can breathe. I’ve seen it or I wouldn’t believe it. My uncle tossed the key in a sink, and I started drowning. If the key fell into the wrong hands, somebody could kill us all, or at least blackmail us. Pigeon, unless I protect the key, we’ll all suffer. And if anyone in my family uses the key to unlock the door . . . we all die.”

“Be glad I found you first,” Pigeon said. “There are powerful magicians who have almost figured out you have the key. I’m working with a guy named John Dart to keep them from stealing the treasure.”

Gary rubbed a finger back and forth against his nostrils. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I can’t do what my uncle said. I don’t want to kill anybody, Pigeon. I really don’t.”

“Then don’t,” Pigeon said. “You can trust this John Dart guy. He won’t let anybody harm your family.”

“No, Pigeon, I can’t trust anybody with this,” Gary said. “I have to leave town. Look, I believe that you stumbled into this unluckily. I don’t know what to do. I can’t let you share what you know.”

“Gary, lots of people know I’m here! They know all about you! You lose nothing by letting me go.”

“I could lose time,” Gary murmured. “Look, I won’t hurt you, I believe you mean no harm, but I need to tie you up while I get away. Go sit in that chair.”

Pigeon obeyed. “You should consider letting John Dart help you. I don’t think you can hide from these magicians.”

“I have a place in mind, and people who can help me,” Gary said. He started using an extension cord to bind Pigeon to the chair.

“Please don’t make it too tight,” Pigeon said. “I have sensitive skin.”

“Somebody will find you,” Gary said, winding the cord snugly around Pigeon’s chest and arms. “If you know what’s best, you’ll keep your mouth shut. If others are looking for me, let them do it on their own. If they hear about me from you, I promise, I’ll make you pay.”

He snagged another extension cord and started working on Pigeon’s legs. Pigeon begged, “Gary, don’t leave me here like this.”

“Be glad you’re alive,” Gary said. “Don’t try to get out. Let somebody find you.”

Gary finished binding his legs and used a rag to gag him. “Sit tight, Pigeon. I’m sorry about this.” He hurried out of the room, shutting the door.

As soon as the door closed, Pigeon started struggling. It soon became apparent that squirming free was going to take a lot of work. Despite his plea, the cords were quite tight. The gag trapped the Sweet Tooth in his mouth, and Pigeon began to feel like he was going to choke, so he chewed it as best he could and swallowed. The action seemed to cause no harm.

Jerking with his whole body, Pigeon began hopping the chair closer to the desk. The telephone was not far from the front edge. The chair was low enough, and he was short enough, that his head was not much higher than the phone. The cords were not wound high enough to prevent Pigeon from craning his neck.

By doggedly inching forward, he managed to position the chair close to the desk at an angle that allowed him to touch the phone with his face by tilting his head forward and sideways. He nudged the handset off the cradle, then began pecking numbers with his nose, proud that he remembered to dial 9 first for an outside line.

After pecking the final number, Pigeon leaned his ear as close to the handset as he could. He heard it ringing.

“Hello?” Nate answered.

“Ate!” Pigeon grunted, trying his best to enunciate in spite of the gag.

“Pigeon?”

“Ary as a ee!”

“What?”

“Ary as a ee!”

“Gary has the key?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where are you? Why do you sound like that?”

“Urry oo is ouse,” Pigeon grunted.

“Hurry to his house?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where are—”

The line went dead. Had the cell phone dropped the call? Straining forward, Pigeon pressed his nose to the cradle and hung up the phone. There was no dial tone. He pecked 9. Still no dial tone.

He caught a flicker of motion on the floor. Turning his head, he saw the little plastic surgeon doll running toward the door. Pigeon yelled at it, his cry muffled by the gag.

The doll paused near the door and faced him. Pigeon struggled against the extension cords to no avail. The doll pointed at Pigeon’s backpack, saluted, fell flat, and wormed under the door.

Pigeon lurched wildly against the extension cords. He had to get free! They had been spying on him! They knew everything he knew! The chair tipped over sideways. The painful shock of the fall left him momentarily dazed. The extension cords remained snug. From his uncomfortable position, Pigeon stared at the unplugged phone cord.

*****

“Pigeon? You there? Pigeon? I lost him!” Nate hung up the phone and thumbed over to the received calls menu.

“Gary has the key?” Summer asked.

“That’s what he told me,” Nate said, calling Pigeon back. There was no answer. “He could hardly speak.”

“Is he in trouble?”

“Sounded like it.”

Nate and Summer were seated in the Buick a block away from Lester Haag’s house. John had gone ahead alone to scout it out. Nate tried calling Pigeon again.

“We better get John,” Summer said.

“Pigeon said we should hurry to Gary’s house,” Nate said. He put away the cell phone. “Whatever line he called on is suddenly out of commission.”