Chapter 7

“Elsa!” Olivia called. “I have to talk to you!”

I opened the door and herded her inside, then shut it quickly. “Hey, have you seen my parents?”

“They’re at a donor meeting, why?” she said. Then she saw Anson. “Ohhh. Got it. Don’t worry, they went to some restaurant in town for it. They won’t be back for a while. Anyway, Anson, I’m glad you’re here because this concerns you.” She unfolded a thick sheaf of white paper. “I was doing a little research yesterday after we left the library, looking up more about the black-market exotic animal trade and wildlife cafés. And it just seemed like I was getting nowhere.” She looked up at us.

“But?” I encouraged her. “I get the feeling you’re about to tell us something important.”

She held up a finger. “And then, I saw this!” She held up her phone in front of us.

I took it from her, and Anson leaned in to see. She had the same article from yesterday pulled up, the one with the photos of the Tokyo café. Same people drinking foamy drinks, same exotic animals walking around on the floor.

“And?” I said.

Olivia tapped her finger on one of the pictures. “Look at that cage in the corner.”

I zoomed in closer. A lean, elegant cat was walking around in a cage—it was partly blurred, as if the animal had been in motion when the photo was taken. It looked larger than a house-cat and colored almost like a mini-leopard.

“It’s beautiful, but so what?”

“That cat is called an ocelot,” she continued. “They live mostly in South America now, and they’re very rare in the United States. They used to be hunted for their fur. Between that and the loss of their habitat, you just don’t find them in the wild in the U.S. They’re considered exotic animals—most states ban owning them as pets. Which is why they’re also really valuable on the black market.”

Olivia paused, and I began to get an inkling of where she was going. “I knew I’d seen a cat like her before,” Olivia went on. “I just couldn’t remember where. It was bugging me. Then I remembered—”

My mind had been spinning as Olivia spoke, and I gasped. At the same time we said, “In Megan’s car!”

The three of us stared at each other. “So you’re saying that Megan bought that ocelot on the black market?” Anson said.

“Or she stole it from somewhere, and is planning to sell it to a place like this!” Olivia jabbed her phone so hard I was surprised she didn’t crack the screen.

My mind felt as if it was racing ahead of me. I almost couldn’t keep up. “And if she has connections to the black market…”

“Then who’s to say she’s not trying to use those connections with our otters?” Olivia finished my thought.

“Whoa, whoa.” Anson held up his hand. “That’s a lot of ifs. Just because this lady was driving around with a weird cat in her car doesn’t mean she’s stealing animals to sell on the black market.”

“That’s exactly what it could mean!” I almost shouted. I held up a finger. “Number one, this lady we’ve never seen before shows up here to volunteer.”

“We’ve never seen a lot of our volunteers before,” Olivia pointed out.

I frowned at her. “Shh. Listen. Number two, she spends time with otters.”

“Again, so do a lot of other people,” Olivia chimed in.

“Are you helping me here or not?” I said.

“Sorry, sorry! Just playing devil’s advocate.” She held up her hands in defense.

“Number three, otters disappear. We find out they’re popular on the black market. Number four, that same lady we’ve never seen before is seen with a black-market animal in her car.” I sat back in my chair. “Boom! Megan is an otter thief.” I let my arms dangle. “My work here is done.”

There was a little silence. “You’re forgetting one thing,” Olivia said.

“What?”

“Megan is accusing Anson of being the otter thief. Oh, and your parents believe her.” She looked at me expectantly.

“That’s even more reason we have to prove Megan’s the thief! We have to clear Anson’s name.”

“I just have one question,” Anson piped up.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“How are we going to prove Megan’s the thief?” he asked.

“We’re going to have to check her house,” I replied with more confidence than I felt. “If she’s keeping the otters there, that’ll be all the proof we’ll need.”

Just as the words were out of my mouth, the office door banged open. My mom barged in.

“Mom!” I gasped. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until later.”

Her face was grim as she looked back and forth from Olivia to Anson to me. “I was interrupted and had to leave early. I suppose it’s a good thing Anson is here. It saves us a trip. The three of you, come with me.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the office. The three of us shared an uneasy glance before following. Whatever this was about, it didn’t look good.