Beat the Odds Read online

  Finally Izzy said, “OK, my turn to write a letter.” She put the pen to her lips. “How did you do this one so fast? You had to think of sentences that started with the letters of each word. That’s the hardest part for me, but you did it in three seconds.”

  Ana gave Izzy’s hair another light tug. “The mother of invention, kitten. The mother of invention.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The dress was itchy and uncomfortable and Ana’s face hurt from fake-smiling. She watched as Philip shook hands with everyone, as Yvette stood by his side and made comments. Ana stood next to the bar, sipping a Coke.

  She checked her phone: almost eight. They hadn’t even served dinner yet. That was the thing with these events. People were so busy congratulating themselves they didn’t have time to eat.

  A voice near her made her jump. “Bored, huh?” A middle-aged woman next to her smiled. It looked like a real smile, not a fake one. But then again, Ana knew that some people were very good actors.

  The woman motioned to the bartender with her head. The bartender immediately poured something brown in a small glass.

  “You must be Philip’s daughter?” the woman said.

  Ana felt the word daughter ping off her like a pellet from a BB gun. “Um, I’m Ana Rivera.”

  “I used to hate going to these things when I was your age,” said the woman.

  Ugh. This lady was going to act like they had something in common. Keep smiling. Just keep smiling.

  A sweaty palm fell on her shoulder and she heard Philip say, “Corinne!”

  “Philip,” said the woman, “congratulations. This is a well-deserved honor.”

  “Thank you,” said Philip as Ana moved forward to get away from his hand. “You’re meeting my daughter here, I see. I’ll make it official. Ana, this is Corinne Huffmann, CEO of Huffmann Industries—one of my clients.”

  Ah, the backpack people. Philip talked about them a lot: innovation and blah-blah-blah. Charming. “Nice to meet you,” Ana said, wondering how soon she could escape to another corner of the room.

  But Philip was in small-talk mode now. “How’s your father doing?” he asked Corinne.

  “Oh, the same as always. He wanted to be here tonight but something came up.”

  “Glad he’s keeping busy in his retirement. You know, I’ve tried to teach Ana about investing. She should really take lessons from your father, though.”

  Ana bit back a grimace. It was weird to think of the times when Philip tried to be—nice. Fatherly. Like when he’d tried to explain the stock market to her. He’d seemed to be making a real effort. As if the shouting and the hitting and the rest of it had come from a completely different person. As if he was actually trying to connect with her. Of course, he still failed at being a role model. He’d said to her, “I’d sell my own wife on the stock market if I thought it would make me richer. Money is power, Ana. Without it, people are just weak and useless.” His idea of a moral lesson.

  Corinne grinned. “I agree! I’ve never known anyone who can think as far ahead as my dad. Except me, of course.”

  They both laughed at that. Ana didn’t think she could stand much more of this. All these self-satisfied rich people patting each other on the back. “Excuse me, I have to run to the bathroom,” Ana said.

  She rushed off before Philip could offer any fake concern.

  Ana checked her watch. 8:15. This was going to take forever.

  *****

  The cab ride back from the awards ceremony was miserable. Philip and Yvette were both drunk. Happy drunk, not mean drunk—not yet—but that was almost worse. Almost, except that when Philip was mean drunk, he was more likely to hit people.

  Once they were home, all Ana wanted to do was go to bed. But she knew she couldn’t. Because in four hours she had to sneak out of the house and take a cab to East St. Paul.

  *****

  At 2:27 a.m., it was freezing. Ana shivered as she stood across street from the apartment building on Arch Street. The cab she’d called was waiting for her two blocks over. She’d paid him a good chunk of her getaway cash to stay put while she did this job.

  Ana watched the third-floor corner window. No lights on. What if nothing happened? What if there was never any sign of life inside? Did she still have to put up the banner? How long would she have to wait to be sure . . . ?

  Then she spotted it. The dim glow of a screen shining through the curtains.

  Ana stepped up to the lamppost, feeling in her purse for the banner. Ana took out the banner, taped it up, then stepped back.

  Now she had to wait again. Fifteen more minutes before she could head home and finally go to bed.

  Somewhere around minute seven, she thought she saw a rustle of a curtain on the upper floors of the apartment building across from her. Then the rustle was gone.

  At the fifteen-minute mark, Ana removed the banner and walked the two blocks back to her cab.

  For some reason, she felt let down and more than a little silly. She sat back in the cab’s seat, yawning. For the millionth time she wondered if this could really be real. And then she realized she could actually check. She took out her phone and typed in the website’s URL. For a minute, nothing happened, and Ana was sure she’d just stood outside in the middle of East St. Paul at 3:00 a.m. for nothing.

  But then the typing appeared:

  TASK 1 COMPLETE.

  CHAPTER 6

  Ana was wide wake by six the next morning. Who needed more than three hours of sleep when there was a contest to win? She checked the website on her phone as she got dressed for school.

  TASK 2

  You will receive an email with an attached document. Print the document and take it to Cleveland High School at 1:10 p.m. Find locker 4277 in the west wing of the building. The combination is 42-01-25. Place the document in the locker without being seen.

  Cleveland High School. That was in East St. Paul. She’d have to duck out of fifth period study hall and bus over during the lunch hour. And to do what, exactly?

  Sure enough, Ana’s inbox held another message from the Benefactor. She booted up her laptop and printer so she could print out the attachment. It looked like some kind of answer key . . . the top of the page said “Computer Science, Test 1.” Was she about to help someone cheat on a test? That seemed a little shadier than hoisting that banner. But as long as she didn’t get caught, it would be worth it.

  *****

  Ana stood outside the front doors of Cleveland High, gripping her purse. Locker four-two-seven-seven, she chanted in her head. Combination forty-two oh-one twenty-five. Best to have it memorized so she could work fast.

  She was about ten minutes early and didn’t want to go inside yet. Her plan was to wait for a bell to ring. Then students would be milling around and she’d be able to blend in.

  Which would have worked perfectly if the liaison officer hadn’t spotted her through the glass doors.

  He came out, one hand on his holster, and one opening the doors. “What are you doing out here?”

  Ana was stuck. She hadn’t realized there’d be a police officer at this school. She’d been at rich, safe Kenwood too long.

  The man looked her up and down. Finally, she said, “I left my phone in my car. I just came out to grab it.”

  “So you just had to sneak out of class and come get it, huh?”

  Ana cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. I . . . My boyfriend goes to a different school and he texts me around now, so . . .”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She added quickly, “I just moved here. In my other school we could come and go during lunch period. I didn’t know that wasn’t allowed here. Sorry.”

  The guard looked her up and down. Probably checking for anything dangerous. Ana had seen this routine at other schools, before she lived with the Davenports. “All right, come on in and get back to class. I won’t tell—but don’t make this a habit.”

  Sweat dripped down Ana’s back as she nodded. And just then the bell rang.

  “
Thank you so much!” she said to the guard. Then she hurried down the hall against a sea of students, scouting locker numbers as she went.

  She was in the 3000s . . . now the 4000s . . . Another bell rang. The hallway was clearing out fast. Coming up on the 4200s . . .

  A petite Asian girl with a long ponytail swung away from locker 4277 and rushed off down the hall. Ana kept walking, into the 4300s, until the hallway was completely empty. Another bell sounded: the final bell for the start of the next period. Ana doubled back to 4277.

  Forty-two oh-one-five. It took her a couple of tries because her hands were a little unsteady. But finally it worked. Ana opened up the locker. She immediately spotted the photo on the inside of the door, held in place by four small magnets. A good-looking family with lots of kids, standing outside a tiny house. Ana recognized the tallest girl as the owner of the locker. Everyone in the picture was laughing.

  A pang of jealousy shot through Ana. They really did look happy. What would it be like to have two parents who loved each other, like these seemed to? What would it be like to have so many siblings, everyone looking out for each other?

  But the photo was only the first thing Ana noticed. The second thing she noticed was the bug.

  It was one of the magnets. It was the same shape, size, and color as the others. But there was a tiny hole in the center, for the camera. Ana only recognized it because she’d done so much research on spy gadgets.

  Ana’s chest tightened. The Benefactor was watching this girl.

  And right now, the Benefactor was probably watching her.

  Then do the task. Just do the task and get out of here. Don’t look into the camera. She wasn’t sure why, but she had a hunch the Benefactor wouldn’t want her to know she’d spotted the bug.

  Reaching into her purse, she whipped out the answer key she’d printed this morning. She slipped it between two copies of what looked like the school newspaper. As quietly as possible, she closed the locker. And let out a sigh of relief, knowing the camera couldn’t see her anymore.

  Now she just had to get out of the building without making that officer suspicious. She could say it was an emergency—a family emergency. That wasn’t so far from the truth.

  CHAPTER 7

  Ana made it to her own school, Kenwood, just in time for sixth period. She couldn’t afford to miss chemistry. Mr. McGuire was an old friend of Philip’s. He’d notice—and tell the Davenports—if she wasn’t in class.

  Ana’s sort-of friend Emma was waiting outside her locker. They usually walked to chemistry together, mostly because they both hated the class. They were also on the tennis team together and bonded over being the worst players. Ana could complain to Emma about anything that wasn’t a real problem.

  “Hey,” said Emma as Ana rushed up, out of breath. “Where are you coming from?”

  “Oh, guidance counselor. Aptitude test.” She grimaced at Emma, started to open her locker—then paused.

  That hidden camera in locker 4277 had made her edgy. What if there was one in her locker too?

  If there was, she should probably find out now. Plus she needed her chemistry book.

  She opened the locker and tried not to look as if she was casing it for bugs. She kept her face blankly casual, like when she was with her foster parents around other people.

  There were no photos on the inside of her locker—no decorations at all. She kept everything tidy and impersonal. So if I were going to plant a bug here, where would I put it?

  “Huh, where’d I put my chem book . . . ?” She knew exactly where it was, but she rifled through her books and notebooks anyway, checking behind them and feeling under them. Empty wall, flat shelf surface . . .

  “Hurry up, we’re gonna be late,” said Emma, glancing into the locker. “It’s right there, on the far left.”

  “Oh, thanks!” Ana bit back a sigh and grabbed the book. The rest of her sweep for bugs would have to wait.

  *****

  By the end of the school day Ana had decided she’d been overreacting. Sure, putting hidden cameras in a student’s locker—or anywhere else—was illegal. And invasive. And pretty creepy. But it made sense as part of this contest. The Benefactor had to know if the contestants were really doing their tasks. So he or she was probably monitoring all the contestants. The girl from locker 4277 must be one of the other people competing for the prize.

  And if the Benefactor’s bugs made it clear that Ana was in the lead, she’d live with it.

  Because she was in the lead, according to the Contest website’s chart. And now it was time for the next task.

  TASK 3

  You will receive a flash drive in the mail. Go back to 4501 Arch Street. Gain entrance by any means necessary. Place the flash drive in one of the shoes sitting on the outside of apartment 132.

  That afternoon, Ana took a bus to the same apartment building she’d staked out for her first task. But it looked much different in the daylight. Much shabbier. She tried to figure out how big the apartments were just looking at the outside. It seemed safe to say that her sitting area was probably half the size of an entire apartment here.

  She felt in her pocket for her lock picking kit. She’d only tried it at her house but had gotten pretty good. Now she would have some real experience. Assuming this building used a traditional lock entrance and not a key card entry.

  At the front door, Ana breathed a sigh of relief. Regular lock. Showtime. She reached in her pocket to get the lock picking kit and checked to make sure no one was looking.

  All clear.

  Picking a lock was like breaking a code. You started with a basic knowledge of how locks worked. They all had a gap between the inner cylinder and the outer cylinder. All you had to do was use the right lock pick to find that gap. Then angle it just right, and everything would fall into place.

  It took her a few tries, but it worked. She was in.

  The nook in her bedroom was bigger than this lobby. Ana spotted the row of mailboxes along the wall. She checked the mailbox for apartment 132 and saw the name “Trudeleau.” Whoever this Trudeleau person was, he would be finding a flash drive soon.

  Ana took the stairs, found the apartment right away, and dropped the flash drive in one of the tired-looking shoes outside the door. This meant she’d earned $2 million within the past six hours. Not a bad day’s work.

  She just hoped she could keep it up.

  CHAPTER 8

  Another package was waiting for Ana on the front steps of her house. A chill ran through her. Someone was actually coming up to her door and leaving things. That was super creepy. Even creepier than the bugging.

  In her room, Ana checked the Contest’s website. Her next task seemed just a tad harder than the others. And way less legal.

  TASK 4

  You will receive a device in the mail. Go to Nicollet Mall in downtown Minneapolis. Find the SolarStar offices. There, plant the device under the desk of the deputy director, Len Steinberg. Place it directly under the desk where the phone sits.

  Ana opened the package. Inside was the “device” the instructions mentioned. It was clearly a bug. Not as cleverly disguised as the bug in locker 4277, but way smaller and way more tech-y than anything Ana had bought. It looked serious. Whoever this Benefactor guy was, he knew what he was doing.

  But what exactly was he doing? It was like Ana was getting a message in code, but she only knew a couple of the key words. Who was James? What was SolarStar? And why was the Benefactor using her to get to them?

  Ana opened a new browser tab on her laptop and typed “SolarStar” into the search bar.

  Aha: they had a website.

  The page sported a clean, bright look with a top photo of fields of green under a blue sky. Ana clicked on the “About” link.

  SolarStar is a 501(3)(c) business dedicated to building a better world through Earth-friendly products and services . . .

  . . . partner closely with environmental groups to harness solar power and other green energy sources .
. .

  . . . finance and create cutting-edge technologies . . .

  So they were an environmental group. Or, no—they worked with environmental groups. To invent things. What would the Benefactor need from them? A solar-powered bike?

  She thought about sending an email to Mr. Steinberg but then stopped herself. What if the Benefactor was watching? If he’d bugged contestants’ lockers, what else was he tracking? Laptops? Phones? Rooms in their houses? That seemed like a stretch, but—so did everything else about this contest. The Benefactor didn’t seem too concerned about breaking and entering, if Ana’s tasks were anything to go by. It seemed very likely that he was monitoring her.

  She could try to check for bugs. But the Benefactor probably wouldn’t like that. She had a feeling that she wasn’t supposed to know more than what the Benefactor had told her.

  And since the Benefactor hadn’t told her anything about SolarStar . . .

  . . . She’d have to find out about it without letting the Benefactor know what she was up to.

  Somehow.

  Ana sat up straight with an idea. The Benefactor clearly hadn’t bugged the SolarStar office yet, or he wouldn’t be sending her to plant this listening device. And she had a listening device of her own.

  She could leave her recorder pen in the office along with the Benefactor’s bug. The Benefactor wouldn’t know. And that way, whatever the Benefactor was listening to, she’d hear it too. Then maybe she could figure out what this was all about. Or at least try to figure out just what SolarStar was, and why somebody would have a teenage girl bug their office. Tomorrow after school, she’d start her investigation. The Benefactor wasn’t the only one who could be sneaky.

  CHAPTER 9

  At 4:20 the next day, Ana stood on Nicollet Mall and looked up at the huge, high building in front of her. She took a deep breath and fingered the Benfactor’s listening device in one of her skirt pockets. The other pocket held her audio recording pen. She’d swiped it from Izzy’s room and left the camera pen in its place. The recorder pen was sound-activated and, like her camera pen, had ten hours of battery life. She hoped in those ten hours she’d find something out about the Benefactor, or at least about SolarStar.