by Robin Caroll
Nikki chuckled, too. “Your mom’s a famous journalist, so I bet she’ll give Mrs. Trees an earful.”
“I’m sure. We’ll know how it goes if they let me stay in school.”
“I hadn’t planned on telling you this, but, well, you’ve more than proved you won’t tell.”
“What?” Sam sat upright in the bed fast enough that Chewy startled, then jumped to the floor.
“When I got home from school today and checked the mail, I had a package from Amazon. I hadn’t ordered anything, so I was pretty excited. When I opened the box, it was a bottle of diet pills.” Nikki sniffed over the connection. “I can assure you that I didn’t order them.”
OhMyGummyBears! “Did you look at the packing slip?”
“I did. It has my mom’s name on it.” Nikki sniffed again. “You don’t think my mom ordered them for me, do you?”
Sam’s instinct was to say no, but she didn’t know Mrs. Cole that well. “I wouldn’t think she would. Not without telling you anyway.”
“I didn’t think so either, so I threw the pills and box away.”
What? Destroying evidence? “Did you throw away the packing slip, too?” Please say no.
“Well, yes.”
Sam swallowed the desire to scream. “Can you get it back? The packing slip at least?”
“It’s in the garbage can outside.”
“Can you get it?”
Nikki sighed. “Maybe. Depends on if Jefferson carried out the trash today like he was supposed to. If he did, there’s no way I’m going to dig through all that stuff. It’s nasty.”
“If you can, get the packing slip and bring it to school tomorrow. If I’m still there by last period, I’ll get it and see if I can do some searching.” Sam struggled to keep her voice even. This could be a huge break. When someone ordered something from Amazon, they had to pay for it, so it had to go to someone’s account.
“I’ll try. If I can, I’ll bring it.” Nikki coughed. “Do you think your mom will get Mrs. Trees to forget about the suspension?”
“I don’t know.” Mom was sure adamant that Mrs. Trees couldn’t suspend her. “I think so.”
“Good. I hope you aren’t. Then I’d feel really bad.”
No time for more guilt trips. “Hey, did you get any homecoming queen campaign posters put up?”
“I did. About ten, but four mysteriously disappeared. I reported that to Mrs. Creegle.”
Sam remembered what Makayla had overheard Mrs. Trees say to Felicia. “Do you know Felicia Adams personally?”
“Not really, why?”
“No reason.” No point in making Nikki worried about someone else not liking her if Felicia didn’t turn out to be the bully.
“Hey, listen, my mom’s hollering for me to help Jefferson with his homework before our dad comes by to check on us. And before you ask, I’m not telling my parents about the diet pills. If Mom did order them, Dad will get mad, and they’ve been getting along really well lately, so I don’t want to say anything that could change that.”
“Okay, I understand. Don’t forget about the packing slip,” Sam said.
“I won’t. And thanks again, Sam, for having my back.”
Sam hung up the phone. How long would she be able to keep it all a secret if Mom couldn’t talk Mrs. Trees out of the suspension? If she missed ten days a semester, she wouldn’t pass. She couldn’t do seventh grade again. It’d be part of her permanent record, and she’d never get the Mizzou scholarship.
God, please help me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Knots tightened in Sam’s stomach.
She glanced at Mrs. Darrington, who didn’t even look up from her desk. Kids talked loudly as they passed the door on their way to class. The bell had rung a few minutes ago, and according to the clock on the wall in the school office, the tardy bell would sound in twenty-one seconds.
Twenty.
Nineteen.
Sam glanced down the hall toward Mrs. Trees’ office. Mom had been in there for at least fifteen minutes. Right after Mom had gone in there, Mrs. Shine had rushed in. Was that a good sign or not?
Brring!
She tapped her backpack sitting on the floor between her feet with her toes and let out a slow breath. Her cheer practice clothes were inside it. Would she get kicked off the cheer team before today was over? She hoped not. She really loved cheer.
The office door opened and several students filed inside, all jockeying for the computer on the front desk to get their tardy pass.
Melanie Olson was in the back of the line. She gave a little nod to Sam.
Sam smiled back, bigger than she normally would.
A bit hesitantly, Melanie moved closer. “What’re you in here for?”
“I might be suspended.”
“That’s right. I heard that yesterday afternoon.”
“Yeah.” Sam watched two kids tear off their passes and leave. Only three were in line before Melanie. “You late because you got hung up at your locker?” She needed to figure out how to work Nikki into the conversation, and quickly.
Melanie frowned. “No. Traffic.” She hoisted her backpack to her shoulder. “We had to move to an apartment, and the district hasn’t updated the bus route for us yet, so Mom’s having to drop me off on her way to work. I’ve been late four times already this semester.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. If my dad hadn’t lost his job, none of this would be happening.”
Another student grabbed her pass and left.
“I’m sorry your dad lost his job. He worked at the Hewlett Packard plant in Conway, right?” She didn’t mean to be blunt, but she was running out of time.
“Yeah, until Mrs. Cole fired him.” Melanie shook her head. “It’s not fair that Mrs. Cole still has her job and is able to keep living in her pretty house with Nikki and Jefferson, but my dad got laid off after almost ten years, and we have to move to an apartment.”
“It’s not her fault, Melanie. Mrs. Cole didn’t make the decision.”
Melanie snorted. “Think that all you want, but she doesn’t seem too torn up about wrecking everyone’s lives. Like five hundred lives.”
The girl in front of Melanie tore off her pass and headed out the door. Melanie scanned her student ID badge, then clicked on the big TARDY button. Her pass printed out. “See you later,” she told Sam as she headed out the door.
Maybe Melanie was more of a suspect than Sam had first considered.
The door to the office opened, and Dad and his new partner, Buster Roscoe, strode. Dad did not look happy to see her.
Mrs. Darrington shot to her feet. “May I help you?” Her eyes were drawn to Buster with his smooth black skin, his shiny bald head, and dark eyes. There was something about him that made people tell him their deepest, darkest secrets. At least that’s what Dad said.
“We’re Detectives Sanderson and Roscoe, here to see Mrs. Trees,” Dad said. “She’s expecting us.”
What? She’d called the police? Sam’s anxiousness flipped into overdrive.
“Oh, about the break-in. Of course. Let me escort you to her office.” Mrs. Darrington made a motion to come from behind the counter.
“It’s okay. I know the way.” Dad led Detective Roscoe down the hallway, not even looking back at Sam.
Mrs. Darrington watched them leave, then met Sam’s gaze. “Isn’t that your dad?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She made a harrumphing sound before going back to her desk.
Break-in? What was going on?
“Sam,” Mom said.
Sam lifted her backpack and met her mom in the hallway. “What’s going on?”
“You aren’t suspended, but you’ll most likely be questioned by your father in a few moments.”
“What?” Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “Questioned?”
“I can’t explain more just yet, but Mrs. Trees asks that you just sit tight for a few minutes.” Mom gave her a quick hug. “It’s going to be
okay. I have to run. I have a meeting with Pastor Patterson. I’ll pick you up after cheer practice.” She planted a quick kiss on Sam’s cheek, then headed out the door.
Sam slumped back onto the bench, still clutching her backpack strap. She couldn’t imagine what on earth Dad would need to question her about. Nothing made sense. At least she wasn’t kicked off cheer squad.
She had missed being able to talk to Makayla this morning because Mom had made her come sit in the office and wait while she talked with Mrs. Trees. At least they’d talked on the phone last night. Makayla hated that Sam was in the hot seat, and had offered a possible solution: give them the bogus address the email had been sent from. That would give them some place to start. Sam hadn’t volunteered that. Maybe, if Mom hadn’t been able to talk Mrs. Trees into dismissing the suspension, she would’ve offered that up.
The intercom buzzed. Mrs. Darrington answered it and spoke into the receiver quietly before replacing it to its cradle. “Sam, they want you in Mrs. Trees’ office.”
Sam stood on wobbly knees and made her way down the hall. It felt like she was headed to the guillotines they’d studied in history earlier in September. The floor pulled at her feet, slowing every single step.
Finally outside Mrs. Trees’ office, she knocked softly on the door.
“Come in,” Mrs. Trees’ voice practically boomed.
She nudged the door open.
“Come in, Sam, and have a seat.” Mrs. Trees waved at the empty chair beside Detective Roscoe.
Dad stood closer to the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t make eye contact with Sam or acknowledge her in any way.
“I’m sure your mother informed you that I have graciously reconsidered your suspension,” the principal said.
Sam nodded. Graciously reconsidered? More likely that Mom had called her out, and Mrs. Trees had no choice but to dismiss the suspension, but if she wanted to save face . . . whatever.
“What you’re here for now is a different matter.”
Sam held her breath, waiting.
“Last night or early this morning, the school’s EAST lab was broken into.”
Sam gasped.
Mrs. Trees continued. “Three computers were stolen.”
“No way!” So many of the school’s business partners had helped with raising the funds for the newer computers.
“After informing the police about your knowledge of some unknown party breaking into the EAST lab to send an email on Tuesday evening, they were most interested in questioning you.” Mrs. Trees smiled, but it wasn’t a nice kind of smile. More like a smirk.
Sam didn’t like it. “I don’t know who broke in to send the email.”
“Samantha,” Detective Roscoe began.
“It’s just Sam.”
He smiled, revealing a row of perfectly straight and obnoxiously white teeth. “Sam. We understand you don’t know the person’s identity, but we need to know everything you know so we can investigate this theft to the best of our abilities.”
Oh, he was good, Sam would give him that. “I don’t know anything.”
Dad pushed off the wall and sat on the edge of Mrs. Trees’ desk. “What about the email you traced back to having been sent from one of these computers?”
“I can’t give you that. You know this.” That was what was most frustrating — Dad knew she couldn’t tell him. They’d discussed this to the point of insanity last night.
“Can you tell us anything about the email? Maybe just what was written? There might be something we can go off by knowing how something was worded,” Detective Roscoe said.
That was something she hadn’t considered. Sam licked her lips. She mentally went over the email’s content. The part about being nominated for homecoming court would let them know it was one of six people. No way would Nikki let her give them that. Sam couldn’t tell them everything. Not after having just proved her word was good.
But she could tell them some of what was in the email. “Some of it, I can’t share with you.”
“Some of it you can?” Detective Roscoe asked.
She nodded. Sam pulled a spiral notebook from her backpack. She grabbed the pen off Mrs. Tree’s desk and wrote: “You are so fat. Ugly. You . . . as a joke. Everybody knows that but you. Now you are the joke.” She handed the paper to Detective Roscoe. “I didn’t put in the part that I can’t share with you.”
“Thank you, Sam.” His voice was soft, soothing. He scanned the paper, then handed it to Dad before returning his attention back to her. “Are you sure this is exactly how it was worded in the original email?”
She nodded. “Positive. I have a freakish memory for stuff like this.” She smiled and cut her eyes to the principal, then back to him. “Comes in handy when studying for tests.”
Detective Roscoe flashed that bright smile of his again. “I would imagine it does.”
With that smile, Sam could easily imagine suspects spilling their guts to him.
“Is there anything else you can tell us about the email?”
Sam remembered what Makayla had told her last night on the phone. “The email address it came from.”
Dad handed the paper back to his partner and faced Sam with his bulldog look. “You couldn’t have told me this last night? Or your principal yesterday?”
She tried to swallow, but the boulder caught in the back of her throat. “I couldn’t.”
“But you can today?” Dad’s face grew redder and redder.
“What’s the email address?” Detective Roscoe asked in a soft and even tone.
“truthtelr-at-gmail-dot-com.” She spelled it out for him.
He jotted it on the bottom of her sheet. “Anything else?” His smile was blinding and more annoying now.
“That’s it. That’s all I can tell you.”
Detective Roscoe folded the sheet and slipped it in the front pocket of his shirt. “This is a good start. Thank you, Sam.”
She nodded.
“Sam, I’ll appeal to you again to at least tell the counselor who is being bullied,” Dad said. “As I’ve explained, these situations usually escalate.”
“I’ll keep encouraging the person to visit Mrs. Creegle.”
“Our Pathfinders is a great counseling program here. Mrs. Creegle will be happy to assist your friend in signing up,” Mrs. Trees said, all smiles.
“I’ll remind her.”
“Sam,” Dad said in a low voice, drawing her attention. “If you have any information about the break-in . . .”
“I don’t. I promise. I learned about it when I came in here.”
“Okay. But if you hear anything, you need to let the office know, or me,” Dad’s tone left no doubt that it was an order and not a request.
“You may go to class, Samantha.” Mrs. Trees handed her a pass. It was marked as an excused tardy.
She grabbed her backpack and hurried out of the office before they changed their minds and asked her more questions. She all but ran up the stairs of both ramps before stopping at her locker. Sam quickly hung up her backpack with her practice clothes inside and swapped out books. She slammed the locker shut and headed to English class.
It was hard to pay attention in classes all day as talk floated around campus about the stolen computers. Dad and Detective Roscoe had called in a Crime Scene Unit, so the EAST lab was closed off to everyone all day. EAST classes were held in the media center, where the EAST students were questioned by Dad and his partner.
Lunch had been quite loud with everyone talking over one another. Sam saw Nikki sitting across the cafeteria close to Aubrey. She waited until Aubrey had gone back to the food counter for a napkin, then rushed to Nikki. “Did you get the shipping label?”
Nikki shot a quick look at the counter where Aubrey was chatting with Paul Moore. Nikki pulled out a crumbled piece of paper and handed it to Sam. “Here.”
Sam took the label and pushed it into her pocket before heading back to her seat. Aubrey stared
hard at Sam as she returned to her seat close to Nikki.
Sitting down, Sam showed Makayla the packing slip. “Look . . . the order was in Nikki’s mom’s name.”
“Surely her mother wouldn’t have ordered diet pills for her. All of those are dangerous for teenagers,” Makayla said.
“I bet someone used her account.” Sam stared at the label. “Would it be hard to hack into someone’s Amazon account?”
“Depends. From an outside system? They’d have to be better than whoever sent Nikki the email. But from a computer where Mrs. Cole had logged into her account? It could be done fairly easy. Even for an amateur.”
“I wonder if Mrs. Cole has logged in on her work computer.” Sam thought aloud.
Makayla let out a little laugh. “I’m sure she has. A recent study reported that over seventy-three percent of employees have used their workplace computer to order something non-work related.”
Sam shook her head. “You and your studies.”
Makayla laughed as lunch drew to an end. Sam gave her bestie a hug before heading back to class. She still had two more classes to suffer through until newspaper. For the first time in her life, she dreaded going to the Senator Speak classroom. What if Ms. Pape kicked her off the newspaper? Surely Mom had stressed to Mrs. Trees that wasn’t an alternative to the suspension.
By the time the bell rang for last period, the rumor was that someone in EAST had stolen the computers. Sam went into the newsroom, her stomach tightening again.
Aubrey stood in the front of the class. “I guess everyone’s heard by now about the break-in at our school last night.”
Murmurs went around the room.
“While Samantha’s father is on the case, Ms. Pape and I feel we should give the story to someone else. This will also allow Samantha to continue her series on bullying.” Aubrey shot Sam one of her snarky smiles.
Sam started to debate, but caught the look on Ms. Pape’s face. It was obvious arguing would be futile, so instead, she just opened the notes section on her iPad to look at her notes on bullying.
“I’m going to assign Nikki the story about the breakin and theft,” Aubrey announced.
