Partners in Crime (9780545463119)

by Harrington, Kim

  I thought about how hard it must be. Talking is as easy to some people as math is to me. But others have to work at it. So Maya wasn’t talkative; that wasn’t her fault. But, because she was so quiet, it was like she was invisible. No one even looked at her most of the time.

  Behind Maya, Zane was sitting one table over with his friends. I sighed inwardly.

  Zane is not the most gorgeous boy in school. He’s not the smartest or funniest. And though he’s great at soccer, that’s his only sport (as the other jocks remind him). But he is the kindest boy. I’ve never seen him bully or make fun of anyone. He treats everyone the same, whether you’re popular or a giant dork. And that is really, really cool.

  The problem, though, with a boy who’s nice to everyone is that there’s no way to tell if he likes you back. You know … likes you, likes you. Not that I like him. But if I did, it would be difficult to see if he liked me back. That’s all I’m saying.

  As if he could feel me staring, Zane turned and looked right at me. I shot my eyes downward, but there was nothing I could do about the red blush that I’m sure was lighting up my face and neck.

  After a minute, I peeked over my shoulder to see what was taking Darcy so long. Surprisingly, she seemed to be chatting with Fiona Fanning.

  Fiona was wearing a skirt and high-heeled booties. Her long brown hair has blond highlights she swears are natural, but she must spend an hour every morning with a flatiron to make every strand look just so. Meanwhile, my blond hair has more of the “wash, blow-dry, and go” look to it. I don’t spend much time on my appearance. But that’s probably why every boy in the seventh grade has a crush on Fiona, and I’ve never even had a boy call my house or slip me a note.

  Fiona is totally stuck-up, with her popular friends and all that. I could only imagine what insulting thing she was saying to Darcy now. I hoped Darcy had some self-control. I’d just talked her out of one trip to the principal’s office on Friday.

  When Darcy returned to the table with packets of ketchup, I asked her, “What was the beauty queen bugging you about?”

  “Nothing really,” Darcy said, looking confused. “She was just complaining about how Mrs. Feldman’s class was so boring today.”

  The fry fell from my fingers. “Wait, wait, wait …. Fiona Fanning was just … nice to you?”

  “Yeah.” Darcy reached around the air with her hands. “There’s a disturbance in the force.”

  We laughed, but then the bell rang and I wasn’t laughing anymore. Time for gym. I hated gym. Darcy and I were always picked last.

  “Time to go,” I said with a groan.

  We started moving out of the cafeteria with the crowd. Hunter Fisk sneered at us as we walked by, and Darcy stuck her tongue out at him.

  Suddenly, Darcy grabbed my elbow and whispered, “I know we said we wouldn’t talk about it in school. But I just thought of something. Something horrible.”

  “What?” I whispered, my heart pounding as I glanced around worriedly. The cafeteria was so chaotic that no one could have overheard us.

  “What if it’s a trick?” Darcy whispered.

  “Huh?”

  “The e-mail. What if there is no missing sister? What if someone’s just playing a prank on us?”

  I frowned. “Why would they do that?”

  “To waste our time. To watch us run in circles, trying to solve the mystery just so they could laugh in our faces.”

  “Who would do something like that?” I said disgustedly. “Something so … hateful.”

  Darcy lifted a hand to shield her pointing finger. I followed the direction she was pointing. Hunter Fisk. He was charging out of the cafeteria, laughing his obnoxious laugh.

  “Revenge for what you did to him in social studies?” I wondered out loud.

  “The timing is right,” Darcy said. “We gave the presentation. I … well … humiliated him in class. Then, later that afternoon, we got the e-mail.”

  Gosh. It made sense. But I didn’t picture Hunter coming up with such an elaborate plan to get back at us. He was usually more direct, like shoving kids into lockers and knocking books out of their hands.

  Or … maybe I just didn’t want it to be him. Maybe I wanted it to be someone innocent who really did need our help. The mystery was exciting to me. It was challenging. An adventure. I’d never really had an adventure before.

  Either way, I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

  “I don’t think we should assume it’s Hunter,” I said. “I don’t want to quit. I want to keep investigating. But we’ll keep our eyes on him. How’s that?”

  Darcy shrugged. “Works for me.”

  In gym class, we stood in formation as Mr. Edwards explained the rules of the volleyball match we were about to start. He always wore this whistle around his neck, even though I’d never seen him blow it. Not once.

  I tried to pay attention to what Mr. Edwards was saying and not let my eyes drift to Zane. But he was wearing this really cool Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups T-shirt. I wondered if that was his favorite candy.

  Darcy whispered, “Will you stop daydreaming about Zane Munro and pay attention?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I am not daydreaming about —”

  Mr. Edwards finished his talk and tossed a volleyball at me. I caught it in both hands and gazed around in confusion. Everyone looked at me like they were expecting me to do something. Whoops. I guessed I should have been paying attention.

  This probably wouldn’t help with my “being picked last” problem.

  After a few moments of frozen silence, Fiona nudged me with her elbow. “You have to serve it.”

  Like food? I looked at her in bewilderment. I really should have listened to Mr. Edwards!

  “You’re in the server spot.” Fiona mimicked hitting the ball with her hand.

  Oh! I was in the last row, all the way to the right. Apparently, the person in this position had to hit the ball first.

  Okay, I thought. Here goes nothing.

  I hit the ball overhand with my open palm. Instead of flying over the net, it hit Maya Doshi in the shoulder, two rows in front of me.

  “Ouch!” She turned around, rubbing her shoulder.

  Hunter and Slade burst out laughing, pointing at Maya.

  “It’s not funny!” I said. “Sorry, Maya.”

  She nodded at me but didn’t say anything.

  “Make a fist,” Fiona said. “And hit it underhand.”

  I closed my hand and focused on putting all my power into my fist. I reared my hand back and brought it forward, launching the volleyball high over the net to the other side. It dropped between two kids who weren’t paying attention (probably not expecting my serve to actually make it over there). And my team got a point! I clapped excitedly.

  I didn’t know what was weirder: that Fiona had actually been helpful to me or that I’d finally found a sport I wasn’t terrible at.

  I was sad when it wasn’t my turn to serve anymore, but the other positions were fun, too. Especially the front row, where you can jump up high and try to spike it onto the other side. I did that two times! For once, being the tallest girl in my grade was kind of cool. Everyone on the team gave me high fives (except Slade Durkin, but who cared about him?).

  Usually, I watched the clock in gym class, begging time to go faster. But when I looked up and saw that there were only five minutes left, I was disappointed. The game was nearly over and we only needed one more point to win. Darcy and I were in the middle row. Slade was in front, which was good because he was our tallest player.

  The other team served, and it sailed to our back row, where Maya stood, wide-eyed. She tried to hit the ball back but ended up giving it a light tap.

  Oh no! I thought. I’d really wanted to win.

  But then I saw that the ball was right above Slade, in perfect spiking position. He would have no problem smashing it down on the other side of the net. Probably too fast for their front row to return it.

  But instead, Slade twisted to the
side. He spiked the ball, all right.

  Into Darcy’s face.

  She fell to the ground, covering her face with her hands.

  “Slade!” Mr. Edwards yelled. “What was that?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Edwards,” he said. “I don’t know what happened. I must have gotten turned around when I jumped up so high. It’s too bad Maya couldn’t hit it over the net.”

  “Oh, like this is her fault,” I snapped. “You did that on purpose!”

  He pretended to be shocked and put his hand to his chest. “I did not. I’m sorry Darcy got hurt, but that happens in sports. She should have been paying better attention.”

  The bell rang and Mr. Edwards dismissed everyone, clearly buying Slade’s story. I knelt beside Darcy and pulled her hands down. I was expecting a bloody nose, but her face was just bright red.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, and she nodded.

  I couldn’t believe she wasn’t crying. I would have been bawling.

  “Norah,” Mr. Edwards said. “Please bring Darcy to the nurse to get her checked out.”

  Slade put his hand out, offering to help Darcy up. She looked at him with narrowed eyes, but took his hand.

  He pulled her to her feet, then leaned closer and whispered, “That’s for Hunter.”

  All Darcy needed, according to the school nurse, was five minutes with an ice pack. So I sat next to my BFF on the vinyl couch in the nurse’s office and tried not to think about how many kids had probably barfed in there.

  I tried to focus on poor Darcy. She sat scowling with an ice pack on her nose. “I’d better not swell up,” she groaned.

  “Let me see,” I said.

  Darcy pulled the bag away. Her skin was a little puffy around her nose and it was bright red, but that would fade soon. It didn’t look like she would be left with a bruise.

  “It looks fine,” I said, trying to soothe her.

  Darcy squeezed the ice pack between her hands, and I had the feeling she was imagining it was Slade Durkin’s neck. “Slade did that on purpose.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Darcy gazed up at me, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe he’s the one who sent us the e-mails.”

  It was starting to seem like Darcy pointed the finger at whoever she was most angry with at that moment.

  Probably seeing the doubt on my face, Darcy added, “You heard what he whispered. He did that for Hunter, his best friend. And, while Hunter probably isn’t smart enough to think of a revenge plan like using our website, Slade would think of that. He’s more … diabolical.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jeez, Darcy, he’s not a demon.”

  “Still,” she continued, “think about it. Hunter and Slade. It could be them. Working together. Trying to get us to run around and solve a case that doesn’t exist. It’s just something they made up.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” I said. “Let’s continue with our plan and figure out if anyone in our class has April fourth as their birthday.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Then … maybe you’re right and it was only a joke.”

  I really hoped that wasn’t the case. Not because I was scared of Slade or Hunter making fun of us for believing a fake e-mail. But because I didn’t want all this excitement to be for nothing. Just the idea of that depressed me.

  Darcy was feeling better, so we left the nurse’s office. It was right next to the principal’s office, so we waved to the school secretary and told her we were heading back to class. We were halfway down the empty hallway when I stopped Darcy in her tracks.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “We can’t wait until after school to talk about this. We have to strategize now.”

  I heard a sound, like a shoe scuffing on the floor. We both looked back and forth, but the hallway was still empty.

  “Maybe we should split the class list in two,” I said. “I take half, you take half. And, over the course of the week, we ask every person what their birthday is and write it down.”

  Darcy grimaced. “Doesn’t that seem kind of … weird? I mean, some of them are going to want to know why.”

  I rubbed my arm. “You’re right. We need a cover story. But what reason could we possibly have for needing a list of everyone’s birthdays?”

  The noise came again, shoes shuffling on the floor. And then the door to the boys’ bathroom opened and Zane stepped out.

  He smiled. “I can help.”

  I suddenly forgot how to speak.

  Fortunately, Zane didn’t have the same effect on Darcy. She snapped, “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

  “Not on purpose,” Zane said. A little blush colored his cheeks. “I was in the bathroom and you guys were just, like, talking right outside of it.”

  “So you were listening to us,” Darcy retorted.

  I thought back over everything we’d said. Zane couldn’t have heard anything too bad. Only that we needed our classmates’ birthdays. Nothing about the missing twin. Finally, my throat loosened up and I could speak. “Stop giving him a hard time, Darcy. He offered to help.”

  As if suddenly remembering those were Zane’s first words after stepping into the hallway, Darcy’s eyes lit up. “How much did you hear?” she asked. “How exactly can you help?”

  “Well,” he said, stepping closer to us and lowering his voice, “I heard you two saying you need a list of our classmates’ birthdays. And that you didn’t want to go around asking one by one. So … I can get that for you.”

  Darcy narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “How?”

  He shifted his weight back and forth. “I’m head of the seventh-grade student council. I can pass out a form and ask everyone to write their name and birth date. I’ll tell them it’s for a student council project.”

  My spirits lifted. What a great idea! They’d all believe that. And Darcy and I wouldn’t have to go through the horror of asking each kid and deflecting their questions.

  “And you won’t tell anyone it’s for us?” Darcy asked.

  “Of course he won’t,” I piped up. Darcy was always so suspicious of people.

  But, then again, she’d probably say I was too trusting.

  I made plans to meet Zane after school on Thursday.

  I repeat … I made plans to meet ZANE.

  Sorry, I just like saying those words.

  Anyway, we chose Thursday afternoon so Zane would have a couple of days to get the “student council form” passed around. Zane and I decided to meet after school for the handoff. It was all so intriguing and fun. I felt like an international spy meeting a secret agent.

  The school was emptying out, with kids heading toward buses and cars. Darcy and I took the bus together through elementary school. But once we entered seventh grade, we started going here, Danville Middle School, which is only a couple streets away from our houses. So we don’t qualify for the bus anymore. Our moms drop us off in the mornings, but in the afternoons we walk home together.

  Except today. I told Darcy I’d meet her back at her house after I got the paper from Zane. Part of me might’ve even been hoping he’d offer to walk me home. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans as I waited.

  Zane came around a corner and smiled when he saw me. My heart was thudding so loudly I wondered if he could hear it.

  “Hey, Zane,” I said in what I hoped was a casual voice. Then I added in a whisper, “Did you get it?”

  He patted his backpack. “Yep!” His eyes were bright and excited, like he was keyed up for his part in the adventure. “This whole thing is so mysterious. I feel like I should’ve given you a secret signal.”

  I laughed. “Like they do in the movies!”

  “Yeah! Like … I’d run my fingers through my hair.”

  “But you do that a lot anyway,” I said quickly. The words came out before I could stop them, and my eyes widened. Now he’d know that I’d noticed that he often ran his hands through his hair. He’d think I stared at him all day long! Ah! Ah!

  Before I could go i
nto full panic-attack mode, Zane said, “Good point. The signal should be something I don’t normally do, so I can’t do it by accident.”

  “Yeah,” I said, hoping I wasn’t blushing too much. “How about you just rub your right ear?”

  “Like this?” He brought his hand up to his ear and wiggled it a bit.

  “Sure. That will work.”

  “Okay, then. That’s our secret signal.” He pointed at the exit. “Shall we?”

  We started walking side by side in front of the school. The sun was out and its rays felt warm on my face. The identity of our mystery client was in Zane’s backpack. And I was out here walking with him. Was he going to walk me all the way home? Could this day get any better?!

  “Well,” he said, stopping. He slid a bunch of folded-up papers out of his bag and handed them to me. “This has been fun.”

  I took the papers and smiled. “Thanks for your help on the case—um, I mean … thanks for … everything.”

  Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice my slipup. “No problem. But I’ve got to go. Someone’s waiting for me.” He aimed a thumb over his shoulder.

  Oh, I thought with some disappointment. Was his mom picking him up?

  I looked at where he was pointing, but it wasn’t his mom standing there.

  It was Maya Doshi. They were walking home together.

  I let myself into Darcy’s house and trudged up the stairs toward her room. Zane had been so nice and helpful. I’d really wanted him to have a crush on me. Though from the looks of it, he liked Maya. But I didn’t want to think about that, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. We had more important things to focus on.

  I entered Darcy’s bedroom, and my eyes immediately went to the dead body on her TV. I seriously didn’t know how she watches all those crime shows and then sleeps well at night. Darcy sat cross-legged on her bed, biting her thumbnail, entranced in what the TV detectives were saying. After noticing me, she sat up straight and said, “Did you get it?”

  I thought about playing a trick on her and pretending that I didn’t, but it was no use. My emotions are always written all over my face. She’d know I was acting. So I unzipped my bag and pulled the papers out victoriously.