by Casey Lyall
“I have a thing after school,” she said, head down, toeing at a crack in the tile floor.
“Like what?” Ivy’s things were hanging out with me and, for whatever inexplicable reason, Drama Club. By my calculations, she should be free and clear. “This is home stretch, Ivy. You want to miss out on closing the case? What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Ivy shook her head and looked up with half a smile. “My dad wanted me to do some stuff, but it can wait.”
“Are you sure?” I poked at her side. “I mean, I could try asking Miles to move any incriminating acts to tomorrow.”
“Quit it.” Ivy swatted at my hand. “Today’s fine. I can’t leave my idiot partner to pull this off on his own.”
“Hey—” She cut off my retort to pull me out of the way as someone rushed by, narrowly missing a collision. We both watched as Leyla continued down the hall, arms so full of yearbooks she hadn’t even noticed us. “I’m in, but if we’re going through with this,” Ivy pointed after her and shot me a look, “we need backup.”
Chapter Eighteen
We found Carl and Leyla during lunch to get them up to speed. “It’d be better if we could talk somewhere private,” I said, scanning the bustling cafeteria. “For Carl’s sake.”
Carl kept his gratitude to himself.
“I’ve got a place.” Leyla jerked her head toward the hallway. “Hang on.”
She left the caf and came back a few minutes later, slightly out breath. “Okay, follow me.” Leyla led us down the hall and stopped in front of one of Pete’s supply closets. “In here.”
“It’s locked,” I said. Pete kept things running smoothly around the school, everything in its proper place, locked up as it should be—unless I happened to slide him his favorite bribe: a fresh six-pack of doughnuts. Which I had neglected to do. I racked my brain for an alternate location.
Leyla hauled the door open and grinned. “Not if the price is right.”
My eyes and ears were deceiving me. Ivy pushed me into the closet after tapping my chin back up in place. “Let’s get down to business,” she said.
“Yes,” I said, turning to Leyla as she shut the door behind us. “How’d you get us in here?”
“Pete lets me use the closet when I need it,” she said.
“I think this is off-topic, Howard,” Ivy said.
“It’s the only topic right now,” I said. “What do you mean, Pete lets you use this closet?”
Leyla shrugged. “I bring him homemade treats. What’s a little bribe between friends?”
My mouth opened and closed, unable to form the words to fully comprehend this betrayal.
“Seriously?” Ivy said. “You’re surprised that a dude who takes bribes from a middle schooler takes bribes from more than one middle schooler?”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
Carl set a bucket upside down in the corner and took a seat. “Let me know when we get to the point.”
Right. The point. Scrutinizing Pete’s duplicitous nature would have to wait. We had a stakeout to plan. “I’ve got a suspect for Spartacus’s kidnapping,” I said as Leyla and Carl perked up. Ivy pursed her lips.
“Don’t get excited until he tells you who it is,” she said.
“After carefully narrowing down the field,” I said, shooting Ivy a look when she coughed. “I’ve concluded that Miles Fletcher is a person of interest in this case.”
“Miles.” Carl sat up straight. “Why?”
“He had the means, motive, and opportunity.”
Carl shook his head. “He’s my friend.”
“You’re not the first person to think that,” I said.
“He told me to put his name on the suspect list,” Carl pointed out.
“An excellent diversion tactic, don’t you think? Makes it look like he’s being up front,” I said. “When he’s really going behind our backs.”
The closet was silent as Carl and Leyla absorbed this new development. I dug two granola bars out of my pocket and tossed one to Ivy. Might as well enjoy the lunch part of our working lunch.
Leyla leaned back against the door. “What kind of motive?”
“Paving the way to be captain of the team,” I said around a mouthful of oats.
“But,” Carl said, “it’s not for sure that Oscar’s leaving.”
“That’s where his plan is kind of genius.” I quickly swallowed before continuing. “Miles has lost playing time, right?”
“Yeah,” Carl said. “He’s not the only one, though.”
“Right, but not everyone is going to get that time back. Even if things don’t fall into place for Miles to get captain, he’s still going to come out on top.” Wheels were spinning furiously as I walked myself through Miles’s possible plans. “He takes Spartacus and everyone’s upset. The team is in an uproar. All he has to do is cool his heels till Saturday, show up with the dog, be the hero, and Mr. Williams will be so grateful, he’ll have him starting again.”
“In theory,” Leyla said.
“Mr. Williams is climbing the walls enough that I could see it playing out that way,” Ivy said. I nodded at my partner, grateful for the backup.
“As much as I’m enjoying this quality time together,” Leyla said, “let’s cut to the chase. You’ve made some good guesses, but how do you plan to get proof?” Carl broadcast his own doubts with a single side-eyed glance.
“Easy,” I said. “We catch him in the act. Stakeout. Today after school.”
“I don’t like it.” Carl stood, cracking his neck. “But nothing else has panned out. Don’t have any other options at this point.”
“I reserve the right to record everything,” Leyla said, whisking out her phone and starting to jot down the plan in her schedule.
“That’s pretty much understood at this point, Leyla.” I sighed. We’d figure out how to get the footage off her later.
“So, we’re really doing this?” Carl tapped on the shelves, eager to get out of our cramped quarters. “Spying on Miles?”
“It’s not spying—it’s gathering evidence.” A slight, but important difference. I laid out the plan and made sure everyone was clear on their roles. As soon as school was over, we could put things in motion.
Chapter Nineteen
The bell rang, and Ivy and I raced to our lockers. We had to beat Miles out of school if our plan was going to work. Grabbing our bags, we busted our way through the crowd and out the doors.
Ivy and I huffed and puffed our way down the sidewalk. “I still think we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” she said between gasps. “We need to clear the rest of the team, you could have missed something at Stoverton—”
“Uh, how would you know if we missed anything at Stoverton?” I shot her a sideways glance. “That was some of my finest investigative work, I’ll have you know.”
“I thought you got caught by one of the players.”
“Who I then tricked into giving me information.”
“Okay, fine,” she said. “I’m saying I think we shouldn’t rule out other avenues of investigation. And I don’t want you to be disappointed if this stakeout doesn’t turn up anything.”
We slowed our pace as we drew nearer to Miles’s house. “Oh, it will.”
Our plan was simple: Leyla and Carl were following Miles home, and they were to take the front-yard watch, setting up their post on a park bench across the street. Ivy and I had gone ahead so we could set up in the backyard. There was a hedge of evergreens that would provide us with ample coverage and a clear view of the back of the house. When Miles brought Spartacus outside to do his business, we’d be in business.
“I’m freezing,” Ivy said.
“We just got here.”
“I know.” She blew on her mittens. “My enthusiasm for this plan is plummeting. Do you really want to freeze to death for a stakeout?”
“Wouldn’t be the worst way to go out.”
Ivy cackled and scooted closer to me. “I’m stealing all of your war
mth, so you bite it first.”
“Never going to happen,” I said, pulling the corner of my lucky coat out of my sleeve. “You gotta learn to dress in layers. I came prepared.”
My partner snuggled in, tugging part of my terrycloth sleeve over her mitts. She finally sat still. Too still. I could feel the questions pressing against my personal space bubble.
“What?” I looked over at her. “Spill.”
“Do you want it to be Miles?” It came out in a rush, like those weren’t the words she was expecting to say.
“I don’t want it to be anybody,” I said. “I’d like Spartacus to be home safe and for us to be working cases where people actually pay us.”
“No, I mean . . . ,” Ivy stumbled over her next thought, “will you be happy if it’s him and he gets into trouble?”
“Not happy,” I said, digging into the hard ground with the toe of my shoe. Happy definitely wasn’t what I would classify it as. Vindicated?
“It’s complicated,” I said. “Last year was ten pounds of garbage in a five-pound bag. That’s all there is to it. This year, it seemed like we were mostly leaving each other alone. I had you and the agency. Miles and I haven’t run into each other all that much. I didn’t forget, but it was—”
“Easier,” Ivy supplied.
“Yeah.” I nodded at that. “But then this case and now it’s not—easy.”
Ivy made a sympathetic noise that was quickly overpowered by the gurgling of her stomach. “We really need to stop working through lunch,” she said, laughing.
“Crime doesn’t stop for meals,” I shot back.
A rustling noise brought the conversation to a halt. Ivy and I froze as we waited for the intruder to appear.
“You guys hungry?” Miles dragged branches aside and held out a bag full of granola bars.
Ivy grabbed the bag out of his hands. “Oooh, snacks,” she said, digging through the selection.
“What are you doing?” I snatched the bag from Ivy and tossed it back to Miles. Things had gone spectacularly sideways. “Get out of here. You’re not supposed to be—how—”
“How are you supposed to spy on me when I’m right here?” Miles fished out a granola bar and lobbed it over to Ivy.
She wavered a look between me and the food in her hand. “It’s not spying,” she said finally, chucking the bar at Miles’s feet. “It’s a stakeout. Don’t think you get to argue about it after your little show this morning.”
Miles huffed as he reached down to tuck the granola bar back into his bag. “Fine,” he said. “Whatever. What do you want?”
“You got any dogs in there?” She peered over Miles’s shoulder into the backyard.
“I do, actually,” Miles said. “His name is Archer. Want to meet him?”
I scowled at them both. Our covert operation had been blown wide open and they were acting like this was a trip to the dog park.
“Yes,” Ivy said as I shook my head no. She took me aside for a whispered consultation. “Howard, the stakeout’s a bust. Let’s get the answers we need. See if this dog is who Miles says he is.”
“What?” Miles leaned in, not bothering to hide his eavesdropping. “You think it’s Spartacus in a retriever costume?”
Ivy cracked a smile. “You’d have to put him on stilts to make that work.”
“Stop it,” I said. “Both of you.” I turned to Ivy. “This is a serious investigation. Could you please act like it?”
“Don’t yell at her,” Miles said, frowning.
“I can speak for myself,” Ivy said, scrambling out of the bushes. “And I also say, ‘Stop yelling at me.’ ”
Crawling out after her, I stood up and brushed off my coat. “I’m not yelling. I just don’t appreciate you palling around with a suspect.”
Ivy held up a hand. “I’m not ‘palling around’ with anyone,” she said. “You don’t need to jump all over me for a little joke. Especially when it’s clear there’s nothing here. Can we leave now?”
“Not a chance,” I said, turning to Miles. “Show us this dog.”
Miles spun back around and strode over to the back door of his house. “Here, boy!” he called, after opening the door a crack. A golden ball of fluff plowed into him, and Miles stumbled backward, barely getting a hand around its collar. We watched as he got control of the wriggling beast. “Archer, meet Ivy and Howard.” Archer barked once then let his mouth hang open in a giant grin, pink tongue hanging over the edge.
All of my theories danced away, moving farther out of reach. “This doesn’t prove anything,” I said. “How do we know you don’t have Spartacus inside?”
“Howard,” Ivy said softly, and Miles went still.
“Do you want to search my house? Poke around until you find what you’re looking for? Is there a prewritten confession you’d like me to sign? Seems like you’ve already decided how you want this to go,” Miles snapped. Archer whined, and Miles gently nudged him back inside the house. He turned back to us. “Are you done with this fishing expedition?”
Ivy pulled on my sleeve. “We should go.”
“Go then.” I shrugged her off. “It’s what you’ve been doing all this week. I’m trying to solve this case. For some reason, I’m the only one making an effort.”
“Railroading Miles is not solving the case, Howard,” she said. “It’s revenge, and I’m done with it.” Ivy picked up her bag and left.
“Do you really hate me that much, Howard?” Miles asked quietly.
I rubbed at my forehead, unable to untangle the answer to that question.
“What’s it going to take? What can I say to get you to let some of this go?”
“This has nothing to do with you. It’s about the case.”
Miles stared at me and slowly shook his head. “Right.”
I wanted to find Spartacus and be done with this mess. It really wasn’t that much to ask. “It’s called ‘chasing down a lead,’ Miles,” I said. “It’s not personal. Try and get over yourself.”
“I will when you stop lying to yourself. Admit it. You’d have been thrilled to find Spartacus here and get the chance to turn me in.”
I stared him down, not about to admit anything. Any lie could become the truth if you said it enough.
He ran a hand over his face. “Listen, I meant what I said about wanting to help. I’m sorry about this morning. I don’t know what else you want—”
“What I want?” I exploded. “How about standing up for me for once? Why is joining in on the torture your first choice? What’s so hard about saying no?”
Miles shoved his hands into his pockets, refusing to meet my eyes. There was a small thump as Archer pressed his face into the back window, concern for the humans oozing out of every pore. Ivy was right. I should have gotten out of here a long time ago. I turned to leave and almost missed Miles’s soft response.
“Not everyone’s as brave as you.”
“Don’t give me that,” I said. “You don’t get to cop out on this.”
“You’ve got a good friend in Ivy, you know.” He finally looked up and a tiny smile flit across his face. “You should listen to her. Apologize, maybe.”
“Ivy and I are fine,” I said. “Also, pretty sure you’re the last person I should take advice from.”
Miles shrugged, buttoning up his sweater against the wind. “Just trying to help.”
“It’s funny,” I said. “You helping still looks an awful lot like you messing up my life.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’m out. Make sure you tell Carl it wasn’t me. Good luck with the rest of it.” The door slammed behind him, and I could hear Archer barking like crazy at the sound.
Grabbing my bag, I trudged around the side of the house, back out to the sidewalk. Leyla and Carl were waiting.
“We saw Ivy go,” Leyla said. “Did you find Spartacus? Was it Miles? What’s going on?”
I shook my head. “Negative across the board.”
“That’s good,” Carl said, surprising us both with
that statement. “I mean, bad you didn’t find Spartacus, but I’m glad—glad it’s not Miles.”
We made plans to meet up again the next day and went our separate ways. I couldn’t find it in my heart to be glad it wasn’t Miles. That particular organ was too full of dread over the fact that we were back to square one—worse than square one. Our leads were crumbling, the trail was growing cold, and I had no idea where my partner had run off to.
Of the three, that last one had me worried the most.
Chapter Twenty
I woke up on Thursday morning with an aching head and the taste of bitter words still on my tongue. It had been too late to stop by Ivy’s house last night, and she hadn’t picked up any of my calls. Tracking down new leads was job number one today, but I couldn’t do that without my partner. Time to do something about that. Grabbing a shirt out of the pile on the floor, I gave it a sniff and pulled it on. No more waiting on the sidewalk for Ivy. This time, I was going to her.
I stopped by the garage to say hi to Blue. Winters were pretty lonely for the old girl. I adjusted her blankets and checked on her tire pressure, listening to her creaks and groans as she settled in. “Atta girl, Blue.” I gave her a pat before heading out. Nice to be sure of one person in my corner.
Setting out on foot, I made my way over to Ivy’s house. I was halfway up the walk when Ivy’s door opened and she came storming out. “I don’t have to do anything,” she yelled, pulling on her hat and bag.
Her grandmother appeared in the doorway behind her. “We’re not done talking about this, Ivy.” She reached out, cupping Ivy’s cheek in her hand. “It’s important to talk about it.”
Ivy jerked her head away. “I need to get to school. I don’t want to be late.” She ran down the steps, calling out a quick good-bye. Barreling down the driveway, Ivy stopped short at the sight of me, waiting there for her.
“What are you doing here?”
I waved at Lillian, who was keeping an eye on us from the front stoop. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Ivy squared her backpack on her shoulders and started on a brisk march up the sidewalk. “So, talk,” she said.