TURNED OUT, AFTER THE HUBBUB in the sculpture garden had been taken care of, Becca had used Larissa’s phone to call Quinn. Our eyes in the sky had seen me confronting Lee and then chasing him. Quinn and Becca had coordinated to intercept him. But the kicker was that the real lead came from Ethan.
“He told me all about how Lee would sneak off to the shed,” Becca said as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs (real ones) from her Mary Poppins–like pockets and cuffed Lee. “He was very forthcoming.”
“No, really?” I said, laughing. “After all the nice things Lee did for him?”
“Everyone has a breaking point. Anyway, when the sisters said Lee was headed this way, I knew where to set up. You may be good at running, but not even you can run forever.”
“Maybe.” Becca laughed. Catching bad guys put her in a creepily good mood, which wasn’t hurt by the fact that she was right and had caught the saboteur for her mom. “Great detective work, by the way. Figuring out Lee was the other saboteur.”
“Thank you.” I guess I had managed to put the pieces together and solve the mystery, even though it’s not my usual gig. It felt good.
“Oh, and here.” Becca tossed me a moist towelette packet she must have been keeping in her shorts. “You have flecks of red on your face. What is it with you and paint?”
I scrubbed my face and looked soberly at the paint on my shirt. “One far-distant day, the best minds in the universe may figure it out. But today we are not so wise.”
“Will you two stop flirting?” Lee spat from his place facedown on the grass.
Becca leaned close to his ear. “Nope. Because you are too darn cute. In fact, you’re so cute, I think I should introduce you to my mother.” Lee visibly shivered and Becca laughed. “She’ll have some strong words to say about the attempted sabotage of Casey Kingston’s work, to say nothing of the sabotage of Diana and Justin’s paintings.”
“And the attempted sabotage of Sandra’s statue.” I leaned toward Lee. “Attempted.”
“Too bad about that other one, though,” Becca said, her lips twitching.
“Shut up,” Lee growled. “At least when you bring me in, I’ll get to tell Aaron what I think of him for destroying my art!”
Becca winced. “Sorry to disappoint you there, too.”
“Aaron?” I asked.
She got somber. “He got away. We did all we could. I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
“Aaron had appeared in the sculpture garden not long after you left,” Becca said. “Larissa and I saw him right away. He was carrying a can of red paint, and basically looking really suspicious. He obviously wasn’t expecting a welcome committee. We shouted at him and blocked his way to Sandra’s sculpture. He threw the paint can at me—good thing it still had the lid on—and when I caught it, he moved toward the statue. Larissa grabbed it to protect it.”
“But he wasn’t going for Sandra’s art,” I said.
She shook her head. “He pushed over the one next to it. The crash made us both jump back, and he ran away. You should have seen us: me throwing the paint can aside so I could chase Aaron, and Larissa clutching the statue. I ran after him and Larissa dealt with the adults, but I couldn’t catch him. He disappeared.”
Lee laughed. “You won’t catch him. But wait until I get my hands on him. I’ll—”
Becca squeezed his arm, making him go silent. “I’m sure what you’re planning is wonderful, but it will have to wait. Right now, you’re going to come with me and explain to my mom why you’re covered in paint.”
“You might also want to have him explain the paint-brush lying by Wall C,” I said. “And here’s this.”
I handed her the camera and pressed play. Lee’s confession rang out, and Becca beamed.
“Jeremy, you sure know how to give a girl a present. Evidence doesn’t get any better. Mom can’t ignore any of this. I call this a good day’s work.”
“I second that,” I said as Becca hauled Lee to his feet. “Come on, Wilderson. Let’s hand this creep off to the proper authorities.”
“Uhh, about that.” It’s not that I didn’t want to go back to the help office and face down Becca’s mom and all the guards I’d seen earlier. It’s just that I really didn’t want to.
“Your witness testimony might be necessary,” Becca said.
“I got you the recording. That should be enough.”
“But you were part of the investigation. You should be there with me.”
“I wish I could.” I really didn’t. “But I can’t. The awards ceremony is happening right now.”
Becca nodded. “Casey.”
“Yep. I should be there for him at least this part of today.” I examined the paint stains and sighed. “You’re my partner, sure, but he’s my friend. I owe him this.”
Becca smiled and glanced from Lee to me. “I get that. See you around, then, Wilderson.”
With that, she took Lee to meet his justice and I ran to the bathroom to change into the plaid shirt I’d hidden. It might have been stained, but it wasn’t splashed with red paint. I put it on and went to work scrubbing and peeling the stretchy paint off my face and arms. Once the worst of it was gone, I headed back to the tent.
I was late, so I snuck in and sat in the back row. Case was sitting up on the stage with the other contestants. He looked kind of sick. The awarding hadn’t happened yet.
“Hey, man.” Hack sat down next to me. “Whoa, what happened to that shirt? Why are you late?”
“Trouble hunting mountain lions. Why are you late?”
“Checking up on something,” Hack said. “Big.”
“Get-you-grounded-again big?”
Hack grinned and took his glasses off. “Maybe. Did you hear about the sabotage earlier?”
“Which one?”
“Lee’s. Not sure I care about that one, actually.”
“Me neither. So what were you checking up on?”
“A hunch. Someone isn’t as good as they think they are about covering tracks.”
“And that someone is?”
“Let’s just say that when the judges came in, I went looking for you. And you know what I saw? A dirty saboteur slinking out of the park, carrying a paint-soaked sponge in a bag. Probably trying to dispose of it. I got a picture and asked around, got a name. Guess what? He stupidly left his real e-mail address in the park volunteer database,” Hack said, his voice tinged with venom. “Case and I are going to pay him a visit and make him an offer he can’t refuse. You know the key to a good con.”
I nodded. “Give the mark what they want . . . .”
“Or, if that doesn’t work, threaten them with something they don’t.” Hack tilted his chair back and dramatically put his glasses back on.
“Nice.” I grinned. “So what will you do?”
“Too many people here. Let’s just say, for now, that I may have sent an e-mail to this certain someone offering some incriminating fingerprints I found. I may or may not have left out that no such prints exist. Too soon to tell. And when he gets back here for the meeting, Case and I are going to give him some very good reasons to turn himself in.”
“Uh-huh.” Case, Hack, and I had been tight for a long time, but this was the first time one of them was really scaring me. A forger and a hacker tend not to be the most threatening people, on first thought. They’re white-collar troublemakers who work alone with delicate, sensitive instruments. But while Hack was talking to me, I had visions of viruses, compromised security, and false homework assignments. Secrets uncovered, and fake closet skeletons with convincing paperwork to back them up. My friends were bad people to tick off. I had a feeling Aaron was about to discover that for himself.
I was so glad they were on my side. I was also glad that I’d successfully avoided being seen with Becca. The job was done.
So I sat back, watched the mayor finish his speech, and then waited as art teachers from various schools presented different awards. Sandra won Best Overall, Henry won Best Photograph, and the kid who had been muttering to himself in the tent won Best Sculpture for a statue of a dog wielding a lightsaber.
Diana and Justin were in the audience. I watched them, too. During the presentation of the Best Painting award, the mayor made a comment about the unfortunate tragedies of the day and his encouragement to the artists to “remember that art is a prize in itself.” At that, Diana looked at her lap and Justin twitched. We all read between the lines and knew they weren’t getting anything. My stomach squirmed, like I’d failed a job. This wasn’t right. Diana and Justin deserved more.
But that didn’t stop me, when they announced Casey Kingston as the winner of Best Painting, from joining Hack in rushing the stage and carrying our friend off in a tide of victory.“I can’t believe you did that,” Case said after the ceremony. “That was so tasteless.”
“It’s not like they took your newspaper picture right there,” I said. “That happens later, with your painting.”
“I know, but really? Rushing the stage?”
“Oh, you knew we were going to do it,” Hack said. “You would have been disappointed if we hadn’t.” His phone beeped and he looked at it. “Showtime.”
Case nodded, an evil glint in his eye. “Mess with the art show, will he?”
Oh yeah. My friends probably thought Aaron was the primary bad guy. The news of Lee’s arrest would have yet to hit the rumor mill. “Go easy on him, okay, guys? He might not be the criminal sludge bucket you think he is.”
Case and Hack looked at me, shocked. “Who do you think we are, Becca Mills?” Case asked.
“We have nothing but compassion for kids who turn to crime,” Hack added.
“But they don’t have to know that right away,” Case finished.
They’re scary when they do that.
“Want to come? I’m sure you’d love to ream out a criminal.”
After doing it twice that day, I was a little reamed out. Besides, I had an idea. “Love to, but can’t. There’s something I need to do. Catch you later?”
They nodded and I ran back to the shed and gathered up all the bits of my and Becca’s disguises. Time to return the clothes. It wasn’t like they were mine, anyway. The poncho, the muumuu, the hats, and the sunglasses. Even the buttons from our shoes. Everything except the shirt on my back went into a giant wad in my arms.
I must have looked strange as I walked into, around, and out of the art museum’s gift shop. The place was busy, so I got a lot of weird looks from shoppers. But I didn’t care. I walked through to the Lost and Found, which, despite the shop’s busyness, was deserted.
Well, almost deserted. As I set the bundle down carefully, a voice said, “Hey, Jeremy.”
I almost jumped out of my skin. I could have sworn there was no one in there! I looked around and saw Larissa by the door.
“I was at the lockers with my family and saw you come in,” Larissa said. She reached for the bundle. “Let me help you with that.”
I pulled away. “I’ve got it.”
Larissa stepped closer, looked at the bundle, and tilted her head. She reached under the poncho and pulled out two sets of brushes, the kind sold at the art museum’s gift shop. Which I had just passed through with a bundle of very obscuring cloth in my arms. “With all these people around too?” she said. “Pretty bold, thief.”
I snatched them back. “I’m not a thief. I return what was stolen or lost. Everyone knows Diana or Justin could have won if they hadn’t been sabotaged. They were robbed and they deserve something. Last year Aaron had a win stolen from him, and no one did anything about it. Maybe if someone had helped him then, the sabotages wouldn’t have happened this year. So, if no one else is willing to give the victims back what they lost, it falls to me.”
Larissa didn’t say anything. She just held the brushes in her hands. “Or me.”
“I could give the brushes to them. I have connections through my sister. And since you were the one who took them, wouldn’t it be safer for you if you didn’t have them anymore?” Larissa stopped. “Unless you want to be the one who gives them to Diana and Justin.”
I smiled. Normally I would have liked the glory, but it didn’t seem important in the moment and Larissa had made a good point. “Good thinking. You’d make a decent retrieval specialist. But it is a loss, not being able to get attention for this one. What will you give me in return?”
She looked startled. “Uh, what do you want?”
“The painting. The one you made to replace Quinn’s real painting. I want that one.”
She crinkled her forehead. “You’re welcome to it, after everything you did today. But . . . why? It’s not that good.”
I shrugged. “It’s good enough. I like the monster.” And more than that, I liked what it meant. Case says art is about subtext, and I would enjoy having a painting with the subtext of a girl willing to do anything to protect her sister.
Larissa smiled. She tucked the brush sets into the waistband of her pants. “I’ll deliver these as soon as I can. The painting, my painting, is behind the bases in the storage room. I swapped it for Quinn’s real painting during the awards ceremony. You can pick it up from there.”
“Great.”
“Are you going to keep that shirt?”
I looked down at the dirty plaid. “No choice. I don’t think whoever lost this would recognize it. If it cleans well, maybe I’ll return it when I come back to pay for those art supplies.”
“Pay? I thought you were a thief.”
“I thought I told you, I’m not. I just didn’t bring enough money today.”
Larissa nodded and walked to the door. She paused, her hand on the door handle, and looked back at me. “I’ll go in with you. On the brushes. I’ll pay half.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Consider it my thank-you. It was fun, today. Even with the fake accusation and getting lost in the air vents. It was exciting.”
I smiled. I knew how she felt. I’d been feeling it since my first job, that rush of adrenaline. “If you liked that, there’s a lot I could show you.”
“Yes, please!”
“I guess I’ll see you around,” I said.
“See you around.” And then she was gone.
Smiling, I left the museum and headed to the help-office storage room. Maybe bringing home some art would keep Mom from killing me over the shirt thing.
The door was open, so I just walked in and picked up the painting. The fiery monster glared at me. It reminded me of a warm version of Becca. I tucked it under my arm and left the storage room.
As I returned to the path, Becca burst out of the help office. “Jeremy, wait.”
“Gah!” Again, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “You two are so similar.”
“We two who?”
“Never mind.”
Becca pointed. “Why do you have that painting?”
“Gift from the painter. How’s it going with Lee?”
She shrugged, walking down the steps to meet me on the sidewalk. “Not bad. Your recording was very helpful. Exactly what we needed, by the way. Mom saved your file and gave me back the camera, which left me free to catch this on tape.”
Becca pressed the play button, and Detective Mills’s voice said, “Well done, Becca! You trusted your instincts and let them lead you to the truth. You’re going to make a great detective one day.”
She beamed and I patted her shoulder. “Good job. So your mom has everything she needs?”
“Oh yeah. This and the paintbrush, and Lee got a lot more chatty when Mom talked to him, but then, Mom usually has a way of getting people to cooperate.”
“I bet she does.” That time spent with the Elder Mills was still terrifyingly vivid.
Becca got closer. “It would be easier if we had Aaron, though.”
“Unless I’m very wrong, you’ll be seeing Aaron soon.”
Becca tilted her head. “How sure are you?”
“Pretty darn.”
“Wilderson, is this some kind of thief thing? What have you been up to?”
Stealing paintbrushes, just like you accused me of this morning. Ain’t you glad to be right? “This is harmless, I promise. If you need anything else for the investigation, like my statement or whatever, I live across the street. Just come over and get it from me.”
Becca smiled. “Thank you.”
“There was one other thing,” I said. “Did you listen to the tape?”
“Not all of it. Not yet, but I still have it saved. Why?”
“Lee knew about you. About your past jobs, and that you’d be here, tracking him, at the show. He knew things he shouldn’t have known.”
Becca furrowed her brow. “Maybe my reputation precedes me.”
“Yes, but not in a good way.” I lowered my voice. “He knew about the Mark job. He knew we had worked together.”
Becca’s lips tightened. “That’s impossible. We covered our tracks.”
“I thought so too. But Lee knew about everything. I think this source warned him about you before he came here today, so Lee knew to try to throw you off by letting Quinn take the heat.”
“That is interesting. How did he get this information? Did he say?”
“Lee told me he had a source who told him everything, but he wouldn’t give me a name.”
Becca nodded. “Lee’s being very forthcoming about sabotaging the paintings, but he hasn’t mentioned any kind of source. It could just be someone from our school spreading rumors. But still. Someone who warned him about me and knows about us . . . We should find out who this source is. I’ll try to get it out of Lee. He’s going to have a long, lonely summer. Maybe he’ll be more willing to talk in a few months.”
I shuddered as I thought about Becca’s interrogation tactics. “You do that. I’ll keep my ear to the ground and see what I find out.”
“Be careful. This person knows about you, too. They might know other things that you won’t want anyone else finding out. Your past jobs come to mind.”
That was a scary thought. “Still, I’ll see what I can turn up.”
“Let me know as soon as you find something. And, again, thank you for all your help today.” Becca pushed some hair behind her ear. “It meant a lot to me. I mean that.”
I smiled back and stuck out my hand. “What are partners for?”
Becca shook my hand. Her grip was firm and warm.
A sound like someone choking made me drop that hand and turn around.
Oh no. No. No.
Forget Lee. Forget his friend’s impossible knowledge. Forget Becca and Detective Mills. Forget Mom and Dad and Rick and everyone who had ever or could ever make my life difficult. This was a hundred, million times worse.
Case stood there, looking like he had swallowed his tongue. Hack stood beside him, cleaning his glasses so hard he was going to etch the glass with his shirt. Aaron was with them, apparently of his own accord, looking scared. As my friends gaped, he hurried into the help office.
“Uh, hi, guys,” I said. “Uh, how long have you been standing th—”
“Partners?” Case spat.
“Partners?”
“That long, huh.”
Now Lee’s mysterious friend wasn’t the only one who knew about Becca and me. My own friends knew. Oh man. If looks could kill, they’d have blasted my remains into dust by now.
Becca patted me on the back and walked into the help office. I was left alone, clutching a painting and staring at my two best friends. No explanation, no matter how clever, could take away the truth they had just heard.
My heart sank, lower and lower through my stomach on its way to my feet. Lee wasn’t the only guy who was going to have a long, lonely summer.