by Megan Atwood
“I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t we take turns? Let’s go to Dinah’s Diner and ONE of us will follow Beckett, then come report to the others. Then switch off! Then maybe it won’t be so obvious that we’re watching him.”
Olive grinned and Peter nodded. Sarah felt something grow in her. Was it . . . like? Did she actually LIKE Olive and Peter? So far they’d been pretty cool during the investigation. She eyed them, thinking.
But Lizzie interrupted her thoughts. “I don’t think I can. . . . I don’t want to. . . .”
Sarah knew immediately what she was talking about. She stepped in. “Someone else will go first.”
And then she kind of understood what Olive meant. Maybe she and Lizzie DID have a special language.
But there was no time to think about it. Peter said, “I’ll go.”
“Okay,” Olive said. “Peter, you go check out what he’s doing in that hardware store. We’ll go into the coffee shop.”
They split up and the three girls walked to the coffee shop. When they got there, Sarah ordered a huge chocolate malt with whipped cream.
Dinah came over and gave everyone a hug. Rachel followed her with pastries for all of them. She said, “How are you liking our town, Olive?”
Olive, who had a malt too, smiled. “I like it a lot. It’s REALLY different from Boston, though. And I miss my friends.”
Sarah felt a pang of guilt. She’d never even thought about having to leave her friends. What would she do if she had to leave Lizzie? Sarah suddenly felt like she understood a little better what her mom was talking about.
Rachel squeezed her shoulder. “Yes, most of us here moved from somewhere else. It’s hard. But that’s why we all stick together. And you’re part of our family for as long as you’re here!” Then she walked away.
Lizzie smiled at Olive, and Olive smiled back. Sarah tried not to feel jealous. Maybe she could just try to be better about all this.
Olive, Lizzie, and Sarah waited in the booth, on the lookout for Peter and their suspect. Sarah stared at the other stores on the street, trying to see everything as if it was all brand-new, all through Olive’s and Peter’s eyes.
Lizzie squeaked and pointed. Beckett was coming out of Hakeem’s store, a small bag in his hand. A minute later, Peter followed. He saw them in Dinah’s and jogged over.
Peter came into the shop, just a little breathless. He said, “Okay, here’s the deal. He didn’t buy anything big. Just an air pump. And he told the clerk he was going home. Do we know where he lives?”
Everyone looked at Lizzie. “What?” she said, alarmed. But then she looked away. She said quietly, “He lives on Plymouth Road in Hanoverville.”
“Okay, let’s go follow him,” Sarah said. She got up and set her drink down.
“What about the plan to have just one of us follow him?” Olive pushed her glasses up and squinted at Sarah.
“Well, if he’s going home, I think we should confront him.”
Lizzie squeaked, but Olive nodded slowly. “Yes. Get him on his home turf. Then maybe he’ll feel comfortable enough to confess.”
Peter nodded, and Lizzie just looked miserable. They all started discussing the pros and cons and walked out the door together. Sarah was saying to Lizzie, “It’s really the best way, don’t you think?” when everyone seemed to stop around her and Lizzie’s face went pale.
Sarah looked up. Right at Beckett McIntyre.
“So why don’t you four tell me why you’re spying on me?” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.
CHAPTER 9
Vanilla Ice Cream. That’s It. No Hiding Anything.
Uh,” Lizzie said.
“Um . . . ,” Peter said.
“What?” Olive and Sarah said in unison.
“Why are you spying on me? I saw you in Annabelle’s, and then outside of Dinah’s, doing some sort of weird group dance. Then this guy in Hakeem’s. And now I overhear you saying you’re going to follow me home. What gives?”
Sarah was impressed by how calm he was. She didn’t think she’d be that calm, that was for sure. But she knew the jig was up. She just hoped Lizzie had started breathing again.
Then Sarah realized something: they could have just been caught by a thief! So why was HE giving THEM a hard time? She put on a mean look.
“Let’s go back inside, mister,” Sarah said. “We have some questions for you.” She put her hands on her hips and stared him down.
He shrugged. “Okay.”
The five of them walked back in and Dinah said, “Your group keeps growing!”
Sarah mumbled under her breath, “Tell me about it.”
They found a booth. Beckett sat on one side and the four of them scrunched in on the other, Lizzie crammed against the wall, looking terrified and still clinging to the paper from Annabelle’s. Sarah hung off the edge of the seat, keeping herself on it with no small effort of legwork. She tried to keep her look as mean as she could muster.
“We have some questions for YOU, Mr. Question-Asker,” she said, her foot sliding so she almost fell off the bench. She scrunched into the booth more tightly and heard Lizzie grunt.
Beckett looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
Olive tried to lean forward, but she seemed stuck. “At the ice cream stand. You were asking us a bunch of questions.”
“So?”
“So,” Sarah continued, standing up—a choice that was entirely her own and not because she couldn’t keep her balance on the bench. “Better for intimidating thieves,” she thought to herself. “So, you wanted to know all about how much money we made.”
Beckett furrowed his brow. “Kind of. I mean, that was part of it.”
Lizzie squeaked. Olive and Sarah said at the same time, “She means ‘Why?’ ” Sarah stared at Olive. Olive shifted.
“Well, because I write for the newspaper. ‘Kids’ Corner’? I’m doing a story on your ice cream stand because it’s run by four kids. I thought that was really cool. And the fact that you’re trusted with so much money is super-cool too.”
Sarah slumped back on the bench, practically in Olive’s lap. Well. That made sense, unfortunately.
“Oh,” said Olive and Peter at the same time.
Lizzie said, “See?”
Sarah said, “Dang.”
Beckett leaned forward. “What is this all about? Are you upset I’m doing a story?”
Olive said, “We just lost—” but Sarah interrupted.
With a pasted-on smile, she said, “Gotcha! Ha ha! We just thought it would be funny to get your attention. So that you’ll come back for the zombie hayride in the fall and write about it. So we can get more customers!”
Beckett furrowed his brow again. His look said, “You four are really strange. I need to leave.” But what he said was “Okay. Good luck with everything! I will come back in the fall.”
He got up and left, and Sarah slid around to the other side of the booth, her shoulders slumped. Lizzie sighed dreamily.
Peter said, “Lizzie, check the paper you’re holding to be sure.”
Lizzie opened up the newspaper and smoothed it out. She looked at the table of contents and then turned to the “Kids’ Corner” page. She pointed to his name. “There he is. And now he thinks we’re a bunch of weirdos, following him around.” She laid her head down on the paper.
Sarah patted her head. “I mean, at least he’s coming back in the fall?”
Lizzie groaned. Peter said, “If we can find the money.”
Sarah slumped in the booth even more. Everyone else seemed to deflate too.
Lizzie put her chin on her hand. “Sarah and her mom are coming over for dinner tonight. If we don’t solve this today, we have to tell my parents.”
Olive pushed a saltshaker with her finger. She shoved her glasses up. “Well, I want to suggest something, but I don’t want to offend anyone.”
Sarah thought, “That’s a first,” but she shrugged and waited. Lizzie nodded encouragingly.
Olive cleared her throat. “It’s just . . . If Beckett didn’t do it, then we have to consider other people. And the most likely people would be those who came to the ice cream stand.”
Peter nodded. “Someone stole the money either because they needed it or because they didn’t want us to have it.”
Sarah had to admit that made sense. “So we need to just think about every single person who’s come to the stand?”
Olive and Peter nodded.
“Oh. Easy.” Sarah snorted.
Lizzie said, “Well . . .” For once, Sarah had no idea what she meant. Lizzie went on, “We need to think about who came to the stand and if they said anything.”
Sarah nodded, but a feeling of unease started in her stomach. She bounced her legs.
Lizzie put the newspaper on the table and asked if anyone had a pen. No one did, so Sarah grabbed one from the counter. When he came back, everyone looked at each other. Finally, Lizzie spoke. “Sarah, when we put up the flyers, lots of people weren’t thrilled about a zombie hayride, remember?”
Sarah tapped her mouth with her finger. “Yeah. Stella didn’t seem to like the idea. Or Rachel, come to think of it. But so what? Adults sometimes have wrong opinions. I’ve seen it a lot.” She nodded sagely.
“Why didn’t they like the idea?” Olive asked, pushing up her glasses again. Peter grabbed some toothpicks on the table and laid them out, putting them in different patterns. Sarah was mesmerized.
“What does it matter?” She eyed Olive suspiciously. “They would never DO anything about it.”
Lizzie looked down at the table. She said, “Well . . . I remember someone saying all the shop owners here were losing money because business was slow.”
Sarah whipped her head around to Lizzie. “So you think they’d STEAL something from us?”
The four of them all looked at each other and then away. Sarah couldn’t believe it.
Lizzie said, pleading with Sarah, “Sometimes good people do things because they’re desperate. Or can only think of their own situation. You know, like in the old movies. Money makes people crazy.”
Peter and Olive nodded gravely. “Like the one we watched together, The Ukrainian Hawk,” Olive said. “The people weren’t trying to be bad. They stole it to raise money to keep the town afloat.”
Sarah huffed—why did they have to rub in the old movies all the time? But Lizzie might have a bit of a point. Money DID make people crazy. One time Sarah had accidentally used her mom’s credit card to buy new shoes. Her mom didn’t like that at all. Plus, Sarah had seen enough NEW movies to know it was true.
She made a decision. “Well, let’s make a list,” she said. “Just to prove they DIDN’T do it, okay?”
Lizzie nodded, looking relieved. “Yes! I don’t think they would have done that either. But we should be thorough.”
Peter and Olive nodded. “I’m sure they didn’t. But we should just check to rule them out,” Olive said. “They’ve been so nice to us. I don’t want to think they did anything like that.”
Sarah glared at her. “They didn’t. We’ll prove it. Let’s split up and do some investigating. Uh, Peter and Olive in one group, me and Lizzie in another.” She didn’t look anyone in the eye and hoped hoped hoped they’d just go for it.
Peter said, “It might be faster if we all talked to different people at the same time. We can get done quicker.”
Sarah sighed. He wasn’t wrong. Plus, that would get the people of the town off the hook sooner and let them figure out who the real culprit was.
“Fine,” she said. “We have Rachel and Aaron, Hakeem, Stella, Ms. Henderson, Noa from Noa’s Grocery and Bait, Mariko and Aldo . . . Anyone else, Lizzie?”
Lizzie thought for a second. “Sheriff Hadley wouldn’t do it, since he’s the law. . . .”
Sarah almost said, “DUH,” but then she thought a little more. “I mean, I guess he was looking into going to a sci-fi conference? We should rule him out too.” Lizzie nodded and wrote Sheriff Hadley’s name down.
“But Dani didn’t say anything, did she?” Lizzie asked.
Sarah shook her head. “None of the town would! But I don’t think Dani needs the money; she has the town’s money. And my mom wouldn’t do it because she’s my mom. And the library is funded by the state.”
Olive and Peter were staring at them.
“What?” Sarah asked, wondering if she’d just sounded stupid.
“Do you know everyone in town? Like, everyone?” Peter asked.
Sarah shrugged. “Yeah.”
Olive shook her head. “Wow. I can’t even imagine.”
Lizzie smiled. “Really, you do too now. I mean on Main Street, anyway.”
“It’s just so weird,” Olive said. “In Boston, we only know certain people. And we’d call the police if our money got stolen. And . . . so many other things. Like, why does every store sell bait?” Olive scratched her head.
“Because we’re near a lake, silly,” Sarah said. DUH. But she didn’t add that. She looked at the list and figured out quickly who should do what. “Anyway, if we’re splitting up and doing this, here’s what we’ll do: Lizzie, you talk to Rachel, and Peter, you talk to Aaron. Then, when you’re done, Lizzie, you talk to Stella, and Peter, you talk to Hakeem. Olive, you talk to Noa and then Mariko and Aldo. And I’ll talk to the sheriff and to Ms. Henderson. Deal?”
Everyone nodded. Olive said, “Meet back here?”
Sarah shook her head. “No, let’s meet back at the orchard. I don’t want anyone to think we think they stole the money.”
They all looked at each other seriously, then one by one left to get the town and its people off the hook.
CHAPTER 10
Peach, Strawberry, and Spinach Ice Cream. Or, Things That You May Not Want but That You Need.
Sarah decided to go see Sheriff Hadley first. She knew that he couldn’t be the one who had taken the money, but she always liked talking to him. Even if he was really weird about her mom.
She opened the door to the sheriff’s office and found him standing in front of a large half-painted blue box that was taller than him. He looked around the box when the door opened. He had blue on his forehead, on his nose, and all over his fingers. His red hair stuck out all over and had blue streaks in it.
“Oh, hey there, Sarah,” he said, then popped his head back around the box so she couldn’t see him.
“I’m just painting a Tardis!” he said, his voice muffled. “I am going to leave it outside so people can come by and leave comments about the town and any improvements they think should happen. It’ll seem a lot bigger on the inside, really.”
Sarah walked over to the desk chair, which was behind the Tardis and the sheriff, and slumped in it, spinning it around with her legs. The blue was really pretty, but she had no idea what he was talking about. And she suddenly found herself feeling really grumpy.
Sheriff Hadley put the paintbrush down in the paint tray and grabbed a once-white towel now mostly covered in blue. He wiped his hands, but it only smeared the paint more evenly around them. Sarah stifled a giggle. Even as grumpy as she felt, that was funny.
“How are you doing, Sarah? And how is Ana?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “My mom is fiiiiiiinnne,” she said while spinning the chair around hard. The sheriff leaned against the wall.
“But something tells me you’re not fine. Am I right?” He stared at her, one eyebrow up.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She kicked her feet against the chair, suddenly, for no reason at all, feeling tears spring to her eyes.
He grabbed a folding chair that was leaning on the wall and sat on the other side of the desk, so that Sarah looked like the sheriff and he looked like a citizen. She smiled a little. But only a little.
“Well, Ms. Sarah, want to tell me what’s going on? Sometimes sheriffs can be nice. Not always! But sometimes.” He smiled at her and she shrugged again. But the left side of her mouth only went up into a half-smile.
She thou
ght for a second. “Sheriff Hadley . . . let’s say you like someone a lot. And they like you, too. But then one day other people come in and it seems like you don’t count anymore. And the person you like seems to like the new people more, even though you’ve been together way longer—” She stopped. Sheriff Hadley’s face had gone pale.
He said in a quiet, terrified voice, “Sarah, is your mom . . . Are you trying to tell me that your mom . . . Is your mom . . . dating someone?” He swallowed.
Sarah looked at the ceiling and made a sound of great irritation. “Uuuuuggghhh. No. Gross.”
Sheriff Hadley ran his hand through his red hair and exhaled loudly. Then he said, “Oh, just kidding!” and gave the fakest laugh Sarah had ever heard. Except her own laugh when Mr. G told a bad dad joke. The sheriff went on, “Um, I think I know what you’re saying, but do you want to say more?”
Sarah stared at her shoes and twirled her ankles. “I’m just afraid . . . Ugh. I think I might be losing my best friend.”
Sheriff Hadley said softly, “Why do you think that?”
Two tears traveled down her face. She wiped them away impatiently. “We don’t like the same things a lot of times. We have a lot of fun together, but we’re really different. And then . . . new people came and I think my best friend likes them better.”
The sheriff chuckled. “I think I know who you’re talking about. You don’t need to talk in code.”
“Fine. I think Lizzie isn’t my best friend anymore because she likes Olive and Peter better.” Two more tears streamed down her face—when she said it out loud like that, it made everything worse. She put her head down on Sheriff Hadley’s desk and let the tears go. She felt him pat her hand, which was sticking out, and she let him do it. She sat back up and wiped her nose with her arm.
Sheriff Hadley said, “Ewwwwwww!” which made Sarah giggle hard. And then she got the giggles and couldn’t stop laughing.
Finally, when she was done laughing, the sheriff looked at her seriously. “What did your mom say about it?”
Sarah looked him in the eye. “She said I should try to imagine what it’s like to be Olive and Peter. Coming to this town and not knowing anyone. And that Nane and Papa had to come all the way over here from Iran and some people were mean to them. But many people were really nice. So . . . I guess that’s what Lizzie is. She’s the nice one.”