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Zoe
The church service was lasting forever, and Zoe couldn’t focus on any of it. All she could think about was that slimy Isabelle Martin. She and the two eighth graders had tried to tell Esther what they’d figured out, but she’d shushed them because church was already starting. So now Zoe sat waiting for it to end, so she could tell her grandmother what they knew. But Derek, for some reason, had grown bored with the whole thing and left in the middle of the service. Their tale wasn’t going to be nearly as captivating without testimony from their eyewitness.
Finally, the talented organ player finished the final song with a flourish, and everyone got to their feet and started to chitchat.
“Gramma.” Zoe grabbed her arm before she could go in the wrong direction. She motioned for Emma and Mary Sue to join her, and they came running. “We know who painted the sign, and she’s probably also the one who broke the window.” She had no idea if this Isabelle was also a window-breaker, but she was desperate to clear her name.
Gramma looked skeptical.
“Her name is Isabelle Martin,” Emma said confidently. Then she waved to her mother, who also headed their way. “I’ve known her my whole life, and she is awful. She goes to my old church, and she was always vandalizing things there.” This last part didn’t sound convincing.
“Vandalizing might be a strong word,” Emma’s mother said, “but she is a troublemaker.”
“Do you think she’s capable of painting obscenities on our church sign?” Esther asked the woman, ignoring the three girls who’d brought her the information.
Zoe tried not to be annoyed.
Emma’s mom looked contemplative. “Yes.” She sighed. “Probably. But I’m not sure what we can do about it. Her parents will never hold her accountable.”
Mary Sue groaned. “But we have an eyewitness.”
“Who?” Gramma and Emma’s mom asked in unison.
“Derek,” Zoe said, and both of their faces fell.
“Are you sure he saw it happen?” Esther asked. “Derek is not the most reliable witness.”
“He described her coat perfectly,” Emma said, sounding a little desperate.
Zoe wasn’t sure that saying it was an L. L. Bean coat and that it was painfully pink counted as describing it perfectly, but she wasn’t going to argue.
“So, he saw Isabelle,” Esther said. “Doesn’t mean he saw her paint the sign.”
“He said he saw her paint it. Why would he lie?” Zoe said.
“I don’t know if he would,” Esther said, “but he says things all the time that don’t make sense. Maybe he wanted to please you guys and tried to contribute to your little investigation. And maybe he did see something, but we can’t exactly take his story to the police. They won’t believe him. And why would Isabelle commit a crime while someone was watching her?”
“He says she didn’t see him.” Zoe scanned the adults’ faces and realized they were never going to accept Derek’s eyewitness account. She looked at Emma. “We need to catch her in the act.”
“In what act?”
“I don’t know yet. But if we all witness it, then they’ll believe us.”
Mary Sue gasped. “We should video her!” She looked at Emma. “Can we use your phone?”
Zoe waited for one of the adults to argue, but neither did. She looked at her two new eighth-grade friends. “First, we need to paint the sign. I’ll go get the paint.” For the thousandth time that weekend, Zoe headed into the basement.
