by James Riley
“No one gets left behind !” she said in a singsong voice. “Including people trying to be heroes.”
“You three, stop this instant and go back inside!” Inspector Brown shouted in a bullhorn from the parking lot. “There’s nowhere for you to run. We don’t want you to get hurt.”
Owen paused at this, but the girl gave him a not-so-small push, and he continued moving along the ledge. He picked up speed and slid carefully farther toward the edge of the building.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much farther to go. The ledge ran out just past a few more windows. “So when you say you know what you’re doing . . . ,” he whispered to the girl.
“Oh, I’ve so got this,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
“So I’m guessing you just had a memory return too?” Kiel called to him.
“Yup,” Owen said. “I convinced Bethany to look into Doyle, Kiel. This is all my fault.”
“We both went to her,” Kiel said. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“It was my idea,” Owen said. “But I said I had a backup plan. Did you get that memory yet?”
“Nope,” Kiel said, sounding a bit frustrated. Not having his magic must be tough for him, Owen realized. He had seemed a bit different ever since he’d arrived at the police station. Not down so much as just . . . less Kiel.
“Turn around and go back inside!” Inspector Brown shouted into the bullhorn. “This isn’t helping your case. Come in and we’ll talk.”
“They’d rather die, cop!” the girl shouted back, her voice harsh and threatening. “You’ll never take them alive!”
“What?!” Owen said.
“I agree with the theory, but let’s not go overboard,” Kiel said.
“Follow my lead,” she whispered to them, grinning. “Trust me, it’s more fun that way!”
Owen gave Kiel a look, who shrugged, then smiled his Kiel smile. “Might as well,” the smile said. “It could be fun!”
“Who are you?” Owen whispered to the girl.
“Just a criminal genius who could probably stand a haircut at this point,” she told him. “Why, who are you?”
“Stop right there!” a police officer yelled from the ledge, coming out of Inspector Brown’s window behind them. They must have broken down his door.
“Oh, they’re calling our bluff!” the girl whispered, her eyes lighting up. “Looks like we’re jumping to extreme measures.”
Then she grabbed Owen by the back of his shirt and pushed him off the ledge.
“Aaah!” he screamed, terror exploding through his body as he fell into nothingness. He paused in midair just like last time, only this time the girl didn’t yank him back to the wall. Instead, she left him hanging there, her grip on his shirt the only thing keeping him from splatting.
“Let us go or I drop the kid!” the girl shouted at the assembled police. “I swear I’ll do it!”
“No dropping!” Owen shouted, his heart trying to break his chest open.
“If he falls,” Kiel said, his voice low and scary, “you go next.”
“Turn off those spotlights!” the girl shouted, then turned to the police officer in the window. “And you, back inside. Now!”
The police officer glared at her, but slowly retreated back into the window, while below the spotlights clicked off one by one.
“Don’t you love when plans just go perfectly?” the girl asked quietly, her voice back to normal. She pulled Owen back onto the ledge, and he pushed against the building as hard as he could, so thankful to feel hard concrete.
“Never do that again!” he hissed at her, his voice cracking.
“No promises,” she said with a huge smile. “Let’s go. Don’t fall behind, MK.”
“Would you call me Kiel?” Kiel whispered, but started sliding along the ledge again.
“On the side of the building, there’s a drainpipe,” the girl whispered to them. “We’re going to climb up it to the roof.”
The roof? Climbing? A drainpipe? “Other than that being a great way to die, won’t we just be trapped up there?” Owen asked, trying to be as polite as possible to this crazy person.
“You’d think so!” she told him. “I guess we’ll see!” She pushed his shoulder again, and Owen sidled on down the ledge until he was just out of sight of the police below.
This side of the building was empty, filled mostly with garbage cans, and surrounded on two sides by bushes. The third side was an open alley down the block, and even from this high, Owen could hear running feet. They wouldn’t be out of sight for long.
“Up we go,” The girl shoved him into the drainpipe, then playfully kicked him in the bottom.
“Stop that!” he whispered as angrily as he could, then began climbing, trying not to look down. The pipe was small, yes, but it was firmly latched into place, which made for convenient footholds. This girl had done her research. Either that, or she had gotten lucky. Owen didn’t particularly want to know which.
After a harrowing fight against gravity, Owen pulled his trembling body up and over the edge of the roof and tumbled down onto it. He considered kissing the roof, like he’d seen people do when they landed from crazy plane rides, but honestly, it looked pretty disgusting, so he passed.
A moment later the other two joined him, neither one having any trouble with the climb.
“Now what?” Owen asked, trying to cover the fear in his voice.
“Now you see where some of your money is going,” the girl said, looking proud of herself as she pointed back down. Owen groaned, then pushed himself to his feet, and with a tight hold on the edge of the roof, looked down.
On the ground below, a girl and two boys about their size jumped out from between the garbage cans and pushed through the bushes, just as police officers reached the alley.
“Stop!” the officers shouted, and Owen heard one talking into his radio. “They’re on the street, on foot, heading for Alexander Road.” The officers sprinted past the garbage cans and pushed through the bushes, following the fleeing kids.
Owen stepped back away from the roof and turned slowly toward the girl, staring at her in awe. “You have . . . decoys?”
The girl shrugged. “Minions, really. I’ve worked with them before. Quality henchpeople. Five stars, would hire again.”
“But the police will be able to see that we’re not them,” Kiel said, then mumbled something about “Not even a disguise spell or anything.”
“Not in the dark,” she said, looking far too excited. “Besides, they won’t catch up. My people have done this before. We give them two minutes, then climb down the drainpipe and head in the opposite direction. See? Perfect plan! And it was so easy! Then you just pay me the rest of what you owe me, and we all hug, maybe a few tears, promise to stay in touch, and then we go home!”
“. . . Pay you?” Owen said.
The girl’s smile slowly faded, and her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have the other half of the gold ?”
“Other half?” Owen said, a second before the memory slammed into him like a freight train to the face, and he fell backward onto the roof. Kiel managed to stay on his feet, but didn’t look any happier.
“Are you okay?” the girl said, helping Owen stand up. “What keeps happening to you two?”
“Memories,” Kiel said.
“I know who you are,” Owen told her quietly. “I remember now!”
The girl give him a confused smile. “And who exactly am I, then?”
Owen swallowed hard. “You’re my backup plan. You’re a Moriarty.”
MISSING CHAPTER 7
Yesterday . . .
Our backup plan,” Owen whispered from their hiding spot in the bushes, nodding at the girl with long black hair being led out of a police station in handcuffs. A detective unlocked her cuffs, then sighed, putting his keys away as he sat down on the steps of the police station.
For a moment the girl just looked at him sadly, then started to walk away, but the detective called for her. “Moira
Gonzalez,” he said, “get back here.”
The girl froze. “You already questioned me. What more do you want?”
“That was the official interrogation,” the detective said, patting the stairs next to him. “This is for me.”
Moira turned around and slowly walked back, then dropped to the stair beside the detective.
“She’s a criminal?” Bethany asked.
“Sort of,” Owen said. “She’s trying not to be, but she’s the great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter of Professor Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes’s greatest enemy. So she’s got crazy natural talent.”
“Do you want to talk about this?” the detective asked the girl.
“Not even a little bit,” she said, her chin on her palms as she watched traffic go by.
The detective nodded. “I know you want to find your mother. But she’s gone, M. And everything you did to find her just led you here.”
Bethany seemed to stiffen next to Owen, and he realized too late the similarities. Ugh. Still, the damage was done. And maybe Bethany would be more willing to get Moira’s help with so much in common?
“Her mother is Moriarty’s descendent,” Owen whispered. “Her dad, on the other hand . . .”
“Is that all, Detective Gonzalez?” Moira asked, not looking at her father.
“I miss her too, you know,” the detective said, putting his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Every day. But your mom made terrible choices in life, probably including marrying me. The only good thing that came from it is you, and I’m not going to let even her memory change that. I know you’re not like her, M. You’re too good a person to keep . . . well . . .”
“Breaking the law?” Moira said. “I’m trying, Dad. I really am. I know it doesn’t look like it—”
“You just robbed four banks—”
“They got their money back!” Moira said, then grinned at him. “It was way too easy, by the way. They should thank me for highlighting their weaknesses—”
“Moira!”
“I know, okay?” she said, her smile disappearing. “I just thought maybe mom was watching, to see if I had what it took. I thought she might have noticed if I did something big.”
Her father sighed. “Your mother loves you, Moira. And let’s hope she’s staying away because she’s trying to do the right thing, which is not bring you into her world. But I need you to stop this. You’re lucky none of the charges stuck. You think I want to investigate my own daughter?”
“They’d never have put you on the case, Dad,” Moira said, grinning at him. “You know that’s a conflict of interest.”
The detective stared at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’m sorry.” She paused. “But just so we’re clear, none of the charges stuck because I’m really good. You know that, right?”
Her father glared at her for a second, then smiled. “Yes, fine, you were amazing.”
“Woo!” she shouted, and threw her arms around him. “That’s all I want. Take pride in what you’ve got, Dad!”
He laughed and hugged her back, then pulled away. “You know I am proud of you, right? You can do so much with your life, and I just don’t want you following your mom down the wrong path. Promise me, M. Promise me you’ll be good from now on.”
Moira sighed loudly. “I mean, what’s ‘good’ exactly?”
“No law breaking, no criminal activity of any kind, and definitely no bank robbing!”
“Fine, I promise,” Moira said, shaking her head sadly. “But you’re definitely going to need to raise my allowance then. I needed that extra cash from the banks!”
Her father stared at her hard.
“We’ll talk about it,” she said, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“Remember, you promised,” her dad told her, standing up.
“I know, I know,” she said, standing up too and hugging him. “See you tonight.”
“Let’s make it at home this time, instead of in jail,” the detective said, then tousled her hair and walked back into the police station.
“That’s the end of the book right there,” Owen whispered, staying hidden in the bushes as Moira came closer.
“This is the girl you want to help us against Doyle?” Bethany hissed as Moira passed by. “She’s a criminal!”
“So was I,” Kiel said, grinning at her. “Don’t you trust me ?”
“That’s different,” Bethany told him. “You were stealing to live. She’s doing it because it’s fun. And because . . . she’s trying to find—”
“She’s perfect!” Owen lied, trying to avoid the topic of Moira’s missing mother. “She’s like Doyle’s opposite. I’m surprised they’re not in the same series. They’re both descended from some of the greatest minds who ever lived. Who better to help us?”
“He’s right,” Moira said from the sidewalk. “You clearly need help if you’re trying to be inconspicuous.” She turned around and gave them an excited look. “Please tell me you’re from my mother?”
For a moment, not a proud one, the thought of answering yes passed through Owen’s head. It’d get her help, wouldn’t it? And maybe Bethany could actually find her mother in the book somewhere.
One look at Bethany’s face killed that thought, though. “Uh, no. We were hoping to hire you, actually.”
“Owen,” Bethany hissed at him, but before she could say anything else, Moira grabbed Owen by his shirt with both hands and kissed his forehead.
“Thank you!” she shouted. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve done something I shouldn’t?! I’m so bored I’ve been wondering if I’m in a coma!”
“It’s not anything criminal,” Owen said, blushing hard from her kiss. “We just want you to be ready in case we need your help with anything. We’re investigating this guy—”
“You want me to rob him?” Moira said, her eyes widening. “No, identify theft?” She gasped, then frowned. “You don’t want me to kill him, do you? I’ve got a line. Though I might be able to recommend someone—”
“Whoa!” Bethany shouted. “Definitely no killing!”
“I can’t tell you too much,” Owen said. “But we’re going to this school, the Baker Street School for Irregular Children, and—”
“I’ve heard of that,” Moira said, shrugging. “You trying to break someone out? That’s always fun! I haven’t done a breakout in, like, weeks!”
Owen froze. She’d heard of that? How could she have heard of a school in a different book? “Uh, no, no breakouts,” he said, trying to stay on track. “Just, like, protection—”
“You want me to make the school pay protection money?” she said, frowning. “I might need a bunch of muscle for this, then. How much can you pay?”
“Owen,” Bethany said, yanking him backward, “this is a bad idea!”
“Just backup, not a protection racket,” Owen said quickly. “Do you . . . know who runs the Baker Street School?”
Moira shrugged. “I don’t know, a principal? Who cares. It’s like juvie for big-timers. I’ve heard some of the older kids talking about it. They’re all afraid, so I think the cops use it to scare them.” She smirked. “Don’t worry, it’s not a concern. I never get caught.”
“You just got caught now,” Kiel said, nodding at the police station.
“Ha, good point!” Moira said, and smacked his shoulder. “But I’m free, aren’t I? I never get charged. Speaking of charging, this is going to cost a lot. My fee, travel expenses—though I’ll probably just steal a car—and incidentals. Let’s call it ten grand.”
“What?!” Bethany shouted.
“Would you take gold?” Owen asked, taking a step away from Bethany.
“What?!” Bethany shouted, this time at Owen.
He gave her an embarrassed look, then handed her a page from Kiel Gnomenfoot, Magic Thief, specifically the page talking about the dragon’s lair filled with treasure, within which Kiel and Charm were going to have to find their first key.
“The dragon
won’t miss it,” Owen pointed out.
Bethany just stared at him, her mouth opening and closing. She was never going to go for this, he realized. This was breaking way too many rules. But this was all he had. He didn’t have Kiel’s magic or her power, so all Owen could do was try to be clever and come up with plans. And this one actually made sense, sort of. You fought fire with fire.
“Fine,” Bethany whispered, and turned around.
“Gold’s good,” Moira said, trying to see over Bethany’s shoulder. “I’ll have to look up the exchange rate . . .”
“Do the math later,” Bethany said, passing her a handful of gold coins.
Moira’s eyes lit up. “This is probably close to half . . .”
Bethany turned away, then dumped another bunch into Moira’s hands. “We’ll get you the rest after the job, then.”
Moira nodded, not looking at her. “I’m just so happy right now. So, so happy. So, so, so!”
“Didn’t you make your father a promise?” Bethany asked her, and Owen sighed. He knew she’d agreed too easily.
“Sure,” Moira said, not looking up from the gold. “And I kept it all the way over to you guys. That’s a lot for me!”
“Be at the school tonight,” Owen said. “And make sure you don’t let anyone see you.”
This finally made Moira glance up. “You’re just adorable, you silly little man,” she said. “I just want to eat you alive for saying something so cute. No one sees me when I don’t want them to. Trust me, I’m an expert!”
They exchanged phone numbers, so Owen could call her in case of emergency while they were in the school. Then Moira turned and walked away, murmuring to her gold. “You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” She held it up to her face. “So pretty and shiny and worth so much.”
“Thank you for going along with this,” Owen told Bethany as she took his and Kiel’s hands, ready to jump them out.
Bethany looked at him for a moment like she wanted to say something, then sighed. “I don’t even know what to say anymore. Everything’s weird and crazy now, Owen. Let’s just hope this all works out.”
He nodded, inwardly screaming at himself over Moira’s mother. Why hadn’t he looked closer at her story? The last thing he wanted to do was make Bethany’s life worse.