Addison Cooke and the Treasure of the Incas by Jonathan W. Stokes Read Free Book Online

Molly.
    â€œMolly, they’re not going to ticket a horse!”
    As police sirens swept the surrounding streets, Molly and Addison hurried inside their apartment building.
    They bolted up the endless set of stairs and reached the fifth-floor landing out of breath. They rushed down the hall and skidded to a halt. The apartment door was ajar.
    Addison lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet. When he crept into the living room, his jaw fell open in shock.
    The sofa was overturned, and the coffee table lay broken on its side. A bookshelf was toppled over and ten years of
National Geographic
magazines were scattered across the floor. Aunt Delia’s drawings and paintings hung crookedly on the walls. Her well-worn copy of the complete works of Lady Florence Craye lay on the rug, torn into tatters.
    Addison and Molly searched the entire apartment. Every room was ransacked.
    â€œAunt Delia’s gone,” said Addison. “But her purse and keys are still on the side table.”
    â€œShe’s been kidnapped like Uncle Nigel.”
    â€œWell, she put up a better fight than he did,” said Addison, considering the wreckage of the apartment. Then, noticing Molly’s horrified expression, he added, “I’m sure she’s fine. Ragar needs her cooperation to find the treasure.”
    Addison and Molly righted the overturned sofa so they could sit down.
    â€œThis is definitely a sticky wicket.”
    â€œAddison, we just fled the police and illegally parked a stolen horse in a handicapped zone! This is more than a sticky wicket!”
    â€œPatience, sister. It is in moments like these that the Addison Cooke brain is at its finest.” Addison stood up to pace the floor. “Any moment now, the neurons will click into gear like a well-oiled machine.”
    Police sirens howled in the distance, drawing closer. Molly stood up, assessing the situation. “Aunt Delia is kidnapped, Uncle Nigel is kidnapped, and we just hijacked a horse.” Molly spread her arms wide. “We weren’t supposed to be in the museum after hours. We broke expensive artifacts. Professor Ragar tried to kidnap us. And now the entire New York Police Department wants us arrested. We’re fugitives!”
    â€œAnd to think,” Addison mused, “just a few hours ago we were worried about being grounded.”
    Molly flopped back down on the sofa.
    Addison clasped his hands behind his back and furrowed his brow. He knew that the solution to a problem often lay at the end of a well-paced floor. He took a few meditative laps around the overturned coffee table. “We need to find that second key,” he said at last.
    â€œWe need to help Aunt Delia and Uncle Nigel. That’s what’s important, Addison!”
    â€œTwo steps ahead of you, sister. Professor Ragar needs their help solving the riddle and finding the second key. So if we get to the second key fast enough, that’s where we’ll find them.”
    Molly weighed the truth of this. “We’re just middle schoolers. We can go to the police. We’ll explain what happened in the museum. They’re not going to throw kids in jail.”
    â€œWe
are
just middle schoolers. So who would believe us? Molly, listen to all those sirens outside—there’s a full-on manhunt. For
us
. Besides, Ragar is practically best friends with the police commander.” Addison shook his head. “We can’t show our faces. Ragar has seven hundred and fifty tons of treasure at stake. If he can kidnap us, too, he will.”
    â€œWhy? We’re not Incan experts.”
    â€œBlackmail.”
    â€œExplain it like I’m a sixth grader,” said Molly, who was a sixth grader.
    â€œIf Professor Ragar kidnaps us, he can get Aunt D and Uncle N to do whatever he wants. They’ll be forced to cooperate and help him find the treasure.”
    Molly nodded. “Those sirens are getting closer.”
    Addison sighed and