Kelsey the Spy (13 page)

- Chapter 15 -

The Corning Comic

A coincidence, of course.

Becca would never steal from me or leave a ransom note.

But she might know which of our suspects reads
InbeTWEEN
. It's too late to call her so I'll ask her tomorrow at school—if I can get her alone. I should have told my club mates about the ransom note instead of keeping it a secret. With Becca's social savvy and Leo's analytical deductions, we'd have probably found my notebook by now—or at least know who took it.

Will I get it back before secrets are exposed?

The next morning, I find out.

I arrive at school early and am spinning the combo of my locker when I hear, “Kelsey! Kelsey!”

Whirling around, I see Becca pounding down the hall in tiger-striped sneakers, her ponytail flopping behind her like a pink flame in black smoke.

“OMG—the worst has happened!” Becca cries as she comes up beside me, bending slightly to catch her breath.

I tense. “What?”

“One of your secrets has gone viral!”

“
No!
” I stare at her in horror. “How do you know it's one of mine?”

“It's about Sophia and it's really bad.” Becca drops her voice dramatically as she shows me her phone screen. “Check this out.”

I'm afraid to look, but I do.

My breath catches as I recognize the Corning Comic website. The site created by one of our top three suspects.

Secret 23 flashes like a disaster headline across my mind:
Erik Taylor anonymously posts a snarky web comic strip mocking other students under the name “the Corning Comic.”

Becca clicks a link, then shows a photo of Sophia in a lion costume similar to the one Frankie created for her Nala role. The caption reads:
The Lying Queen
.

“OMG!” I reach out to hold myself steady against my locker.

“Sophia must be devastated.” Becca sighs. “I feel awful for her.”

I feel awful too as I read the comic strip, which uses cute drawings to accuse Sophia of having no talent and bribing Perrin Jefferson to get the lead role.

“Is this the secret you had about Sophia?” Becca asks.

What's the point in lying now? The secret is out. So I nod.

“I just can't believe it.” Becca spreads out her hands, and her silver bracelets jangle like a sad song. “Why would Sophia cheat? And how could you know about this and say nothing?”

“It's easier to keep the secret than to hurt a friend.” I sigh. “Sophia is really sweet and never says anything mean about anyone.”

“She didn't have to bribe Perrin—she deserved that role. She's talented with an amazing singing voice. The Corning Comic got that wrong.” Becca taps her phone screen. “I'm worried about her. She's super sensitive and must be devastated. I've texted her but she won't answer.”

“It's all my fault,” I groan. “If I hadn't been so careless and brought my notebook to school, Sophia's secret would still be secret.”

Becca pats my shoulder. “How did you find out about it?”

My face reddens because my answer is almost as humiliating as Sophia's secret. “I was in a school bathroom stall … um … sitting. Sophia came in with Tyla, and they were at the sinks talking about the play. I didn't even mean to eavesdrop—I just have this weird luck when it comes to discovering secrets. Tyla said she was surprised Sophia got the Nala role instead of Sonali Ma—” I pause trying to remember her last name.

“Sonali Malhotra,” Becca tells me. “Gorgeous eighth grader with amazing black hair that goes down past her waist. She usually gets the female lead in our school plays but not this time.”

“Because Sophia got it.” I glance up, then down the hall and whisper, “Sophia told Tyla she wanted to play Nala so much that when Perrin Jefferson—the drama teacher's assistant—bragged that he could influence the drama teacher, Sophia gave him theater tickets so he'd help her get the role.”

“Bribe!” Becca says this so loudly that she claps her hand over her mouth, then lowers her voice. “I never liked Perrin—he acts like he's important and is totally fake. Mrs. Ross seems to trust him but I don't believe he can influence her. She makes her own decisions about acting roles.”

“Sophia got the role of Nala,” I point out with a shrug.

“Why isn't Perrin on our suspect list?” Becca raises her dark brows.

“The secret was about Sophia—although I guess it's his secret too.” I stare off down the hall, not seeing any of the kids hurrying to class, only pages in a stolen notebook. This secret was bad, but others are worse.

“Well, we can cross Sophia off Leo's suspect list,” Becca says. “She wouldn't steal your notebook and then tell everyone her own secret. The Corning Comic is the top suspect—whoever he or she is.”

He's already on the list
.

Erik Taylor, aka the Corning Comic, is looking very, very guilty.

“The Comic must have stolen your notebook to get gossip for his snarky website—and he started with Sophia.” Becca balls her fists like she's ready to do battle to defend a friend. “Who will he target next?”

I frown, imagining Leo's hurt when the whole school finds out his real age. Becca will be embarrassed too, if kids tease about her mom dating the sheriff.

“We have to stop him or her,” Becca adds with a furious twist of her lips. “But the coward hides behind a fake name. No one knows who he is.”

“Actually … I do.” I gnaw on my lip. “His identity is one of my secrets.”

“And you can't tell me.” Becca rolls her eyes. “But now I know it's a he.”

“I shouldn't have said that.”

“Stop it already! I'm tired of your secrets.” Becca covers her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, I didn't mean to lose my temper. I'm just worried about Sophia.”

“I'm worried about her too,” I say softly.

“Then don't protect the Corning Comic. Leo and I need to know who he is if you want us to help find your notebook.”

I glance down at my white sneakers, frowning at a grass stain on my toe.

“Do you want him to post more secrets?” Becca persists.

“Of course not. But if I tell one secret, I might tell another secret, and soon all of the secrets will be out. It's sort of like trying to eat just one french fry.”

“No one can do that,” Becca says with a frustrated look.

“My dilemma exactly. I feel like a superhero forced to make the decision whether to save one person or an entire planet.”

“I swear no planets will be destroyed if you tell me this one secret.” Becca solemnly makes a “cross my heart” gesture. “Who is the Corning Comic?”

I take a deep breath, and as I blow it out, an idea pops into my head. “I'll tell you—after I talk to him.”

“That slimy snake won't talk to you,” Becca says. “And if he does, he'll post all about it and you'll be humiliated like Sophia.”

“But what if I can persuade him to take down the post about Sophia and not post any more secrets?”

“He'll never do it.”

“I have to try. He's usually hanging out at the school basketball court with his buddies. I'll look for him there.”

“Just shout out, ‘Corning Comic!' That will get his attention.”

“Or scare him off.” Dread rises inside me. “He must have been surprised to read my notebook and find out I knew he was the Comic.”

Becca squeezes my hand. “Knowing his real identity is your superpower. Use it wisely.”

“I just want my notebook back,” I say sadly.

“This proves it wasn't stolen by a Sparkler.” Becca looks relieved as we walk away from the lockers. “Leo can cross Sophia and Tyla off the suspect list. That leaves just two: Erik Taylor and the Corning Comic.”

Two names but only one suspect
, I think.

Clues are falling into place. Erik Taylor must have been in the cafeteria yesterday and saw Tyla waving my notebook of secrets. Afterward, he broke into my locker and stole my notebook so he could boost his web hits with dramatic secrets. It would be easy for him to piece together a ransom note—a yearbook photographer probably had lots of magazines lying around.

But some things still puzzle me. Why would Erik send me to D-Lite Donuts, then not leave the notebook? And how did Bobbsey get in the shed? Was finding him a coincidence or did Erik do that too?

When Becca's phone dings, she jumps excitedly. “Sophia!” But after checking her phone, she sighs. “Just Leo.”

Becca says Leo is in the drama supply room with Frankie. So we go there.

The auditorium is semi-dark and silent as we walk through aisles. Soft thuds from our sneakers are the only sounds as we walk up a short staircase and cross the stage to the backstage door.

A blend of unusual smells of fabric, oils, and dust fill the storage room where costumes, sets, and unusual props like a metallic giraffe are crammed together. I hear voices and wind through a passage bordered in boxes, cabinets, and a rolling cart with hanging clothes from the Victorian era.

I hear the boys before I see them and follow their voices to the “office” where Frankie has papers and mechanical parts strewn across his desk of a plywood sheet over boxes.

Leo sets down a screwdriver as he comes over to meet us. “What have you discovered?”

“Not here,” I say with a tilt of my head toward Frankie, who is watching us from his desk. The blue streak in his dark hair waves across his forehead, and his eyes are shadowed by his green cap.

“You can talk in front of Frankie,” Leo assures us. “He knows a lot about what goes on at school and can be a great help.”

“This doesn't concern him,” I say.

“Does it have something to do with the Corning Comic?” Frankie guesses, unfolding tall and lanky like a marionette come to life. He gives us a friendly smile, but there's something guarded in his expression.

“What do you know about the Comic?” I ask.

Frankie frowns. “I saw the cartoon this morning, and it sucks for Sophia. Sure, she bosses me around like the other drama kids do, but she always thanks me or sometimes just comes in to talk. I feel bad for her.”

“What cartoon?” Leo wrinkles his brow.

“Here.” Becca holds out her phone.

“No one knows who the Corning Comic is,” Frankie adds, untwisting a tangle of wires. “It's the biggest mystery at school.”

Becca raises her brows at me, but I ignore her as I turn to Frankie. “Leo says you know stuff that goes on with the drama group. Did you know Sophia bribed Perrin for the role of Nala?”

“No, and I know it isn't true. She got the role because of her talent.” Leo stands taller than all of us and is so skinny that his loose black clothes hang on him.

“Are you sure?” I ask, confused. “I heard Sonali should have gotten the role.”

“Sonali tried out for another role.” Frankie's green hat flops as he shakes his head. “I was there for the auditions. After Sophia auditioned, Mrs. Ross stood up and applauded and said that Sophia was perfect for Nala.”

Leo taps his chin thoughtfully. “Was Perrin there too?”

“Yeah.” Frankie nods. “He's always lurking around.”

“Sophia doesn't realize how good she is,” Becca adds with a sad sigh. “Even though she's super talented, she's insecure. And now her secret has gone viral and she'll be devastated. I'm going straight to homeroom and talk to her.”

“Go ahead,” I say with soft sympathy. “I have something to give Leo; then I'll see you in class.”

Becca hurries off, and I tell Frankie I need to talk to Leo alone. Before Leo can object, I tug on his arm and move away behind a giant stuffed penguin.

“Here. For the CCSC treasury.” I hand Leo the fifty-dollar bill. “I found another lost dog.”

“Excellent!” Leo folds the bill precisely in half, then smoothes it neatly with his finger before folding it again. “Where did you find the dog?”

“Behind D-Lite Donuts yesterday after school.”

“But the donut shop is closed in the afternoon.”

“I didn't know that.” I groan. “I'll tell you more at the Skunk Shack.”

I leave the storage room, hurrying for my first class. I'm almost there when I plant my palm to my forehead with a “Duh!” I spent so much time talking to Becca by my locker earlier that I didn't open my locker—and I need my science textbook. So I turn on my heels and race back to my locker.

The warning bell rings just as I'm spinning my locker combo.

The metal door swings open and I stare inside.

What's a wooden block doing in my locker?

- Chapter 16 -

Blocked

The brick-sized wooden block is the wintry-brown color of tree bark, and it looks heavy but is surprisingly light. My fingers leave a trail of prints on the shiny surface. It's smooth to touch, as if there's still life whispering from the wood.