The Case of the Bad Twin

by Shannon Greenland

  Okay, so I can tell her I’m locked in our shed and she will (of course) come straight home. But then I would have to explain why I’m locked in here and what I’ve been up to, and I know she won’t approve. ALL GOOD HERE, I text back. ETA?

  ANOTHER HOUR OR SO. I JUST WON TWO IN A ROW!

  YAY! I text back. Another hour or so for me to figure out how to get out of this. I squint through the slats, trying to figure out if I can stick a coat hanger through them and down to the latch. Maybe.

  I turn around, using my phone as a flashlight to search the shed. I find boxes of clothes, crates of art supplies, a shovel, a rake, a hand push lawn mower, piles of gardening supplies, but nothing long enough that I can feed it through the slats and down to the latch.

  I could maybe call Nathan, the boy who works for Aunt Grace, but then he would just tell my aunt. No, I need someone who will let me out and will keep it to herself.

  Diamond.

  I scroll through my recent dials, find her number, and tap it.

  “What’s up?” She says after one ring.

  I don’t bother making small talk and instead, jump right in. “Rocco locked me in our shed. My aunt will be home soon, and I need out of this now.”

  She pauses a second or two and then starts laughing.

  “Diamond, I’m serious.”

  “I know you are.” She keeps laughing.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “Yes, it is.” Laugh-laugh-laugh.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that you remind me of my sister.”

  I hope that’s a good thing. “Are you helping me or what?”

  “I can’t. It’s way past my curfew.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that. I didn’t think someone like Diamond would have a curfew. “What about your dad?”

  “Hang on.” I hear mumbled voices before she comes back on. “We’ll be right over.”

  “Oh, thank God.” She’s never been to my house, and I start to tell her where I live, but she hangs up. Her dad is a private investigator. He’ll figure it out.

  A mosquito lands on my arm and I smack it against my leg. Of course, there would be a mosquito in here with me. There’s probably a whole family of them just waiting to suck my blood and give me some weird disease.

  I brought this on myself. It’s not like I can actually blame Rocco for retaliating. Even if I left collateral, I did steal his bike and threaten him with a closed can of teeny-tiny pepper spray. But leaving me here in this shed? This means war. I’m going to get Rocco back, or I’ll go down trying.

  It feels like hours that I’m standing here waiting on Diamond and her dad, but in actuality, it’s only minutes by vehicle between here and the marina where they live. Soon big halogen headlights cut through the night, coming down the coastal highway, and slowing to pull into our driveway.

  Those headlights beam on the shed, and I squint into their brightness as I give a lame wave through the vent. The passenger door opens, and Diamond jumps down from a huge black truck. She shuts her door and strolls across the yard straight toward me.

  She grins, and I’m too relieved to feel embarrassed as she reaches out and lifts the latch. The door swings open and I inhale a huge fresh breath. I didn’t realize how muggy it was in here. Diamond cocks her head, studying me, waiting for an explanation.

  With a sigh, I step out and close the door. “Remember when we were at Rocco’s apartment earlier?”

  She nods.

  “I sort of took his bike. Actually, I borrowed it. But I left mine as collateral.”

  Diamond laughs. “The reason being?”

  “Mine had a flat tire.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway, then we sort of had a run-in down at the ferry, and I pulled my pepper spray on him. I didn’t use it, though.”

  “Good to know.”

  I lift my hand and give Mr. De Luca a thankful wave, and he waves back. “I had this plan that I would remove the chain, lure Rocco in, then shove him in the shed until he told me everything he knows about the time capsule.”

  “That’s some plan.”

  “I thought so, too. Except he beat me to the idea and walked off with his bike.”

  “You win some, you lose some.”

  Yeah, I may have lost this one, but I’m definitely winning the next one.

  Chapter 16

  I’m wide awake, staring at my ceiling fan, listening to Aunt Grace taking a shower. We’re supposed to visit Mom this morning, and for the first time in three years, I don’t want to go.

  I don’t want to sit across from her and tell her about the last few days. I don’t want to tell her what Mama Garcia said. I don’t want to ask Mom if it’s true because I know it is. I mean, does she know that simply being her daughter has given me a bad rep? Does she care?

  The shower cuts off, and I sigh. Any minute now Aunt Grace will look in to see if I’m up. Maybe I can play sick. I doubt she would buy it, though. I’m never sick.

  As if on cue, she knocks on my door before peeking her head in. “Good morning, cutie.”

  “’Morning.”

  “I got home a little later than expected last night.” She cringes. “Sorry about that.”

  I wave her off. “All good.”

  “I saw your bike is back.”

  I sit straight up, and Clover goes rolling down my chest. “It is?”

  Aunt Grace gives me an odd look. “You didn’t know?”

  “Oh, um, yeah.” A new day. Another lie. I suppose it’s fitting with who we’re going to see today. I rub my eyes. “Sorry, still waking up.”

  Taking the towel off her head, she begins drying the ends of her long blonde hair. “We’re leaving in thirty. Up and at ‘em.”

  “Aunt Grace?” Here goes nothing. “Can we not go?”

  She pauses in her drying. “What? Why?”

  Where do I start? “I don’t know,” I mumble, looking down at my multi-colored comforter.

  She takes a step into my room that used to belong to my mom. I wonder if Aunt Grace ever thinks about that. “What’s going on?” She asks.

  Bringing my gaze up to hers, I say, “You never talk about what it was like when Mom lived here.”

  “Why are you asking me that?” Aunt Grace sits down on the edge of my bed.

  “Do you think people remember her?”

  “Of course, people remember your mom. She’s unforgettable.”

  “In a bad way?” I look down at Clover, running my fingers over her ears. “Or a good way?”

  Aunt Grace doesn’t immediately respond, and I know she’s trying to figure out how much to say and/or which way to say it. Finally, she sighs. “Your mom has always had this larger than life personality. I always thought she’d make a great salesperson. She can talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime. It’s just who she is. But she’s also always had a mischievous side, and those two things mixed together aren’t good. This island was too small for her, and the moment she could, she was out of here.”

  “She was like that even when Grandpa Jack and Grandma Susan were alive?”

  “Yes, even as a tiny girl, she was quite the little thing. Your grandpa died when she was five, but I remember he used to say to your grandma, ‘We’re going to have to watch this one real close.’ He never meant that in a mean way, though.”

  “I know.” I think about all of that for a few seconds. “Who do you think I take after?”

  “You’re a great combination of everyone. Your grandparents had their fingers in everything—politics, the arts, real estate, Piper Investigations—and they both had huge hearts, sharp wit, and big personalities. I wish they could have met you. They would have loved you, and they would have loved even more this time capsule project you’re doing for the island.”

  This makes a huge grin spread across my face.

  Reaching over, Aunt Grace takes my hand. “I will tell you this, my sister loves you. Did you know she calls me once a week just to talk about you? She wa
nts to know everything you’re doing in great detail. Every second of that phone call is filled with her questions and laughter.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t. She has her phone call with you, sure, but the one with me is always about you and only you.” Aunt Grace squeezes my fingers. “Every person has bad sides to them and good sides. Your mom is paying right now for the bad side.”

  Sliding my fingers out from under Aunt Grace’s hand, I give Clover another rub. “What about the bad stuff I did when I was with her?”

  “It’s not your fault she used you in her cons. Sweetheart, you were just a kid. You still are a kid. Everyone knows that. No one around here thinks you’re bad.”

  “Officer Crawl does,” I murmur. “So does Mama Garcia.”

  Aunt Grace reaches under my chin and makes me look her in the eyes. “Mama Garcia is perpetually grouchy.” Amusement crinkles the corners of Aunt Grace’s brown eyes. “Officer Crawl is a dork.”

  I bust out laughing. “Aunt Grace!”

  Laughing, too, she pushes up off the bed. “Now get moving. We don’t want to be late.”

  “One last thing?” I ask.

  She stops at my door, glancing back.

  “I saw an envelope in the mail basket from Mom’s lawyer. Is everything okay?”

  She nods. “Sure, nothing you need to worry about.”

  “Okay,” I say, but I know my aunt, and I know something’s up.

  Chapter 17

  After Aunt Grace leaves my room, I crawl out of bed and over to my window that looks out over the shed and carport. Swiveling the blinds, I glance out and sure enough, there’s Lolli parked in her usual spot complete with an inflated tire and black patch over the area I assume must have been the bad part. I can’t believe Diamond and her dad did this for me.

  I send her a quick text: THANK YOU FOR MY BIKE! Followed by another: I’LL BE GONE ALL MORNING. CATCH UP AFTER LUNCH?

  She doesn’t text me back, so I go about getting ready. While I do, I launch the listening app and tune my ears to Rocco’s room where I planted the device. I back it up, I fast forward, but I’m greeted with absolute silence. Maybe he stayed at the other house, the one where his aunt lives.

  Or maybe he stayed with Ean. I bet they were up all night laughing over Rocco locking me in the shed. Well, that’s fine. Let them laugh. The joke will be on them when I find the capsule and bust this thing wide open.

  . . .

  I use the entire ride to the correctional facility to make phone calls. First to Principal Berger.

  He says, “As much as I know you don’t want to hear this, you need to start calling and canceling the burial ceremony. Especially to those who required a deposit. I know that’s a lot of phone calls but get Josie to help you.”

  “I think Josie is on vacation with her parents.” Not like she would help me anyway. “Give me just a bit more time. Really, the only thing that required a deposit was the band.”

  “At a minimum, give a heads up that the ceremony might not be happening,” Berger says. “Also, you should know Josie called and told me she saw Rocco running from campus carrying what looked like the capsule under his arm.”

  I can’t believe Josie did that. As much as I want to figure this out, I wouldn’t snitch on anybody unless I absolutely knew the truth. “Glad Josie’s calling someone,” I mumble. “Mr. Berger, Josie and Rocco were both on campus that night. They’ve admitted to it.”

  “Either way, I put a call into Mrs. Garcia and am waiting to hear back.”

  Well, at least the call from Principal Berger to Mama Garcia came about via Josie snitching and not me. Mama Garcia doesn’t need any more reason to dislike me. “Other than the fifty dollar reward, I don’t suppose you heard anything else back from that mass email you sent out.”

  Principal Berger pauses, and for a moment I think we may have been disconnected, then he says, “I was actually going to call your aunt about an email I received.”

  “She’s right here.” I look over at her. “Principal Berger wants to talk to you.”

  Aunt Grace shakes her head. “Not while I’m driving. Tell him I’ll call him back.”

  I relay the message, and then we hang up. “Why do you think he wants to talk to you?”

  Using her knuckle, she pushes her sunglasses up her nose. “No clue.”

  “I wish there were cameras around campus. Maybe that’ll be my next project. Raising money to get better security.” As I say this, I think about all the houses that surround the campus. I bet one of them has exterior cameras. When I get back, I’ll go door-to-door and ask.

  Next, I call everyone scheduled for the ceremony—the food trucks, the band, the crafts, the current mayor—giving them a heads up that it may be canceled.

  In the middle of all this, I get a text from Diamond. DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOUR BIKE AND YOUR TIRE BUT IT WASN’T US.

  Okay, if it wasn’t Diamond and her dad who brought my bike back, then the only other person who knew about it was Rocco. Well, if he thinks bringing back my bike with a patched tire will soften me, then he’s got another thing coming.

  I fire off a quick return text. IF YOU HAVE TIME THIS MORNING, WILL YOU HIT UP THE NEIGHBORHOOD THAT BORDERS CAMPUS AND SEE IF ANYONE SAW ANYTHING? CHECK FOR CAMERAS.

  Diamond sends me a thumbs up as a response.

  Aunt Grace pulls into the correctional facility. “I think you need a personal assistant.” She finds a spot to park. “Do me a favor?”

  Putting my phone away, I glance over at her. “What’s that?”

  “Try to have some fun this summer.”

  “This is fun for me.”

  With a chuckle, she climbs from the driver’s side. “I mean, go to the beach. Have a sleepover with your new friend, Diamond. Something, anything other than running the world.”

  “I will,” I assure her, and as I follow her into the correctional facility, I realize I still haven’t told her about that creepy letter left at our house. I’m not sure I want to now. Nothing else has happened since. Plus, Aunt Grace will likely pull the plug on my investigative thing if she finds out.

  No, I’ll keep it to myself.

  Chapter 18

  Mom greets me with a hard hug, laughing and lifting me up off the ground. “Goodness, you’ve grown.”

  I hug her back, smiling, so happy I came. “It’s only been a month. I haven’t grown.”

  Letting go of me, she hugs Aunt Grace next. They’re fifteen years apart in age, but they could be twins with their matching blonde hair, brown eyes, and naturally tan skin. As she always does, Aunt Grace takes a seat at a table a few over from ours so we can visit alone.

  As I sit down beside Mom, my gaze travels around the room at all the inmates dressed in light blue visiting with their kids. The first few times I came here, I wouldn’t let go of Aunt Grace’s hand. But now it’s an old habit to sit beside Mom and visit.

  Grabbing the sides of my head, she presses a kiss to my cheek, and I inhale her familiar prison scent of bar soap and cheap disinfectant. She used to smell like flowers and expensive perfume.

  “Tell me everything,” she says.

  Even though we talk once per week, we have limited time, and I rarely get a chance to tell her everything. Plus, it’s been a month since I was here last. I have a lot to catch her up on. I begin detailing the past four weeks for her, though some of it she already knows. I don’t care. I don’t leave a thing out. When I get to the parts I haven’t told Aunt Grace, I lower my voice to make sure she can’t hear.

  I tell Mom about going to The Pit and having a run-in with Vail. I tell her about my new P. I. thing and all the supplies Diamond gave me. About going into Rocco’s house. Then I tell her about the creepy note left at our front door.

  The thing is, there are certain things I tell Mom and then there are certain things I tell Aunt Grace. Like I would never tell Mom what Mama Garcia said about her. Just like I would never tell Aunt Grace I went into Rocco’s house. Sometime
s I wish I could tell them both everything.

  When I’m done, the smile Mom has had the whole time is still in place. “You have been one busy girl.”

  Aunt Grace touches me on the back. “I’ll meet you outside. I want to return Principal Berger’s call.”

  She and Mom exchange another hug, and when Aunt Grace is gone, I take the ponytail from my hair and turn around so Mom can braid it. I know she loves to do that, and I like it, too.

  As she divides it into two sections, I think about when Rocco said he likes my hair braided, and it makes my stomach squishy. “What do you think I should do about Vail?” I ask.

  “Diamond’s right. Vail’s a bully.” She leans in, talking to me over my shoulder. “Remember where to kick a boy?”

  My face heats. “Yes.”

  She nods. “Vail bullies you again, you haul off and kick him in his groin. That’ll stop him.”

  Smiling a little, I imagine doing just that, and yeah, it’s not a bad idea.

  “Any thoughts on the time capsule?” I ask next.

  She finishes on my right braid and begins on my left. She doesn’t answer me, and I can almost visualize the excited criminal wheels turning in her head. I glance over my shoulder at her, and yep, that’s the look she used to get when she was planning a con. “You’ve been thinking all along that this is a prank,” she says.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you focus on what’s inside the capsule. Perhaps this isn’t a prank at all and whoever took it, wanted the contents.”

  I shake my head. “There’s nothing in there of value. It’s all sentimental.”

  “If you say so, but you might want to take another look.”

  The room’s buzzer goes off, signaling it’s time to wrap up family day. Mom quickly finishes with my left braid and gives me one last hug. “Did your aunt tell you the good news?”

  “What news?”

  “I may be getting out of here sooner than we thought. Which means you and me can hit the road again.” She laughs. “Isn’t that great?”