Monday morning came at its leisure despite my attempts to hurry it along. Ivy and I had plotted and schemed our little hearts out last night. I could only hope it would pay off. There was still one piece of the puzzle that had to fall into place.
By seven-thirty, I was in the garage, hauling Blue out to start her warm-ups. She was in high spirits, zipping around the driveway. New treads agreed with her. We had barely done a couple of turns before she darted down to the sidewalk, raring to go.
We traveled up to Maple Street. The sun was rising over the trees, and I could see Tim and Carl silhouetted at the top of the hill.
Waiting for me.
“Fingers crossed, Blue,” I said. “It’d be a real shame if I got pulverized before seeing this through.” We trucked up the hill to meet my possible doom.
“Got a lot of nerve coming back this way, Howie,” Tim said as he stuck out his foot to stop Blue’s front wheel.
Planting my feet on the sidewalk, I gave Blue a reassuring pat on her handlebars. “Not so much nerve as a lack of good sense,” I said. “But why should we let that stop us, right, Tim?”
“I could knock some sense into you if you like.” He took a step forward, cracking his knuckles.
“Not today, thanks,” I said. “In fact, I have a proposition for you boys.”
“A propo-what?”
“An offer,” Carl said.
“A job offer, to be exact,” I said.
“What’s it pay?” Tim was a man of priorities.
“I’m getting to that,” I said, holding up a hand.
Carl shot a sideways look at Tim. “That means it pays nothing.”
“Let me explain.” The odds of my face meeting the sidewalk were increasing the longer I stood here. I needed to make my pitch, and I needed to make it fast.
Tim and Carl rocked back on their heels, arms crossed, listening.
“You’ve heard rumblings about problems with the student council, yes?”
“Newbie member screwup,” Tim said. “Lisa’s been going nuts.”
“Yes, good old cousin Lisa,” I said. “She’s in a bit of a pickle.”
Tim looked pleased at that. The Grantleys were a close-knit and notoriously competitive family. I was counting on that working to my advantage.
“I’m closing in on solving this case,” I said. “And I could use some extra muscle. That’s where you come in.” It was our genius brain wave last night: if you can’t beat ’em, hire ’em.
I outlined my plan and what their role would be as hired goons. Tim and Carl stepped away to talk it over, but before you could say “Brute Squad,” Tim was back.
He gripped Blue’s handlebars and leaned in. “What would we get for our trouble?”
“A favor,” I said.
Tim snorted.
“From Lisa.” It was the ace up my sleeve and the only chance I had of this working.
“A favor from Lisa?” Tim’s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. “Miss ‘Don’t-talk-to-me-Tim-I’m-the-president’ Lisa?”
“I don’t think that’s her exact title,” I said. “But yes.”
Carl moved into my line of sight, eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange between me and Tim. If I had to take a stab at the expression on his face, I’d say it was amused. Which was odd, but I had too many balls in the air to add puzzling out Carl to the list.
“I will take that deal,” Tim said, offering his hand. We shook on it, and I gave them their final instructions before leaving.
Favors may be a P.I.’s best currency, but lies run a close second. Lisa would flip her lid over my promise of a favor to Tim. It was the only thing I could think of to get him to fall in line. She’d never agree to it, and then I’d be left holding the bag of debt to Tim. It was going to end in tears, most likely mine, but that was tomorrow’s problem.
Today’s were just beginning.