Chapter Thirty

Ivy and I sat in the garage office, relaxing in the aftermath of a job well done. My partner scrolled through her phone. “Three more outlets have picked up Leyla’s story,” she said.

“She’s going to be unbearable now,” I said.

“She’s earned it.” Ivy grinned. “We couldn’t have pulled it off without her—or Carl.”

“What else does it say in there?” I nodded at her phone.

“Mr. Williams is under review. Suspended until further notice.”

“Good.” We’d heard from Marvin that Carl was back on the team. He said we were officially square now. Ellis, Ashi, Scotty, and the rest of the Arts Council were serving detention for their role in the dognapping, but they didn’t mind. The clubs were finally getting their field trip. Even better, after a number of editorials discussing the need for arts in schools, the Parents’ Association was spearheading new fundraising efforts for their programs. We’d survived watching a whole basketball game and, oddly enough, the Grudge Game had ended in a tie. After the dramatic events of the day, battling it out in overtime didn’t sit right. Both teams were happy to walk away on a handshake. Until next year anyway.

All in all, a job well done.

I looked over at Ivy, hanging out in the stinky, comfy chair, patting Blue’s handlebars. “Good work, partner.”

She grinned at me. “You, too.”

“Things got kind of hairy for a while there,” I said, nodding at her bag leaning up against the chair. “We never finished talking about that.”

Ivy pulled her bag up off the floor and fished out the rumpled white envelope. “I don’t know what else to say about it,” she said, worrying one corner after another. “And I definitely don’t know what to do.”

“I have an idea,” I said. Walking over to the filing cabinet, I opened the top drawer where we kept our open cases. “File it.”

“What?”

“File it,” I said. “We’ll deal with it when you’re ready.”

Ivy hopped up and peered into the drawer. “M for Mason?”

“Why start worrying about proper alphabetizing now?”

“Good point,” she said. “P for Pending Parental Problems.” She stuffed the envelope in the drawer and slid it shut. Ivy sighed and looked at me. “Thanks, Howard.”

I reached out to pat her shoulder and she grabbed me, pulling me in for a hug. “We’re partners, Ivy. That’s what we do.” What I should have been doing all along. I squeezed her back.

The garage shook as someone banged on the door. “Alright, relax,” I shouted, “I’m coming.” I opened the door to see not only the last person I expected, but five others.

“Hi,” said Miles.

“We’re going to the bakery,” said Ellis.

“To celebrate the fact that I’m famous,” Leyla said, grinning. Carl nodded.

“You guys should come,” Scotty added, and Ashi popped out from behind him. “Please?”

Ivy stood beside me in the doorway. She stayed quiet, leaving the decision up to me. My chest tightened as I stared at the crew before us. Staying in would be easy. Ivy looked at me and smiled a little. Going out would be interesting.

“Will there be hot chocolate?”

“It’s Mrs. Hernandez,” Ellis said. “There’ll be at least six kinds.”

“Let’s go,” I said, slapping on my hat and tossing my partner hers. Locking the door behind us, Ivy and I stepped out to join the group. As we made our way down to the sidewalk Leyla started talking about her Pulitzer acceptance speech while Ashi listened with wide eyes. Ellis and Ivy were chatting about the upcoming musical, and Carl and Scotty discussed new plays for the team.

Miles fell into step beside me. “This is kind of weird,” he said. I murmured in agreement. “But not bad weird?” He searched my face, trying to gauge a reply before I answered.

“No,” I said, watching everyone laugh and talk. “Not bad weird.”

“Where’d you get that hat?” He tipped a finger at his own forehead.

“This?’ Ivy swung back to sling an arm over my shoulder. She tapped at the brim of her own hat. “This you gotta earn.”

“Fair enough,” Miles said, hiding his smile. He caught up with Carl and Scotty to talk more shop.

I looked at my partner. “Don’t say it. Don’t even say it.”

“Bigger sticky notes, friend,” she said, looking out at the crowd in front of us. “We’re going to need bigger sticky notes.”