“Levain Bakery,” I read the blue sign aloud. “You have a contact here?”
“Contact?” Shelby said as she opened the door. “No, I need some inspiration.”
We walked in and the smell of freshly baked cookies made my mouth water. There wasn’t a lot of room in front of the glass bakery case that took up most of the width of the store, but behind it there were six different bakers scooping out huge dollops of cookie dough onto baking sheets.
Since I grew up not really being able to eat a lot of sweets, I’ve never craved them like Shelby. Well, I doubted anybody ate sweets like Shelby. But I had to admit seeing those huge gooey cookies made me jealous.
Shelby stood in line. “Do you want anything?” she asked.
My response was a glare. I mean, really? I wanted everything, but Mom wouldn’t have approved. I could only get away with so much. Yeah, she’d believe a white lie about plaster on my pants, but there was no way I could fudge my glucose levels.
Shelby began pointing to all the items she was ordering. I couldn’t help but laugh because this was the happiest I’d ever seen her. Her nose was practically pressed up against the case as she studied each item with a huge grin on her face. I had to remember that all it took to put her in a good mood was to be surrounded by sugar.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked as her items were being bagged.
She pulled a large chocolate peanut butter chip cookie out of the bag and took a huge bite. “It’s starting to come together.”
Shelby handed the cashier Mr. Crosby’s money.
“Wait. That’s what the money’s for?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we be using it for disguises or something?”
“Never doubt the power of sugar!” Shelby declared as we exited the bakery and headed back uptown.
Did she really need to say that to a diabetic?
“There are many things we have to consider, Watson,” Shelby said before shoving the remainder of the ginormous cookie into her mouth. Shelby chewed vigorously, then gave me a smile. “I hope you don’t mind spending your day off working. I’m going to need your help.”
“Of course!” I replied with a laugh. I think this was the first time Shelby had ever asked me for help. I was always ready to get involved.
“Great!” Shelby said as she licked chocolate off her hand. “Because you are going to play a vital role in this case, Watson. Without you I’m afraid I’d be pretty useless inside the school. I need someone on the outside to do a very crucial task.”
“Awesome!”
“I have it all figured out, but being able to successfully retrieve Mr. Crosby’s watch from Ms. Semple’s safe will require everything to go precisely as planned. There are many ways things could go wrong. But I’m not worried. I know you’re the right man for the job, Watson.”
“I sure am! I’m up for anything!” I was feeling pretty confident as we waited for the walk signal at 125th Street. When I first started working with Shelby, she questioned my talents. But no longer! I was her man! We had this!
“Splendid, Watson! I knew that I could count on you. We’re not going to let something trivial like the law get in the way of this case.”
Wait. WHAT?!
Shelby continued, oblivious to the look of panic that had appeared suddenly on my face. “So happy you aren’t worried about a tiny thing like getting arrested. All part of the job!”
The walk sign lit up and Shelby bounced across the street, while I stood there frozen as people maneuvered around me.
What exactly had I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER
13
“Yo, Watson!” Jason called out to me. “Are you playing ball or what?”
“Sorry,” I replied as I shook my head to get all my worries out of my mind. It was Saturday morning, and I was playing baseball at Marcus Garvey Park with Jason and Carlos. John Wu was rehearsing for a play, and Bryant was convinced if he practiced more, he could finally one-up Shelby in music class. While I applauded the guy’s commitment to violin, I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was pretty impossible to beat Shelby in anything.
I had thought that spending a few hours tossing around a ball would clear my head. It ended up giving me more time to think, and worry, about Monday.
Even though there wasn’t a lot for me to think about since I still had no idea what I was going to be doing. And I mean no idea. Every time I asked Shelby, she’d simply reply that she was working on it and it would be really simple and “technically not illegal.” Oh, yeah, she also said that my “safety wasn’t going to be in jeopardy.”
Somehow that didn’t comfort me.
“Watson?” Jason waved his arms around to get my attention.
So much for taking my mind off things.
“How about a break?” I called out.
“Yeah,” Jason replied. He jogged over to me with Carlos behind him. “We got to figure out what we’re going to do on Monday.”
“Oh, I know,” Carlos said. He lifted his chin at me. “We need to take Army Dude to hallowed ground.”
“What do you think, Watson?” Jason asked. “You must be dying to go to Rucker’s.”
“What’s Rucker’s?” I asked.
“No way, man!” Carlos threw his hands up. “Please do not tell me you’ve never heard of Rucker Park?”
“Ah, clearly,” I said as I punched him on the shoulder. “So you got me. What am I missing?”
“Okay, okay.” Carlos wrapped his arm around my neck. “Let me educate you. The legends, the greats—Dr. J and Chamberlain, Kobe and LeBron—have all played there. Kevin Durant lit up the place with sixty-six points during one game. This is where the elite practice their skills. It’s the place to play basketball in New York City. Let all those Wall Street poseurs have the West 4th Street court. We’ll take Rucker’s. The best part: it’s in Harlem.”
“Whoa,” I said in awe. I knew there were a ton of historic places in New York City and my neighborhood. I’ve walked by the Apollo Theater a few times, and Mom told me that a lot of big acts got their start there, like Michael Jackson when he was with his brothers in the Jackson 5. But I thought the only big-time places to play ball were at stadiums like Madison Square Garden. It was amazing that such an important court was in Harlem. And that I could actually play there.
“Usually it’s hard to get into a pickup game on the weekend,” Carlos continued. “The dudes that hang there are always older, taller, faster, and better. But on Monday morning it should be pretty dead. We can finally have our time.”
Jason and Carlos high-fived each other. I joined in until I realized I had something else to do on Monday. What that was, I had no idea, but as much fun as a good game of basketball could be (especially on sacred ground), nothing could match the rush of being on a case with Shelby.
“Ah, this Monday?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“Um, yeah, this Monday,” Carlos said as he nudged me. “What other Monday do we have off?”
“I can’t.” I hung my head in disappointment.
Unless maybe I could do both? I knew Shelby and I were going to the school in the morning, but the way she made it sound, we weren’t going to be there all day.
“What about the afternoon?” I suggested, not wanting to miss out.
“No way. It’ll be too busy then. Morning’s the best shot. What do you got going on Monday?”
Mom had asked me that same question last night. I’d told her that Shelby was going to take me to the Museum of Natural History. Even though I’d been in New York for almost two months, Mom still didn’t trust me to wander too far away from the apartment or school by myself. Since Shelby had been living here her entire life, Mom didn’t mind if I went places with her. As long as I wasn’t working on one of her cases.
I was going to be in so much trouble if she ever found out the truth.
“I have a doctor’s appointment,” I lied. If I told them I was working with Shelby, the guys would pump me for details. While I wanted
them to know I was doing some cool sleuthing or whatever, I had to keep it a secret since Mr. Crosby was involved. Maybe I could meet up afterward and tell them about how we saved the day.
“That’s a shame, man.” Jason swung his bat to warm up. “Just text me when you’re done, oh …”
Yeah, I couldn’t text him because Mom still refused to let me have a cell phone. Everybody else in my grade seemed to have one.
“I’ll give you a call when I’m done,” I said, trying to not shudder from embarrassment.
“Sure, sure.” Jason took a practice swing. “Let’s get back to it.”
Carlos threw me the ball, and I went to the pitcher’s mound. I took the baseball in my hand, wound up for the pitch, and let the ball fly. Jason swung, and the ball went sailing past Carlos’s head in the outfield.
“Nice job, man!” I called to Jason as he took a victorious lap around the bases, pumping his fists in the air.
I relaxed as I decided to focus on the positive: I was having fun with my new friends. They were great. School was going well.
Now all I needed was for things to go smoothly on Monday. That whatever I was going to do wouldn’t land me in jail.
Or worse, grounded.
CHAPTER
14
“There you are, John!” Mrs. Hudson called out to me as I started climbing the steps to the front door of our building. “I have someone I want you to meet!”
I really wanted to shower after playing in the park, but I turned around and headed down the stairs to her garden apartment. I’d only been in Mrs. Hudson’s place a couple of times. I really didn’t know a lot about her except that she was originally from Colombia, and that there didn’t seem to be a Mr. Hudson. Her apartment had the exact same layout as our apartment above, except that she had access to the garden in the backyard.
“John,” Mrs. Hudson said as I entered the living room, “this is my niece, Becky.”
A white girl with straight black bangs and chin-length hair, who was around seven or eight years old, sat as stiff as a board on the sofa with her legs crossed at her ankles. She had on a plaid dress and white cardigan, paired with white knee-high socks and black patent leather shoes. I looked back and forth between her and Mrs. Hudson trying to see the resemblance. They shared the same tanned-skin complexion, but that was about it. Mrs. Hudson always had her hair pulled into a messy bun and wore flowing dresses and skirts. This girl seemed way too uptight to be related.
“Hello, John,” Becky said with a quiet, high-pitched voice. “It’s lovely to meet you. Auntie has said so many wonderful things about you and your mother.”
“Thanks,” I replied. I felt uncomfortable just standing there, so I sat on the chair opposite her, wondering how long I’d have to stay.
“Why don’t I get you some milk and cookies,” Mrs. Hudson said before she disappeared into the kitchen.
“So where are you from?” I asked. “Do you live around here?”
“Oh heavens no, I wish! I live in boring old New Jersey, but I love visiting my auntie. How long have you lived here?”
“Almost two months.”
“So you must’ve met the Holmeses, then.” She gave me a shy smile.
“Yeah, they’re really great.”
Mrs. Hudson walked in and placed a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk on the coffee table before retreating to the kitchen. Becky carefully picked up a cookie and took the smallest bite out of hers, chewing it slowly. My stomach growled from my morning with the guys. I decided Mom would be okay with me having a cookie since these were about a tenth the size of those at Levain Bakery. I took a big bite, hoping that with a full mouth I wouldn’t be expected to say anything. I usually didn’t have a problem making small talk (moving from army post to army post made you quick at making friends), but I wasn’t used to being around someone so prim and proper. I felt like I was having tea with royalty.
“Auntie mentioned that you work with Shelby on some cases.”
I finished chewing before replying, “Yeah, we’re partners.”
“That must be interesting.” Becky took another tiny nibble of her cookie. Apparently the guys at school weren’t the only ones who wanted to know what it was like to work with Shelby. If only more people were reading my online journal. I barely had twenty readers.
“Yes, it’s never a dull moment with Shelby, that’s for sure.” I debated how much to tell her. I didn’t want Becky visiting my mom and spilling my secrets.
Becky gave a very girly giggle and covered her mouth. “I’m sure that’s true. Auntie sometimes refers to her as A Big Handful in a Tiny Package.”
I laughed loudly. “You have no idea.”
Becky grimaced, in a very familiar and disturbing way. Then I watched as she slumped back, kicked off her shoes, and rammed the rest of the cookie into her mouth. “Et tu, Watson?”
Wait a second. I stood up and examined Becky from head to feet. She still looked the same, but her entire demeanor had changed.
“It’s safe to enter now, Mrs. Hudson!” Becky called out, but in a different voice. A very familiar voice. A sickening feeling started to take over my stomach, one that had nothing to do with the cookie I inhaled.
Mrs. Hudson came out of the kitchen clapping her hands. “This is all so exciting, I could hardly keep a straight face! I don’t know how you do it, Shelby!”
SHELBY?!
“Well, it’s clear my disguise works. Although I don’t know why on earth you felt the need to change my name.” Shelby reached up and pulled a wig off her head.
“I’m sorry, Shelby, but I couldn’t remember that silly name you came up with.”
“There’s nothing silly about Basia Rathbone,” Shelby remarked. “An unusual name is an easy one for a mark to forget or misremember.”
Mrs. Hudson looked impressed. “Oh, you think of everything, Shelby! I’m glad I could help, especially since you’re being so brave helping your teacher.” Mrs. Hudson turned to me, but I was still in shock over Shelby’s transformation. “What do you think of my handiwork, John? I was thrilled when Shelby asked me for a makeover.”
“It’s not a makeover, it’s a disguise,” Shelby protested.
“Of course, dear.” Mrs. Hudson patted Shelby on the head, but Shelby swatted her hand away. “Let me get you some more milk!” She headed toward the kitchen, leaving me alone again with “Basia.”
I knelt down in front of Shelby to study her face. “So it’s makeup?” I asked. Gone were Shelby’s freckles and porcelain skin.
“It’s makeup and a wig, but most of all it’s a commitment to a character. I don’t just dress up, I become: voice, posture, body language, everything.” Shelby took a giant bite of a cookie.
Honestly, out of everything I witnessed, the fact that Shelby was able to take tiny nibbles as “Becky” or “Basia” or whoever was probably the most impressive. That was commitment!
“On Monday morning, Basia Rathbone has an interview with Ms. Semple about possibly attending Miss Adler’s. She fell for the e-mail I sent as Basia’s mother. Everything’s in place and working according to my detailed plan.”
“Cool! Do I need an alias for Monday?” I started to get excited about who I could pretend to be. I really needed to start paying attention to how other people carried themselves so I could fully become someone else like Shelby had.
“Not this time.”
“Oh.” I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment.
I looked over to the kitchen door, unsure how much Mrs. Hudson knew. “Does Mrs. Hudson know everything?”
I was nervous about Mrs. Hudson bumping into my mom in the hallway and discussing our cases, specifically my involvement in them. Plus, there was a little pang of jealousy that Shelby trusted someone else to help with her cases.
“Mrs. Hudson is strictly on a need-to-know basis,” Shelby replied as she scratched her head, making her usual unruly hair stick up even more. “She used to buy me flowery hair bands, so she was thrilled that I as
ked her to make me look like a Miss Adler’s girl.” Shelby looked down at her outfit with disgust.
“Didn’t you have to dress up when you went there?”
“Yes.” Shelby pretended to gag. “I was required to wear their uniform, but I wasn’t happy about it. And I didn’t bother with things like perfect hair or being a girly girl. Miss Adler’s couldn’t brainwash me into turning into their version of the perfect student: quiet, well behaved, and, worst of all, boring. But that is all in the past. On Monday I’m not Shelby Holmes; I have to be Basia Rathbone. Ms. Semple can’t know it’s me.”
“Well, it worked with me,” I replied. Shelby really didn’t look anything like herself. “Hey, so do you know how long it’s going to take at the school? I was hoping that I could join the guys to play some ball after we’re done.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. We won’t be more than an hour at Miss Adler’s. It’ll be quick and easy.”
My mood instantly improved. I was going to be able to do both things: solve crime and play basketball! Everything was going to be okay.
Shelby shrugged her shoulders. “It’s truly remarkable how panicky people can get in a fire.”
WAIT.
WHAT?
WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT A FIRE?
CHAPTER
15
No, I wasn’t going to start a fire.
At least, as Shelby kept assuring me, I wasn’t technically starting a fire.
Guess how much that comforted me?
Yep. Zilch.
“It’s simply a device that lets out a lot of smoke, not fire,” Shelby explained as she stood on a step stool in her kitchen on Sunday afternoon. She was stirring some weird mixture on the stove. It looked like peanut butter. “It’s the appearance of fire. This is a very simple science experiment.”
Simple for who exactly?
“Figured it must be you in the kitchen with that odor.” Shelby’s older brother, Michael, entered with Shelby’s English bulldog, Sir Arthur, trailing after him. “Do I even want to speculate as to what you’re doing?”
The Great Shelby Holmes Meets Her Match Page 6