Sleepover Stakeout (9780545443111) Page 10

  No sound came from Darcy’s sleeping bag.

  “Darcy? What do you think?”

  There was only silence. She must’ve fallen asleep.

  I fluffed my pillow a bit and got comfortable. Sleep was a good idea. We had a big day of work tomorrow.

  On Sunday, we all descended on Mrs. Wolfson’s house. Some of us, out of the goodness of our hearts. The Danville Boys, because they were forced to.

  Hunter mowed her weedy lawn. Fiona planted flowers. Zane, Slade, and The Danville Boys got busy scraping the old paint off the porch. They’d all actually shown up, proving that there was hope for everyone. I didn’t know for sure how many were in the secret society, but half a dozen came to work, and that was good enough for me.

  But Darcy hadn’t answered her phone when I called her. She had been the first one up and gone from the sleepover that morning. I left two messages for her, but she still wasn’t here.

  I carried a can of white paint up the porch steps. It was much heavier than it looked, but I tried not to struggle too much and seem like a total wimp. I put it down next to Zane. “Here’s the fresh paint for when you’re done scraping,” I said. The Danville Boys had even footed the bill for whatever supplies we couldn’t scrounge from our garages.

  “Thanks,” Zane said, smiling. “This was a really nice idea, Norah.”

  I waved my hand like it was nothing. But on the inside I was jumping up and down. I impressed Zane!

  But then he frowned for a moment. “Hey, you haven’t seen my wallet anywhere, have you? It’s black and has a Velcro opening.”

  I shook my head. “No. Did you lose it today?”

  “That’s the thing. I must have dropped it somewhere, but I don’t remember when I last had it.”

  Huh. In that case, he might have lost it days ago. “Sorry, Zane. If I find it I’ll let you know.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. I only had two dollars in there. But it also had my school ID, and now I’ll have to get a new one.”

  Mrs. Wolfson came out with a tray of brownies and yet another pitcher of lemonade. She’d been serving us goodies all morning. She was so happy to see her old house getting spruced up.

  “Brownies!” the guys yelled in unison as they barreled up the stairs. That was something they could all agree on — whether they were in a secret society or not.

  I went around back to where Maya was pulling weeds from a planting bed.

  “How are things with Anya?” I asked her.

  She straightened and used her forearm to wipe sweat off her forehead. “The usual. But it’s nice to know that she wasn’t evil enough to try to purposefully scare me.” She smiled bashfully. “And it’s nice to know I have real friends now.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “You do.”

  I looked around at the pile of weeds she’d pulled. This section would be ready for Fiona to plant flowers into next. “You’re doing great here,” I said.

  Maya smiled. “It feels good to do something nice for Mrs. Wolfson.”

  “Yeah, it does,” I agreed. Especially knowing that, for years, she was ignored and whispered about by kids in the neighborhood. Now she could have a fresh start. Everyone kept telling me how nice I was for organizing this whole thing, but to be honest, it made me just as happy as it made Mrs. Wolfson.

  “I’d like to do something nice for you, too,” Maya said.

  Well, that was unexpected. “Okay …”

  Maya took a quick look around to make sure no one was coming near us. Then, in a low voice, she said, “I want to tell you Zane’s secret.”

  I had to force myself to swallow. “You shouldn’t,” I said. “If he wants it kept a secret —”

  She waved me toward her and I took a step closer. She whispered, “It’s about you, so I think you have a right to know.”

  Zane’s secret is about me? What the —? My heart started pounding like crazy.

  Maya’s eyes glimmered with delight as she said, “He likes you.”

  “What?” I squeaked. My lungs seized. I had to remind myself to breathe.

  “He likes you likes you. He talks about you all the time. But he doesn’t really know what to do about it. I told him he should just tell you and that you’ll probably like him back, but he’s too nervous.”

  So that was what Zane and Maya had been talking about in the hall that day. Me! I felt numb all over. I thought I was going into shock. Wonderful, Best Day Ever shock.

  Maya added, “Promise me you’ll never let him know I told you.”

  I brought my finger to my chest and crossed my heart.

  Mainly because I couldn’t speak.

  Zane liked me. What I was going to do with that information, I had no idea. I couldn’t act like I knew. Maya had made me promise. But I had to do something about it. Zane was right there, in front of Mrs. Wolfson’s house, and all I wanted to do was run over and give him a hug, but I was too nervous.

  At least I could share the news with my best friend.

  I took off from the house, telling everyone that I needed to get another gardening tool, and rode my bike to Darcy’s, pedaling harder than I ever had in my life. She’d been teasing me about Zane for so long. It would be great to share this moment together. Even though she’d been moody lately. This crazy news would be just what we needed.

  I practically skipped up to her front door and knocked three times. I had to hold in a fit of excited giggles. Finally, the door opened.

  Darcy scowled when she saw it was me. “What?”

  Not the response I’d been hoping for, but I took a deep breath. I wouldn’t let her bad mood ruin this moment for me. I’d put her in a good mood instead!

  “Can you keep a secret?” I wiggled my fingers excitedly.

  Darcy crossed her arms and waited, tapping her foot.

  “Maya told me that Zane likes me! Likes me, likes me!” The words burst out of me. It felt so good to say them out loud.

  “Wonderful,” Darcy snarled. “So now you can go off and be boyfriend-girlfriend with him and ignore me even more.”

  I froze. My mouth hung open.

  Darcy went to close the door and I put my hand up to stop it. “What are you talking about?” I demanded.

  She threw her hands up in the air. “You have no time for me anymore. We used to be best friends.”

  I stood stunned for a moment. “We are best friends. You’ll always be my best friend. What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” she snapped back. “We used to spend every afternoon together. Now you’re bringing all these new people into our group.”

  I didn’t understand what was going on. Why was she so mad? I swallowed a giant lump in my throat. “But you like Fiona. We both agreed to bring her into our group.”

  “That was before her opinion became more important than mine.”

  “What do you mean?” I sputtered. I told myself not to cry.

  Darcy’s eyes flashed. “You didn’t believe me when I said your glasses looked cool, but you believed her. And you went house to house with her, investigating, rather than wait one day for me to do it with you. It’s like you’re forgetting about me.”

  “It’s … it’s … not like that,” I stammered.

  “And you even started dressing like her and lying to me to spend time with her.” Darcy’s voice shook with anger.

  I staggered back a step. “What?”

  Darcy pointed at me. “I saw you. Wednesday when you said you were too busy to watch Crime Scene: New York with me, Fiona went into your house with you and was there forever.”

  Oh no. I’d only meant for Fiona to stay a few minutes. I hadn’t planned on her staying for Family Movie Night. I’d hurt Darcy’s feelings without even realizing it. No wonder she’d seemed different the last few days.

  “Wait,” I said. “I can explain.”

  “With more lies?” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  My throat tightened. “We can fix this,” I said. “We just nee
d to talk it —”

  Darcy interrupted, “Last night when you asked me to sleep over at your house next weekend, I thought, ‘Great! I’m finally going to have my best friend all to myself again. Even if just for one night.’ But then you started rattling off all the things Fiona and Maya could bring. And then I found out you’d already decided to have Maya join Partners in Crime!”

  It all sounded so terrible the way Darcy was saying it, but I truly never meant to hurt her. If I’d known she wanted some time with just us, I would have totally done it. But she never told me! I opened my mouth to explain, but she snapped, “So go have fun with all your new friends and your new boyfriend.”

  I felt sick. She wasn’t even letting me talk. How was I supposed to tell my side of the story? I lashed out, “Well, maybe I don’t appreciate that you always assume the worst in people. Including me.”

  Red colored her cheeks and she raised her voice. “I’m sick of how nice you always have to be to everyone.”

  “And I’m sick of how moody you are!” I snapped back.

  Darcy tilted her chin up. “Then maybe we shouldn’t be best friends anymore.”

  No!

  That wasn’t what I wanted. Not at all. But I was so angry at the way she was acting. Before I could stop the words from escaping, I said, “Maybe not.”

  Darcy set her jaw and took a step back from me. “Fine, then. We’re over.”

  I felt a squeezing in my chest. Actual physical pain. Darcy slammed the door, but I still heard her last words from the other side.

  “And so is Partners in Crime.”

  I spent the next few hours crying in bed. Hubble jumped on the blanket and curled up beside me. He always seemed to know when I was sad. But even petting him and looking into his cute little dog face wasn’t making this better.

  Darcy and I had been friends forever, so of course we’d had arguments before. But this one felt different. And that scared me.

  It had always been just Darcy and me since fourth grade. That never bothered me, but I’d enjoyed making new friends like Fiona and Maya. I never realized that I’d made Darcy feel like I was leaving her behind. And, just like our case with Abigail and Trey, this could’ve all been avoided if Darcy had been honest about her feelings. She should’ve told me sooner.

  The truth was that, while I liked Fiona and Maya, neither of them compared to Darcy. She knew me in a way only my family did. No one could ever take her place.

  But I might have ruined everything.

  How could I fix the mess we were in? This was a mystery I hoped I could solve. And soon.

  I snuck up to Mr. Plati’s door. I couldn’t make out the words he was saying, but it was clear that he was using his angry voice. It wasn’t exactly yelling, but it was loud enough that I could quietly push the door open an inch and he wouldn’t notice.

  “And you’re sure you had nothing to do with the fire?” Mr. Plati was asking Zane skeptically.

  My heart sped up.

  “Yes, sir,” Zane answered with a tremble in his voice. “You know me. I’ve never been in trouble before. I would never do something like this.”

  There was a long pause. I wished I could put my eye up to the crack to see their expressions. Why didn’t Mr. Plati believe Zane? Of course he had nothing to do with the fire. My chest squeezed.

  “We have a problem, then, Mr. Munro.”

  “What is it?” Zane asked.

  I felt so bad for him, facing this all alone in there. Why would anyone want to put Zane through this?

  Mr. Plati let out a long sigh, like he was deeply disappointed. “The problem is that, in addition to setting the fire, you’ve also now lied to me. Because I know you were at the field house. I have evidence.”

  My mind scrambled. Evidence? What evidence?

  I heard the squeak of a drawer opening. And the light thud of something being placed on the desk. Then I heard Zane gasp.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I risked it and put my eye up to the crack.

  “This was found at the scene of the crime,” Mr. Plati said. “Look familiar?”

  He lifted a small black item in his hand. A wallet. Zane’s wallet.

  I rocked back on my heels like I’d been slapped. Whoever set the fire had stolen Zane’s wallet or found it after he’d dropped it. Then they put it at the scene to frame him. I was overcome with anger. My face felt like it was burning.

  “Are you going to deny that this is your wallet?” Mr. Plati asked. “Because your student ID is inside.”

  Zane paled. “No, I mean, yes, that’s my wallet. But I lost that a few days ago.”

  Mr. Plati raised his eyebrows. “Inside the field house?”

  Zane shook his head. “No. I’ve never been in the field house. It wasn’t open yet.”

  “But when Mr. Gray ran in to try to stop the fire” — Mr. Plati pointed a finger at the wallet — “he found this on the floor.”

  “I — I — I,” Zane stuttered.

  I’d never heard him this nervous. My heart went out to him.

  “Someone’s framing me!” he blurted. “I got a threatening e-mail and everything!”

  Mr. Plati leaned forward on his desk and clasped his hands. “Is that really the tactic you’re going to use?”

  “It’s the truth,” Zane said, bewildered. “Why would I burn the field house?”

  Mr. Plati let out an aggravated grunt. “I overheard a conversation in the hall last week, between the soccer team and the basketball team. It seems some of you boys on the soccer team were all riled up about the field house.”

  Zane’s face turned bright red, and he looked down at the floor. “We’re just mad because the basketball team gets a brand-new field house and we’re basically kicked out. We used to practice here and now we have to go all the way to the high school for practices. It’s not fair.”

  Mr. Plati nodded. “I heard that. It would’ve been hard not to, since you were using such a raised voice.”

  “We were angry,” Zane muttered.

  “But how angry?” Mr. Plati asked quietly. “Angry enough to ‘burn the field house down?’” He used finger quotes as he said the words.

  I nearly slid down to the floor in shock. He was quoting Zane? Zane threatened to burn the field house down?

  Zane’s shoulders shook. “I was only joking when I said that. It was just one of those things you say but you don’t mean.”

  “That’s what I assumed at the time,” the principal said. “I thought to myself, ‘Zane Munro is a good kid. He’s angry right now and that’s why these words are flying, but he certainly doesn’t want the field house to burn down.’” He shifted in his seat. “But the problem is, Mr. Munro, that the field house did burn down. A week after you said that. And your wallet was found at the scene.” He took a long pause. “Are you sure there’s nothing you need to tell me?”

  Zane’s eyes were glassy. “No, sir.”

  Mr. Plati leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m disappointed in you, Zane. I hoped that you’d be honest and face what you did. You’re better than this.”

  Zane banged his hand on the arm of the chair. “I didn’t do it, Principal Plati. I swear! Someone is framing me!”

  But Mr. Plati only shook his head. “I’ve already called your parents. They’re on their way. The police will be taking over from now on. You can show this supposed e-mail to them. In the meantime, you’re suspended from school and banned from school events. No soccer games. No dance.”

  My heart broke into a thousand pieces. Only a few minutes ago, it had seemed like Zane was going to ask me to my first dance. I’d been so excited and had so much to look forward to. And now it was all falling apart.

  In a deep, sorrowful tone, Mr. Plati ended with, “And the rest depends on the results of the investigation.”

  I scurried back into the hall. Zane emerged from the office a moment later, looking stricken.

  “I heard everything,” I whispered.

  Za
ne looked up at me with eyes that held no hope. “You believe me, right? I did say that about the field house, but only because I was mad. I didn’t mean it. I never, ever would have done something like this.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder and said firmly, “I believe you. I know you didn’t do this.”

  Zane’s shoulders sagged. “I’m in huge trouble, Norah. I’m suspended and I might even get charged with a crime.”

  I clenched my fists. Not if I had anything to do with it.

  Kim Harrington is the author of several critically acclaimed novels for young adults. Sleuth or Dare is her first middle-grade series. She lives in Massachusetts with her family. You can visit her on the web at www.kimharringtonbooks.com.

  Copyright © 2012 by Kim Harrington

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First edition, June 2012

  Cover art by Erwin Madrid

  Cover design by Tim Hall

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-44311-1

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012