“I don’t steal things.”
“Some would argue otherwise. I just want to know where Bubbles is so he can be returned to his home podium. You’ve got a one minute window to tell me everything or this matter will have to go to the police.”
“I didn’t steal Bubbles. As crazy as it may sound, I actually like the damn fish. I have no idea what happened to it but do share your anger at whoever did do it.” Only part of my statement was a lie. He didn’t have to know that I hated that ugly thing.
“Where were you this lunchtime?” Both of his eyebrows arched upwards, like he had just made the case. Unfortunately, he kind of did. April was my alibi for lunch but I couldn’t very well tell him I left campus to visit her. That was also breaking the rules.
Hello, rock. Hello, hard place.
“I was on the big field, eating my lunch.” The field was large enough to get lost in. Also one of the few places there were no security cameras.
Don’t ask me how I know about the school’s security system.
I would only have to lie to you.
“Who can verify that?” Moore continued. Give the man a flashlight to shine in my eyes and he would have been extremely happy.
“Nobody. I ate alone.”
“That’s convenient.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Principal Moore, I don’t have any friends. Finding anyone to ever verify my whereabouts would be difficult.”
“I’ve seen you hanging around with Francis Bolero.”
Great, the school principal was spying on me. Surely he could only reserve that kind of treatment for me. It occurred to me in that moment that it wasn’t going to matter what I said. He would always blame me for stealing the concrete fish.
I had two options. 1. To explain about my life’s mission to rescue lost things and risk a trip to the guidance counsellor. And 2. To keep going with my adamant denial and risk a trip to the cop shop.
This meeting wasn’t going to end well.
The only thing I was sure of was that Frankie had to stay out of the conversation. He didn’t deserve the principal’s scrutiny.
“I didn’t have lunch with Frankie. I told you I ate alone. And I wasn’t anywhere near the courtyard. Don’t you have CCTV footage of the area?” Damn it. I wasn’t intending to mention the cameras. Nobody was supposed to know they had covertly hidden them.
He didn’t deny it. “Someone spray-painted the camera just before the theft occurred.”
“Maybe you should be looking for someone with spray paint.”
His expression darkened. “I can see we’re not going to get any further with this.” He started typing furiously on his computer before his printer whirred to life. He grabbed the sheet of paper and sealed it in an envelope before handing it to me. “Give this to your guardian. I want to see him immediately to discuss your behavior further.”
Panic alert.
“My uncle is really busy, he won’t be able to take time off work,” I replied quickly. I tried and failed to keep the horror of that idea out of my head.
“He’ll have to find time to deal with this. And before you start plotting ideas of conveniently forgetting to pass on the letter, your guardian needs to sign it. I will know if you forge his signature.”
Now who was the liar?
I’d been forging Uncle Marvin’s signature since before I could read. The signature they had on file was mine.
“I will be meeting with him, Miss Gabrielle.”
“What about if I find the fish?” I blurted out, desperate now. “If I solve the whereabouts of Bubbles will you call off the meet and greet?”
“It’s done, you’re too late. I gave you an opportunity to—”
“I’m not confessing because I didn’t do it. But maybe I could ask around, listen to the chatter. Someone must know where it is and I could act as your ears on the ground.”
“This isn’t up for negotiation. Take that note to your guardian and have him make an appointment for us to discuss your behavior.”
“Principal Moore, I really wish you’d—”
“That is all, Miss Gabrielle. We are done here.” He stood and pointed at the door, making it clear he wasn’t going to discuss the matter any further.
It was his loss, really. I may not be able to locate my missing father but surely a hundred-pound fish would be much easier to find.
I left the office, but not without one more pleading look shot his way.
The man had no heart.
“Make sure you go directly back to your class,” he added, just to rub salt into the wound. As if I was planning on making a run for the border.
Actually…
No, not yet.
The missing tuna fish was the talk of the school. The general feeling fell into two parties. The first thought it was an awesome practical joke and they were ready to throw a party for whomever was behind it. The second thought it was the worst thing in the world and only the death penalty was harsh enough for the convicted thief.
I fell into neither category because I couldn’t give a damn about the idiot fish (yes, I realized I sounded like Uncle Marvin, but sometimes he wasn’t wrong when he called something an idiot). My whole thoughts on the matter was that the damn fish was going to get me into a whole lot of trouble.
As I was leaving school that afternoon, walking purposefully slow to delay the inevitable, a warm hand slipped into mine. Frankie was starting to make a habit of holding my hand.
“Can you believe it about Bubbles?” he said. He seemed to be more amused than offended. However, the moment he saw my face, he turned serious. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were so upset by it all.”
“I don’t care about Bubbles. I care that I’m the one being blamed for stealing him.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, deadly.” I could tell he wanted to ask me if I did it but was too polite to actually verbalize it. It was kinder to put him out of his internal dilemma. “I had nothing to do with it. I’m not that stupid. Principal Moore has an unnatural affection for the lump of concrete, everyone knew he’d blow a gasket if it was stolen.”
“Someone said it happened during lunch but nobody saw anything. Strange, huh?” Frankie walked alongside me in his happy gait and even strides. He had no idea of the real problems the fish caused.
“Very strange, but I didn’t do it. I visited April during lunch but I can’t tell the principal that or he’ll have me for breaking the school rules.”
“Leaving school grounds would be better than theft of the much-loved mascot, right?”
“Doubt it. They think if we leave campus we’ll end up kidnapped or committing armed robbery or something. It’s probably about on par with fish thievery,” I said. Frankie hadn’t been at the school long enough to know how paranoid Principal Moore was. He took all the rules very seriously.
With no exceptions.
Frankie twirled around so he was walking in front of me backwards. I took a step forward as I walked and he had to take a step backwards. “How about we do something to take your mind off Bubbles?”
“Like what?” His question and cheeky dimples were enough to at least lesson the panic alarm blaring in my head.
“I have it on good authority that ICM Partners is currently open and will remain that way until five o’clock tonight. What do you say to paying them a visit and seeing if they should remain suspects in your father’s case?”
He was so sweet, always thinking of me and my problems. I was sure he had some of his own that he never shared with me. For this afternoon alone, I would remain selfish. “I say that is a really good idea.”
Frankie stepped back into stride with me as we walked in the direct opposite direction of school.
Uncle Marvin’s wrath could wait a little longer.
Chapter 21
I got to see Frankie in charm mode as we stood in the middle of ICM Partners and spoke with the manager. The boy could talk the scales off a fish.
“Computers and all
are just crazy to me,” Frankie said to the man. They were the same height and probably only ten years apart. “I want mine fixed but I just don’t know who to trust with it. There’s some sensitive things on there. Nothing illegal, of course, but I don’t want someone to steal my identity.”
The man had nodded along with the whole thing. “I know, man. It’s hard to hand over your computer system to anyone and give them a list of passwords. You never know what they could get up to.”
“Your store here is set up really well, you must have a good IT guy.”
“Yeah, we use Computer Mart for all our technology matters. The owner, Marshall, he’s fantastic.”
Both Frankie and my own ears pricked at hearing my father’s name. “Have you been using him long?”
“Yeah, a few years now. He’s not exactly cheap but he knows his way around a network,” the manager said. He seemed completely at ease speaking about the missing man. He wasn’t setting off any of my suspicious sensors.
“That’s what I need,” Frankie lied. “Do you have his card or contact details so I can give him a call?”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll just grab them.” Manager Trey walked purposefully to the office and disappeared behind a door.
I spoke quietly to Frankie while we were alone. “It doesn’t seem like he knows the news of my father’s absence. He’s either very good at acting or he hasn’t had any computer troubles since before he went missing.”
“He seems genuine.”
“All the good liars are,” I pointed out. You knew you were speaking with an excellent liar when everything seemed genuine. Either Manager Trey was indeed genuine, or he was a better liar than me.
And nobody was a better liar than me.
Trey returned before we could speak any more about him. I wondered if his ears were burning the whole time we were away. “Here’s his card. Tell him I sent you and he’ll make sure to look after you.”
Frankie accepted the card and tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks for that. I appreciate your time.”
“Did you want to look at those artworks while you’re here?” Trey might have been honest but he was also a salesman about to see a potential sale walk out the door. I had to hand it to him for initiative.
“You know, I think I’ll sleep on it,” Frankie said. “Thanks for all your advice. Have a great afternoon.”
He took my hand and I followed him out of the shop. “I think it’s pretty safe to throw him out of the suspect pool,” I started. “He wouldn’t have given you the card if he’d been responsible for his IT guy going missing.”
“Yeah, I agree. He seemed nice.”
“Serial killers are also called nice. It’s how they get so close to so many victims.” Even though Manager Trey did seem innocent, it was still good to remember that we might be wrong. “We seem to be finding a lot of dead ends.”
“Then the search continues.”
I had to love his optimism.
It wasn’t something I was particularly good at.
We went our separate ways after returning to our own neighborhood. There was no point in putting off going home any longer. I still had to cook dinner for Uncle Marvin, Matilda, and myself no matter how late I arrived home.
Many years earlier I had discovered that my uncle took bad news better when he had a stomach full of good, starchy food. With that in mind, I decided to cook pasta with garlic bread on the side. The stench of his breath was worth the potentially quieter yelling.
He groaned as his generous bottom hit the seat and his stubby fingers wrapped around a fork. I placed the bowl of steaming hot pasta in front of him and waited.
My spaghetti was tasteless as I ate it. It was difficult to focus on anything when I had a letter in my pocket that needed his signature. My first thought had been to sign it myself, but then Principal Moore wanted a meeting with him and there was no way I could forge that.
Unless… I could have paid an actor to play the part of my uncle.
But he’d already met my real uncle and Uncle Marvin wasn’t the kind of person someone forgets easily. He was extraordinarily remarkable in the way he could make an impression on someone.
Mostly he left them with a sense of extreme dislike.
I took after him.
He finished his bowl too soon, slurping up the last piece of spaghetti before it left a ring of tomato sauce around his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.
Delightful.
Luckily I didn’t take after him with my table manners.
“Uh, Uncle Marvin,” I started. My foot was nervously tapping a beat on the floor. I pressed down hard to try to make it sit still. “I was called to the principal’s office today.”
“What have you done now, girl?” He pushed back from the table to allow his belly room to spill over his lap.
“Someone stole the giant fish mascot from the school courtyard and he’s blaming me for it.”
Uncle Marvin was like a boiling kettle. He took a few minutes to brew before he completely blew his top. “Why did you steal the stupid fish, you stupid girl? Didn’t you realize you’d get caught for it? How stupid do you have to be?”
“I didn’t do it,” I said calmly. I had to be a duck and let it roll right off my back. Uncle Marvin yelled a lot, normally at me. I could handle this.
I hoped.
“Yeah, right. Don’t lie to me, you idiot. I know what you get up to, you like to take things that don’t belong to you. Don’t you? I’m not an idiot, I see what goes on around here.”
“I don’t steal things and I certainly didn’t steal the giant fish. I’m not an idiot.” It was as far as I could go with defending myself. When my uncle really got going he could have scared a roaring lion. It was better if I just took whatever he threw at me and cried later to myself. “I was given a letter that you have to sign. Principal Moore wants to have a meeting with you.”
“What, now I have to deal with your mess? Your idiot principal is a damn idiot. I don’t have time for a meeting, and if I did, I wouldn’t waste my time with him.” Uncle Marvin spat the words at me, his breath laced with garlic.
Funny enough, he was taking it better than I expected.
“I tried to tell him that but he insisted. Will you please sign the letter?” I pushed it across the table with a pen in one hand. All he had to do was squiggle on the line and this conversation could be paused until the meeting. “Please? I’ll tell him again how busy you are.”
He grumbled under his breath the whole time but Uncle Marvin did eventually sign the letter. He threw the pencil at me and stomped out of the kitchen.
I was shaking all over from the encounter. It was stupid getting upset about what just happened, I’d expected worse and I’d received worse before.
But, somehow, it always hurt when he didn’t believe me. It would have been nice to have him in my corner, defending me against the false accusations.
Thank goodness I had Frankie. I had one person in billions who actually believed me.
I only needed one.
I fed Matilda who purred contentedly while she ate. At least someone around the house was grateful for their meal. Washing the dishes and then cleaning the kitchen, I couldn’t wait to get back to the sanctity of my bedroom.
Uncle Marvin was engrossed in a football game when I crept behind him and went upstairs. With any luck he would be asleep soon and unable to upset me any further.
Thinking him capable of having something to do with my father’s disappearance was beginning to seem more plausible every day that passed. He was angry, not just a little, but a lot. He was revealing his dark side to me piece by piece.
The moment I closed the door to my bedroom, my phone beeped with a message. My heart lifted with anticipation of what Frankie had messaged me.
I looked at the screen, only to find a message from someone unexpected.
The Keeper of Discarded Things.
Hey, Em. Your dad’s name is Marshall, right? I think I have somet
hing you should see.
Mr. Adison never played around. He also so rarely contacted me that I always forgot he actually had my number and I had his. I stared at the message for a long time while the thoughts and questions whirled around in my head.
What did he have?
Why did I need to see it?
How did he know my dad’s name?
What was going on?
No matter how many times I read the message it didn’t reveal anything new. I was going to have to speak with him and I was going to have to do it first thing tomorrow.
After the previous encounter with Uncle Marvin, finding my father was now my number one priority. I needed more family in my life, I was no longer satisfied with being my uncle’s housemaid.
Maybe Mr. Adison held the key that I needed.
Chapter 22
My choice to skip school the next morning was done with great consideration and thought.
That was a lie.
The moment I woke up I knew I wasn’t going to go to school. I’d been on my best behavior forever and all it got me was a false accusation and the dreaded letter home to Uncle Marvin.
What more could they do to me if I skipped one day?
Expulsion would almost be welcomed at this stage.
The only spanner in my works was a boy named Frankie that was waiting for me outside my house. I spotted him too late to sneak out the back door.
“I’m not going to school today,” I said by way of greeting. Sometimes I forgot all about the pleasantries that normal people were supposed to begin a conversation with.
I always found it better to get right to the point.
“Is something wrong? Are you sick?” Frankie’s brow wrinkled with concern. I fought the sudden urge to smooth it out for him. And to kiss his frowning lips.
“Nothing’s wrong, I have something I need to do.”
“Where are we going then?” His mood brightened instantly. It was concerning how eager he was to be led astray. It should have been harder to corrupt him.
“I’m going to the tip shop. You are going to school.”
The Keeper of Lost Things Page 17
