“Never mind my nooks and crannies,” Riley said.
“Understood,” Emerson said. “I’ll get to your nooks and crannies later. How about if, for now, I practice on the flat of your back?”
Riley rolled up her shirt, giving Emerson access to her lower back.
Five minutes later, Emerson stood up, capped the pen with a dramatic flourish, and surveyed his work. “It’s quite good, actually. You may want to consider making it permanent.”
Vernon and Wayan Bagus came over to look.
“What do you think?” Riley asked. “Does it look like two crossed sabers with a number one above them? Do you think it will fool the guards?”
“It is most unlikely this tattoo will fool the guards,” Wayan Bagus said.
“Too big?” Riley asked.
Wayan Bagus nodded. “Yes, that’s it. It’s too big.”
“It’s nice,” Vernon said. “I like it. It’s a real conversation starter.”
Riley twisted and turned, trying to see her back. “What the heck is this?” she asked. “It doesn’t look like the Rough Rider tattoo.”
“It’s far superior,” Emerson said. “It’s an octopus smoking a cigar. And I’ve even signed it. Now that I’ve mastered more complex forms, I’m certain I can produce an excellent version of the Rough Rider image on your wrist.”
“I need a moment,” Riley said.
“To enjoy my work?” Emerson asked.
“To stifle the urge to choke you.”
“Is it the cigar? It was a last-minute decision.”
“It’s temporary, right?”
“?‘Temporary’ is a relative term,” Emerson said. “It should fade away in no more than two to three weeks.”
Riley decided if after two to three weeks she was still alive and not locked away in a dungeon, she’d be so overjoyed that she wouldn’t care about an octopus smoking a cigar on her back.
“I suppose you’re now going to violate my hand,” she said to Emerson.
Emerson nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
Ten minutes later, Emerson was done with the tattoos.
“I have to admit, it looks pretty realistic,” Vernon said. “But what now?”
“Riley and I are going to walk up to the guardhouse like we own the place and tell them we caught two trespassers walking in the woods.”
“Vernon and I are going to be the trespassers?” Wayan asked.
“Correct,” Emerson said. “There are four of us and only two of them, so if we can fool them into thinking Riley and I are Rough Riders, even for a couple seconds, we should be able to get close enough to distract and overwhelm them.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in some kind of uniform?” Vernon asked.
“We’re plainclothes Rough Riders,” Emerson said.
Riley followed Emerson out of the brush and onto the Jeep path.
“This is never going to work,” Riley said.