Sammy Keyes and the Runaway Elf (15 page)

“Pine nuts?”

She rolled her eyes. “You got me.”

She led me to the bathroom, and let me tell you, a shower never felt so good. I put on some of Marissa’s clothes, and when I emerged she said, “I was going to wash your clothes, but Mom says they’re hopeless. I threw them out, okay? You can have those.”

I laughed. “Thank you.”

“She wants to know if you want to stay for dinner.”

“For broccoli and pine nuts?”

She
practically got down on a knee. “Pleeeease?”

Well, I wouldn’t play squirrel for just anyone, but for Marissa? I laughed and said, “Okay.”

Grams wasn’t too happy about me missing dinner for the second night in a row, but she tried to cover up and told me to have a good time. And I felt kind of bad, not telling her about Mrs. Graybill, but really, I didn’t want to go through it right then. Not over the phone.

When I hung up, Mrs. McKenze says from over by the stove, “I’ve been thinking a lot about Lilia since you were
here the other day. Are you still having trouble with her?”

I nodded.

“Well, I had lunch with a friend, and her name came up.”

“Oh?”

She shook some Parmesan cheese over the broccoli. “She wouldn’t tell me much, but she did let it slip that Lilia’s taken a second out on her house.”

“A second? What’s that?”

“A second mortgage. She’s borrowing against the equity in her house.”

I thought about this a minute. “She doesn’t
own
that house?”

“Free and clear? Not anymore. I was under the impression that she paid cash for it originally, but if this is a
second
, then she probably doesn’t have much equity left.” She went back to sprinkling cheese. “I found it interesting.”

I sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar and thought. About the Crocodile in her den watching her stocks. About her taking a second mortgage out on her house. About Tina cutting out coupons. And I wondered—would Mrs. Landvogt really pay fifty thousand dollars to get Marique back? And why, if Tina had had to cut out coupons in college, did she seem to think her mother would fork over that much money for a dog?

But the more I thought about it, the more I got the feeling that maybe Tina was right. It seemed that nothing mattered more to the Crocodile than her dog, so maybe she really would pay fifty thousand dollars to get Marique back.

If she could.

Grams was stunned. “She’s dead? How can she be dead? She was here less than a week ago, cranky as ever.” She kind of deflated into the couch. “I called there twice today, but both times they told me she was asleep. Oh, why didn’t I just go over there?”

I said, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Grams, you couldn’t have known.…” Then I rested my head on her shoulder, and we just sat there for the longest time, not saying anything.

We went to bed early, but I don’t think either of us got much sleep. And the next morning I was so tired that I almost asked Grams if I could stay home from school. Then I remembered Heather. I had one more day of following her around, and then it was up to Officer Borsch. If I could get ahold of him.

So I got up, got dressed, and walked out of the building like I lived there. I stopped by Maynard’s Market to get a copy of
Dirt Bike
magazine for Dirt Boy and headed off to school.

When I got to homeroom, I slipped the magazine into Rudy’s desk, then hurried over to my own. There was nothing on Heather’s desk, and when the bell rang she slipped into her seat and said, “Finally getting smart, huh?”

I just gave her my evil little smile.

She shot over her shoulder, “Get a life, would you?”

After homeroom I didn’t let her out of my sight. I followed her everywhere. I even followed her into the bathroom so that when she came out of the stall, there I was, staring at her in the mirror.

When I found her hiding with Tenille and Monet behind the locker room at lunchtime, I sat down right next to her on the asphalt and stared at her.

She spilled her fries trying to get away from me, crying, “What are you
doing?
”

One of her fries had fallen into my lap, so I popped it into my mouth and just sat there, chewing.

Tenille got up and said, “C’mon, Heather, let’s go.”

I made my little
tick-tock
sound and Heather said, “You’re crazy, you know that? If you hurt me … If you lay even one finger on me …”

They hauled her off while I
tick-tock
ed, a little louder.

By the end of school I was pretty sure that I couldn’t ruffle her up much more than I already had, and I was starting to get worried that Officer Borsch wouldn’t go along with my plan. What I had in mind was a long shot, and Officer Borsch isn’t the long shot type. He likes citing code and writing tickets, which I guess is at least safer than what I do. I mean, getting doused with ammonia by a brownie-eating bear is probably something Officer Borsch has never experienced in the course of an investigation.

Anyhow, after school I was planning to get Elyssa and then go straight over to the police station. But I got sidetracked. By the Gypsy.

She was waiting by the gate, wrapped up in a khaki skirt
and a gauzy shirt, and was still missing the soles of her sandals. She called, “Sammy! Sammy, over here!”

I kind of circled around her. “You don’t look like you’ve got good news.…”

She pulled me aside, saying, “You’ve got to tell me the truth—for your own sake. Did you call the health department?”

Right away I knew she meant on Palmer’s. “No way!”

She looked up like she was talking to God. “I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t do that.” She looked back at me and said, “
They
think you did. You or that Landvogt lady.”

“Well,
I
didn’t.”

“I believe you, but Palmer’s is shut down indefinitely, and Royce has got Paula believin’ that you and Rich Witch were behind it.”

“But why would she want to shut down Palmer’s? It’s not like she’d ever
go
there.” A little picture of the Croc trying to shoot pool in her turban and claws ran through my brain, and it made me shudder.

The Gypsy said, “Look, I can’t answer that. They don’t know I heard them talking—I just thought I should warn you; you gotta steer clear of both of them, girl. They’re acting real skittery.”

“Like they’re mad? Or like they’re trying to hide something?”

She shook her head. “Maybe both. It’s hard to say.”

“Did they say anything about the dog?”

“Not squat.” She pulled the brim of her hat down. “But I know they were squabbling about money. Something about him paying off a loan.”

“To her?”

“I don’t think so. Paula’s been known to skate in the shade, so I think it’s more like she’s connected him with someone.”

“Skate in the shade?”

“Not with the Mob, just loan sharks—that kind of scene. If Royce is tight for cash he might’ve bit the bait—who knows? It sure would explain why he’s so jumpy, poking a gun in your face like that.” She looked over her shoulder like she was afraid someone was following her. “Hey, I gotta boogie. You never saw me, right? I don’t like feeling like a narc. I was just worried about you.”

She started across the street, and I called, “Hey!”

She turned around. “Yeah?”

“Um … thanks.”

She pointed a finger at me like a gun. “Eight ball, corner pocket. Sink it.” Her hand jerked back like she’d fired, then she turned and hustled across the street.

I watched her go, wondering what she’d meant by that. Sink it. Finally I shook my head and started trotting out to Landview Elementary.

Elyssa didn’t jump up when she saw me. She dragged her lunchbox down the steps and said, “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

I put out my hand and said, “Of course I came.”

She let out a little sigh and put her hand in mine. “I thought you might still be crying.”

I stopped and squatted down to look at her. “I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t seen me be so upset.”

Her eyes looked so clear. So open. “Do you miss her?”

“Mrs. Graybill?”

“Uh-huh.”

I started walking again and decided: there’s no way I should talk depressing stuff around Elyssa. I looked at her and said, “Mrs. Graybill was the crabbiest old lady I ever knew.”

“She
was?
” Her eyes were like two big buttons.

“And
nosy
. She was nosier than a … than an elephant!”

She giggled. “She was?”

“Uh-huh. Do you know what she used to do?”

“What?!”

So I went on and on about Mrs. Graybill, and to tell you the truth, it made
me
feel better, talking about her. And I was so busy talking that I completely forgot about seeing Officer Borsch until we were nearly past the mall.

“Oh hey, I forgot! I’ve got to go see Officer Borsch.”

“Again?”

“He wasn’t there yesterday, remember?”

She looked down and whispered, “I don’t want to go.”

“It’ll be like yesterday. Just for a minute.”

She looked up at me. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“All right,” she said, but she was still pouting.

So we went to the police station and she waited outside, just like the day before. And behind the counter was the Dodo, carrying around that nest, just like the day before. The Dodo smiled and said, “You’re back.”

I nodded. “Is he here?”

“Floating around somewhere—let me go find him.”

She went around a pillar and I could hear her, buzzing
him on an intercom. She came back and said, “He’ll be here in a few. He’s powdering his nose.”

I looked through the window at Elyssa sitting on the bench and said, “Maybe I’ll wait outside.”

She looked at me looking at Elyssa and did a double take. “Say, isn’t that Jim’s little girl?”

“Jim?”

“What’s her name? Eliza?”

“Elyssa.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” She shook her head and sighed. “What a tragedy.”

It took me a minute. “He’s … dead?” I felt like a moron asking.

She shuddered. “Unfortunately. Bust gone bad over on the west side. It was a messy one.” She took a deep breath, then let it out, saying, “What a great guy he was.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Oh, it’s been a year by now but it feels like yesterday. I’ve never seen so many people at a burial. It was like that whole new section of the cemetery was covered in black.” She looked out the window again. “You can never tell when your marker’s gonna come due.”

Just then Officer Borsch walked through the door, but I wasn’t thinking about cats anymore, I was thinking about Elyssa. I whispered to him, “I didn’t know Elyssa’s dad was a cop.”

He nodded. “And a good one.”

“Were you there when he got killed?”

He nodded again, then muttered, “And I’ve been back practically every night since.”

I didn’t have to ask. I know what bad dreams are like. “Is that why she runs away?”

“Elyssa? No. Well, I don’t think so. She was pretty much sheltered from the whole thing. Didn’t even attend the funeral.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “She was so young … the department’s psychologist didn’t think it’d be a good idea.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, I’m told you have some information about the cats?”

I let out a big breath and almost said, Forget it. I mean, all of a sudden the idea seemed really, really stupid.

“Well?”

I shook my head. “Promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

He laughed and said, “No …,” which for some reason tickled my funny bone. I laughed along with him and said, “All right, then just hear me out.” I showed him the Polaroid pictures and said, “See this girl? Her name’s Heather Acosta and she goes to my school. I’m about ninety-five percent sure she and her friends threw the cats.”

“No proof?”

I shook my head. “And grilling her under your little hundred-watt bulb in there won’t get you anywhere.”

His lip tried to curl up under his nose. “Ninety-five percent isn’t good enough.”

“I know. Which is why I’m here. The other five percent is up to you.”

So I told him about Hudson and “The Tell-Tale Heart,” and since he didn’t know the story, I had to tell
him about the guy hiding the body under the floorboards and all of that. And I’m right in the middle of the guy losing it in front of the policemen when Ol’ Borsch-head practically breaks down and cries, “Samantha …! Do we really have to go through all this?”

“I’m sorry, but you have to know the story or this doesn’t make any sense!”

“I get the picture already! Now can we get to the cats?”

So I told him about what I’d been doing at school and how Heather turned into a basket case whenever she saw me, and then I told him what I wanted him to do at the Christmas party the next day. He just closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Finally he said, “It won’t work. There is no way that’s going to work.”

“It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s ridiculous. It’ll never work. How can you even
think
that’s gonna work?”

Now, I knew it was kind of a crazy idea, but my feelings were still hurt. I mean there he was, being the Borsch-head I know and hate, treating me like a stupid little kid again. I headed for the door and said, “Fine. I don’t see you coming up with a better idea, so you can just
giddy-up!
”