Partners in Crime (9780545463119) (4 page)

BOOK: Partners in Crime (9780545463119)
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All
Darcy needed, according to the school nurse, was five minutes with an ice pack. So I sat next to my BFF on the vinyl couch in the nurse's office and tried not to think about how many kids had probably barfed in there.

I tried to focus on poor Darcy. She sat scowling with an ice pack on her nose. “I'd better not swell up,” she groaned.

“Let me see,” I said.

Darcy pulled the bag away. Her skin was a little puffy around her nose and it was bright red, but that would fade soon. It didn't look like she would be left with a bruise.

“It looks fine,” I said, trying to soothe her.

Darcy squeezed the ice pack between her hands, and I had the feeling she was imagining it was Slade Durkin's neck. “Slade did that on purpose.”

“I know,” I said.

Darcy gazed up at me, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe
he's
the one who sent us the e-mails.”

It was starting to seem like Darcy pointed the finger at whoever she was most angry with at that moment.

Probably seeing the doubt on my face, Darcy added, “You heard what he whispered. He did that for Hunter, his best friend. And, while Hunter probably isn't smart enough to think of a revenge plan like using our website, Slade
would
think of that. He's more … diabolical.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jeez, Darcy, he's not a demon.”

“Still,” she continued, “think about it. Hunter and Slade. It could be them. Working together. Trying to get us to run around and solve a case that doesn't exist. It's just something they made up.”

“Well, there's only one way to find out,” I said. “Let's continue with our plan and figure out if anyone in our class has April fourth as their birthday.”

“And if they don't?”

“Then … maybe you're right and it was only a joke.”

I really hoped that wasn't the case. Not because I was scared of Slade or Hunter making fun of us for believing a fake e-mail. But because I didn't want all this excitement to be for nothing. Just the idea of that depressed me.

Darcy was feeling better, so we left the nurse's office. It was right next to the principal's office, so we waved to the school secretary and told her we were heading back to class. We were halfway down the empty hallway when I stopped Darcy in her tracks.

“Okay,” I whispered. “We can't wait until after school to talk about this. We have to strategize now.”

I heard a sound, like a shoe scuffing on the floor. We both looked back and forth, but the hallway was still empty.

“Maybe we should split the class list in two,” I said. “I take half, you take half. And, over the course of the week, we ask every person what their birthday is and write it down.”

Darcy grimaced. “Doesn't that seem kind of … weird? I mean, some of them are going to want to know why.”

I rubbed my arm. “You're right. We need a cover story. But what reason could we possibly have for needing a list of everyone's birthdays?”

The noise came again, shoes shuffling on the floor. And then the door to the boys' bathroom opened and Zane stepped out.

He smiled. “I can help.”

I suddenly forgot how to speak.

Fortunately, Zane didn't have the same effect on Darcy. She snapped, “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

“Not on purpose,” Zane said. A little blush colored his cheeks. “I was in the bathroom and you guys were just, like, talking right outside of it.”

“So you
were
listening to us,” Darcy retorted.

I thought back over everything we'd said. Zane couldn't have heard anything
too
bad. Only that we needed our classmates' birthdays. Nothing about the missing twin. Finally, my throat loosened up and I could speak. “Stop giving him a hard time, Darcy. He offered to help.”

As if suddenly remembering those were Zane's first words after stepping into the hallway, Darcy's eyes lit up. “How much did you hear?” she asked. “How exactly can you help?”

“Well,” he said, stepping closer to us and lowering his voice, “I heard you two saying you need a list of our classmates' birthdays. And that you didn't want to go around asking one by one. So … I can get that for you.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “How?”

He shifted his weight back and forth. “I'm head of the seventh-grade student council. I can pass out a form and ask everyone to write their name and birth date. I'll tell them it's for a student council project.”

My spirits lifted. What a great idea! They'd all believe that. And Darcy and I wouldn't have to go through the horror of asking each kid and deflecting their questions.

“And you won't tell anyone it's for us?” Darcy asked.

“Of course he won't,” I piped up. Darcy was always so suspicious of people.

But, then again, she'd probably say I was too trusting.

I
made plans to meet Zane after school on Thursday.

I repeat … I made plans to meet ZANE.

Sorry, I just like saying those words.

Anyway, we chose Thursday afternoon so Zane would have a couple of days to get the “student council form” passed around. Zane and I decided to meet after school for the handoff. It was all so intriguing and fun. I felt like an international spy meeting a secret agent.

The school was emptying out, with kids heading toward buses and cars. Darcy and I took the bus together through elementary school. But once we entered seventh grade, we started going here, Danville Middle School, which is only a couple streets away
from our houses. So we don't qualify for the bus anymore. Our moms drop us off in the mornings, but in the afternoons we walk home together.

Except today. I told Darcy I'd meet her back at her house after I got the paper from Zane. Part of me might've even been hoping he'd offer to walk me home. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans as I waited.

Zane came around a corner and smiled when he saw me. My heart was thudding so loudly I wondered if he could hear it.

“Hey, Zane,” I said in what I hoped was a casual voice. Then I added in a whisper, “Did you get it?”

He patted his backpack. “Yep!” His eyes were bright and excited, like he was keyed up for his part in the adventure. “This whole thing is so mysterious. I feel like I should've given you a secret signal.”

I laughed. “Like they do in the movies!”

“Yeah! Like … I'd run my fingers through my hair.”

“But you do that a lot anyway,” I said quickly. The words came out before I could stop them, and my eyes widened. Now he'd know that I'd noticed that he often ran his hands through his hair. He'd think I stared at him all day long! Ah! Ah!

Before I could go into full panic-attack mode, Zane
said, “Good point. The signal should be something I don't normally do, so I can't do it by accident.”

“Yeah,” I said, hoping I wasn't blushing too much. “How about you just rub your right ear?”

“Like this?” He brought his hand up to his ear and wiggled it a bit.

“Sure. That will work.”

“Okay, then. That's our secret signal.” He pointed at the exit. “Shall we?”

We started walking side by side in front of the school. The sun was out and its rays felt warm on my face. The identity of our mystery client was in Zane's backpack. And I was out here walking with him. Was he going to walk me all the way home? Could this day get any better?!

“Well,” he said, stopping. He slid a bunch of folded-up papers out of his bag and handed them to me. “This has been fun.”

I took the papers and smiled. “Thanks for your help on the case—um, I mean … thanks for … everything.”

Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice my slipup. “No problem. But I've got to go. Someone's waiting for me.” He aimed a thumb over his shoulder.

Oh
, I thought with some disappointment. Was his mom picking him up?

I looked at where he was pointing, but it wasn't his mom standing there.

It was Maya Doshi.
They
were walking home together.

 

I
let myself into Darcy's house and trudged up the stairs toward her room. Zane had been so nice and helpful. I'd really wanted him to have a crush on me. Though from the looks of it, he liked Maya. But I didn't want to think about that, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. We had more important things to focus on.

I entered Darcy's bedroom, and my eyes immediately went to the dead body on her TV. I seriously didn't know how she watches all those crime shows and then sleeps well at night. Darcy sat cross-legged on her bed, biting her thumbnail, entranced in what the TV detectives were saying. After noticing me, she sat up straight and said, “Did you get it?”

I thought about playing a trick on her and pretending that I didn't, but it was no use. My emotions are always
written all over my face. She'd know I was acting. So I unzipped my bag and pulled the papers out victoriously.

Darcy pumped her arm. “Zane really came through?”

“Yeah, but I haven't looked at it yet. I wanted to wait so we could do it together.”

I kicked off my shoes, sat next to her on the bed, and pulled my legs up. Darcy pressed a button on the remote, shutting the TV off. I unfolded the papers. There were four, so I passed two to Darcy and kept two for myself.

“Let's see who our mystery e-mailer is!” Darcy said.

I couldn't read fast enough. I willed my eyes to take in each line quicker. Of course it didn't help that some of the kids in our class had worse handwriting than Hubble. By the time I reached the bottom of my first page, my hands were shaking with anticipation.

I was halfway down the second page when Darcy groaned. I looked up to see what was wrong.

“Finished,” she said sadly. “No one with that birthday in my stack.”

I tried to swallow, but my throat felt like it was full of sand. What if no one had the birthday? Did that really mean it was all just a joke?

I blinked and returned my eyes to the last few lines. I wanted it over with now. I just wanted to know, one way or the other. My finger trailed down the right side of the paper as I read each line. Then I stopped.

April fourth. There was the right date, written in purple ink. I froze for a moment, unable to breathe, move, even blink. Then, my heart beating wildly, my finger trailed to the left column to search for the name. I gasped.

“What?” Darcy said, inching closer to me. “Did you find something?”

“Yeah.” I gulped. “I know who sent us the e-mail.”

I squinted and reread the line just to be sure. But there it was.

Fiona Fanning.

Was
Fiona Fanning really our mystery client? The question ran through my mind as I tried to sleep that night. And the next morning as I got ready for school. And in the hallway as I hurried to Darcy's locker. Darcy was even more impatient than I was to talk to Fiona. She'd wanted to call her right then and there last night! But I knew this was a conversation we had to have with Fiona face-to-face.

Darcy closed her locker as she saw me coming. She wore her usual attire: black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a dozen black jelly bracelets on her left wrist. If I had to name her fashion style, I'd call it “hip funeral.”

“Can we go over there now?” Darcy nodded toward the other end of the hall. I turned to look.

Fiona was putting on lip gloss in the mirror that hung on the back of her locker door. A small circle of friends surrounded her, chattering away. Fitting, I thought, like the sun at the center of the solar system, with all the other planets orbiting it.

My eyes took in Fiona's outfit. Today she wore a lavender blouse with a short gray skirt, and pink-and-white striped tights. I never would have thought to put those colors and patterns together, but it looked perfect on Fiona.

I glanced down at my jeans and tan sweater and felt so plain. I wish fashion were like math. You'd pick two things and just know they added up and fit into the formula correctly. But clothes aren't like that. If I tried to put together a creative outfit like Fiona's, I'd end up looking like a circus clown.

Yeah, Fiona wasn't smart in the way Darcy and I were. But other stuff, like clothes and boys and being popular, came easy to her. And those things were mysteries to me. I found myself feeling a little jealous.

“Come on,” Darcy said, pulling on the sleeve of my sweater. “Let's go talk to her.”

“Wait,” I said, thinking quickly.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “What? Are you scared?”

Adrenaline
was
rushing through my body. I felt almost hyper, like that time I drank four Cokes at my birthday party. But I wasn't scared. I was excited. We were close to getting some answers. But we also had to have patience. This had to be done the right way.

“No,” I said in a hushed voice. “I just think we need to meet with Fiona alone.”

“Why?” Darcy's tone was impatient. “Let's just go over there. Her friends will probably leave so they don't catch our nerd cooties.”

“They might
not
leave, though,” I said. “Fiona obviously doesn't want the whole world knowing about her sister. She e-mailed us anonymously. So if we confront her right in front of her friends, she'll probably pretend she doesn't know what we're talking about.”

Darcy hesitated, chewing her lip. “Yeah. You're right. We should wait.” She let out a heavy sigh. “How are we going to get her alone, though?”

I'd just been thinking about that. “We could put a note in her locker, telling her to meet us somewhere during lunch.”

“The auditorium's always empty at that time,” Darcy suggested. “We could have her meet us behind the stage.”

I nodded quickly. “Good idea.” I thought for a moment. “The only problem is, what if she doesn't find the note until after lunch?”

A slow smile spread across Darcy's face. “I have a way to make sure she'll get the message right now.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and started a text message.

“How do you have Fiona's number?” I asked.

“I have everyone's number,” she said matter-of-factly.

I could've asked how, but I had a feeling this was one of those “I don't want to know” things.

A minute later, Darcy looked back up. “Done!”

I risked a glance over my shoulder, but Fiona and her friends were gone. “I wonder if she'll come.”

“Oh, she'll come. I made sure of that.” Darcy slipped her phone to me so I could read the sent message.

Fiona —

Meet me backstage during lunch. Come alone.

— Bailey

BOOK: Partners in Crime (9780545463119)
10.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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