by Kat Shepherd
Evie wordlessly handed over the pictures. He quickly sifted through them and passed them around. He handed a close-up photo of Bitsy to a young officer. “Could you please make some copies of this so everyone knows what the suspect looks like?” The officer hurried off. “Thanks for coming in,” he said before introducing them to the group. There were a few snickers in the room when he described the kids as junior detectives, but a quick look silenced them. “Zach and Evie are Yaro’s kids,” Bermudez added, and the police officers’ faces grew somber. “Those of you who have been around long enough to remember Yaro know what an honor it was to work with such a dedicated cop.” There were nods in the room.
Zach squeezed his sister’s hand. “I wish Dad was here to see this,” he whispered.
“Me too,” Evie whispered back.
Bermudez clapped his hands together. “All right, team. Let’s move out.”
The police and animal control officers headed out the door, and Bermudez led the teens down the hallway to an unmarked van with a young plainclothes officer behind the wheel. The detective hopped into the front passenger seat, and the kids climbed into the back. He twisted around in his seat to face them. “Your job today is to stay in the van. We don’t have any background on Bitsy. We don’t know if she’s working alone or has an accomplice, and that creates a potentially hazardous situation. You’re here solely to identify her, got it? So promise you’ll stay in the van until I come and get you.”
Evie bit her lip. This was all happening so fast, and it felt much more real and frightening than she had thought it would. In their previous case they were mostly on their own, so being scared made sense. But she had expected to feel braver with a bunch of adults around. “We promise.”
The van arrived in Bitsy’s neighborhood and parked several blocks away from her apartment. Bermudez hopped out of the van, paperwork in hand, and joined the other officers on the walk over to Bitsy’s apartment. Evie folded her hands in her lap and tried to think calming, positive thoughts, but anxiety kept creeping in. Evie could feel the tension as they waited for the crackle of the radio that would tell them that Bitsy had been captured and Marvin was safe. But the van was silent.
“What’s taking so long?” Sophia whispered to Evie. “Do you think something happened?”
Evie’s stomach sank. She took a deep breath, willing her hammering heart to slow down. She leaned forward. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
The driver turned around and smiled. “I’m Officer Cho.” She put out her hand, and Evie shook it. “What’s up?”
“I was just wondering,” Evie said, “is Detective Bermudez in any danger?”
“Well, any unknown situation can be dangerous, but Bermudez is good police. He’s calm, he’s professional, and he always keeps his cool. Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry? The kids all looked at one another. There were a million different things that could go wrong. How were they not supposed to worry?
“I thought this would feel exciting,” Evie whispered to her brother, “but sitting here waiting in the van is way worse than being in there ourselves. I keep wondering what’s happening and thinking of all the things that could go wrong.”
“Mom said that one of the reasons she became a crime reporter was because she couldn’t stand sitting at home worrying every time Dad went to work.”
Just then, Officer Cho’s radio crackled to life. After a few garbled exchanges, she turned back to the kids. “All clear,” she said. “We’re going in.”
“Did they find Marvin?” Sophia asked. Officer Cho shook her head, and Sophia slumped.
“Don’t give up hope,” Vishal said. “I’m sure the cops will find him.” As they approached the apartment building, he expected to see Bitsy in handcuffs, maybe in the back of the police car or sitting on the curb. “Where is she?” he asked.
Bermudez’s face was weary when the kids found him in the hallway outside of Bitsy’s apartment. He carried a small spiral notebook and a pen. “What do you know about Ms. Romanevsky’s background?” he asked them.
“Not much,” Zach answered. “We only met her that one time at the donor dinner. She was mostly glommed onto her boyfriend, Dante, hanging onto his every word.”
“What’s Dante’s last name?” Bermudez asked, his pen at the ready.
“Fishman,” Vishal answered. “He’s a game developer; he’s working with Gideon Doheny.” He leaned forward and tried to peer into the apartment through the open doorway. “Why all the questions? Isn’t Bitsy talking?”
Bermudez shook his head. “She can’t.”
Sophia’s eyes bulged. “What do you mean she can’t? Is she dead?” She pushed forward. “Where’s the body? Can I see it?”
“Easy, Morticia,” Evie said. “Let’s maybe wait until we have the whole story before you go all Forensic Files on us.”
“Settle down, everyone,” Bermudez said. “Ms. Romanevsky isn’t dead; she just isn’t here,”
“Well, she’ll be back at some point, won’t she?” Sophia asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Bermudez said, “The apartment doesn’t give us much to go on. I’ll have officers contact her boyfriend to see where she might be. In the meantime, I thought you could help me check and see if there are any clues we might be overlooking.”
The detective handed out gloves, and everyone pulled on a pair before he led them inside. The animal control officers were kneeling over their equipment as they packed up to leave. “There’s no evidence that a red panda was here,” one officer said. “No evidence of any animals, in fact.” Zach felt a trickle of doubt run through his veins. Had he been wrong about Bitsy?
Several police officers were still searching the apartment, but their faces didn’t leave much room for hope. “There’s nothing much here,” said a short man with a shining, bald head. “Almost nothing personal of any kind. No photos, no notes or letters. Even the trash cans are empty.” Zach looked around the sterile apartment. White walls, beige carpet, and the standard vertical blinds. The kitchen looked like it had never been used, and the furniture was straight out of a showroom. Tasteful, generic knickknacks were scattered artfully along the otherwise empty shelves. Even the perfectly coordinated throw pillows were pristinely fluffed and positioned.
“Does anyone even sit on this couch ever?” Vishal asked. He ran his finger along a tabletop. Not a speck of dust. “How long has she lived here, anyway?”
“According to the lease, Ms. Romanevsky’s been here about four months,” Bermudez answered.
“Why would someone who’s lived in town for only four months want to steal Marvin?” Sophia asked.
Zach felt his doubts deepen. “Maybe . . .” he said. His voice grew smaller. “Maybe I messed up?” What if it hadn’t been Marvin inside her coat? “I shouldn’t have rushed it. I should have been more careful before we called you,” he said to the detective.
Bermudez put his hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Hey, it was my call to go in. You did the right thing.”
“Listen, Zach, don’t beat yourself up,” Sophia said.
“I know. Everyone makes mistakes and all that. It’s just—”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Sophia interrupted. “Don’t beat yourself up because you didn’t make a mistake.” She pointed across the room. “See? You were right.”
CHAPTER
19
“I’ll bet anything that’s what she used to make that fake bobcat print to frame B-17,” Sophia said, pointing to the paw-print relief sculpture on the shelf. “If you look carefully, I’m sure you’ll find there’s still some sand residue from Marvin’s exhibit.”
Bermudez pulled out a magnifier and scanned the sculpture. Vishal elbowed Zach. “Check it,” he whispered. “Sherlock Holmes style!” Zach grinned.
Bermudez looked up. “There are small grains of something on here.” He carefully bagged and labeled the sculpture and handed it off to another officer. “Bring this to the lab and ask them to check for a match to the sand from t
he red panda exhibit.” The officer hurried off.
Bitsy’s bedroom was every bit as sterile as the rest of the apartment. The neatly made bed looked like it had never been slept in, the sheets still crisp like they had just come out of the box. A few of Bitsy’s slinky dresses hung in the closet, along with the fox-fur coat. “That’s the coat she was wearing when she took Marvin,” Evie cried.
There was a commotion out in the hallway. “What’s going on? Why can’t I come in?” a voice demanded. One of the officers answered something in low, calming tones, and the voice rose higher. “But I’m her boyfriend!”
“It’s Dante!” Evie whispered. They rushed out after Detective Bermudez to find the game developer standing in the doorway, his linen pants wrinkled and his curly hair wild.
“What are the cops doing here?” Dante demanded. “Where is she?”
“That’s what we’d like to ask you,” the detective answered. “When did you last see her?”
“Not since the night of the zoo dinner.” He pointed at the kids. “Hey, you were there, too! Why are you in my girlfriend’s apartment?”
“It’s for a school project,” Sophia said quickly. She had discovered that adults would buy pretty much anything if you said it was for a school project. Apparently it worked, because Dante nodded his head slowly as if that made perfect sense. Bermudez seemed to understand that the kids would get more out of Dante than he would, so he leaned against the wall, his dark eyes watching to see how the conversation would unfold.
“It looked like you guys were having an awesome time the other night at the zoo,” Zach said with a smile. “How great was that rhino?”
Dante shrugged. “I thought the rhino was pretty beast, but Bitsy didn’t seem that psyched about it. I guess she wasn’t feeling well, because she ran off to the bathroom as soon as we got back to the party, and she was in there for, like, twenty minutes. She wanted to leave right after that, and hey, I get it. There’s nothing worse than trying to party when your guts aren’t down, if you know what I mean. I felt really bad for her. She was all flushed and sweaty, but she kept talking about how cold she was and huddling up in her coat.”
Zach and Evie looked at each other. Bingo. “Did you drive her home after that?” Zach asked.
“No, she had a client meeting right beforehand, so she had her own car. The docent brought the cart right to Bitsy’s parking spot and she got in and drove off.” He frowned at the memory. “She barely even said good night.”
“Yeah, being sick is the worst, right?” Sophia said. “So you said she had a client meeting? What kind of work does she do?”
Dante waved his hand vaguely. “Some kind of sales and marketing thing, I don’t really know.”
“You don’t know what your girlfriend does for a living?” Vishal asked incredulously.
“It’s not like I didn’t ask,” Dante said defensively. “She didn’t really like to talk about work.”
“So what did you guys talk about?” Sophia asked.
Dante thought for a moment. “Me, mostly. She loved hearing about my work, and she said she knew Monkeyfarts Mayhem would be a huge hit; she had all these great suggestions to make it really epic. It was actually her idea to donate to the zoo and try to get the whole naming thing going. Gideon was crazy about the idea. It would be so boss to have an actual Monkeyfarts Manor exhibit! I still don’t know why Dr. Chang wouldn’t go for it.”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that guy?” she asked, barely able to contain her sarcasm.
“That’s cool that Bitsy wanted to help launch your app,” Zach said. “Were you guys dating a long time?”
“At least a couple months, I guess,” Dante answered. He thought for a moment. “We met around the end of January, so probably about four months.”
“How did you meet?” Evie asked.
“I was out one night with a bunch of my investors, and one of the guys was ribbing me about how I always date blondes. I guess Bitsy overheard the convo, because she came right over and teased me about it. We just really hit it off right from the start, I guess.”
Evie’s eyes narrowed. Bitsy just happens to strike up a conversation with Dante? And then she just happens to give Dante the idea that gets him in with the zoo? Sounds like a setup to me, Evie thought. She snuck a glance at Detective Bermudez. His eyes glittered with interest, and his pen hovered over his open notebook.
“Have you been to Ms. Romanevsky’s apartment much?” Bermudez asked.
Dante looked disconcerted for a moment, as though he had forgotten the police were even in the room. “What’s with all the questions, anyway? Where’s Bitsy?” he asked again.
Sophia gritted her teeth, trying to hide her frustration. Just when Dante was starting to spill the really interesting stuff, Bermudez had to go and ruin it. They were never going to find Marvin at this rate! She made her best puppy-dog eyes. “We were supposed to meet Bitsy at her apartment for our school project, and when she didn’t show up we got really worried, so we called the police.” She batted her eyelashes. “Were you supposed to meet her here, too?” Sophia doubted her little performance would work, but she was desperate. She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth; anyone could see it was obviously a lie.
To Sophia’s surprise, Dante accepted her story without question. “That’s a bummer she didn’t show up when she said she’d meet you guys, but she has been acting kind of weird lately.”
“Weird?” Zach asked. “Like how?”
Dante ran his hand through his curls, making them stick out from his head like dandelion fluff. “Well, the morning after the zoo party, I called to see if she was feeling better, and she said she was still doing pretty rotten but she’d call me later. I didn’t hear from her, and then two days later she dumped me!”
“So you came over here to try to get her back?” Sophia asked. She hadn’t pegged Dante for a romantic.
“No, I came to get my pinkie ring.”
Sophia blinked. “Your pinkie ring?”
“Yeah,” Dante explained. “I was getting ready to go out tonight and I noticed my diamond pinkie ring was missing. The last time I saw it was when I was with Bitsy, so I thought she might know where it is.” He sighed. “I’m always losing stuff around her: my platinum cufflinks, my money clip, and now my ring. Man, I guess I’m just so happy with her I get super-forgetful, you know?”
“No, yeah, sure,” Sophia said. Wow. It never once occurred to Dante that Bitsy might have been ripping him off? Man, if he’s really this dumb, he’s going to be hit with a lot of bad news all at once, Sophia thought. Out loud she said, “Hey, Detective Bermudez, do your officers want to help Dante search for his pinkie ring?”
The detective gave a brisk nod, and the police fanned out, opening empty drawers and cabinets, searching for any clue that might help them learn more about Bitsy or why she would go to so much trouble to steal a red panda. “Was Bitsy’s apartment always so . . . plain?” Vishal asked. He bent down and peered at a loose vent cover behind a credenza.
“I don’t really know,” Dante said. “We were mostly over at my place. But her pad does seem a little emptier than I remember.”
Evie felt her worst suspicions confirmed. The apartment didn’t feel like a place Bitsy had expected to be in for long, and if even clueless Dante thought it looked emptier than usual, it must mean that she had already cleared out. But how had Bitsy known the police were on her trail?
Detective Bermudez seemed to echo Evie’s thoughts. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Mr. Fishman. It appears Ms. Romanevsky may have absconded with your pinkie ring and a number of other missing items.”
Dante’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “She did what, now?”
“She took off,” the detective said simply. “She’s gone, and so is your stuff.”
Dante looked stricken, and he leaned against the wall in support. “My girl? No way. Bitsy would never. She knows I loved that pinkie ring! And my cufflinks.”
His voice sank. “And my . . . money.”
“Well, the good news is, with her flashy looks and a name like Bitsy Romanevsky, she won’t be too hard to find again, right?” Zach asked hopefully.
Suddenly, Vishal let out a groan. “I wouldn’t count on it,” he said.
CHAPTER
20
“Wait a minute, that’s Bitsy’s hair!” Dante cried, pointing at the blond wig that Vishal had found.
“And it looks like her blond hair wasn’t the only fake thing about her,” Vishal said. “Look at all these IDs! Each one has a different name, but they’re all Bitsy’s face.”
“So Bitsy Romanevsky was just an alias,” Sophia said in a whisper. “Then who is she really?”
“This case just got a lot bigger than we thought,” Bermudez said. He turned to a young, bald policeman. “Sergeant Ring, would you please escort Mr. Fishman outside and take his statement?” A bewildered Dante meekly followed the sergeant out of the apartment. Bermudez turned to the four teens. “Kids, I’m sorry to say this, but this evidence gives me reason to believe Bitsy was a professional thief. We’ve spent the past year tracking the Cat’s Paw, a burglar who’s been working the Twin Cities. I now believe Bitsy and the Cat’s Paw are one and the same.”
“Our mom’s written about the Cat’s Paw!” Zach said. “She stole a Picasso from a mansion in Kenwood, a Fabergé egg from an auction house, and Babe Ruth’s 1919 trade contract from a sports exhibit at the history museum. She always leaves a cat paw print behind as her calling card.” His eyes widened. “Oh, no way! The print in Marvin’s exhibit wasn’t to frame B-17; it was her signature!”
Evie was incredulous. “Wait a minute. Bitsy’s the Cat’s Paw?” She shook her head. “There’s just no way. The Cat’s Paw is a master thief, and Bitsy’s, well . . . kind of an airhead.”
Sophia shook her head. “No; Ditzy Bitsy is who she wanted you to see. Everything about her was as fake as that wig.”
