Read Partners in Crime (9780545463119) Online
Authors: Kim Harrington
The
pink notebook that Fiona kept with her all the time, that she scribbled in when she should have been paying attention to teachers, that Darcy was convinced contained all the secrets of the popular crowd, wasn't actually a notebook after all.
It was a sketchbook.
I stepped closer and watched as Darcy flipped through page after page of sketches. Shirts, skirts, and beautiful dresses. Some in color, some only pencil sketches.
“Did you draw these?” I asked.
Fiona snatched the book back and closed it. “Yes.”
“Why didn't you want us to see that?” Darcy said. “I mean ⦠it's good.”
“You really think so?” Fiona asked, clutching the book to her chest.
Darcy shrugged. “Well, you should use fewer happy colors and more black, but yeah.”
“Those are your own designs?” I asked.
Fiona nodded quickly. “Yeah. But don't tell anyone about it.”
“Why not?” Darcy said. “There's great stuff in there.”
“I don't know.” Fiona stuffed the book back into her backpack. Then she turned to us. “I'd like to go to design school someday. Get into fashion. But I don't want anyone to know about it ⦠in case I don't get in.”
Hold up
. Fiona Fanning â the most popular girl in our school â who had the looks, the clothes, the friends, the confidence ⦠was afraid of failure.
I needed to sit down.
I slumped into a beanbag chair while Fiona and Darcy stayed standing.
“It's like one of those lifelong dreams,” Fiona explained, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “And I really want it to come true. But I'm scared that if I tell people, it will jinx it or something. Or that if I
tell everyone and then I don't end up going to fashion school, it'll make the disappointment even worse.”
Welcome to my nightmares, Fiona. Only substitute MIT for fashion school. Or Zane Munro liking me. Both cause equal anxiety.
“We won't tell anyone,” I said, and Darcy nodded in agreement.
I had to admit, between Fiona needing our help and us seeing this other side of her, I was actually starting to like her a bit. We had as much in common as Jupiter and a pizza, but still. She was growing on me.
A pop song started coming from the backpacks on the bed.
“Oh, that's mine.” Fiona unzipped the front pouch of her bag and pulled out a cell phone.
Seriously ⦠was I the only girl in my grade without her own phone?
Fiona checked the screen to see who was calling. She giggled, then pressed a button to mute the music. “I'll call him back later,” she explained.
“Who?” Darcy asked, taking a peek over Fiona's shoulder.
“Oh, it's just Slade,” Fiona said. “He probably wanted to pick a day for our movie thing.”
“Wait,” Darcy said. “Slade Durkin? You're going on a date with Slade Durkin?”
Fiona slid her phone back into her bag. “We're going to meet at the movies sometime, that's all. It's no biggie.”
Darcy looked so disgusted, it was as if Fiona told her she was planning to eat a bowl of live bugs for dinner. “What could you possibly see in him?” Darcy said.
Fiona examined her manicure. “Oh, I don't know. Maybe that he's popular. And the best in sports. And he's the tallest kid in our class and kind of cute.”
“I think I'm going to throw up,” Darcy said, clutching her stomach.
I tried to be a little less dramatic. “Fiona, he's kind of a ⦠bully.”
“What?” Fiona's eyes widened. “No, he's not. He's just a jokester.”
I couldn't believe she didn't realize how much of a jerk Slade was. Yeah, he was never mean to
her
, but she had to have noticed how he treated the unpopular
kids. I said, “You saw him hit Darcy in the face with a volleyball in gym.”
“That was an accident,” Fiona said.
“No, it wasn't.” Darcy's voice was serious.
I nodded. “He told Darcy, âThat's for Hunter,' after he did it.”
Fiona opened her mouth wide. “Well, um,” she stuttered. “People are loyal to their friends. Darcy probably did something bad to Hunter and deserved it.” After a quick look at Darcy's enraged face, she added, “No offense.”
Though she needed no help from me, I felt the need to jump to Darcy's defense. “Darcy only did what she did because Hunter was torturing Zane.”
“Yes,” Darcy said teasingly. “Norah's true love.”
“Darcy!” I snapped. I could feel my face getting all hot and red. I didn't need Fiona gossiping to everyone that I liked Zane. I turned to Fiona. “That's not true.”
Thankfully, Fiona's phone started ringing again. I didn't care if it was Slade asking for her hand in marriage. Anything to get the conversation off Zane was fine with me.
“Hey, Mom,” Fiona said. “I'm at Norah's.” Pause. “Yes, the girl you met the other day.” Pause. “I was
just planning on walking â” Fiona rolled her eyes. “Fine!”
She stood and started repacking her things into her backpack. “Sorry to cut this short, but my mom's coming to pick me up.”
“Remember to search your house for more clues about Bailey,” Darcy said.
“I will,” Fiona promised, heading out my bedroom door.
I could only hope she'd
forget
what she might have heard about me liking Zane Munro.
The
next morning, Darcy and I headed to our lockers together. I kept an eye out for Fiona, in case she might have any updates about what she'd found in her house.
The hallway was thick with kids, and everyone was walking so slowly. Like if we moved like snails, it would postpone the school day.
Darcy and I finally got to our lockers. I reached out to start the combination on my lock ⦠and froze.
“Um,” I said, pointing. My locker door was half open.
“Did you forget to lock it when we left school yesterday?” Darcy asked.
I shook my head. My locker locks automatically when you close it, and I'd never once forgotten to close it all the way. I ran my finger down some scratches on the edge of the door. I'd never noticed those before.
“Norah,” Darcy said worriedly, “it kind of looks like someone broke into your locker with a crowbar.”
Dread churned in my stomach. Who would want to break into my locker? And why? I never left anything valuable in there. I'd brought most of my books home last night. Only two were left behind, and who'd want to steal those?
Or maybe ⦠did Hunter or Slade leave something gross inside?
My hand trembled as I opened the door all the way. My two books were right as I'd left them in a neat pile. But on top of them was a folded piece of paper.
I pulled it out and looked at Darcy. Her eyes were wide. “Open it,” she said.
I licked my lips nervously. My mouth felt so dry. I unfolded the paper. The words were typed, in a large font that took up the whole page.
Â
NORAH & DARCY
BACK OFF THE CASE
Â
The
bell rang and the crowd all rushed inside their classrooms like a herd of animals heading for the stable. Darcy and I silently joined the stampede. A wave of nausea swept over me. Even Darcy seemed shaken. Her face was paler than usual and she was strangely quiet. We didn't speak until we slid into our desks at the start of first period.
“I can't believe that message,” I said.
“It was more than a message,” Darcy whispered back. “It was a threat.”
“Who would've written that?” I asked.
Darcy slowly shook her head. “Someone who knows the truth and doesn't want us to find it.”
Who could possibly know? I looked around the classroom. Was it someone in here? We had no evidence to tie to anyone. We couldn't compare handwriting samples because the note was typed.
The more I thought about the message, though, I felt angry rather than nervous. Who did this person think he or she was? Demanding that we back off. We were only trying to help someone. Someone who'd
asked
for our help. The nerve!
Mrs. Feldman walked to the front of the classroom and started writing on the board. Class was going to start any moment. I opened my textbook and clicked my pen.
“Well, we know one thing for sure,” Darcy whispered, pulling out her notebook. “Someone doesn't want us to investigate anymore.”
“But their plan is backfiring.” I looked at Darcy with determination. “Because now I want to get to the bottom of this even more.”
In
the hallway, on the way to second period, I found Fiona. She had her hair up and she fiddled with one of her long, dangly silver earrings as I approached.
“We need to meet again after school,” I said in a low voice. “There have been ⦠developments.”
Fiona's face fell. “I have cheering practice after school.”
Oh, man. We'd have to meet during the day, then. I thought for a moment. “We all have library fifth period, right?”
Fiona nodded with excitement. “Yeah. We can âcoincidentally' need to use the bathroom at the same time and have a short meeting in there.”
I was surprised by Fiona's quick thinking. Maybe
she was sharper than I'd given her credit for. “See you there,” I said and rushed off to my next class.
I filled Darcy in on our secret bathroom meeting plan over lunch. Fiona was acting her usual confident, giggly self over at the popular table. Now I understood that it was a good thing we didn't wave or acknowledge each other. Someone could be watching. Maybe the person who wrote that message.
I gave everyone second glances in fourth period â Hunter, Slade, Maya, even the teachers. I had to know â¦. Who wrote that message? And why did they so badly want us to stop investigating?
In library, Darcy and I sat at our usual round table. Fiona was at a different table a few bookcases away. She nodded at me. I cleared my throat. It was time.
Darcy stood first and quietly asked the librarian to be excused. A minute later, I asked. Mrs. Wixted, the librarian, didn't even raise an eyebrow. I wasn't known to waste precious study time, so she didn't figure I was lying. I gave Fiona one last glance as I left.
I'd only gotten halfway down the hall when Fiona trotted up next to me, her ponytail swinging from side to side.
“Any problem getting excused?” I whispered.
“No way,” Fiona answered. “Mrs. Wixted would never think I'm leaving to hang with you two.”
Insulting? Yes. But true? Yes.
I pushed open the heavy bathroom door and we silently entered. Darcy was bent over, looking under the stalls.
“The coast is clear,” she said, straightening. She was chewing a giant wad of gum and blew a big purple bubble. It snapped and she pulled it back into her mouth.
I could use a little sugar, I thought. We weren't supposed to chew gum during class, but this was in the bathroom. I said, “Can I have a piece of gum?”
Unfortunately, Fiona asked at the exact same time.
Darcy pulled the package out of the pocket of her black hoodie. “I only have one piece left.” She looked at both Fiona and me. “Okay, whoever gets closest. I'm thinking of a number between one and ten.”
“Four!” Fiona screamed.
I hadn't even gotten a chance to
think
of a number yet.
“Wow, that was a fast response,” Darcy said.
Fiona smiled. “My parents always say four is our
lucky number. And I was born on April fourth. Get it ⦠four, four.”
“Yeah, we get it,” I said. “I'll choose seven.”
Darcy tossed the last piece of gum to Fiona. “Lucky again. Sorry, Norah. My number was three.”
Whatever. It was only gum. “Let's stop wasting time,” I whispered. “We only have a few minutes in here until Mrs. Wixted starts to get suspicious.”
Darcy opened her investigation notebook and jotted something down. What she could be writing about, I had no idea. Our little meeting hadn't even started yet. We walked past the two sinks and four stalls until we came to the far wall. We huddled around the window that was farthest from the door, in case of eavesdroppers.
“Did you search through your parents' stuff?” I asked Fiona.
She plopped the gum into her mouth and started chewing. “No, they never gave me the chance. They didn't leave me alone all night. Or even this morning.”
Darcy and I sighed with disappointment.
“But I'm going to try again tonight,” Fiona said. “Even if I have to wait until they go to bed.”
“Good,” I said, nodding.
Fiona snapped her gum. “So what's up with this emergency meeting?”
“I got a note in my locker,” I explained. “It said: âNorah and Darcy. Back off the case.'”
Fiona's eyebrows drew together. “That's kind of creepy.”
“Really creepy,” Darcy said. “But we're not scared. This person tells us to stop, but that only emboldens us further!”
Only Darcy would use a word like
emboldens.
She held her fist out and I bumped it.
“Who do you think left the message?” Fiona asked.
Footsteps sounded from the hallway and we each held our breath. The footsteps stopped and then we heard the sound of a door opening.
But no one came in.
“The boys' room,” I said. We all sighed in relief.
But, still, we had to hurry. If we stayed in the bathroom much longer, chances were someone would come in. Plus, Mrs. Wixted might start to suspect something was going on.
“Well,” I said in a low voice. “Who else could know about the investigation? Who did you tell?”
“I didn't tell anyone!” Fiona swore, putting a hand to her chest. “You guys know how secretive this whole thing is to me. That's why I e-mailed you anonymously. Why I won't be seen with you guys during the school day. I don't want anyone to know. I haven't told a soul.” Fiona turned to Darcy. “What about you?”
Darcy snickered. “My only friend is in this room. Who else
could
I tell?”
Fiona looked at me. “And you didn't tell anyone either?”
I started to shake my head no, but then Darcy said, “What about Zane?”
“What? Zane? No. He wouldn't.” I stumbled over the words.
Fiona crossed her arms. “Zane Munro? What does he have to do with this? What did you tell him?”
“Nothing, nothing,” I stammered. “He, uh, helped us get some information once. So he probably knows we're looking into something.” Though I had slipped up and mentioned the word
case
to him when he gave me the Student Council papers. But he hadn't noticed it, right? I gulped and continued, “But he has no idea it's for you. And I don't know why he'd want us to back off. I mean, he helped us.” I eyed
Darcy. “Come on, you know Zane didn't leave that message.”
Darcy looked skeptical. “The thing is ⦠he's the only other person at this school who knows we're up to something.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn't try to scare us,” I insisted.
“Do you know for sure?” Fiona asked.
Huh
. I'd thought there was a chance Zane liked me ⦠and then I saw him walking Maya home. Maybe I was wrong about this, too. “I guess it's possible,” I admitted.
Darcy glanced at the clock. “We have to head back to the library. Next steps: Fiona, find clues at your house. Norah, find out what's up with Zane.”