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.

I sped up to keep pace with her. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday,” I said.

“Are we going to talk about something I don’t already know?”

“How about, ‘I’m sorry’?” I stepped in front of Ivy so we could be face to face. “I am,” I said. “I’m really sorry.”

She eyed me warily. “Are you all done with the Miles thing? No more making your theories fit the case?”

“I was following logical clues,” I said, bristling at her tone. “It’s our job to check out every lead.”

“Oh, man,” she said. “Would it kill you to admit that that wasn’t the best call?”

“Partners are supposed to back each other up.”

“Not when one of them is going off on half-baked vendettas. I know you and Miles have a history—”

“I was following the clues. They led to Miles. That’s all there is to it.”

“Howard, I’m trying to be supportive, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to blindly follow you while you do whatever you want,” she said. “That’s not what a partnership is, remember?”

“It’s a little hard to tell lately,” I snapped, starting back up the sidewalk.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ivy said, chasing after me.

“The disappearing, the arguing.” The lying. “Feels more like I’ve been running a solo operation lately.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“What was going on with your grandma back there?

“What?”

“It looked like you were fighting.”

“Oh,” Ivy said, pulling apart a lock of her hair and twirling it on her fingers. “I told her about yesterday, and she was trying to get me to talk to you about it. Thought we should make up.”

“Ah,” I said, watching her out of the corner of my eye. Lying. Again. “Well, it’s not a bad suggestion. In theory.”

“Our execution sucks.” She smiled at me.

“Do-over?” I held out a hand to Ivy. Yelling and upfront questioning wasn’t working. I was going to have to stick to her like glue if I had any hope of figuring out what was going on. And a fresh start was the only way to do that.

“Sure.” She fist-bumped my open hand and kept walking. I felt like we’d put a bandage on a cut that kept splitting wider. Popping a piece of Juicy, I tamped down on the sick feeling that bubbled up in my stomach.

We walked the rest of the way to school in silence. I kept replaying the facts of the case as we knew them, trying to figure out what we’d missed. I had no idea what was going on in Ivy’s head. She plowed through the slush, her eyebrows drawn together in contemplation.

“Wallace! Mason!” Mr. Williams shouted at us from the corner of the schoolyard. He flailed his arms, beckoning us over.

“So much for keeping things under the radar,” I said.

“Updates,” Mr. Williams said as we walked up to him. “I want ’em and I want ’em now.”

“Well, sir . . .,” I started.

“Not here,” he hissed. “Honestly, Wallace. A little finesse goes a long way. Come on, come on, come on.” Mr. Williams hustled us into the school and down to his office. After checking to make sure the hall was clear, he shut the door and sat behind his desk. “Now, talk.”

“We don’t have much,” I said. “We’ve eliminated a number of suspects and we’re continuing to narrow down the field.”

“What are you, a politician?” The coach drummed his hands on the desk and took a slug from his water bottle. “I need details. Facts. Cold, hard evidence. What am I paying you for?”

I bit down on the retort that was struggling to escape from my mouth. “These things take time,” I said.

“Much like a mascot,” Mr. Williams said. “Time is something we do not have.” He wiped an arm across his forehead. “I’m going to level with you kids. Things have not been going very well for us this year.”

“With the team?” Ivy drew her notebook out of her bag.

“Yes, with the team,” the coach said. “We’re having our worst season in twenty years. The guys play like snails. Our bus broke down last month, and I had to pull every string I had in order to get us one for the tri-county tournament. Which we lost. Sparty’s gone. The Parents’ Association is talking about pressuring the school into appointing a new coach. We need to win this weekend.”

“We’re working on it,” I said.

“Work faster,” Mr. Williams said, leaning forward over the desk. “Work like your grades depend on it.”

“Are you threatening us?”

“Yes.” The coach nodded enthusiastically. “Find me Spartacus, or you fail.”

“Glad we cleared that up.”

Ivy and I showed ourselves out of the office. Mr. Williams called out after us, “I want that dog by Saturday morning!”

Hurrying up the hall to our lockers, I racked my brain trying to figure out which stone we’d left unturned. “We have to figure this out,” I said. “There’s got to be something we missed.”

“Retrace our steps?” Ivy suggested.

“We checked out the team, checked out Stoverton, checked out Miles,” I said. “What else is there?”

“We never finished checking out the team,” Ivy said. “Basketball. Face. Scrambled noggin. Remember?”

“Vividly.” I poked at my still-tender cheek. “We never searched the locker room either. Maybe that’s the key.”

“You’re going to make me miss lunch again, aren’t you?” Ivy sighed.

“When duty calls, you get it to go.”