Shift (tory brennan)
Page 7
“Hey,” the chunky one said. Hiram? He seemed bummed. Slouching back, he muttered something about a mountain-sized Twix.
The muscular kid simply nodded.
Tory was the only one who seemed glad to see us. “Hey, Kit. Didn’t you know we were coming?”
“No, I did not,” Kit said patiently. “You neglected to mention it at breakfast, outside on the lawn, or as you bolted out the door.”
“Oh, sorry. My bad.” She smiled sweetly.
Kit shrugged.
Hiram suddenly sat up. “Any news on the break-in?”
The other kids shot glances his direction. For some reason, they glared.
Huh?
Kit missed the exchange. “You’re not going to believe this. The robbery was an inside job. One of LIRI’s own techs.”
“Get out!” Hi exclaimed.
“Oh.” Sheldon/Elton studied his shoes. “Neat.”
Muscle Boy didn’t even blink.
Huh?
“Wow.” Tory cocked her head. “Tell us what happened.”
“The suspect made several crucial mistakes.” Kit summarized what he’d pieced together in the last few hours. “Though I still don’t get why Terry shut down the sprinkler system,” he finished. “Maybe he worried the equipment would get wet.”
“Sounds like you saved the day.” Tory, face neutral. “Great job, Kit.”
Hiram groaned and slumped back again, staring up at the sky.
Their reactions surprised me. No curiosity? No barrage of questions?
Earlier this morning, Tory had seemed fascinated.
Now? She simply smiled. Listened. Nodded in the appropriate places.
Only one word described her expression. Smug.
Something wasn’t right. I looked each of them over, top to toe.
Hiram lay flat on his back, legs outstretched, sneakers propped on the bench’s stone armrest. He wore an older style of tennis shoe — a black-and-white checkerboard pattern popular two decades back. Hideous.
I recognized the brand. In middle school, my daughter, Katy, had been obsessed with Vans.
But more importantly, with his feet up I could see the tread on his soles.
Waffle print.
Identical to the marks I’d found inside the garage and by Terry’s locker.
The marks I hadn’t described to Kit. Given Terry’s confession, my finding had no longer seemed important.
Casually, I pulled out my cell phone and examined the three photos I’d taken.
Then I stepped closer to Hiram and scanned the bottom of his shoe.
I’ll be damned.
Hiram noticed me eyeballing his footwear. Eyes narrowing, he tried to swing his feet away, but overbalanced and rolled off the bench.
“Nice one,” Sheldon/Elton said. Muscle Boy smirked.
I caught Hiram’s eye. “Cool shoes. Classic tread. Very distinctive.”
“Thanks?” He sounded a touch nervous.
Hi lurched back onto the bench, but kept his soles firmly planted on the ground.
In my periphery, I noticed Tory watching me intently. The smugness was gone.
My my my.
My eyes dropped to the images on my iPhone.
These four were hiding something. What?
I was sure they wouldn’t have done anything really wrong. But I was equally certain of something else: They’d been inside that garage.
I looked at Tory. Our eyes locked. She knew I was suspicious. Which confirmed my suspicion.
I held her gaze. Saw what I needed to see.
Keep your secret.
Pocketing my phone, I snagged Kit’s elbow. “Come on, Monsieur L’Directeur. These guys didn’t come out here to hang with us.”
“Right.” Kit ruffled Tory’s hair. “Stay out of trouble.”
Walking back toward Building One, I felt eyes on my back. Knew Tory was tracking our retreat.
And I had a devilish thought.
“Give me a sec, Kit. I’ll meet you inside.”
“Sure thing.”
I snagged my phone and selected the best footprint photo of the series.
Attached it to a text message.
Selected the recipient.
Hit send.
Paused. Waited.
Out in the courtyard, I saw Tory reach into her pocket. She glanced down, then stiffened.
Her eyes whipped my way.
With a five-finger-waggle, I slipped inside.
Gotcha.
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