by Ellie O'Ryan
“All right,” Hannah relented. But she didn’t look happy about it.
After another ten minutes, Corey finally spotted Whitney sauntering toward them. “Here she comes,” he said, nudging Hannah’s arm. “Better late than never, right?”
“If you say so,” Hannah said under her breath.
“Cor-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!” Whitney called out in a singsong voice. “Hey!”
Club CSI waited for Whitney to apologize for being so late. But she just stood there.
“Everything okay?” Corey asked. “I thought we were meeting right after school?”
Whitney shrugged. “I had a cheerleading meeting.”
“Cheerleading?” Corey said. “But football and basketball seasons are over.”
“Silly!” Whitney cried with a big smile. “Cheerleading isn’t just for other sports. We have stuff going on all year. And a ton of really important competitions. Regionals are in, like, three weeks! I know we’re going to place this year. Have you ever been to one of our meets?”
Corey shook his head.
Whitney flashed him another smile. “Oh, you totally have to come to Regionals!”
Hannah cleared her throat. “Can we talk about your case? I don’t mean to be rude; it’s just that we’ve been waiting, well, a long time—”
Whitney looked at Ben and Hannah like she was just noticing that they were there. “So, go ahead and do . . . whatever it is you do. I’m here to meet with Corey,” she said coolly.
“Whitney, I’m kind of confused,” Ben said, frowning. “Corey said you have a problem. Club CSI is ready to help. But we can’t help if you won’t tell us what’s going on.”
“We’re a team,” added Corey.
Whitney looked from Corey to Ben to Hannah and then back to Corey. She finally seemed to realize they were a package deal. “Fine,” she said and then leaned in close and whispered, “Someone is out to get me.”
“That sounds really serious,” Ben replied at once. “Why don’t you start from the beginning and tell us everything. Don’t leave anything out—even if it seems trivial or unimportant.”
“Tell you everything?” repeated Whitney.
“Everything,” Corey confirmed.
“Uh . . . it’s just, uh, like a feeling I have,” Whitney mumbled.
“A feeling?” Hannah asked skeptically.
“Yeah,” Whitney said. “I just know that someone is plotting something.”
“Okay,” Corey said slowly. “But, well, why do you think that?”
“Because . . . of my, um, locker. Someone, uh, someone broke into it!” Whitney exclaimed.
“That’s awful,” Corey said sympathetically. “Was anything stolen?”
“Well . . . no,” Whitney admitted.
“Any vandalism?” asked Hannah.
“Was the lock tampered with?” Ben questioned. “Were there any signs of forced entry?”
“Well, you know, no,” Whitney said, glancing away from the others. “I mean, maybe. It’s, um, hard to tell.”
“It’s hard to tell if your locker was broken into?” Hannah asked skeptically.
“Excuse me,” Whitney shot back. “I didn’t do anything wrong! Why are you grilling me like this?”
“We’re just trying to figure out if a crime has been committed,” Ben said calmly.
Whitney turned to Corey. “Will you come to my locker, Corey?” she asked, completely shutting out Ben and Hannah. “So you can, I don’t know, fingerprint it? Or whatever?”
“See, Whitney, here’s the thing,” Ben began. “It doesn’t sound like a crime has actually happened. Or, at least, there’s no evidence of a crime right now, so fingerprinting the locker wouldn’t tell us much.”
“But if somebody’s gross fingerprints are all over my locker—” Whitney argued.
“Honestly, we wouldn’t launch an investigation without knowing for certain that something had happened,” Ben continued. “But if anything does happen—”
“Club CSI will definitely investigate,” said Corey, giving Whitney a little reassuring smile.
“Okay, I guess,” Whitney said slowly.
“See you later,” Corey said as Club CSI turned to leave. As soon as they were certain that Whitney was out of earshot, Ben and Corey began talking quietly about their strange meeting with the most popular girl at Woodlands Junior High. Hannah, though, took one last glance over her shoulder. Whitney was still standing in the same spot, staring into the distance with her eyes narrowed.
There was something else that Hannah had noticed about Whitney during their conversation: She hadn’t made eye contact with any of the members of Club CSI when she told them about her locker. Hannah didn’t want to read too much into it, but she couldn’t help remembering what Miss Hodges had taught them in class earlier that day. And if Whitney was lying about someone breaking into her locker . . . what, exactly, did she want from Club CSI?
Chapter 3
The next morning there was a surprise waiting for Corey at his locker.
Whitney Martino!
“Corey!” she exclaimed. “Someone—someone—someone—”
Corey had never seen a girl this upset before. Her lips were trembling, and even her hands were shaking. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down,” he said. “What’s wrong, Whitney?”
“Someone broke into my locker!” Whitney cried.
“You’re sure?” asked Corey.
Whitney nodded emphatically. “Yes. Absolutely. It happened! I know it! Someone broke into my locker and vandalized it!”
“Oh man,” Corey replied. “I’m so sorry, Whitney. This is definitely Club CSI territory. Go wait by your locker—I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you,” Whitney said. Her voice even wavered a bit as though she was about to cry.
Corey ran down the hall to get Hannah and Ben. “Guys. Someone definitely broke into Whitney’s locker and vandalized it,” he reported. “I told her we would come check it out before class.”
“Wow, I guess her suspicions were right,” Ben said. He zipped open the inside pouch of his backpack to make sure he had some standard investigation supplies: rubber gloves, tweezers, and small plastic bags for holding evidence.
Club CSI hurried through the hallway toward Whitney’s locker. They stopped in front of it and stared.
“Am I missing something?” Hannah asked Ben in a low voice. “Her locker looks fine to me.”
“Yeah, the outside does,” Whitney snapped as she walked up behind them. She pushed past Hannah and Ben, then twirled the lock and opened the door.
“Thanks for rushing over here so quickly, Corey,” Whitney said sweetly as the members of Club CSI tried to get a good look inside her locker.
“Uh, you’re welcome,” said Corey. He wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe his face turned slightly pink.
At first glance, things seemed fine inside Whitney’s locker too. Every surface of her locker was decorated. It had a sparkly minichandelier swinging from the top and a shaggy hot-pink rug at the bottom. There was a mirror covered in pink glitter and a notepad where Whitney’s friends left her notes like “U R THE BEST, WHIT!” The locker’s walls were crowded with photos of Whitney, the cheerleading squad, and all her friends. It wasn’t easy for Club CSI to immediately spot the vandalism through all the clutter.
But when Whitney pointed at a photo of herself and her best friend, Alyssa, the vandalism was obvious to everyone. Someone had drawn all over Whitney’s face with a marker, using it to black out her teeth, give her a shaggy beard, and even add a pig’s snout over her nose.
“Who would do something like this?” Whitney asked dramatically. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”
Club CSI secretly thought Whitney was over-reacting a little, but they would treat the case as seriously as any other.
“Whitney, do you mind if I take some photos of your locker?” Hannah asked as she pulled out her cell phone. “It’s important to document the crime scene exactly as
it was found.”
Whitney shook her head.
Ben pulled on a pair of gloves. “Let me take a look at the lock,” he said, peering at it as he spun the dial a few times. Ben remembered what Club CSI had learned about locks on another case, when they had interviewed a locksmith. Ben guessed that a metal combination lock like the one embedded in Whitney’s locker would be hard to pick, and he was right.
“I don’t see any signs of obvious tampering,” Ben told the others. “I’m guessing whoever did this either knew, or guessed, your combination. But I’ll come back to fingerprint your locker after school. There’s just not time to do it now.”
“Can’t Corey do that?” Whitney asked.
“If you need fingerprinting, Ben is your guy,” Corey said quickly. “He’s really good at it.”
“Oh yeah?” Whitney asked. She gave Corey a little smile. “What’s your specialty, Corey? Besides being a great football player.”
Corey looked down at his feet. “Um, I guess I kind of have a way with people,” he said, trying not to brag. “So I usually take the lead in interviews.”
“Oh, I can definitely see that,” said Whitney. “You’re the coolest guy in the seventh grade.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Speaking of having a way with people,” she said loudly, “Whitney, do you know of anyone at school who might have a problem with you? Anyone who might want to do something like this?”
“Nope. Nobody,” Whitney said.
Hannah gave her a pointed look. “Nobody? Really? Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely sure,” Whitney replied firmly, finally facing Hannah. “Maybe you missed it, but I was just voted Most Popular—again.”
“Does anybody know the combination to your locker?” Ben jumped in.
“Yeah,” Whitney said slowly. “My best friend, Alyssa, does. But she would never, ever do anything like this. Ever. I mean, she’s the one who gave me that picture.” She seemed distracted by Corey, who was scribbling something in his notebook. “What are you writing down?”
Corey glanced up. “Just making some notes for when I interview Alyssa later,” he explained.
“But I just told you that she wouldn’t do this,” Whitney said. “There’s, like, no reason for you to interview her. I really don’t want you talking to her.”
Corey frowned. “But the interviews are—”
“Come on, Corey! I don’t want you talking to her! Why is that a problem?” demanded Whitney.
“How about I interview Alyssa?” Hannah asked.
“Yeah. Let her do it,” Whitney said at once. “And then you guys can meet me here after school. For the fingerprinting.”
Just then the bell rang. It was time for homeroom. Whitney slammed her locker shut, spun the dial, and then lifted the latch—just to make sure it was really locked.
“So it sounds like we have a plan,” Ben said as he peeled off his gloves. “Whitney, try not to use your locker until after we’ve dusted for prints. We’ll meet back here after school.” Then he paused and glanced at Whitney. “Right after school.”
For a minute, Whitney looked like she was about to say something snarky. But instead she simply nodded her head and walked off to homeroom.
Chapter 4
Despite Whitney’s assurances that she would be on time, Ben and Corey expected her to be late again when they met her at her locker after school. But they were wrong. This time, Whitney was waiting for them, leaning against the long row of lockers like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
“Hey, Corey,” Whitney said with her usual dazzling smile. Then she glanced over toward Ben and said, “Hey . . . ” It was almost as if she’d forgotten his name.
“So I didn’t use my locker for the whole rest of the day,” Whitney continued. “Just like you asked.”
“Great,” said Ben. “I want to check inside your locker for any evidence, but first let me dust the outside and lock for fingerprints.”
Corey watched as Ben got to work, and Whitney watched Corey. “So, Corey,” Whitney began, “thanks so much for helping me. You’re the best.”
“No problem,” Corey replied. “Club CSI is always happy to help a fellow student.”
“I’m thinking of having a party in a few weeks,” Whitney added. “You’ll definitely be invited.”
“Oh” was all Corey said in response. There was an awkward silence before Ben stood up.
“All right. I found a print and a partial on the lock. I’ll analyze them later.” Ben gestured toward the lock. “Do you mind opening it up for me, Whitney?”
Whitney spun the dial to enter her combination and then swung open her locker door. Ben stared into her locker, frowning, as he tried to figure out the best plan of action. He had a feeling Whitney wouldn’t be happy to see him cover the inside of her locker with black and white dusting powder.
Finally, Ben decided to check the metal edges of the locker door next—the one surface Whitney hadn’t decorated. He thought there was a good chance that the vandal might have touched the edge of the door to open it. Ben carefully dipped his brush into the container of black powder and dusted it over the surface.
Whitney seemed supremely uninterested in Ben’s fingerprinting process.
“So I was thinking,” she said to Corey. “After? When this is all done? We could go get something to eat.”
“Just a sec,” Corey said, stepping forward to take a picture of any prints that appeared under the dust.
“Hey, you know, there’s something about that photo . . . ,” Ben mused, looking at the photo that had been drawn on.
Whitney’s laugh was forced. “What? How spectacularly hideous it makes me look?”
Ben shook his head. “The tape!” he suddenly exclaimed. “I bet we’ll find the vandal’s prints on the tape!”
“What—what are you talking about?” Whitney asked. She looked pale.
“Well, obviously the photo was moved at some point,” Ben explained. “You can tell how hard it would be to draw on it from this angle. So the vandal must have taken it down, drawn on it, and then taped it back up. That’s my theory, anyway. And if I’m right, we could find the vandal’s prints on the tape!”
“Good thinking, Ben,” Corey said approvingly.
But Whitney frowned. Her eyes darted off to the side. “Look, I just—I, um, I really don’t think that the vandal took down the picture. I mean, this is, uh, my locker, you know? I, uh, I look at that picture every day. I would know if it had been moved.”
“But we should check, anyway,” Ben insisted. “Just in case.”
Whitney pressed her lips into a thin line, but she didn’t argue as Ben slowly removed the photo from the inside of her locker.
“Yes!” Ben exclaimed as examined the tape. “Check it out—one complete, perfect fingerprint! We’ll definitely be able to analyze this in the lab.” He peeled off the piece of tape from the photo and secured it so that the print wouldn’t smudge.
Then Corey pulled an ink pad out of the fingerprinting kit. “And, of course, we need to get your fingerprints,” he told Whitney.
Her fists clenched. “Why? I didn’t do it,” she said in a rush.
Ben and Corey looked at each other. “No one said that,” Ben replied. “But since it’s your locker, your prints will be all over it. So we need your prints to make sure the ones we’ve lifted don’t belong to you.”
“Oh. I get it,” Whitney said. She let Corey press her fingertips onto the ink pad, then make a clear print from each finger on a plain white card. Afterward, Corey gave her an alcohol swab to remove the ink from her hands.
“I guess we’re done for now,” Ben said as he packed up the fingerprinting kit.
Whitney turned to Corey. “So, how about it?” she asked him. “You want to get something to eat? Some ice cream?”
“Ice cream. That sounds awesome,” Corey replied. Now that he thought about it, his stomach had been grumbling for his afternoon snack.
Ben shot Corey a lo
ok. If they were going to solve this case quickly, they needed to analyze the evidence today.
Corey got the hint. “But no, thanks, Whitney. Normally, I definitely would, but we’ve got to analyze these prints. And find out how Hannah’s interview went.”
“Oh,” said Whitney.
“We’ll be in touch as soon as we know more,” Ben promised. “And hopefully the vandal won’t strike again—but if they do, text me right away. Or Corey. Or Hannah.”
Whitney took out her phone, and Ben recited each of their numbers. He wasn’t positive, but it seemed like Whitney only typed in Corey’s number.
Next, Ben and Corey went straight to the lab attached to Miss Hodges’s classroom to analyze the prints. Hannah was already there, waiting for them.
“Hey, guys. How did the fingerprinting go?” she asked.
“Pretty good,” Ben replied. “We even picked up a print from the tape attached to the vandalized photo!”
“Nice work!” Hannah said. Then she pushed a card across the counter. “Since I was interviewing Alyssa, I got her fingerprints, too.”
“So you think she’s a suspect?” asked Corey.
Hannah shook her head. “Actually, no. But since she knows Whitney’s locker combo, I figured Alyssa’s prints might be on it. At least this will help us rule them out.”
“How did the interview go?” Ben said.
“It was kind of tough,” Hannah replied. “Alyssa was really upset and distracted. It was hard to keep her focused. She thought Corey should be interviewing her. I swear, she must have mentioned it four different times.”
Corey looked surprised. “Seriously? Are you for real?” he asked as a grin spread across his face. “I can’t believe the whole school is talking about my interview skills! Word is really getting around.”
“Maybe,” Hannah said. “But, anyway, back to the interview. Alyssa admitted that she knows the combination to Whitney’s locker, but she completely denies doing anything to the photo. And you know what? I believe her.”
“How come?” asked Ben.
“Well, I know I don’t have Corey’s amazing interview skills,” Hannah joked, “but I still observed her very carefully. She maintained eye contact with me the whole time, and she never stuttered or stammered or fidgeted or anything. And I also—I just have a feeling, you know? And I think that counts for something.”