Vanishing Acts
Page 11
Hamilton’s brow furrowed, and he took a good look at his daughter.
“I guess you did.”
“I can help you with other cases, too, if you’d just trust me.”
“I do trust you, Madison. And you’re right. I don’t give you enough credit. I promise to take your ideas more seriously from now on.”
“Are you still going to ground me?” Madison asked hopefully.
“Did you play hooky from school to go to Prescott-Mather and to come to court today?”
Madison colored and nodded.
“Then I have to ground you.”
“Can I go to soccer practice?” She knew everyone was standing around listening, but she had to find out.
Hamilton thought for a moment. Then he nodded.
“The first game is this weekend. Can I play in it?”
“Yes, but don’t expect to celebrate if you win. It’s home for you as soon as the whistle blows. And I’ll be there watching to make sure you behave yourself.”
Judge Young had been listening carefully to the exchange between Hamilton and his daughter. When she saw that the lawyer was done, she smiled at Madison.
“I agree with your father. Playing hooky is serious. And going into strangers’ houses is not a safe thing to do. But I also admire your brainwork. You showed great initiative, Madison. Maybe we can get you in here interning when you’re in high school—but just please promise me that you won’t put yourself in harm’s way again.”
The judge’s remark erased some of the sting of being grounded.
“I promise, Your Honor. Thank you,” Madison said, her brain whirling. An internship at the courthouse would be a fantastic step on her way to law school . . . or maybe her own detective agency? Jake punched her arm, as if to say “congrats.”
Judge Young looked at the district attorney. “Under the circumstances, Mr. Payne, I think a motion to dismiss is in order.”
The DA nodded his head. “I’ll do it right away, judge.”
Chapter 21
Not Bad for a Seventh Grader
The Grove’s first regular-season girls’ soccer game was against Reston Middle School. Madison knew she wouldn’t start because she was an alternate, and she had little hope of getting into the game at all because of the way she’d screwed up in the scrimmage against Prescott-Mather. The coach hadn’t even glanced in her direction throughout the whole game. Madison was resigned to riding the bench.
Ann, Jake, Becca, Lacey, Jessi, Peggy, and her dad were in the stands. Every once in a while she would look over her shoulder and someone would catch her eye and wave or give a thumbs-up to encourage her, but all that did was depress her because she knew they were just trying to cheer her up.
There were only a few minutes left till the end and the score was tied at one to one. This wasn’t the time for a coach to put an untested seventh grader into the game. Then Carrie Metzger collapsed. She was the girl who had injured her ankle during the scrimmage at Prescott-Mather, opening a chance for Madison to play. Carrie’s ankle had still been bothering her and she’d missed most of the practices the week before the game. She’d been playing on guts, but now she was rolling on the ground in agony and clutching her ankle.
The game stopped while Carrie was helped to the sidelines. Coach Davis looked at her bench for a moment. Then she pointed at Madison.
“Get in there for Metzger,” she ordered. It took a second for Madison to realize that the coach was pointing at her.
“Yeah, you, Kincaid. Hop to it.”
Madison jumped up and ran onto the field. Marci was giving the team a pep talk.
“There’re less than three minutes left in the game and this is probably our last drive. Reston is one of the worst teams in the league, but we’re playing like crap. If we tie we can kiss our chances to repeat as champion good-bye. So suck it up and let’s show Reston what The Grove is made of.”
The referee blew the whistle and Marci dribbled the ball downfield toward the Reston goal. Reston’s defenders started moving toward Marci. Marci looked to her left toward one of her best friends and saw that she was covered. Then Marci looked right and saw Madison. It was just like the scrimmage. Marci and her friend had no shot and Madison had only one defender between her and the goal. Madison could read Marci’s mind. Marci didn’t like Madison and she had to be remembering Madison’s unplanned flight through space that cost The Grove the win over Prescott-Mather. But Marci had no choice. Madison was the only player with a chance to win the game, so Marci gritted her teeth and passed the ball.
This time Madison didn’t take her eye off it. She took off running. In the stands, her friends were on their feet, chanting, “Go, Madison, go!” The defenders who had been closing in on Marci started running toward her. There was still only one girl between her and the goal, but that wouldn’t last long. If she was going to take her shot, it would have to be now. Madison was getting ready to try for the score when she saw Marci out of the corner of her eye. The eighth grader was suddenly all alone. Madison didn’t think. She swiveled toward Marci and made a perfect pass.
All the defenders were running at Madison so quickly that they couldn’t change direction in time. It was down to Marci and the goalie and Marci would not be denied. She faked as if she was going to shoot into the right side of the goal. The goalie bit. The second she shifted, Marci sent a screamer into the left corner! The Grove girls went wild. Madison raced to join her jubilant teammates, and Marci smiled at her.
“That was a great pass, Kincaid,” Marci said. Then she gave Madison a high five.
Too astonished to speak, Madison just grinned.
Ann and the other girls knew that Madison was grounded, so they said good-bye after the game. Hamilton told her he’d meet her in the parking lot. Jake was waiting for Madison when she walked out of the locker room.
“What a great pass!” Jake said. “Marci scored the goal, but you saved the day.”
“Thanks, but I only played for a few minutes. I think it’s a little early for the MVP award.”
Marci and her gang barged through the swinging doors. Marci saw Madison and clapped her on the shoulder.
“Good game, Kincaid. See you at practice.”
The other girls smiled and waved.
“Wow,” Madison said. “Maybe I’ll make it through the season alive after all.”
Jake laughed. They walked out of the school. When Jake saw they were alone, he got serious.
“You know, it was hard for me to leave Georgia and move here, and try to make new friends and . . . well . . . I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m really enjoying soccer, but helping you solve the Shelby murder case is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
“It was fun,” Madison agreed, remembering all the ways Jake had helped her. And, if she was honest with herself, the fun she’d had just being around him. “And it was much better having you snoop with me than snooping on my own. We make a great detective team and should solve more cases together.”
Jake looked like he wanted to say something when a Volvo station wagon drove up. “That’s my mom. I’ve got to go.”
“See you,” Madison said. She felt shy but couldn’t have explained why.
Halfway to the car, Jake turned back as if he’d forgotten something. He ran back to Madison, leaned over, and gave her a quick kiss.
“See you Monday,” he said before jogging off.
Madison was too stunned to answer. She had never kissed a boy before. She put her hand to her lips and decided it was pretty nice. Walking toward the parking lot, she thought about the past few weeks. She’d started junior high, qualified for the best middle school soccer team in the city, found Ann, and solved a murder case. Now she might have a boyfriend. Not bad for a seventh grader.
Acknowledgments
We could not have written Vanishing Acts without help. Ashley Berman told us everything we needed to know about soccer, and Brian Ostrom helped us understand DNA and blood typing. Any mistakes about these subjects
are our fault. Laura Arnold and Rosemary Brosnan, our intrepid editors, improved our original draft immensely, and we appreciate their hard work. We also want to thank Jessica Regel and Jennifer Weltz and everyone else at the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency. Finally, our deepest thanks to Andy Rome for putting up with Ami, no simple task.
About the Authors
PHILLIP MARGOLIN has written more than a dozen New York Times bestselling mysteries for adults, including GONE, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN; EXECUTIVE PRIVILEGE; and WILD JUSTICE. With VANISHING ACTS, he is achieving two firsts—his first book for young readers and his first book writing with his daughter, Ami Margolin Rome.
AMI MARGOLIN ROME is an education policy specialist and former Peace Corps volunteer. Like Madison, Ami grew up in Portland, Oregon, with a criminal defense attorney for a father. She still lives in Portland today, near her father.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Credits
Jacket art © 2011 by Marcos Calo
Jacket design by Joel Tippie
Copyright
Vanishing Acts
Copyright © 2011 by Phillip Margolin and Ami Margolin Rome
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-0-06-188556-3
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EPub Edition © SEPTEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780062093509
First Edition
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