But she didn’t get to finish because Miles launched himself through the air and wrapped his arms around her.
“You’re alive!” he cried, tears suddenly streaming down his face. “You’re alive!”
Logan stumbled backward in surprise. Even Philip jumped up, sending the sleeping bag he’d been sitting on rolling down the path toward the vanilla vines.
“What are you talking about?” Daisy asked as Miles clung to her, weeping, then laughing, then weeping again. He couldn’t answer, due to the weeping and the laughing.
When it became clear he wasn’t letting her go anytime soon, Daisy put her arms around him and hugged him back. This just made him hold on tighter.
“Do you think we should do something?” Philip asked Logan as the minutes passed.
“What should we do?”
“Maybe we should pry him off her.”
Logan nodded. That seemed like a sensible idea.
Miles tried to hold on as Logan and Philip each took one of his arms, but he eventually allowed himself to be separated from Daisy.
“You okay, buddy?” Logan asked.
Miles wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, laughed again, and then said, “I was in that boat. The one Daisy swam under. Only I didn’t see her. All this time I thought the girl—I mean Daisy—had drowned and I hadn’t been able to save her.”
Daisy’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!”
“Is that why you talk about the afterlife all the time?” Philip asked.
Miles nodded. “The girl lives there.” Then he laughed. “No, she doesn’t! No wonder I felt the girl was here at the factory. She WAS here!” Then, before Logan or Philip could stop him, he threw his arms around Daisy again.
This time she hugged him back right away. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think anyone saw me run in. It must have been awful for you.”
Still clutching tight, Miles said, “At least you didn’t get stung by those bees. Being allergic and all.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even see them.”
For some reason, that started Miles laughing and crying all over again.
Philip rolled his eyes. Then he said, “Um, speaking of bees, are there supposed to be bees in here?”
“Paulo brings a few in sometimes to pollinate the vanilla flowers,” Logan replied. “One or two might cling to the vines every once in a while. Why?”
Philip pointed about a foot above Daisy’s head, where a black-and-yellow bee was circling.
“Daisy!” Logan said, pulling on her sleeve. “There’s a bee near you.”
“So?” she said, still comforting Miles. The bee was now about two inches away from her left ear.
“Aren’t you allergic?”
“Oh, right,” Daisy said, untangling herself from Miles. “I keep forgetting. Hazard of the trade when you’re always pretending to be someone else. I sometimes forget my real story.” She stepped forward a few feet, but the bee followed her.
“Can’t you charm it or something?” Philip asked Logan.
Logan shot him a look and tried shooing the bee away. It refused to go. “It must be attracted to your hair,” he told Daisy.
As if to prove Logan’s point, the bee flew right at Daisy’s head at top speed. She shrieked and shuffled backward, her foot catching on a tree root. The others all gasped, but it happened too quickly for them to do anything. She flailed her arms, but it was of no use—she’d lost her balance and was on a collision course with the ground.
So fast that Logan could only half believe he’d seen it happen, Miles ducked, grabbed his backpack, and pushed it right to the spot where, a split second later, Daisy’s head landed.
She lay there panting. The bee was nowhere in sight, perhaps scared off by all the drama.
Miles grinned and said, “Huh. I guess this thing did save your life after all.”
“What’s in there?” Daisy asked, still lying on her back.
“A life jacket. I sort of carry it with me everywhere. It’s crazy, I know.”
But Daisy shook her head. “It shows how much you can care about saving someone you’ve never even met. And now you saved me! I think you’re the superhero here.”
Miles pushed his glasses back up his nose and coughed.
“Better watch out,” Philip teased. “I think she likes you.”
Daisy groaned. “Philip Ransford the Third, do you have any redeeming qualities?”
“Hey,” Logan said, “he did just save the factory. Even if he had to steal to do it.”
“That’s true,” Miles said.
“Yeah, about that…,” Philip began.
“Let me guess,” said Daisy, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “You made up that whole story and were just trying to steal the secret ingredient so you would win the contest.”
“Not exactly.”
“I knew it!” Daisy shouted.
Philip sighed. “Will you let me finish?”
Daisy grumbled something unintelligible.
“I was going to say that taking the secret ingredient might slow my father down, but there’s only one way to make sure he won’t buy the factory.” He paused, pulling nervously at a leaf dangling above his head. Logan tried not to cringe. No one was supposed to pull the leaves.
“Well?” Daisy asked. “What is it?”
“I have to, um, win the contest.”
Daisy hooted. “You’re kidding, right?”
“It’s true,” Philip insisted, looking them each in the eye. “My father promised that if I win, he won’t try to buy the factory.”
No one spoke for a minute. Logan really wanted to believe him. But believing Philip meant that he’d have to give up his own dream of winning. That was a lot to give up based on the word of someone who hadn’t said one nice thing to him until that night.
“But why would your father agree to that?” Miles asked.
“He doesn’t think I could possibly win, so he’s not too worried about losing the bet.”
“Well, then,” Miles said matter-of-factly. “We’ll just have to make sure you win.”
Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. Philip had been the meanest to Miles. Why would Miles believe him so easily?
“Are you serious?” Daisy asked. “You actually believe that story?”
Miles nodded.
“What about your mother?” Daisy demanded of Philip. “What does she think about all this?”
“You’d have to ask Miles about that,” Philip replied. “He’s the expert on the afterlife.”
It took Logan a few seconds to figure out what Philip meant. He’d never met anyone who didn’t have a mother. Well, not that he knew of.
“Oh,” said Daisy, lowering her head. “I didn’t know.”
Philip shrugged. “Why would you?”
“When did it… I mean, when did she…” Daisy trailed off. It was the first time Logan had seen her at a loss for words.
“When I was three,” Philip said. “She got sick. I don’t remember her too well, but I know she liked chocolate a lot. I think she’d be happy I’m here.”
Logan had no clue what to say or do. He considered offering gumdrops but knew that wasn’t right.
Miles must have known just what to do, though, because he walked straight over to Philip and put his arms around him.
Philip stood as stiff as the sapodilla tree next to him, but Miles didn’t let go.
“You might as well hug him back,” Daisy recommended. “He won’t stop until you do.”
So Philip raised his arms and awkwardly placed them on Miles’s shoulders. They stood like that for another minute until Philip broke away. “Uh, thanks,” he said awkwardly. “I think I’m good now.”
Miles gave him one last pat on the arm and then retreated.
Daisy cleared her throat. “So, um, is your candy good enough to win?”
Philip shook his head. “Not yet. Maybe if I had another week.”
Logan knew what he had to do. It
was a choice that two days ago he couldn’t have imagined making.
“Well, what are we standing around here for?” he asked. “We’ve got to get to the lab. You don’t have a week, but you have us. Between the four of us, I’m sure we can come up with something great.” He looked at Daisy and Miles. “If you guys agree, that is.”
“I’m in,” Miles said. “I don’t need to win anymore. You know, due to the whole Daisy-not-being-dead thing.”
Daisy grinned and hit him playfully on the arm.
“Ouch,” Miles said.
“Sorry.”
“What about you, Daisy?” Logan asked.
She nodded. “Just because I failed to plant the soap in the tin doesn’t change anything. I still want to help save the company. It’s a shame, though,” she said wistfully. “My contest entry is really good.”
The three boys looked at one another and starting laughing.
“It’s a green glob of goop!” Miles shouted.
“True,” Daisy admitted. “But it tastes like a summer’s day.”
“Doubt that,” Philip said, sounding for a second like his old self.
“I know you guys like to argue over anything and everything,” Logan said, “but we don’t have much time left.”
“What about you?” Daisy said. “Your grandfather and your father… winning the contest is a family tradition. This is your only chance. Can you really pass it up?”
“I have to,” Logan said, feeling both sad and determined. “I want to be a candymaker, right? Well, it’s time to go make some candy.”
Miles came toward him, arms outstretched, ready to hug. Logan held up one hand. “Seriously, dude, I’m good.”
Everyone laughed. They started down the path toward the door when Miles pointed in the direction of the cinnamon tree. “Um, I think we have company.”
At first Logan thought the young man who stepped out from behind the narrow tree was Avery. Mostly because he hadn’t heard anyone come in, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else being there. But he was wrong. How did everyone get into the factory after closing? He’d have to talk to his dad about beefing up security.
“What are you doing here?” Daisy asked.
Before the guy could answer, Miles turned to Philip. “This is Daisy’s cousin, Bo. He can pull motorcycles with his teeth.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Can’t talk, though. Lost all his teeth from the pulling.”
“I didn’t really lose my teeth,” Bo said, pointing to a mouthful of pearly whites. “See? All there.”
Logan and Miles both jumped back at the sound of his voice.
Bo glared at Daisy. “And my name’s AJ, not Bo. Not a cousin. Just a really annoyed handler.” He thrust Daisy’s pocketbook at her.
“Boy, Daisy!” Miles said, shaking his head. “It’s a good thing I’m still happy you didn’t drown, or I’d be really ticked off at you for all the lies.”
Daisy hung her head sheepishly. “I’ll make it up to you. To all of you, I promise.”
AJ still glared at Daisy, apparently unmoved by her remorse. “From what I’ve overheard, you have compromised not only your mission but our entire organization. We need to leave the premises. Now.”
Daisy reddened. “I didn’t tell them everything.”
AJ scowled. “You were pretty detailed.”
She shook her head. “Not true. Like, I left out the part about me being thirteen.”
AJ groaned and slapped his hand against his forehead.
“What?” Logan, Miles, and Philip shouted in unison.
“You’re thirteen?” Logan looked at Daisy in a whole new light. Thirteen! That was a teenager!
Daisy held up her hands. “Hey, don’t blame me. I just found out myself.”
“You didn’t know your own age?” Miles asked, clearly skeptical.
Daisy shook her head. “Long story.”
“You know you can’t be in the contest now,” Philip said. He didn’t gloat about it, though.
Daisy’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! I guess you’re right. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, since we’re all helping you win now.”
Logan put his hand on her arm. “Maybe AJ’s right. This doesn’t have to be your fight. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Daisy stood up straight. “Daisy Dinkleman never walks away until the job is finished.”
“Dinkleman?” Miles repeated. “I thought your last name was Carpenter.”
“Daisy,” AJ said, gritting his very real teeth. “Please think about this. What am I going to tell your grandmother? She’s at the mansion waiting for our report.”
“Just tell her the truth.”
AJ shook his head. “That’s for you to do, not me. I’ll stall her until after the contest tomorrow, but that’s it. You’re on your own.”
Daisy nodded gratefully. “Thanks, AJ. You’ve been a good handler.” Then she winked. “And a good cousin.”
AJ just grunted.
Philip cleared his throat. “This has been a lovely family moment, but I think we’d better get moving. It’s late already.”
Logan turned to say goodbye to AJ, but there was no sign of him. Just a faint rustling of leaves on the other side of the room.
“Wow,” Miles said, looking around. “He moves fast!”
Daisy nodded. “He always gets the jobs where you have to disappear really fast. Speaking of moving fast, we really do need to get going.”
As they hurried from the Tropical Room, Miles said to Philip, “You know, you kinda look like AJ.”
“You mean because we’re both so incredibly good-looking?”asked Philip, tilting his head and grinning.
Logan groaned.
“Good-looking?” Daisy repeated, pretending to look Philip up and down. “Nah, I don’t see it.”
Philip rolled his eyes.
“You really should get that checked,” Logan said.
CHAPTER THREE
Wait here while I get my candy,” Philip instructed them when they reached the lab. He switched on the lights and ushered them in.
“Isn’t it in the refrigerator with ours?” Miles asked.
“Just wait here,” he repeated. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as Philip had left the room, Daisy turned to Logan. “I know all this must be a big shock. I’d feel terrible if I thought I’d hurt your feelings in any way. I really just want to help.”
Logan nodded. “I know, I believe you. I mean, you’re still the same Daisy… unless, um, Daisy isn’t your real name?”
“It is,” she promised.
“And your last name’s Dinkleman?” asked Miles.
Daisy laughed. “No, not really. That’s sort of a joke.” Then her smile disappeared. “Actually, I don’t know my last name.”
Logan and Miles shared a look.
“What do you mean?” Miles asked.
Daisy sighed. “The spy world is really secretive. Sometimes the less we know about ourselves, the safer we’ll be.”
“But couldn’t you just ask your parents?” Miles asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t see them very often. It’s complicated.”
Logan felt sorry for her then. No matter how cool the gadgets or how fun the adventures, he couldn’t imagine not knowing his own last name or seeing his parents every day.
The three of them were quiet when Philip burst in, his briefcase clutched in one hand, a big plastic container in the other.
“Ready to lay your eyes on the world’s best new candy?” Philip asked, his hands poised over the container.
“We’ve been ready for ten minutes,” Miles replied, drumming his fingers on the one lab table not hidden by the temporary walls.
“If you don’t open it soon,” Daisy said, “I’m going to push for submitting my green glob of goop instead.”
“Anything but that,” Philip said with a shudder. He lifted the lid and held the box out to them.
“Um, what is it?” Logan asked, seeing only a rectangular lump of ch
ocolate lying on a sheet of wax paper.
Miles peered closer. “Is it a chocolate cell phone?”
Philip rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not a chocolate cell phone! It’s so obvious!”
Daisy bounced with excitement. “I know what it is!”
“See?” Philip said. “I told you it was obvious!”
“It’s a brown glob of goop!” she shouted.
Logan and Miles laughed. Philip frowned. He placed the container on the lab table and lifted out the layers one by one. Logan could see milk chocolate, pieces of cookie, marshmallow, and what looked like strips of dried-out honeycomb. He’d seen a lot of candies before—hundreds, if not thousands, of candies in all different stages. The world’s greatest new candy invention this most definitely was not.
“We don’t mean to laugh,” he said to Philip. “But seriously, what is it?”
Philip surveyed the table before him. “Well, I admit it doesn’t look like much.”
“Forget what it looks like,” Daisy said. “How does it taste?” Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed a large piece and shoved it in her mouth.
“That’s not how you’re supposed to eat it,” Philip cried, reaching for it. But it was too late. Daisy was already chomping away.
Logan watched as her expression went from skeptical to surprised and landed on very surprised. She swallowed and grinned. “I’ve gotta admit I wasn’t expecting much. But this is really good! You have a gift! Who’d have thought it?”
Philip glowed under Daisy’s praise. “Really? It’s good?”
She nodded. “It’s great. You really haven’t tried it?”
He shook his head.
In the glare of the bright fluorescent lights, Logan thought he spotted some freckles on Philip’s cheeks that he’d never noticed before. They reminded him of something, but he couldn’t think what.
Miles reached for a chunk of chocolate, but Philip stepped in the way. “Wait, that’s not how it works.”
Miles pulled his hand back. “What do you mean, ‘how it works’?”
Philip pointed to one of the blobs, which looked vaguely rectangular. “It’s a candy harmonica. Or at least it’s supposed to be. It doesn’t quite work yet.”
They all leaned in closer. Daisy shook her head. “Sorry, don’t see it. It tasted good, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t play music.”