The Thief

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The Thief Page 7

by Aine Crabtree


  “You don’t need to be here for this,” a man was saying.

  “You’re going to try to run him off, and I’m not going to let you do that again,” a woman replied.

  “You think I had anything to do with the last time? You’re fooling yourself.”

  “It’s Tailor and Miller,” Camille murmured. She could almost smell them, underneath the harsh exhaust smell that permeated the parking lot, and the fragrance of shaved wood and fresh paint that flowed out of the main door. Tailor smelled like old books, coffee, and iron. Miller smelled like oranges and acetone.

  “You’d do anything to get rid of him, John. For the hundredth time, I’m not stupid.”

  “And for the thousandth time, Charlotte, I’m flattered you think I have any influence over that walking disaster,” Tailor snapped. “Gabriel left because he was done with us, not for any other reason. Not you, not me, not Simon or Kyra. He was bored, so he left.”

  “They, ah, they’re...” Camille filed the comment away. “They’re having an argument. About you. Tailor said you’re...a walking disaster?”

  “From his perspective, I’m sure I am,” he said coolly. “I guessed it would be them, I just wanted to be sure.”

  “I can’t hear them very well,” Camille admitted. “Can something interfere with that?”

  “Hmm,” Gabriel remarked. “Call it...one of the side effects of this town. I just wasn’t sure how strongly it would affect you. Well, let’s not keep them waiting.” He exited the car, slamming the door shut loudly. Camille heard the conversation inside cease. She gathered her bag and climbed out of the car as well.

  “They’re going to ask you to leave,” Gabriel said lowly, as they approached the door. “You can protest if you like, but do it. You should be able to hear everything from your room anyway, if you care.”

  “Why wouldn’t I care?” Camille grumbled, and he patted her head.

  Their feet crunched in the gravel as they approached the door. Gabriel opened it, and looked convincingly surprised. “I wondered who would ambush me in my own space, but I suppose I should have expected,” he said.

  “No one’s ambushing,” Charlotte said.

  Tailor’s expression was sour. He regarded Gabriel with the sort of vitriol Camille chalked up to words like ‘arch enemy’ and ‘nemesis.’

  “I appreciate the thought, Charlotte, but John and I are both adults now. I believe we can be civil.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t,” she stated. “Camille, I’m very sorry to ask this, would you mind going upstairs? This is some very old, very boring grownup stuff.”

  That was a lie, and a poor one at that, Camille noted. Charlotte Miller was weak at deception.

  “It’s alright, kiddo, this won’t take long,” Gabriel said, offhand.

  “Whatever,” she muttered, in English. Camille climbed the steps, feeling superior. She and Gabriel could outsmart anyone. She shut the door to her room with an audible click, but she wasn’t inside. With her diminished hearing, she wouldn’t take any chances; she wasn’t missing this for anything. She stood in the hall, waiting for the conversation to trickle up the stairs. Eyes closed, she listened with ears perked.

  She heard a huff of breath. Frustration. Tailor.

  “If you wanted to talk to me alone,” Gabriel said, “have the sense to do it when Charlotte can’t follow you so easily.”

  “How dare you come back here,” Tailor seethed.

  “How dare I?” Gabriel copied lightly. “Such a dramatic turn of phrase. How dare I. Sounds like Shakespeare. I’m not sure we’re quite on that level yet.”

  “We’re well past that level, old man.”

  Old man? Camille frowned. They looked the same age.

  “Keep blaming me all you like, I don’t care,” Gabriel said calmly. “The reason I’m here has nothing to do with you. It didn’t before, and it doesn’t now.”

  “And I suppose you’re just here for the excellent school system, now that you’re a responsible parent?” Tailor bit off. “What on earth are you doing with that poor girl? Rin Umino will eat her alive. Is that why you brought her here? You’re bored with her, and decided it was time to get rid of her?”

  Camille’s blood pounded in her veins. She wanted to vault over the stairs and kick Tailor right in the face. Gabriel would never do that. He knew nothing.

  “She has to get into the world sometime,” Gabriel stated. “Maybe I waited a little too long, but I’m selfish that way. You want to attack me, Tailor? Why are you still here? I seem to recall you swearing to get out of Havenwood the first chance you got.”

  A beat of silence. Camille assumed Tailor was faltering at the sudden turnaround. “That’s none of your business,” the English teacher said lowly.

  “What did the Uminos promise you?” Gabriel asked. “What could possibly have kept you here?”

  “Gabriel, please,” Charlotte intervened. “That’s enough.”

  Silence again. Camille imagined Tailor glaring at her guardian. She anticipated Gabriel’s expression - infuriatingly pleasant and unruffled.

  “You want to know what I’m up to,” Gabriel said coolly. “You came to ask me what it was, even though you assumed I wouldn’t tell you. If I was secretive, you would be justified in distrusting me. I have bad news for you, Tailor. Times have changed, and my plans are really very simple. I want Camille to graduate high school, grow up, and do whatever she wants until she’s quite old. That’s the plan. Camille is going to survive all of you, no matter what happens. Right now that means walking into that school and handling whatever you, or Rin Umino, or anyone else dishes out to her. That girl can outlast the gods if she puts her mind to it.”

  Camille’s eyes widened. What on earth was he talking about? Outlast the gods?

  “You’re really going to claim that all of this is about her? And expect me to believe it?”

  “I won’t say I expect you to believe it, but yes.”

  Guilt panged in Camille’s chest. She had been selfish. She hadn’t realized all the trouble Gabriel was going to, all for her.

  “Fine,” Tailor said. “Then I only have one question. Where is the sword?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me!” Tailor shouted. “My father’s sword vanished the night you did. What did you do with it?”

  Gabriel sighed. “Some things really are just coincidence. I had nothing to do with that.”

  More silence.

  “You may be set on staying,” Tailor said lowly, “and I can’t stop you. But don’t expect to be welcomed. Everyone still remembers the county fair.”

  “Oh, do they still hold that every year?” Gabriel asked lightly.

  There was the scuffling sound of shoes on the tile. “John don’t!” Charlotte snapped.

  Camille risked a peek around the corner. Charlotte stood between them, her hands on Tailor’s shoulders, keeping him at bay. “It’s time to leave,” she told him. Tailor glared at Gabriel, who just shrugged.

  “Now,” Charlotte snapped.

  “Didn’t you want to ask him something, Charlotte?” Tailor said bitterly, though he backed off some.

  “No, I don’t,” Charlotte said firmly.

  “You sure? You didn’t wonder why Simon went missing the day before he turned in his ward’s enrollment papers?” Tailor accused, pointing at Gabriel. “Or was that a coincidence too?”

  Gabriel was silent.

  Simon? Who was Simon?

  Tailor threw up his hands. “Fine, don’t answer. Deny it. Deny everything. I’m sure horrible things are just random, and you always being there is just coincidence. You can smile and lie your way around everyone else, old man, but you don’t fool me.”

  He stormed out the front doors and Camille ducked back against the wall. As they shut behind him, it was almost like a pressure change in the air. Camille’s hearing improved immediately. The sound of Charlotte straightening her shirt was crisp.

  “For the record,” the chemistry teacher sa
id. “I don’t think you had anything to do with Simon. I’m sure he’s fine, wherever he is.”

  “You don’t think he was kidnapped, like they say?”

  A slow breath. Camille could hear her muscles moving. Shaking her head no, perhaps? “Not Simon.”

  “That would mean he abandoned his daughter, then. I wonder what would make him do that?”

  “Who can say,” Charlotte said softly. She sounded sad.

  “Coincidence or not, the timing is suspicious. John’s instincts are not bad,” Gabriel admitted.

  “You think someone is trying to frame you?” Charlotte asked.

  “Possibly. Though that seems too easy,” he said wryly. “I’m more concerned about what Simon has gotten involved in over the last decade or so. I should have kept better tabs on him. Without John or Kyra to hold him back, I fear his lack of caution will cause problems for all of us. He’s almost as selfish as I am.” Camille could hear Gabriel smile. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “Um, sure.” She could hear Charlotte blush. Yes, her hearing was definitely back to normal. And her chemistry teacher was totally into her guardian. Gross.

  Gabriel paused, like he was going to ask her one thing, and switched to something else. “There hasn’t been anything unusual going on at the school in the last week, has there?”

  Charlotte laughed. “You mean more unusual than usual? Not really. I mean, there’s been a small rash of theft in lockers, but we’ll figure out who that is soon enough. It’s probably Hyde, anyway,” she sighed. “I’m not sure that boy is worth the trouble he causes.”

  “Oh, alright.” Some papers shuffling. Gabriel was probably turning away to his inventory lists.

  “What were you actually going to ask me?” Charlotte asked.

  “No, it’s stupid, don’t worry about it.” He only said things like that to draw you in, and it worked on her like a charm.

  “There are no stupid questions. I’m a teacher, I’ve heard just about everything,” she teased.

  “I was going to ask if you’d heard from Simon at all recently. Like I said, a stupid question. Of course you haven’t.”

  “No, of course not,” she laughed nervously. She was disappointed in his question. She was also lying. Camille was taken aback. What was really going on around here?

  “If I knew where he was I’d feel better,” Gabriel said. “I suppose it’s up to the New York City police at this point.”

  “I guess so,” Charlotte said awkwardly. “Well, I’d better go. I’ve got lesson plans to finish up before tomorrow and a cat that will tear up my drapes if I’m not home soon. I’m looking forward to when this place is done - it’ll be nice having a place close to school to get good tea. You will have good tea, right?”

  “Promise.”

  “You’d better.” She paused. “Why Benvolio?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The name of the cafe, why did you pick Benvolio? It’s kind of odd.”

  “Is it? I just liked the sound of it.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Goodnight.”

  And then she was gone, the door clicking lightly in her wake. Camille descended the stairs.

  “I have bad news,” Gabriel said, bent over his inventory sheets. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

  “Why, because Ms. Miller lied to you?” Camille asked.

  “You heard it too? That’s my girl. I need you to help me keep tabs on her. She knows something about Simon Graham, and I need to know where he is as soon as possible.”

  “Graham? Like Jul Graham?”

  “Yes, that’s his daughter. Keep tabs on her, too. I doubt Simon will contact her, but stranger things have happened.”

  “What was that Tailor said about a sword?”

  Gabriel waved the question away. “Old family heirloom of theirs. I don’t have any swords. He would blame me for the common cold if someone suggested it. Extremely useful boy though...well, technically he’s a man now...” He looked up from the papers at her, eyes narrowed in thought. “Did you say what extra classes they’d given you?”

  She handed him the folder of her class schedules. “What’s so bad about this Simon guy anyway?” Camille wanted to know.

  “The most dangerous people in the world are idiots who think they’re geniuses. Simon is one of those, except he’s got talents that make him even more dangerous. In retrospect I should have dealt with him years ago, but at the time...” He shook his head. “Getting to the bottom of this Graham problem is numero uno.”

  “I thought you said we were here for my education,” she said, folding her arms.

  “I lied. A little. The sooner we find Simon Graham, the safer you’ll be. In the meantime, what say we humiliate these Havenwood snobs a little, hmm?” He began flipping through the folder.

  “I’m not going to be awesome at English by tomorrow,” Camille grumbled.

  “Well, Rin Umino may have given you that,” he said, sifting through her folder and holding up a green piece of paper. “But she also put you in kendo. Are you ready to kick some ass?” he grinned.

  Camille grinned back. If there was one thing she did well...

  Chapter 6

  Mac

  At lunch the next day, Destin reiterates his disapproval of yesterday’s tactics. We carry our trays of food to our usual table. Other people tend to not sit by us. Because we’re cool like that.

  “Just to be clear - your brilliant plan was to ambush her coming out of Umino’s office and show up late to English so Tailor could publicly ridicule you.”

  “Your sarcasm, while hilarious, is not helpful. My plan was to offer gentlemanly assistance to a disoriented new student.”

  “And then get publicly ridiculed in front of her.”

  I sigh, sitting down. “You know what? Public ridicule is getting to be a sort of daily thing for me, so I figured, why not?”

  I cast a glance to our right, where Jul sits alone at a table, forlornly stirring a bowl of vegetable soup. “We should go sit at her table,” I say in an undertone. “Do you see how sad she looks?”

  Destin glances over the top of the comic he’s already cracked open. He has a bad habit of reading all through lunch and forgetting to eat. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of young love, but I think that’s a bad idea. I mean I feel bad for her and all...”

  “She’s all alone over there!” I exclaim as quietly as I can. “It’s like a tragedy!”

  “And yet...”

  Splat. A bowl of pudding upends onto my head. Laughter erupts from a couple tables away. Hyde slides onto the bench beside me, arm around my shoulder. “How’s my favorite leprechaun? I found you a hat.”

  Oh, how I love that all the grades eat lunch together. It is so cozy.

  I push him away. He smells like cigarettes and old laundry. Now I feel like I need a shower, for more reasons than the pudding in my hair.

  “Thanks, that was all that was missing from my life,” I say through my teeth.

  “You’re welcome, little buddy,” he says, squishing the bowl into my hair one more time. “Don’t forget to drink your milk so you can grow up big and strong! You remember what day it is, don’t you?” He cackles, returning to a table with some other juniors who give him a round of high-fives.

  I slide the bowl out of my hair and towel my head with my napkin.

  “My point is,” Destin says, handing me his napkins, “I don’t think proximity to us will improve her situation. Exhibit A,” he nods at my hair.

  Maybe he’s right. At least for today. It’s Tuesday, and Tuesdays and Thursdays put Hyde in especially high spirits, because that’s when he gets free reign to beat people up in kendo. As you might imagine, this is not my favorite class. I’d rather be pretending not to be totally tiny in karate the other days of the week. With kendo, I still have to pretend not to be totally tiny, but with a sword. What the heck am I supposed to do with a sword when I can’t reach? My only comfort is that Destin sucks at it too, so at least I
’m not the only one looking like an idiot. We do a lot better as a team of idiots.

  The thing about karate and kendo, like all the other “extracurricular” classes, is that you aren’t just with your homeroom, or even your grade. You’re with whoever signed up for it – or had been signed up for it whether they wanted to or not. In the case of karate and kendo, the only people from our homeroom are me, Destin, Jacques Olivier, and Brandon Underwood. Jacques is from Canada, and speaks French as easily as he does English, and likes to let everyone know it. He’s surgically attached to his cell phone and thinks he’s superior because he hangs out with seniors. Brandon is a lot calmer. He’s pretty much permanently attached at the hip to his girlfriend Kenna, also in our class. When they’re not breaking up, they’re getting back together. Again, to each their own.

  Anyway, we’re thankfully spared the company of Hayley’s fancy-pants band, but in return we get Hyde. I’m still undecided as to whether the tradeoff is worth it.

  I hit the front of my locker as three of the juniors elbow roughly past me, laughing. I straighten my gi, my white uniform, and glare at their backs as they leave the locker room.

  Like clockwork. If kendo is my least favorite thing, it’s the highlight of these guys’ week. They get free reign to attack people with a freaking sword. It’s a dull wooden sword, sure, but it leaves some bruises, let me tell you.

  To make matters worse, Hyde is Ikeda-sensei’s best student. A couple of the others can get hits in on him, if they’re lucky, but he’s as yet undefeated. A senior, Poggio, had come close last week, but then Hyde almost broke his wrist. Now Poggio sits on the sidelines with his arm in a sling and Hyde’s back to trying to trip Destin when Ikeda-sensei isn’t looking.

  I sigh with resignation as I step out of the locker room into the dojo. It’s Tuesday, so I’d just have to live with it. But today ends up being a lot more...entertaining than I had anticipated.

 

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