The Secret Cipher by Whitaker Ringwald Read Free Book Online

egg roll into his mouth.
    A special report appeared on the television screen. While Tyler chewed, I read the streaming headline.
    STRANGE BANK ROBBERY IN NEW YORK CITY. EMPLOYEES ACTED LIKE ZOMBIES .
    Huh?
    I walked into the study and sat in the leather chair. Then I turned up the volume. “We don’t have all the facts, but we do know that the robbery took place approximately one hour ago, at the Excelsior bank in Manhattan.” The news reporter stood across the street from the bank. Ambulances were lined up behind her. A police officer was shouting at people to stay behind the yellow tape. “According to one of the paramedics, the bank’s interior looks like it was hit by a windstorm. Papers are scattered everywhere. Windows are shattered as if a tornado had been unleashed.”
    Tornado?
    â€œTyler!” I hollered. “Tyler, get in here! Hurry!”
    Tyler rushed in, a dumpling speared on the end of his fork. “What?” He stared at the screen.
    The news reporter continued. “The security cameras recorded a man entering the bank just a few minutes before closing time. He was holding a leather bag. When he opened the bag, the cameras shattered, indicating the possible presence of a bomb, or some sort of terrorist weapon; we aren’t certain at this point. What we do know is that whatever he had in that bag, it unleashed a powerful force that smashed glass and toppled furniture, but did not kill anyone.”
    Tyler dropped his fork. His jaw went slack.
    â€œPolice have released this photograph of the suspect and are issuing a warning that he should not be approached. He could have another weapon.” A grainy photograph filled the screen. The man was dressed in a black shirt and black pants. He was tall and skinny and wore a fedora. But his face was hidden behind the collar of his shirt.
    â€œAccording to the same paramedic, the bank staff and three customers who were inside during the robbery are all suffering from unusual physical symptoms. He described them as zombies.”
    Tyler sank onto the couch, his face going white.
    My hand, still holding the remote, began to tremble. Then my phone rang.
    â€œEthan?” Jax said on the other end of the line, her voice breathless. “Did you see the news?”
    â€œYes,” I replied.
    â€œDo you know what this means?” She didn’t wait for my response. But I knew. And Tyler knew. That’s why we were both staring at the TV screen, our mouths hanging open.
    â€œThat bank robber has Great-Aunt Juniper’s urn.”

8
Jax
    A bank robber was using Juniper’s urn for evil.
    Who was he? And how had he gotten the urn? Is that why Juniper was at Sisters of Mercy, pretending to have had a stroke? I knew it! I knew she was hiding. Tomorrow we’d go to Boston and get some answers. I hated waiting. It made me feel jittery, like when I drank coffee, which I didn’t do very often. I had enough energy without adding caffeine.
    I turned on my computer. Ever since we’d gotten back from Washington, DC, I’d started keeping a journal. It felt too dangerous to write on paper, especially since my mom liked to go on cleaning sprees and attack every inch of my room. So I created a document with a password—Pandorasbox.And I wrote and wrote and wrote. I wanted to keep track of the events. I tried to remember every word Great-Aunt Juniper had said about the urns—where they’d come from, how she’d found them. If a stranger hacked into this file, he’d think I was writing a story for English class. No one could possibly think it had actually happened!
    As I wrote in my journal, I’d check my inbox, hoping to see an email from Juniper. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her, so many gaps in the story. But most of all, I wanted to know that she was safe.
    But nothing came. Day after day had passed with no contact from her.
    And then that single email had arrived.

    FROM: