by Deb Loughead
“So who was it?” I said, still wondering if this was a trick to pry the truth out of me.
“Why don’t you tell me?” Nicole said, then smiled.
“Because I don’t want to accuse the wrong person,” I said. Which was the total truth.
Nicole squinted in her perceptive way. “You know more, don’t you, Dylan?” she said.
“The only thing I know for sure is that I’m almost late for my first day of work,” I said. Then I steered my bike past her cruiser and on toward the lodge.
I parked my bike in a rack around back but went in through the front door again. And I was half disappointed that Heather wasn’t there, waiting to give me a hug. In fact, nobody was there. I could hear voices and the clatter of dishes and cutlery coming from the kitchen. I figured I’d probably be hearing that sound a lot this summer.
“Hello?” I called. “Anybody home?”
“Dylan! Good morning.” Mr. Hillier appeared in the dining room doorway. “Right on time. I like that in an employee. Let me show you around. We’ll start here.”
In the first hour, I learned a whole lot about how things worked at the lodge. Nobody was officially on the reception desk until noon, when Heather started her shift. That was also when the dining room opened for lunch. Until then, if we heard the desk bell ding, one of us from the kitchen was to come out and see who was there. Kitchen staff were also to answer the phone and take dinner reservations that came in during the morning.
That first morning on the job, I learned about clearing the tables after the lodge guests had finished their buffet breakfasts. The biggest surprise was how much food people wasted. I was so tempted to scarf down a Danish left behind on a plate. But that would look bad if I got caught, so I scraped it into the garbage along with everything else and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. Half-empty yogurt cups, half-eaten omelets and slices of toast…Gran would have been mortified.
I took a few phone calls as well, since Tony, the line chef, and Kelly, a server, were busy with food prep. I used my most polite voice for those calls. In the reservation book, I took down the names and phone numbers of people booking tables. I even asked them to repeat their information to avoid mistakes.
I kept my eyes and ears wide open, wondering if I could pick up any clues to help Nicole. But it seemed pointless. If there was any connection between the robberies and the fact that both victims were eating here when they happened, I sure couldn’t find it.
Hayden Hillier showed up around ten and got busy in the kitchen. Today he wasn’t wearing my T-shirt. I saw him checking out menus and talking to the chef. I got the feeling that he was training to become a chef himself. He took a couple of phone calls at the desk after he got there, too. Heather showed up just before noon. She came over and gave me a hug again. I wished it didn’t feel so good. Then I wished I hadn’t had to wish that.
Lunch hour was busy, and I didn’t even look at the clock. After the paying customers were taken care of, Hayden handed me a thick ham-and-cheese sandwich. This job had its good points. Before I knew it, Mr. Hillier popped into the dining room, where I was finishing setting tables for the dinner hour.
“Dylan, we don’t encourage overtime work here,” he said, grinning.
I checked the wall clock. It was four fifteen. “Wow, today zoomed by,” I told him.
“Nice job, buddy. See you tomorrow,” Mr. Hillier said, then patted my back as I went past him to hang up my apron.
I could hardly believe that my first day on the job was already over. Even though I would never admit it to Mom and Gran, I was actually looking forward to day two. I pedaled home along the main drag on yet another bright and steamy afternoon. At the variety shop, I hit the brakes, dropped my bike and ran in for a Freezie. While I was waiting to pay, Garrett’s mom showed up. When she spotted me, her face dropped. Nuts.
“Oh, it’s you, Dylan. Garrett’s out in the car. He’s in deep trouble. It was just a silly prank, you know.” She glared at me, then headed for the counter. I dashed for the door.
There was no avoiding Garrett though. His mom’s car was parked in a space right in front of the store. He was in the passenger seat, looking totally miserable. When he saw me, his face hardened.
“We were just goofing around on Friday night, Dylan. Why did you rat us out, anyway?”
“It wasn’t me.” I kept my distance from the car. “It was probably one of the other guys you messed with that night.”
For the first time ever, Garrett looked like he was about to cry. “You gotta help me. Now we’re robbery suspects. We’re screwed. And you can get us off the hook.”
“But the robbery happened the same night you were wandering around with flashlights,” I reminded him. “How can we even be sure it wasn’t you? And what happened to our clothes?”
“We went back with a golf-ball retriever to knock the clothes down after you left. We were trying to hide the evidence in case you guys ratted us out. One of the guys threw them in some garbage bin.” Now he actually looked as if he was sorry about the whole thing.
“Blew up in your face, didn’t it?” I said, feeling smug for once. “You’d look like less of a thief if you told Nicole what bin our clothes got tossed in.”
“We did, but they weren’t there when she went to check,” Garrett said.
“Hah. That happened to us too. When we were suspects and I had to show Nicole our clothes in the trees for proof. And they weren’t there. We got in trouble because of you. I guess that’s why one of my friends ratted you out. To get us off the hook.”
“So who’s gonna save our hides now?” he said, looking even more distressed.
Hmm…I had a feeling I knew where those clothes might have wound up.
“Leave it with me, Garrett,” I said.
“Seriously? You know something, Dylan?” Wow, he hadn’t even called me Dillweed yet. I was starting to like this situation.
“If I get this figured out, then you owe me big-time, okay?” I said.
Garrett held his hand out the window for a high five. I gave him a slap.
“Truce?” he said, offering a sheepish grin.
I smiled back at him, and I almost meant it.
Gran and I went for dinner at Rocky’s Roadhouse that evening. We sat at the bar so the three of us could hang out while Mom poured drinks. I couldn’t stop yammering about my first day on the job. Mom and Gran beamed the entire time they listened to the details of my routine. Mom made sure to heap extra sweet-potato fries on my plate with the wings I ordered. She knew they were my favorite.
“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but didn’t I say you’d like working, Dylan?” Gran said as she dipped a wing in honey-garlic sauce.
“And I hate to admit that you were right, Gran,” I said, “but you were. Maybe for the first time ever.”
When Gran shot me a killer glare, Mom stood there and laughed.
Chapter Eight
That night I remembered to set my alarm for six thirty. But on the morning of day two, I had too much time. Seven, I decided, would be the perfect time to get up.
I felt way more confident walking in on Wednesday morning. Before being told what to do, I started clearing tables, scraping food and loading the dishwasher.
Before long Hayden showed up, early like yesterday. I had a few questions to ask him and kept an eye out, waiting for my chance. I got it when I spotted him hauling a garbage bag out the back door. I hurried to catch up, pretending to have come to hold the door for him. He headed toward a row of giant garbage containers, and I followed.
“So, since you’re the boss’s son,” I said, “it’s okay to ask you questions, right? Since you’re practically in charge here too?”
“Fire away,” Hayden said, looking pleased.
“If I find the garbage can in the kitchen overflowing, is it okay for me to dispose of it out here? Then put a new bag in the can? I mean, I wouldn’t want to be doing someone else’s job.”
“Of course,” Hayden said
. “My dad likes it when his employees take initiative.”
“Cool,” I said as we headed back to the kitchen. “So can I ask you one more thing? The T-shirt you had on the other day. Was it really a gift? Or did you maybe find it someplace?”
Uh-oh. Bad question, judging by how his face turned into a thunderhead.
“Seriously? Do you think I’m a Dumpster diver or something? You think I’d go digging around through trash for my clothes? Give me a break, Dylan.” Hayden pushed past me and let the screen door slam in my face.
I might not be making friends with him anytime soon, but at least he’d answered my question. I hadn’t said word one about digging through Dumpsters or trash. But he sure had. And now I had a fairly good idea where my clothes had wound up that night. So I could save Garrett’s hide, if I wanted to.
Late that morning, I took a couple of calls at the desk. One of the callers wanted to adjust his dinner reservation to a later time on Friday night. I ran my finger down the list of names until I found his. I changed it from 8:00 PM to 9:00 PM. That was when I spotted the ink dot. Right beside the man’s last name and phone number. It was barely noticeable.
The dot had not been there yesterday. I knew, because I had taken that call myself. Some guests gave cell phone numbers. Others had landlines at their cottages, and you could always tell by the first three numbers. This was a landline number.
Curious, I flipped back through the reservation book, studying each page closely. That was when I found a second dot. And a third. Lots of people press their pen tip onto the paper or doodle when they’re on the phone. But on a hunch, I grabbed a notepad and scribbled down the phone numbers beside each dot. Then I tore the paper off and crammed it into the pocket of my shorts.
“Dylan? What are you doing?” Tony, the line chef, stood behind me, frowning. “I need your help out in the kitchen.”
“I was taking a phone call,” I said.
“Clearly you weren’t,” Tony said, pointing to the phone sitting in its cradle. Then he came over and shut the reservation book. “This is confidential info, by the way. You shouldn’t go flipping through this book, you know.”
I felt my face start to burn. “But I just hung up,” I said. “Someone called to change their dinner reservation.”
“Whatever. Hurry up and get back here where we need you, okay?” he said.
As I scooted down the hall to the kitchen, I saw Mr. Hillier watching me through his open office door. The rest of the day, I busted my hump on the job. I even skipped my break.
Before I finished work that day, Mr. Hillier called me into his office. This time, his mouth was taut, with no trace of a smile.
“Maybe you can explain a couple of things to me,” he said.
I gulped hard. “I’ll try, sir,” I told him.
“Why did you lie to Heather last Friday before I gave you the job?”
My face sizzled. What could I say? That Heather had covered for me by lying about why I was late? How had he even learned about that lie, anyway?
“Another question. Why were you snooping through the reservation book today?” His voice was harsh and accusing. I gulped again. “And besides that, you accused my son Hayden of digging through the trash today, too. What is your problem?”
“Um, Mr. Hillier—” I managed to choke out, then stopped. I couldn’t even speak.
“Look, I don’t tolerate dishonest employees,” he said. I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. “You’d better not come back tomorrow, Dylan.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
Then I spun around and walked out of his office. When I passed through the lobby, Heather was standing behind the reception desk, looking sad. Watching me get fired from my first job.
Riding my bike home that afternoon, I felt like throwing up. How could I explain this to Mom and Gran? They’d never forgive me, because they would totally believe what Mr. Hillier said. Unless…I braked my bike and dug into my pocket. The piece of paper was still there. Instead of heading for home, I parked in front of the Bridgewood Weekly newspaper office on the main drag.
“Hey, Dylan.” The photographer was sitting at his usual shabby desk when I walked in. He had photos up on a computer screen. “Long time no see.”
I cringed. “That’s probably a good thing,” I said. I so hoped he wouldn’t bring up the snowball incident from last winter.
“What’s new?” The reporter smiled at me from behind her cluttered desk. “I’m sure you’re not just dropping in to say hi.”
“Nope,” I said. Then I told them exactly what I needed. And they were more than happy to give it to me.
“You investigating something, Dylan?” the reporter asked. There was a glint of amusement in her eye. “You about to crack a case wide open or what?”
“Not sure,” I said. “But if I do, I’m sure you’ll be the first to know.”
When I got home, Gran was making dinner. I hightailed it to my bedroom and pulled up the online phone directory. I knew that if you keyed in a phone number, it would show you that person’s name and address. I tried the first number on the piece of paper from my pocket. Bingo. Then the second one. Bingo again.
I was right. The reporter had given me the names of the people who’d been robbed in the past couple of weeks. Those names corresponded with the ones that had an ink dot beside them in the reservation book. Both robberies had taken place while the cottagers were dining at Granitewood Lodge.
Now I was almost positive that the scheme had been set up at the reception desk. I had a pretty good idea I knew who it was too. Why else would Tony have freaked out about my looking through that reservation book?
All I had to do was prove it. That wasn’t going to be easy. I had only one thing going for me. That last phone number, for the Friday-night dinner reservation I’d taken myself. The one that had an ink dot beside it in the reservation book this morning. It was the third phone number I’d jotted down. Now I had the address that went with the number. And that was going to save my skin.
I called Monica after dinner to tell her what had happened that day. She was nearly as shocked as I was. Then I begged for her help. I told her I needed somewhere to hide out all day. I wasn’t ready to tell Mom and Gran what had happened. Not until I got it all sorted out. She offered her place, since her parents and two older brothers would be at work. She told me that if I got there around eight thirty on Thursday morning, everyone would be gone.
Monica was definitely the best thing about this summer so far.
Chapter Nine
All day Thursday, I chilled at Monica’s place. I helped her weed her mom’s garden. Then we played some video games and made sandwiches. It was smoking hot outside, but we couldn’t risk going to the beach. If it got back to Mom somehow that I wasn’t at work, questions would be asked, and I’d be doomed. So instead we sat under her sprinkler to cool off. We even shared a couple of kisses under there.
Later in the afternoon, I finally told Monica my version of the story. She was instantly caught up in the crazy plot, and she was willing to help me see my plan through to the end. Including staking out the robbery location after dark on Friday night. I told her I figured that Tony would make his move that night after his shift. That he would show up while the cottagers were dining at Granitewood, the way he had the last two times. Then he’d climb through a window and take their stuff.
“But you’re going to tell Officer Vance for sure, right?” Monica said as I was about to head for home around four. “Because if Tony catches us there, who knows what he might do to us.”
“Of course I’m telling her,” I said as I climbed on my bike. “That’s part of the plan. Imagine the look on Tony’s face when Nicole and Prince show up. He’ll be caught in the act. And I’ll get my job back.”
“Jeez, Dylan, I can’t even believe all this is happening,” Monica said, then shivered.
Which was a great opportunity to sneak in a hug before I rode off.
The two of us could barely
sit still all day Friday. So far everything was going smoothly. Nobody suspected yet that I’d lost my job, and Monica’s house was the perfect place to hang out. Before I left her place, we went over the plan carefully to make sure we both had it right.
“So you’ll be out in front of the movie theater at eight,” she said. “I already told my parents that we’re going.”
“Me too,” I said. “It’s all set. We’ll head for the cottage and stake it out to watch Tony get caught. Our folks won’t know how long the movie was. We’ll be home before they even start to worry.”
“Have you told Officer Vance yet?”
“That’s where I’m going right now,” I said. “To tell her what’s happening tonight. So she can be there when it all goes down.”
Nicole came out of a back office to greet me a few minutes after I asked for her at the desk.
“Dylan?” She frowned for a second. “How’s the new job going?”
“Um, pretty good, I guess,” I said as my face started to burn.
“Whew, that’s a relief.” Nicole gave me a crooked grin. “I was a bit worried. I ran into Tom Hillier in town on Wednesday afternoon. He mentioned how you showed up at the bonfire in the woods last week. And that you saved the day by calling nine-one-one. Hah!”
“What?” I clenched my fists. “And what did you tell him, Nicole?”
“Well, I laughed, of course, and told him he had his story wrong. And that you were just a bunch of innocent kids trying to have a good time.”
I backed up and sank onto a bench against the wall. The one I’d been sitting on before making my statement to the cops on Saturday. “He fired me on Wednesday, Nicole. Because of what you told him,” I said. “Among other things.”
Nicole’s eyes grew wide, and she sat down slowly beside me.
“Oh, Dylan. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m so sorry. Did you tell your mom yet?”
“No, and don’t bother telling her for me, okay? I’ll tell her when I’m ready.” I sighed.
“Look, I’ll help you clear things up with your boss, okay?” she said. “We’ll get this fixed, I promise.”