“Exactly.” I say, “You know, you’re a really good listener. You know that?”
He exhales loudly. “It’s three o’clock in the morning. You can go hang out with your dad and sister. I’m gonna talk to some people.”
“Pull strings?”
“Nope. I don’t do that. I told your dad that, and I meant it.”
Sixty-One Stella
The Smoothie Factory
June 25 (Continued)
Dario said to us, “I think I know how to take care of this.” He led us to the Nifty storeroom and moved boxes of snow globes for us to sit on. “Stay here.” And he left us.
After a few seconds, he came back in and handed us an old-fashioned radio with a twisty knob. “You can listen on the radio.” Then he added, “And for real, guys, I mean it—stay here.”
“Murielle duPluie here with continuing coverage of the Meredith Maxwell situation. The starlet is resuming her promo tour with her next stop at our very own hot spot for cool, healthy drinks, the Smoothie Factory, where the one and only Meredith Maxwell is mixing fruity concoctions for herself. Only security and press, like myself, are allowed inside the store. There’s a sizable crowd outside the windows watching the rock star make her smoothie.”
My cell phone rang with a video call. It was Dario. I turned the volume down on the radio as duPluie asked Meredith about the flavors she was blending, and I put my phone on speaker so Josie could hear too. Dario’s face—well, more like his chin—appeared on the screen. “Okay. I’m going in.”
“How will you get in?” Josie asked.
“I have a press badge.”
“From where?” I asked.
“Duh, a printer.”
“No one is going to believe that,” I said. “You’re thirteen.”
He held it up for us to see. It wasn’t too bad. “Maybe it’ll work,” I said to Josie.
There was commotion on Dario’s end of the phone, and we could see bodies all around him. He said, “Excuse me. Press. Member of the press. Please move aside.”
Then there was a deep voice, and we could see the profile of one of Meredith’s thick-chested bodyguards. “Can I help you?”
“Uh, yeah, hi there. Dario Imani. Intern at Shelter Harbor Public TV, Channel Nine. I was sent out here to get in on this press conference.” He held up his badge for the guy.
Dario said, “It’s my first interview, so kind of a big deal to my future as a journalist. I’m so nervous. Do you think she’ll be able to tell? Do I look nervous?”
The guy handed the badge back and opened the door to the Smoothie Factory.
“Thanks, man. Hey, this is for you.” Dario reached into his pocket and handed something to the guard. A tip?
The guard held the object up just high enough for us to catch a glimpse of a refrigerator magnet that said SHELTER HARBOR, NJ. Dario had thought of everything.
“Thanks, kid,” the guard said. “Just relax. You’ll be fine.”
Then Dario whispered into the phone, “I’m in. My digital video recorder will stream through the phone, so you can see it all. Hanging up now.”
A new image appeared on the phone. It was the Smoothie Factory from the perspective of Dario’s handheld video recorder. Meredith Maxwell sat across from duPluie, and they were talking.
duPluie: So, Meredith, what’s your favorite flavor?
Maxwell: I love pineapple with fresh coconut.
duPluie: Sounds like the tropics in a cup.
They noticed Dario getting closer.
Murielle duPluie pushed a button on her microphone and asked Dario, “Can I help you?”
“Hey there. Dario Imani. Intern at Shelter Harbor Public TV, Channel Nine.” He held out his badge for them to see.
“Channel Nine?” duPluie asked. “I didn’t know they had interns. Are you working for Lauri Witte?”
“No. For Sue Walsh. She sends her best.”
DuPluie thought. “Sue? I don’t think I know her.”
“Well, she knows you. Admires you, actually, and she really wants me to get this story. She gave me some questions to ask. Do you mind?”
“I never mind TV filming me,” Meredith said. “Fire away.”
Murielle duPluie said, “We weren’t quite done with this.”
“We can come back to it,” Meredith assured her, and flipped her hair.
Murielle spoke into a gadget on her wrist. “Alessandro, go to commercial.” And duPluie made a motion with her hand as if to say, Go on ahead, Mr. Big Shot Intern.
“Great,” Dario said. “My first question, Ms. Maxwell, is about your beauty regime. I mean, we can all see how beautiful and fit you are. What’s your secret?”
Meredith smiled.
I asked Josie, “When did he become such a charmer?”
She said, “I don’t know, but he’s good.”
Meredith said, “Oh, you’re so kind. But my secret is right here. You’re looking at it. These smoothies are the best thing for your health and your appearance. I can’t get enough of them.”
“And do you have financial ties to the Smoothie Factory? I mean, if this store goes national, how much money do you stand to make?”
“What? Why would you ask that?”
“Well, because according to my research, you’re the president of a holding company called MM Enterprises that has provided the capital for this store, and MM—um, you—stand to make a load of money if it does well. How big is your financial stake in the company?”
Instantly Meredith looked annoyed but quickly covered it with a dazzling smile. She brushed her hair out of her face in one direction, then another. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dario said, “Oh, my bad, sorry. We can move to some other questions, if that’s better.”
“I think it would be,” Meredith said.
“Great. Are you aware that the Smoothie Factory is illegally bringing wattle berries from Australia to New Jersey, and that’s the secret ingredient in the smoothie’s stellar nutrition? And are you aware that the processing of those berries is happening right here in the basement? And that this processing creates a by-product that’s drained into the ocean and kills medusa jellyfish as well as damages the pylons that support Murphy’s Pier?”
Meredith asked, “Where are you getting this information?”
Dario kept right on going. “And now the pier can’t support the weight of the people who’ll attend your concert?”
“That is a crazy accusation,” Meredith snapped, and she looked super nervous.
Dario didn’t back down.
“So is that a yes or a no?”
Meredith paused.
Murielle duPluie clicked her microphone back on. “We’re back on the air, folks, and Meredith Maxwell has just been slammed with a host of accusations about her financial ties to the Smoothie Factory, which she’s promoting here today—a store, by the way, allegedly tied to environmentally reckless business practices.”
Meredith looked into Dario’s camera.
“Tell us, Meredith, what do you know about this?” asked duPluie.
Meredith’s mouth couldn’t form a single word. She waved to a girl on her team who was sitting on the sideline. The girl said to Murielle and Dario, “We’re gonna have to cut this interview short, I’m afraid.”
Dario asked the girl, “Can we schedule a follow-up?”
“You can leave me your business card, and I’ll call you.”
“Not so fast. The people of Whalehead deserve an answer,” said duPluie.
Murielle pushed a button on her earpiece, listening to someone.
duPluie: I have Mayor Lopez on the line now. Hi there, Mayor. Thank you for taking our call.
Mayor: No problem, Murielle. I love the Smoothie Factory, and I’m happy to talk about how healthy I feel now that I’ve been having a smoothie every day.
duPluie: Are you aware, sir, that the ingredients in those smoothies are creating a dangerous situation in the ocean? One that’s affecting
the aquatic life, and could very well hurt our community?
Mayor: Uh, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Murielle.
Dario: Sure you are, Mr. Mayor. Because you’ve made promises to people in exchange for their help with this illegal activity.
duPluie: Mr. Mayor, what do you have to say?
There was the sound of a click.
“It seems we’ve lost the mayor. I’m sorry, folks, but you have my word that WLEO will follow this story.”
Meredith’s bodyguards were inside the store now, pushing Dario and Murielle duPluie out. Dario kept recording.
Once on the outside of the crowd, we could see Murielle duPluie on the video. She faced Dario squarely. “How did you know that stuff?”
“I would never reveal my sources.”
“Good answer. What’s Channel Nine paying you as an intern?”
“Uh…”
“I’ll double it.”
“Um. I, uh…”
“Fine. I’ll triple it. You drive a hard bargain, kid. You work for me now. I want to see everything you got. Let’s get out of this heat and back to my office. We’ve got a story to blow the lid off of.”
Sixty-Two Stella
Storeroom, Nifty Gifty
June 25 (Continued)
The storeroom door opened, and there stood Dad. “What the heck is going on?”
“How did you find us?” Josie asked.
Dad held up his cell phone and showed us our dots. “There’s an app for that, you know?” Then he said, “Let’s go.”
“Dad, we can explain everything,” I said.
“No time, Stell. I have a pal at the police station. He’s a detective. You’re gonna tell him everything.”
“Everything?” I asked.
“Everything, Stella,” he said. “It’s all gonna be fine. Trust me on this.”
Josie and I walked out of the stuffy storeroom.
“Girls—”
I expected something comforting. Something empathetic. Something helpful. “Yeah, Dad?”
“Those hats look ridiculous.”
Sixty-Three Stella
Police Station
June 26 (Continued)
There’s a knock on the interview room door.
Santoro reaches his long arm over but can’t quite reach the knob, so he gets up. I see Gregory on the other side.
“Morning, Counselor,” Santoro says.
Gregory looks right at me. “How you doing, Stell?”
“Okay?” I say.
He nods and smiles at me. It’s a don’t-worry-about-anything smile. Then he says to Santoro, “Let’s talk.”
Santoro nods.
As he’s leaving, Gregory tells me, “I told your mom not to worry, but call her, okay?”
“I will.”
Sixty-Four Stella
Police Station
June 26 (Continued)
Dad, me, and Josie are eating breakfast in the cafeteria when Santoro sits next to us with a cup of coffee. He says, “Sorry that took so long. You can go.”
“Thanks, Jay,” Dad says.
Gregory walks up behind Santoro. The two shake hands. “Ready?” Gregory asks us.
We’re so ready.
“You girls were very helpful to the police tonight,” Gregory says as he holds the police station door open for us. “I heard everything. Santoro let me listen through the interview room speakers on my drive here. And I was on the phone with both of your moms all night.”
Overhead an airplane dragging an advertisement for Moe’s Raw Bar and Karaoke flies by.
“You were?” I ask.
“Of course, kiddo. We were all watching out for you.”
“Thanks, Gregory,” I say, and I hug him around the waist, because he’s so much taller than me. Suddenly his name doesn’t sound so stupid.
“You can always count on me,” he says, and he ruffles my hair. It’s goofy, but I like it. Maybe the change that came when Gregory married Mom hasn’t been all bad.
Just then Laney pulls up in Dad’s truck. “Need a lift?” She slides over and lets Dad drive.
Gregory opens the door for us, and Josie hops in. “Enjoy the rest of your summer,” he calls in to her. To me he says, “I convinced your mom that this isn’t a strike, but please stay out of trouble, Stell.”
“I will.”
“See you, Gary,” Gregory says to my dad.
“Sure. Thanks again.”
“Anytime.”
Gregory walks away, and I’m about to get in after Josie when a voice calls to us, “Wait. Can I grab a ride?” It’s Dr. Rodney.
“Of course,” Dad says, and Dr. Rodney slides into the back seat between me and Josie.
I hear Murielle duPluie on the radio. “Dad,” I say, “turn it up.”
“Murielle duPluie here with the Whalehead news from the Jersey Shore. I’m in front of the police station, where Stella and Josie Higley are exiting the building with their father and lawyer.
“Oh, this is surprising. Dr. Rodney Klinger is also leaving the building and joining the Higleys in their car. And here comes Detective Jay Santoro.
“Detective, Murielle duPluie from WLEO. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Dad drives the pickup out of the parking lot slowly as we all listen.
“Here is what I can tell you, Ms. duPluie. First and foremost, the safety of the members of this community and our visitors is our highest priority. While the investigation is ongoing, I can confirm that the victim in this case, Cassandra Winterhalter, also known as Meredith Maxwell’s number one fan, is now in stable condition. The suspect who was being questioned for stalking Meredith Maxwell has been released, as those allegations were completely without merit.”
Dr. Rodney asks, “What I want to know is, did everyone think I was some major Meredith Maxwell fan?”
“You might not know this,” I say, “but you have sort of a vibe that some people might not totally be able to read—”
“Shh,” Laney interrupts. “There’s more.” She turns the volume up.
Santoro continues. “In addition, we have issued three arrest warrants, one for Mayor Paul Lopez for endangering the welfare of this community and its visitors, and a second for Mrs. Gabriella Gardiner for illegally dumping toxic substances into the ocean. The third is for the pop star Meredith Maxwell for insider trading.”
We pass Booth driving his police cruiser, with Meredith Maxwell in the back.
duPluie: What about Meredith Maxwell’s allegations that Stella and Josephine Higley kidnapped her?
Santoro: No charges are being filed with regard to any alleged kidnapping. I cannot comment further as there are elements of this that are ongoing.
duPluie: Can you tell us the future of the Smoothie Factory?
Santoro: I have to get back into the precinct, but I understand that the Flying Fish are issuing an announcement shortly. I think your listeners will find that interesting.
duPluie: Thanks for the tip. WLEO listeners, please let me introduce my new intern, Dario Imani, who is on location at Karleigh Park with the Flying Fish rock-and-roll band. Over to you, Dario.
Josie and I clap with excitement about Dario’s new internship.
Dr. Rodney reaches a hand to each of us and gently stops our applause so that we can hear.
Imani: Dario Imani here with WLEO News, reporting live from Karleigh Park, where Evan Roberts, lead guitarist of the Flying Fish, is walking to a podium. The next voice you hear will be the great Evan Roberts.
Roberts: Thank you for joining me. There’s only one thing performers hate more than disappointing their fans, and that’s finding out that one of their trusted bandmates is poisoning the ocean in the name of profit. For this reason, Austin, Lucien, and myself have chosen to cut all ties with Meredith Maxwell and dissolve the Flying Fish.
There are sounds of groans from the crowd, and also in the car.
Evan Roberts: “While that is certainly sad news for you to hear, we hope you’ll be
pleased to know that me and the guys are forming a new group, Sea Vacuum. And this is more than a music group. It’s also an ingenious invention that sucks oil and pollution out of the ocean. It was invented by a local scientist named Dr. Rodney Klinger.”
We all look at Dr. Rodney. Dr. Rodney holds his hands up. “What can I say? I’m a scientific genius. Maybe that’s the vibe some people aren’t able to read. And, mark my words, the sea vacuum has the potential to transform our oceans.” Then he says, “I’ve been talking to Roberts about this for a while. I’m friends with his dad.”
Evan Roberts: “The mission of our new band is not only to bring our fans the best music, but also to raise awareness of the need for ocean cleanup. To launch our new band, we’ll be hosting a free concert right here in Karleigh Park. We hope everyone can make it.
“To give you a taste of what to expect, the boys and I are gonna play a quick song for you.… Two, three, four!”
And the car fills with rock music as Evan belts out the new song.
Dr. Rodney jams on air drums, me and Josie on air guitar, Laney on air keyboard. Dad bops his head up and down to the beat.
Our jam is cut short with a chime from Laney’s phone.
She takes the call:
“Yes, sir.… I see.… I’m on my way.”
Dad asks, “What was that about?”
“Is there any way you can take me to Finnegan’s Marina? I have a little thing to do for work.”
“Sure,” Dad says. “When you said you worked for the Coast Guard, I didn’t realize it was an on-call-type thing.”
“Only sometimes. But I can’t talk about that.”
“Why not?” Josie asks.
“Top secret?” I ask.
“What are you? A spy?” Dad laughs at his own joke.
Dr. Rodney says, “It’s classified, isn’t it?”
She nods.
Dad slows down at the marina. “Like, classified classified?”
Laney says, “Yup. Sorry, guys. Confidential. I really can’t talk about it.”
Saltwater Secrets Page 14