The Milestone Protocol, Ernest Dempsey [100 best novels of all time txt] 📗

least that was his take. He’d been invited over several times to share breakfast with their family, and it had been pancakes every single time so far.

He tromped up the steps and stopped at the front door, pausing to catch his breath. When he’d composed himself from the run between his home and his friends’, he pressed on the doorbell and shuffled back a few inches.

Inside, he heard the commotion of chairs scuffing on the floor and then a cheerful “I’ll get it” from Diego’s mother.

Footsteps followed, and within thirty seconds, Desmond heard the door unlocking. The door opened, and Diego’s mother looked down at him with a surprised yet welcoming smile.

“Hey there, Desmond. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Perez,” he said politely. “Are Diego and Corin home?”

“Yeah, they’re upstairs playing video games. Come on in.”

“Thank you.” He stepped inside the warm home and wiped his feet on the mat, then removed his shoes.

She closed the door behind him and waited. “Chilly out there, huh? Did you just run from your house?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Perez.”

A chuckle escaped her lips. “You don’t have to call me that, Desmond.”

“Sorry. Dr. Perez,” he corrected.

Another laugh, this one louder, leaped from her mouth. She lowered her head, shaking it from side to side. “No, I meant you can call me Maria if you like.”

“I wouldn’t feel right about that, Dr. Perez. My parents taught me that kids should call adults by mister or missus.” A puzzled look crossed his face, and he tilted his head to the side, as if analyzing her hairdo or makeup. “That does make me wonder, though. How come you go by Perez and your husband is Mr. Atkins? I mean, I understand why Corin and Diego kept their last names, but why didn’t you? I hope I’m not being rude.”

Maria offered a grin as warm as the room itself. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you being rude, Desmond. You’re one of the nicest boys I’ve met. I hope some of that rubs off on our kids.” She glanced up the stairwell, then returned her gaze to Desmond. “I’m a professional,” she informed with a shrug. “I established myself as Dr. Maria Perez at the university a long time ago. Would be a huge hassle to change it over now. Rick understands, and he doesn’t seem to care.”

Desmond nodded his understanding, sticking out his lower lip in approval. “That does make sense. I imagine getting new business cards alone would be a pain.”

The woman burst out laughing again. “You are something else, Desmond. Go on upstairs. I’m sure Corin and Diego will be happy to see you. Would you like to stay for lunch?”

He thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he said eagerly. “Unless it’s a bother.”

“No bother at all, Desmond. I’ll make enough for everyone.”

“Thank you.” He climbed the stairs, resisting the temptation to bound up them as he would in his own home.

The smell of taco seasoning, onions, and beef filled the house. Desmond noticed it the second Mrs. Perez opened the front door. The odors had smacked him like a tennis racket to the nose. Even though he’d only eaten a couple of hours before, the scents emanating from the kitchen were enough to make his stomach growl and forget any previous meals he’d had that day.

At the top of the stairs, he turned the corner and heard the sounds of the video game coming from the television. The right corner of his lips turned up, and he hurried down the hallway toward the bonus room.

Desmond stepped through the open door and waited just inside, watching the big screen. His friends were playing a soccer game. The score was 2-0, and from the look of frustration on Diego’s face, it was his stepsister who was in the lead.

Desmond had met the two when they were in sixth grade, just before summer vacation began at the end of the school year. They’d been fleeing from a bully and stumbled on Desmond’s secret hiding spot in the woods just outside their neighborhood.

He invited Corin and Diego to his home, where they learned that Desmond’s parents were famous treasure hunters, though they insisted that wasn’t what they did. They were archaeologists, but Desmond preferred the fantastical notion that his parents were always on the hunt for treasure. Ironically, they didn’t need money. Their exploits had gained them a worldwide following, and the books they produced to educate the general public on history and lost cultures provided them with a steady income stream that was far above average. Desmond had never lacked for anything, though his parents weren’t extravagant, save for the international travel they so often embarked upon.

It had been that fateful summer, when Desmond and his two new friends traveled to Italy, that they’d come across an ancient mystery involving the lost treasure of Julius Caesar. Since then, they’d embarked on other adventures, the latest of which being the reason for Desmond’s hurried visit.

“Hey guys,” he said cheerfully.

Neither of them took their eyes off the screen, though Corin’s head twisted ever so slightly.

“Hey, Dez,” the brother and sister replied together.

“Looks like you guys are in a pretty intense match right now.”

“Yeah,” Diego said. “She’s kicking my butt right now. I won the last one, though.”

“After you dropped three straight,” she reminded.

“Don’t get overconfident,” Diego warned. His thumbs twitched quickly, and his striker fired a shot just wide of the goal. He let out a disappointed groan.

The referee on the screen blew the whistle to signal halftime, and the siblings decided it was a good time to take a break. They set their controllers down on the tan leather sofa and gave their full attention to Desmond.

“What’s up?” Corin asked. “You want the next game?”

“Maybe,” Desmond said. He stepped farther into the room while fishing the phone out of his pocket. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

The two looked at him with curious eyes but said nothing—expecting he would fill them