Chapter Twenty

Three things I never thought I’d need to know:

• A pacemaker built for humans also works for dogs.
• A used pacemaker is free – but someone has to donate it, and thatmeans dying first, which may not happen on the dog’s schedule.
• A brand-new pacemaker costs about five grand.

Obviously, Banksy is worth every penny for a new pacemaker, but Syd can barely afford the cost of the surgery. Mrs Stark picked up the huge bill for the emergency clinic, but the rest of her savings are tied up in a nonrefundable down payment for a face-lift. Mr Stark is tapped out because of Charlotte’s implants. Neither of Syd’s parents sees the sense in borrowing money for a five-year-old dog that has a life expectancy of ten years.

It’s a crime. Apart from Kali and me, that dog is Syd’s family. The reason she depends on him is because she can’t depend on them.

Syd would probably resort to desperate measures to get the money if she could, but the vet told her to stay close and keep the dog calm and quiet. For the moment, she’s in a holding pattern, calling the vet constantly and rushing home at lunch and after school every day.

Kali and I are trying to raise the money ourselves, although we decided not to tell Syd in case we fall short. Half a pacemaker isn’t going to cut it. We’re off to a strong start, though, with over four hundred dollars already.

As usual, inspiration came to me first in the kitchen. I baked hundreds of gourmet dog biscuits, and Kali packaged them with bows. We’ve been hawking them in the dog parks and at the Recipe Box. Unfortunately, we can’t sell the biscuits at school. It would be too much of a blow to Syd’s pride, given her cherished outsider status.

Meanwhile, we’ve also been holding down the fort on Love, Inc. Luckily, our only current revenge case is strictly voluntary. Even if Hollis has dumped Fletcher for good, someone still has to teach that guy some manners. Since we can’t stake out the Maroons’ equipment room every night, we bought a couple of tiny wireless cameras and a monitor off the Internet.

Kali interviewed two of the team’s former noseguards who suspect Fletcher is behind their fall from glory. One of them was only too happy to lend Kali a key to the equipment room. The other did a little legwork to find out the best time for our visit.

‘A bunch of college scouts are coming to the game tomorrow,’ Kali says as we flip the laundry cart in the equipment room and clamber on top of it. ‘If Fletcher’s going to make a move, it could be tonight.’

Our theory is that Fletcher will try to take out at least one of the Maroons’ two star defense players so that he’ll get a higher profile in the game. We have no idea how he might strike, though. Fletcher may be vile, but he isn’t stupid. He knows that using the same approach repeatedly will eventually get him busted. We’re hoping that this time he’ll decide to tamper with a teammate’s equipment. If so, we’ll catch the whole thing on camera.

Kali holds the flashlight as I tuck the first camera into a nook overhead. ‘So, was I right about René and my mom, or was I right?’ she asks.

I shush her. There is no way we can explain our presence here if the coaches get out of their meeting early and hear us. But Kali is stoked that her little nudge in pushing René and her mom together worked out. Their lunch went so well that they went out the next day, and again yesterday.

‘It all starts with one shared interest,’ Kali says.

I’m hoping it takes more than that. Mom and Xavier share an interest in business, and it’s blinded her to the quality of the design and logo he developed for the Yasin Valley line. I know Mom wanted blues and greens to conjure up images of the real valley, but Xavier says the orange-and-brown image he’s chosen will test better in consumer surveys. He says it’s earthy. I say it’s depressing. Mom claims to like Xavier’s design, which can only mean she likes him.

Kali and I mount two more cameras to capture every angle of the room before making a discreet exit. Next door, in the girls’ locker room, we hide the receiver that picks up the transmission through the walls and records the information onto a downloadable file. We’ll have to screen hours of footage, but Kali claims to be looking forward to it.

We’re giggling with relief as we make our way through the mostly empty halls toward the main exit.

‘I can’t wait to tell Syd we pulled this off,’ Kali says.

‘I really hope Fletcher comes through with some black magic,’ I say. ‘Slamming him is probably the only thing that could cheer Syd up right now.’

Brimming with energy, Kali tells me that she’s had two dates with Caleb – a personal record since Eric.

‘Just don’t ask me to babysit Hannibal while you’re touring someday,’ I say, recalling the oven mitts Caleb needed to handle the killer rabbit.

She turns the tables. ‘How about you and Andrew?’

‘We talked for half an hour last night, and we’re getting together this week.’

‘Get out,’ Kali says. ‘Is your cold heart thawing?’

‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘I’m giving it my best shot – for my matchmaker.’

As we make our way down the steps and across the lawn, a guy with spiky black hair and a dusting of stubble on his cheek calls Kali’s name. He’s wearing a brown jacket over a red T-shirt, skinny black jeans, and pointy brown shoes. The overall effect is punk-meets-rockabilly.

‘Max!’ Kali says, sounding surprised. ‘I am so sorry. I forgot to cancel our meeting. She introduces me and adds, ‘Max is Madison Manson’s brother.’

Max grins. ‘Madison Simpson when she’s not on the rink.’

Now I know what’s going on. After history class last week, Rambo told me that Madison’s brother had been asking about Syd. They met briefly when she went to the diner with Rambo to track down Madison. Now Max has asked Rambo to find out if Syd will go out with him, and Rambo is reluctant to bring up the subject with the lady herself, when she has sworn off guys forever.

Kali was only too pleased to take over. She gave Max a call to find out a bit more about him. He goes to an arts school, when he’s not keeping score for his sister’s roller derby team. That information, combined with his quirky good looks and friendliness, were all she needed to decide that she would help Max catch Syd’s attention. A direct setup is highly unlikely to work on Syd, so Kali must have arranged for a casual run-in today. Then Banksy got sick.

‘Syd’s dog collapsed on the weekend,’ Kali explains to Max now. ‘We’ll have to postpone.’

Max jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘You could make a donation if you want,’ Kali suggests, describing the Banksy fund.

Max counts out four five-dollar bills before heading off.

‘How nice was that?’ I say. ‘I know he has a crush, but twenty bucks is—’

‘Syd!’ Kali sounds a lot guiltier than she needs to, given the circumstances.

Syd has appeared seemingly out of nowhere, looking anxious and exhausted.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask.

‘I go to school here,’ she says.

‘Usually you’re at home with Banksy by now.’

‘I came back to ask my Science teacher if I can postpone my exam until Banksy is better. Which he isn’t, thanks for asking.’

‘We haven’t had a chance to ask,’ I say. Syd is clearly so miserable, she wants the rest of the world to suffer too.

‘I can see you’re distracted,’ she says. ‘That guy is Madison’s brother and I saw him give you money. Are you doing a job without me? Keeping me out of the loop on purpose because you think I’m such a mess over my dog that I’m going to screw up?’

‘Syd, we’re trying to give you some downtime,’ I say. ‘You’ve got enough on your mind without worrying about work.’

‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ Kali says, always dangerous words, ‘but you’re being irrational.’

I jump in to preempt Syd’s strike. ‘She’s probably not sleeping much.’

Syd opens her mouth, but before anything caustic escapes, a little head on a big bike streaks toward us across the lawn. Braking at the last minute, the biker spins out his back wheel and sprays a perfect arc of turf all over us.

‘If it isn’t the three raging lesbians,’ Fletcher says. ‘Setting out to convert unwilling girls to their cause.’

Kali herds us off school property, and Fletcher follows. ‘What do you want?’ she asks.

‘I want you to mind your own business,’ he says, cutting in front of us and blocking the sidewalk.

There is no way he could know what Kali and I have just done, so she gives him a fake smile. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘For starters, stay away from Hollis. You’re filling her head with ideas.’

‘Consider it done,’ I say.

We fan out and walk around him, but he circles us again and blocks our path. ‘I know you’ve been talking about me. Did you really think you could ask questions and I wouldn’t hear about it?’

‘It was for a term paper on bullying,’ I say. ‘We were researching the master.’

We start walking, but Fletcher continues to circle us, cutting ever closer. ‘Well, I’ve been asking about you too. I’ve heard some interesting stories.’

‘Whatever,’ Kali says.

‘No, I mean it, matchmaker. If half the stuff I hear is true, it’s amazing you guys have time for school.’

We stop in our tracks.

‘I thought that might get your attention,’ Fletcher says. ‘I don’t know what you’re up to right now, but I want you to think long and hard before you ever play one of your stupid tricks on me. Because it’ll be the last thing you do.’

‘Oooh, scary,’ Kali says. She probably is scared. I sure am. Fletcher is as mean as they come, and we know he likes to play dirty.

He stops in front of Syd. ‘I hear your doggie isn’t doing too well these days. It would be a shame if anything happened to him.’

What little color there was in Syd’s face drains. ‘Stay away from my dog.’

‘Then stay out of my business,’ he says. ‘Even a sick pooch can’t resist a poisoned wiener. Catch my drift?’

He doesn’t wait for an answer, but pedals back toward the school.

‘Call off our slam,’ Syd says.

‘But—’ Kali starts.

‘Fine,’ I interrupt. ‘We can’t put Banksy at risk.’

A silver Audi is idling by the curb. As we approach, the driver’s window rolls down. ‘You guys wanna lift?’ Willem asks.

Syd walks around the car and gets into the passenger seat, so Kali and I jump into the rear.

Willem gets straight to the point. In addition to the spa offer, he’ll pay us seven hundred dollars to get the answer he needs, with a bonus of a hundred each if we can pull it off before Valentine’s Day.

‘Addison is starring in a big musical revue for one of her dad’s charities that day,’ he explains. ‘Afterward, the governor is throwing a coming-out party for her. Everyone we know will be there. It’s the perfect time to propose.’

‘If you really have doubts about Addison, maybe you should hold off on proposing,’ Kali suggests.

He shakes his head stubbornly. ‘We’re meant to be together. I want to know if you can help me or not. I’m leaving with my family for the holidays next week.’

‘Consider it done,’ Syd says, from the front seat.

‘What she means,’ Kali says, ‘is that we’ll need to discuss this privately. The majority rules.’

‘What I mean is that I need the money,’ Syd says. ‘And I’ll do it myself if I have to. This is my area of expertise anyway.’

The car pulls to a stop for a light, and Syd hops out. ‘I’ll be in touch, Willem. I’ve got your number.’

I sit down with my hot chocolate and try calling Syd. The call goes straight to voice mail as it has each time I’ve called her over the past four days. Three friends are chattering happily at the table next to mine, and it gives me a pang of regret over our recent trouble with Syd. She’s been dodging us at school, she hasn’t been returning our calls or texts, and today isn’t any different. I understand why she’d want to take on Willem’s case, but with Fletcher’s network of evil keeping an eye on us, we have to be extra careful.

That didn’t stop Kali and me from collecting our equipment from the locker rooms, but unfortunately we can’t use the evidence we found. I know the Maroons’ coach would be interested in seeing the footage of a hooded intruder creeping into the football equipment room and messing around in two specific cubbyholes just hours before the big game. At one, he made adjustments to a helmet and smeared something on the mouth guard. At the other, he fiddled with a pair of cleats and sprinkled some powder under the cup in a jockstrap. For a while it looked like we wouldn’t get a good look at the intruder’s face, but finally he pushed back his hood to reveal a pinhead and swampy eyes.

Fletcher’s threats to Banksy meant our hands were tied. Luckily, neither Maroon defenseman was seriously hurt, although both were benched early, giving Fletcher a chance to shine for the college scouts. It makes me sick to think he got away with it, but there’s nothing we can do right now. Kali and I didn’t even mention it to Syd. We don’t want to add to the tension.

That doesn’t mean I can’t keep calling Syd, though. Framily doesn’t give up on framily.

I’m just finishing another voice mail when my next client comes in – a cute guy with auburn hair and freckles. ‘Zahra?’ he asks, taking a seat on the sofa opposite me. ‘I’m Ben.’

Ben and I have spoken several times but never met in person. He’s booked a session with me because he’s worried that his girlfriend is slipping away. She’s been distant lately, but whenever he’s tried to discuss what’s bothering her, she insists everything is fine. Hopefully a frank conversation with an impartial third party will clear the air.

We’re still waiting for Ben’s girlfriend to show when a tall strawberry blonde straight out of the pages of Interview magazine steps into the café and looks around: Juliette. I sink into my seat, hoping she won’t notice me. The last thing I need is her hanging around while I’m trying to work.

‘Over here, babe,’ Ben calls. Juliette turns and smiles.

Correction: the last thing I need is to waste my mediation skills on the girl who’s two-timing Ben with Brody.

‘Hi,’ Juliette says, joining us. I’m still trying to figure out how to play this when she takes the reins. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Juliette.’

‘Zahra,’ I say, extending a hand for the air shake.

‘Benny,’ she says, slipping into the chair beside mine. ‘Could you grab me an herbal tea before we get started?’

He leans over to kiss her cheek before walking to the counter.

‘So you’re not just a Love, Inc. client,’ Juliette says, proving she’s a bit sharper than she came across originally.

‘No,’ I say. ‘But we try to keep a low profile.’

‘Client confidentiality guaranteed?’ she asks.

I take a sip of my hot chocolate and force a smile. ‘We do our best.’

‘Then please don’t tell Ben we’ve met,’ Juliette says. ‘If he finds out about Brody, he’ll flip.’

‘I won’t,’ I say. ‘Does Brody know about Ben?’

‘Yeah, but don’t discuss this with him either, OK?’

I have no intention of discussing this – or anything else – with Brody. He might be free to go out with whomever he wants, but seeing a girl you know is taken is another form of cheating, as far as I’m concerned. I’m ashamed my hormones came out of hibernation for that guy.

Ben comes back with Juliette’s tea, and I get down to business. It is business, I remind myself. I don’t have to agree with everything a client wants. The Love, Inc. charter says we have to deliver what’s asked unless it’s illegal or dangerous. Ben wants his girlfriend back, and it’s my job to help him get her – even if she is a lying, ditzy, air-hand-shaker. I am not here to judge. I am here to ease communication.

I fire off my usual warm-up questions about how they met, how long they’ve been going out, and how they spend their time together. I do this partly to get a sense of how a couple feels about each other. If the love is still there, it shows.

Today, as Ben describes the moment he first saw Juliette, she chimes in, correcting small details, filling in blanks. They talk about it like it only happened a few days ago, even though they’ve been together a year. I can tell their story is not over yet. All I have to do is find the roadblock and guide them around it.

‘I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen,’ Ben says, squeezing Juliette’s hand.

Juliette takes her hand away. ‘You changed your mind about that pretty fast.’

Ah. The roadblock.

‘What do you mean?’ Ben asks. ‘You’re gorgeous.’

‘If that were true, you would have been more supportive when that modeling scout approached me at the mall.’

‘But that was a scam,’ he says. ‘Dude was trying to pick you up.’

‘You don’t think I’m pretty enough to make it as a model.’

Ben runs a hand through his auburn hair, leaving it crushed down the middle. ‘I never said that.’

But he’s not saying she is pretty enough, which tells me there’s more going on here than meets the eye.

‘My dad checked out the agency,’ Juliette says. ‘It’s totally legit.’

Ben snorts. ‘A legit agency doesn’t need to find models at Abercrombie & Fitch.’

‘Actually, I’ve read that agencies do scout for models in malls,’ I say. I hate to help Juliette’s cause, but the truth is the truth.

‘See?’ Juliette says. ‘You’re more uptight than my dad.’

‘Excuse me for wanting to protect you. I saw an exposé on how fly-by-night agencies get girls to blow a lot of cash on a portfolio, then skip town.’

I make a suggestion. ‘What if Juliette approached a well-known agency and they were interested? How would you feel about that?’

Ben squirms in his seat. ‘I don’t see why she has to put herself out there like that. You do OK in school, Juliette. You’ll get into college.’

‘Modeling could help me pay for college,’ she points out. ‘I don’t understand why you’re so negative about this.’

I put my shoulder to the roadblock and push. ‘Ben, if Juliette started modeling, how do you think it would affect your relationship?’

Ben stares at the floor. He probably wouldn’t have hired me if he thought it would get this awkward, but he rises to the challenge. He must really love Juliette. ‘I’d never see her. She’d travel all the time. Hang out with cool people.’

‘So,’ I say, shining a light on the problem, ‘you’re worried that you’ll lose her.’

‘I guess.’ He flashes a quick look at Juliette. ‘That makes me sound like a jerk.’

Juliette doesn’t think so. She gets out of her chair and sits on Ben’s lap. ‘You’ll never lose me, sweetie. I promise.’

They quickly become a mass of groping, intertwined bodies on the sofa. I get up to leave and they don’t even notice.

It’s a bit much for a café, but on the bright side, two redheads going at it like that could bring our kind back from the brink of extinction.