The Adventures of Jack Lime (13 page)

“That's right,” Mike said, and then he whipped out a little black book from his back pocket. “So how much can I put you down for?”

“One hundred bucks,” I said, expecting this guy's jaw to hit the ground when he heard a number that big being thrown around.

Instead all I got was a frown. “That's not very much,” he said.

It was very much in my books, but I wasn't going to let a two-bit crook like Mike know that.

“Well, how does two hundred sound, smart guy?” I said.

“Ah,” Mike grimaced. “I guess that's all right for a first-timer.”

“First-timer?” I said, with a chuckle. “Kid, you don't know who you're messing with.” Sure, it might've been my first time dealing with that kind of dough, but I'd laid down a few bets in my time. Why just that past summer, Chuck Smith and I had been laying down quarters on Dodgers' games, so it's not like I didn't know what I was doing. I reminded myself that I was in the driver's seat on this one; after all, I was the only one who had the inside scoop on the whereabouts of Tobias Poe.

“Well, heck, Mike, I was worried that I might break the bank if I started throwing around some big numbers, but I guess you guys are the real deal. So how about we say six hundred clams. How's that tickle your funny bone?”

“You sure you want to put down that much?”

“What's the matter, Mike? Can't handle it?”

“I'll have to check with the boss,” he said, slipping the little black book into his back pocket and pulling out his cell. He dialed, turned away and whispered some mumbo-jumbo into the phone. When he was done squawking to his boss, he handed the phone over.

“Are you Lime?” the big boss asked, in a voice that was deep and threatening. Whoever was on the other end was trying hard to scare me off.

“That's right,” I said.

“Six hundred bucks is a lot of cash. How do I know you're good for it?”

I pulled a wad of dough out of my pocket and counted it quickly. “I've got ninety bucks on me and the rest in the bank.” (FYI — This was a lie. I'd been spending my allowance from the trust account like it was going out of style. I might have had fifty bucks in the bank on top of the ninety in my hand, but he didn't need to know that, and I didn't plan on losing.) “But if you're worried, I'll put up my cell and my iPod. You can use those for collateral if I lose.”

I was trying to rope this yahoo into my bet, and I was expecting him to accept that kind of an offer in good faith. Instead, all I got was the silent treatment, and I'm not a big fan of the silent treatment.

“Well, if that's not good enough, bucko,” I said, a little perturbed by his distinct lack of enthusiasm, “why don't I throw in my laptop and we can jack up the bet? The laptop's worth at least a grand, so how about we say an even twelve hundred, with the iPod and the cell thrown in for good measure?”

“I think you're getting out of your league,” he said.

“You don't know my league, hombre,” I said. “But if you can't handle a twelve-hundred-dollar bet, I'll just have to find a new vendor. Do you know anyone who can handle serious bets?”

There was a long pause on the other end before he mumbled, “Twelve hundred dollars is just fine.”

“Fine,” I said.

“With the laptop, the cell and the iPod as collateral?”

“That's right,” I said.

“Put Mike back on the phone,” the big boss said. I handed the phone over, and Mike did a lot of nodding and frowning. Then he hung up, whipped out his little black book and a silver pen from his pocket, made a few notes and handed it over to me.

“Just sign at the bottom.”

I read the page over. The printing was tiny, but incred-ibly neat. The long and the short of it was that if Iona lost, I was out my laptop, my cell phone and my iPod if I couldn't pay the twelve hundred dollars within twenty-four hours.

I have to admit, I was feeling a little in over my head, but I couldn't back down, so I signed on the dotted line. What else could I do?

Friday, March 13, 3:42 p.m.
13 Oort Cloud Court, The Poe Residence

Standing outside Tobias's shed, with only a few hours until game time, I was feeling the crunch. Twelve hundred smackers was a heck of a lot of cabbage, and I didn't think Dave (the butter-and-egg man who controls my dough back in Cali) would pump that kind of cash into my account without asking some serious questions. But worrying wasn't going to get me anywhere. I needed to take care of business and get Tobias back to Iona High before the trivia questions started flying and Jennifer found herself on center stage without the team ringer. So as soon as school let out, I made my way to Tobias's house, crept around back and hunkered down below the window. For a few seconds, it was dead quiet, and I was sure he'd found a new place to crash, which meant that yours truly was up the proverbial creek without a proverbial paddle. Then the soft clickety-clack of the keyboard started up, and I could practically smell all that money just on the other side of the shed wall. I stood up and threw the window open.

“Don't move,” I yelled.

The poor sap was so surprised he fell backward in his chair, taking the desk down with him. The laptop hit the floor with a crash.

“I said freeze,” I yelled again, starting to hoist myself into the shed, but my orders were falling on deaf ears. Tobias was in panic mode, and there was no stopping him now. He scrambled to his feet and flew out the front door.

I bolted around the side of the shed and spotted him running through the neighbor's garden. I plowed along behind him, getting closer and closer with every step. I have to admit, Tobias was fast for a pinhead, but twelve hundred clams is a great motivator. When he came to a shoulder-high fence about four lawns away, the chase was over. He'd just managed to get to the top when I grabbed one foot and yanked him to the ground.

“Don't make me go! Don't make me go!” he was screaming. I pinned him down and waited until he wore himself out.

“Are you through with the kicking and screaming?” I asked.

“I don't want to go,” he squealed.

“Well, you're going, tough guy, and there's no way around it. You might be book smart, Tobias, but you don't have any idea how the real world works. This is more than just fun and games. There's more to it than that, bucko, a whole lot more. Now, are you going to come along like a man or a mouse?”

“I won't go,” he said, starting to struggle again.

“Tobias, one way or another, you're going back to school and you're going to win Iona that championship banner. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but we're going to do it, capiche?”

The struggling finally stopped and Tobias nodded. In the end he understood just fine.

Friday, March 13, 6:58 p.m.
Iona High, The Auditorium

Tobias resigned himself to his fate and walked into the auditorium without so much as a peep. Of course, Jennifer was thrilled. As soon as Tobias was settled in his seat, she came down and gave me the kind of hug that could melt a Popsicle in a deep freeze. I wish I could say that hug was the beginning of a wonderful evening, but that would be a lie. Not only was Tobias less than inspiring, he was downright bad. I'd give you the play-by-play, but it doesn't matter in the end; Iona lost by forty points. I got out of there before the dust had settled and went back home. I wasn't avoiding anyone; heck, I knew when it was time to pay the piper. I just wanted some time to think about what I was doing traipsing around town pretending to be some sort of detective instead of delivering newspapers like a regular kid. All that thinking just got me a big fat headache and another long, sleepless night.
 

Saturday, March 14, 6:09 p.m.
A street with no name, Grandma's House

Mike paid me a visit Saturday evening with a couple of heavies from the football team who waited at the end of the driveway, looking tough. If they thought I was going to kick up a stink, they were dead wrong. I handed over my iPod, my cell and my laptop and said good riddance before they had time to look smug.

Of course, my grandma, who's nobody's fool, found out about the whole fiasco. She made a few quick calls to California and cut off my tidy little allowance faster than you can say poorhouse. From then on, the money would be put into an account for my education. She even threatened to call Principal Snit and let him know that a gambling ring was operating right under his nose at Iona High, but I begged and pleaded with her until she gave up. The last thing I needed was to be known as the school snitch.

I tried to call Jennifer, but she didn't pick up. For some silly reason, I thought talking to her might heal the pain.

Sunday, March 15, 10:37 a.m.
13 Oort Cloud Court, The Shed

On Sunday, I went to pay Tobias a visit. I felt like I owed the poor sucker an apology. I had him pegged for a pretty fragile kid, and I'd put him in a bad situation for my own greedy reasons. So I wanted to let him know that I would back him up if he needed a friend.

I figured he might be holed up in his shed, so that's where I headed. This time, I decided to skip the back window and use the front door. The place was pretty much cleared out; no more desk, no laptop, no textbooks. The whiteboard was still up, and the bookcase was still there, but everything else was gone.

I strolled over to the bookcase and started pushing on the panels, looking for the secret door. When I got to the bottom row, closest to the desk, the panel popped off and I found myself looking down a long narrow room. There were crumbs on the ground, an empty can of Coke, and a few nails and tacks sticking out of the wall with scraps of paper still attached to them. I spotted a small black filing cabinet squeezed into the far end with the drawers still open, so I slithered in to see what I could find. The hanging files inside were all empty, but I spotted a yellow sticky note lying at the bottom of the cabinet that read

Call Mike re football scores.
 

Call Mike? Was that the same Mike that Jennifer had introduced me to? Why would an egghead like Tobias know a punk like Mike? And if Tobias did know Mike, and he was involved in the gambling ring, then —