Joe looked panicked, so I stepped in. “Sports are really more Joe’s thing,” I said quickly. “I’ve always been a little embarrassed when I try to play. I . . . uh . . . drop the ball a lot in baseball. That kind of thing.”
“And he’s a terrible hitter,” Joe agreed.
I’d get him for that later!
“I guess what I mean is that I don’t think I’m a bad athlete. I just get self-conscious when I know people are watching me. And that makes me klutzy.”
This was hard, pretending to be insecure. One thing our parents always drilled into Joe and me was that we could do anything we set our minds to. I was starting to realize how unusual that kind of self-confidence was. Suddenly I felt lucky. But I also felt like we might have blown our chance to go undercover here at the Rising Phoenix.
Did Huang buy my story?
He studied me for a long time, then smiled. “I think you’ll find that karate gives you a certain inner balance, Frank,” he said. “It will keep your focus on what you’re doing, not on who’s watching you.”
I smiled gratefully. I kinda thought that was a good opportunity for us to get out of there and let Huang forget about us for a while, but Joe pushed on.
“Sensei, what is your training?” he asked. “Did you go to school here?”
Huang looked at his watch. “I have extensive training, Joe, but unfortunately I don’t have time to talk about it right now. Maybe another time.” He gave us a farewell nod and disappeared into his office.
“Isn’t he cool?” Chet said as we headed back into the locker room to grab our stuff.
“Yeah. He doesn’t talk about himself much, though,” Joe commented.
On the way outside, Chet pulled me aside. “I never knew you felt self-conscious playing sports, Frank,” he said.
I felt bad for lying to my friend, but what could I do? We were here on a mission, and that meant lying sometimes. “Not as self-conscious as I feel around girls,” I joked.
“I hear you.” Chet gave us a wave and walked over to his mother’s car. She was parked near the curb, waiting for him.
Joe and I hopped on our motorcycles and pulled on our helmets. “What do you think?” my brother asked before we took off.
“I think Huang is a little too weird for me,” I said. “I don’t know what he’s up to, but I get the feeling it’s something we won’t like.”
5
Too Quiet
“And where do you boys think you’re going at this hour?” Aunt Trudy demanded on Monday morning.
Busted!
I turned around, tucking my motorcycle helmet under my arm. The kitchen clock said 6:35. Who knew our aunt got up so early?
“To school,” Frank said, looking innocent the way only he can.
Aunt Trudy snorted. “School doesn’t start for an hour and a half,” she pointed out.
“Early birds! Early birds!” Playback chimed in.
“Yeah, but we have a project due at the end of the week,” I said. “We want to get some time in on it before classes this morning.”
Aunt Trudy frowned. “Since when do you two have a class together?”
Frank shot me a look, and I shrugged. So I didn’t always think through my cover stories. So what? Frank always came up with a way to save me.
“It’s not a class project, Aunt Trudy,” he said. “It’s for the Science Club. We’re working on an experiment with Chet, and we need to get into the lab so we can use the equipment before the chem classes need it.”
Aunt Trudy kept right on frowning. She does that a lot. “Did you eat breakfast?” she demanded.
“No,” I admitted. Frank shook his head.
“Well, at least take a banana.” Aunt Trudy shoved one at Frank and one at me. “And get yourselves some orange juice when you get to school.”
“We will. Thanks!” I was out the door before she could think of any more questions to ask us.
In a minute we were on our bikes and heading for the South Coast Hospital. Visiting hours started at seven and we wanted to be there. We had to talk to John Mangione. He was the first Rising Phoenix student who’d ended up hurt.
Unfortunately, the nurse didn’t want to let us upstairs. “Are you family?” he asked, looking us up and down.
“Well, no,” I replied. “We’re friends of John’s.”
“No visitors except family,” the nurse said, and he went back to reading his morning paper.
Great.
I glanced around. The nurse’s station was right in front of the elevators. There was no way we could sneak by this guy.
“But we’re here on behalf of everyone at John’s martial arts school,” I told him. “All the kids chipped in and bought him a present, and we’re supposed to deliver it.” I held up my backpack as if there was a gift inside. I just hoped the nurse didn’t ask to see it.
He squinted at the backpack, then looked back at me. I did my best to look as sweet and innocent as my brother.
And it worked!
“Oh, all right,” the nurse grumbled. He checked a chart in front of him. “Room 1603. Don’t stay too long.”
“We won’t, sir. Thank you,” Frank said. I hit the up button on the elevator. Soon enough we were face-to-face with John Mangione. He looked pretty wasted. His skin was pale and waxy, and his eyes were bloodshot. Still, he wasn’t as small and thin as the photo on the ATAC disc had made him look. In fact, he was pretty buff. Before he’d ended up in the hospital, he was probably a strong guy.
“Do I know you?” John asked. He crossed his arms and looked at us suspiciously.
“No. I’m Joe Hardy and this is my brother, Frank,” I said. “We’re students at the Rising Phoenix.”
John squinted. I could tell he was trying to place us.
“We’re also sort of amateur detectives,” Frank said. That’s our typical cover story—we never tell anyone about ATAC. It’s top secret. “And we have a feeling there’s something strange going down at the Rising Phoenix.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” John said quickly.
Too quickly.
“How long were you a student there?” I asked.
“Since it opened. About a year, I guess,” he said warily.
“Did you like Sensei Huang?” Frank asked.
“Yeah.” John sat up straight in bed. “He was great. When I started, I was just this wimpy little dweeb. But Sensei Huang taught me to stand up for myself. It changed my life.”
I glanced at his biceps, which were bigger than mine. Hard to believe he’d been a “wimpy little dweeb” only a year ago. “You must have taken a lot of classes,” I commented.
“It was my whole life,” John said. “I made it to green belt level. I took classes three days a week, and on my off days I worked out at the gym at school.” He punched the sheet in frustration. “Now the doctors say I can’t exert myself that much again.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I was doing my morning jog and I just collapsed,” John said. “I don’t really remember much. I felt dizzy, and everything went black. I woke up in the hospital.”
“What did the doctors say?” Frank asked.
“They called it a heart episode.” John rolled his eyes. “Whatever that means.”
“Sounds pretty serious,” I said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I get to be alive but I can’t do the thing I love the most. It’s messed up!” He punched the sheet again.
“But you’re so young, and you’re in good shape. Why would you have a heart episode?” Frank asked. “Is there heart disease in your family or something?”
John scowled at us. “Why do you care? Who are you guys, anyway?”
“We’re just—” I began.
“I thought you wanted to know about the Rising Phoenix. What does that have to do with my health?” he demanded.
That’s what we’re trying to figure out, I thought.
“Has Sensei Huang been to see you since you�
�ve been here?” Frank asked.
John winced.
“Did he come visit?” I pressed.
“Look, just get out of here,” John snapped. “I have nothing to say to you guys.” He turned over in bed and faced the wall, ignoring us.
Frank shrugged. “Hope you feel better soon,” he told John. Then we left.
“That’s one angry dude,” I said as we left the hospital.
“That’s also one close-mouthed dude,” Frank replied. “He didn’t give a single specific detail about what happened to him, or why he collapsed.”
“Let’s hope the other guy is more talkative,” I said. “Or else we won’t even know what kind of case we’re working on.”
“Excuse me?” I ran to catch up with a girl on her way out of Holtsville High School that afternoon. “Can you help us?”
The girl came over, smiling.
“We’re looking for someone,” I said. “Russell Olwell. Do you know him?”
“Not really. I know who he is, though. Everybody does, since he got mugged. They made us all sit through a self-defense and safety lecture because of him.”
“Bummer,” I said. “But you know, we’re actually here to do a report about that mugging.”
“Are you journalists or something?” she asked.
I nodded. “Think you can point me toward Russell?”
She scanned the parking lot. Tons of students were pouring out of the school and heading for their rides. “Oh, there he is!” She pointed to a short, thin guy with his arm in a cast.
“Thanks.” I gave the girl a wink and headed off toward Russell.
Frank followed. “Who is that with him?” he asked, worried.
I glanced at the tall, pretty redhead with Russell. She was unlocking the passenger door of a Volkswagen Jetta for him.
“Dunno,” I said. “But she’s too cute to be his girlfriend.”
Frank shot me a disapproving look. He thinks I’m shallow. I ignored him and put on my most charming smile. “Hi, guys,” I said as we approached the Jetta. “I’m Joe and this is my brother, Frank.”
The girl’s eyes skipped over me, landed on Frank—and stayed there. Uh-oh. I knew that look. That was the look of another girl falling for my romantically challenged brother. It was so unfair. I possessed all the flirting skills in the family, but Frank seemed to possess the chick magnet.
“Who are you?” Russell asked suspiciously.
His voice caught my attention and I stopped looking at the redhead. Instead I took in Russell’s face for the first time. The dude was in bad shape. He had a black eye and a nasty bruise along his jawbone. In addition to the broken arm, there was obviously something wrong with his leg—he was struggling to get himself into the car, wincing every time he bent his knee.
“Russ, wait for me to help,” the girl said. She grabbed his good arm and eased him down into the passenger seat so he didn’t have to put weight on his leg. Then she turned to Frank. “Listen, my brother’s hurt. I don’t know what you guys want, but I really need to get him home.”
Frank turned bright red. “S-sorry,” he stammered.
“This won’t take long,” I assured her. “We just wanted to find out what happened. You’re Russell’s sister?”
“Samantha,” she said.
“Are you telling me you didn’t hear about it?” Russell asked, sounding annoyed. “I thought everyone in school knew what happened.”
“We go to Bayport High,” Frank replied.
“Well, I got mugged. Okay? That’s the whole story.” Russell reached for the door handle.
“Where?” I asked quickly. “Who did it?”
Samantha narrowed her eyes at us. “Why do you want to know?” she asked. “Why did you come all the way over here from Bayport?”
“We’re, uh, detectives,” Frank managed to say, not looking her in the eye. “We were hoping we could help.”
“We’ve solved a lot of cases,” I added. As if that would help here.
“There’s nothing to solve. I got beat up,” Russell said.
“He was at his martial arts school,” Samantha added. “The Rising Phoenix. Some guy attacked him in the parking lot.”
“Sam,” Russell snapped. “Let’s go.”
“How long had you been studying at the Rising Phoenix?” Frank asked.
Russell just slammed the car door closed.
“Wow,” I said. “Nobody wants to talk about the Rising Phoenix today.”
“That’s what it’s about, right?” Samantha said suddenly. “It’s that school!”
“What are you talking about?” Frank asked.
“My brother took classes there for a few months, and it was all he could talk about. He loved that teacher and he was so psyched. Then all of a sudden he stopped talking about it, he looked totally scared all the time, and a week later? He got attacked! Right in the school parking lot.” She took a step closer to Frank. “Something bad is happening there, right?”
Frank took a step back. “We don’t know.”
“Well, I’m gonna find out,” Samantha declared. “Enough of this guesswork. I’m going to sign up for a class and see for myself.”
“Hey,” I said, “we can find out what’s going on there.” The last thing we needed was another member of this family getting involved with Huang’s school.
She looked doubtful.
“You’d stand out too much,” Frank said. “Sensei Huang wouldn’t trust you. You’re, uh, not the type he wants there.”
Samantha’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yeah? What type is that?”
“My brother just means you’re too confident and pretty,” I said, ignoring Frank’s embarrassed gasp. “Sensei Huang prefers to teach . . . well . . . people like your brother. He doesn’t want well-adjusted students.”
She looked at me like I was nuts. Which seemed reasonable, since the whole entrance criteria seemed nuts.
She turned to Frank for confirmation. “It’s true,” he said. “And besides, if the school was somehow involved with Russell’s mugging, it would be dangerous for you to be there.”
“Fine. But I want you to call me if you find anything out,” she said. She pulled out a pen, grabbed Frank’s hand, and scribbled a number on his palm.
I thought my brother was going to pass out from the stress of actually being touched by a girl, but he managed to stay strong.
The horn honked. Russell was getting impatient.
“I better go,” Samantha said, speaking to Frank as if I wasn’t even there. “Good luck.”
“Nice job,” I said, clapping my brother on the back. “You practically got a date with her!”
“Shut up,” Frank replied. “All she wants are some answers about her brother.”
“He didn’t seem particularly interested in helping us find any answers,” I pointed out. “Weird, huh? ATAC said these two injured kids didn’t have anything obvious in common. But I’ve noticed one similarity.”
“Me too,” Frank said grimly. “Neither one of them is willing to talk about what happened to them.”
6
Dough-Jo
“Ready for our first karate class?” I asked Joe on Tuesday afternoon. We were at the dojo, and all geared up.
“Definitely,” he said. “But really? I’m ready to find some leads on this case.” He pushed open the door to the boys’ locker room and led the way inside.
“Let’s split up,” I murmured. “We can cover more ground that way.”
Joe nodded and headed for the back of the locker room to get changed. I stayed near the entrance. That way I could see whoever came in. Plus, there was a second door that led into the bathroom. And right now, that was the most interesting room in the whole Rising Phoenix school, since it was a hub of activity.
As I pulled open a locker, I noticed Billy Lee in the bathroom. He was already dressed in his gi. And he looked kind of freaked. I backed up and sat down on the wooden bench between the lockers, hoping to get a better view of the bathroom.
Finn Campbell stood near the sinks, arms crossed, talking to Billy.
That’s the second time he’s been on Billy’s case since we met them, I thought. I scooted over to the end of the bench, trying to hear Finn. But it was hopeless—the sounds of other students laughing, talking, and clanging their lockers open and shut totally drowned out the conversation in the bathroom.
I moved slowly, pulling off my sneakers and socks, purposely dawdling so I could keep an eye on Billy. He was arguing now, his face red, his eyes bulging. In fact, he was yelling at Finn.
“Good for you, Billy,” I murmured.
“. . . not fair!” Billy’s voice carried in from the bathroom. “You should have told me!”
“Man, you’re slow,” Joe cried, appearing next to me in his gi. “Hurry it up.”
“Shh,” I hissed. I nodded toward the bathroom. Billy had stopped arguing. He pulled a twenty-dollar bill from underneath the belt of his gi and offered it to Finn.
Finn shook his head, looking disgusted.
“What’s going on?” Joe asked.
“I’m not sure. They’re fighting again,” I said.
“Well, I don’t think a twenty is gonna cover Billy’s tuition,” Joe murmured.
Finn didn’t seem to think so either. He leaned over and got right in Billy’s face, snarling something I couldn’t hear. Then he snatched the twenty and stormed out of the bathroom.
Joe jumped to his feet. “I’ll see you out there, slowpoke,” he said as if we were finishing a conversation we’d been having all along.
Finn jumped a little, surprised to see anyone so close to the bathroom. He shot a glance back at Billy, then pasted a smile on his face.
“The Hardys,” he greeted us. “Enjoy your first class.” He disappeared into the hallway. Joe followed him.
I quickly pulled on my gi and slammed the locker closed. Billy was still in the bathroom, splashing water on his face. I went in and pretended to be checking out my gi in the mirror. “Hey, Billy. What’s up?” I said casually.
He glared at me. “Nothing,” he snapped. He ran out before I could even react. What had happened to the nice, welcoming guy from the other day?
Martial Law Page 4