The Case of the Bad Twin

by Shannon Greenland

  Using her knuckle, Aunt Grace pushes her red glasses up her nose. “As long as you’re having fun, and as long as you’re being safe.”

  “Oh, I’m being safe,” I assure her, stretching the truth just a wee bit.

  Turning, she heads back inside. “I’m making scrambled tofu with tomatoes and chilies. You want some?”

  “Absolutely!” I’m starving. I stuff everything back inside my painted mermaid bag, grab Clover, and head inside.

  After breakfast and after Aunt Grace leaves in her Airstream Juice Truck, I dial Wayne and I leave a message. “Wayne, this is Penny-Ann. Can you please call me? It’s about Vail.” I don’t go into details about last night’s creepy call. I’d rather talk to Wayne directly.

  As I’m clicking off, another call comes in. This one from Principal Berger. I don’t want to talk to him, especially after the anonymous email he received with Mom’s mug shot. Plus, he’s probably going to tell me to go ahead and officially cancel everything. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll focus on something else. After all, I am the one who organized everything. I’m the one with all the contacts for the burial ceremony.

  He leaves a message and with a sigh, I listen. “Principal Berger here. I wanted an update on everything. I’m getting calls from people wanting to know if the ceremony is on or not. The reporter from News Channel 4 left me a message, too. Call me. The ceremony is the day after tomorrow.”

  I look down at Clover. “Like I would forget.”

  First stop today, the historian who donated the VCR tape of the President visiting Piper Island and the album with the hurricane photos. It only takes me a few minutes to grab my bag, tuck Clover in her basket and hit the coastal highway.

  The ocean breeze is in my favor, and roughly ten minutes later I roll past campus, heading straight toward the north side. I cut one block over and pull up outside the two-story brick house where the historian lives, Mr. Roeger.

  Juniper covers his small yard instead of grass, and as I head up the brick walkway, an armadillo lumbers out from underneath a thatch on the right, crossing right in front of me and disappearing into a thatch on the left.

  For a good solid minute, I stand stock-still, holding Clover to my chest, staring at the juniper move as Mr. Armadillo tunnels off, making his way through. The only other time I ever saw an armadillo was last year in Mr. Taylor’s yard. I went to pet it and he nearly had a heart attack. It was then I learned they are quite the mean little animal. Pretty much blind, too. Hence the reason why he didn’t see me just now.

  Still, I hurry past his crossing and up onto the porch. I knock a couple of times, glancing over my shoulder at the juniper, and Mr. Roeger finally answers.

  Like the last time I was here, Mr. Roeger’s black and gray hair sits in these bed-heady clumps. He has a phone to his ear and a coffee stain on his light green T-shirt. Holding up a finger to me, he finishes talking to whoever he’s on the phone with before hanging up.

  “Penny-Ann,” he says. “What are you doing here?”

  I jab my thumb over my shoulder. “Did you know you have an armadillo living in your juniper?”

  “Oh, yeah. There’s a whole family. They’re harmless enough.” He smiles. “What can I do you for?”

  “Did you know that five nights ago someone broke into the school and took the time capsule?”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. Officer Crawl told me.”

  “Officer Crawl?” That surprises me. I thought he could care less.

  “Do you need me to give you another VCR tape and photo album?”

  “You have extras?”

  “Of course.”

  So, neither the VCR tape nor the photo album are one-of-a-kinds and likely not the reason why the capsule was taken.

  With a sigh, I glance over my shoulder, checking on the juniper again. Clover squirms to be let down, but I don’t let her. There’s no way I’m letting her get eaten by an armadillo.

  But, as I’m glancing over my shoulder, I note that Mr. Roeger does have a clear shot of the campus through two other houses. Maybe he saw something.

  I redirect my questioning. Pulling out my phone, I show him first a picture of Rocco and then one of Josie. “Both of these kids have admitted to being on campus that night. Do you remember seeing them? Did you happen to see anybody else?”

  Taking my phone, he flips back and forth between their photos before handing it back to me. “I was on my porch that night, and I did see two kids running across campus. One had long hair, and one had a mohawk.”

  His phone rings. “I work from home, so I really need to get this. Let me know if you need duplicates of those items I gave you.”

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  “You bet.”

  He goes to click his door closed and on a last thought says, “Oh, and the one with the mohawk had a backpack.”

  “You don’t say. I don’t suppose you saw the color of that backpack? Was it blue and black?”

  “Sorry, too dark to tell.”

  A backpack with, I’m sure, the time capsule inside.

  Mr. Roeger closes the door, and I turn away to face the campus. Two kids. One with long hair and one with a mohawk. Josie has long brown hair, so that fits, but who the heck has a mohawk?

  Then there’s the backpack again. I know pretty much every kid has a backpack, but let’s say it’s the blue and black one. I’ve seen Rocco with it. Ean, too. I’ve also seen it in the office at The Pit. I’ve seen it three times now, and the time at the skate park, I was right there. I could’ve leaned down and opened it to see exactly what was inside.

  If I see that backpack again, I’m not messing around. I’m taking down whoever has it.

  Trotting down the steps, I sprint past the juniper and head back to my bike. As I do I notice a guy jogging through the neighborhood, and my heart begins to race as I realize it’s Vail.

  Wait, not Vail, Wayne. Yes, the hair’s a tad longer. It’s Wayne.

  He hasn’t returned my call from earlier, and I’m not entirely sure why, but way down deep in my gut I get this twist of irritation. It’s not like I go around calling people for no reason. He’s the one who encouraged me to call him if there were any more problems.

  Clearly, nothing is wrong with his phone because he’s currently jogging with it gripped in his right hand as he listens to whatever is queued up.

  Fine, then we’ll talk now. Plopping Clover in her basket, I swing my leg over Lolli and lunge forward, crossing the empty street. I barrel past, holding onto Clover as I hop the sidewalk, and come to a skidding stop a few feet from him.

  Wayne jumps back, plucking his earbuds free. Clover barks, and it surprises me. That’s twice in the last few days she’s done that. Maybe she’s turning a corner, going from muffled woofs to real barks. “Good girl,” I tell her.

  I can’t see Wayne’s eyes behind the shades, but I say, “Did you get my message?”

  “Penny-Ann, hey.” He smiles. “What message?”

  I nod to his phone and he checks it, shaking his head. I know I called his number because his voice mail picked up.

  “No,” he says, wiping sweat off his face. “Nothing here.”

  I find that hard to believe, but instead of arguing that point, I say, “I got a series of prank calls last night, and I think it was your brother.”

  With an irritated sigh, Wayne shakes his head. “Are you sure?”

  I bring the call log up on my phone and show it to Wayne. “Do you recognize that number?”

  He leans in. “No, what makes you think it was Vail?”

  “Well, who else would it be?”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Wayne promises.

  A lot of good that’s going to do, but Wayne is right. I don’t know for sure it was Vail. Changing topics, I say, “What do you know about that night Josie and Rocco were here at the school? By the way, where is Josie? Is she on vacation with your parents or what? Listen, I worked hard to organize the capsule and burial ceremony. I want answers.”


  Using the neck of his tee, Wayne wipes more sweat from his face. “I know as much as anyone else. My sister came here to meet Rocco and saw him running away with something under his arm.”

  “Yeah, well, I heard there was another kid here.” I straighten my yellow silk neck scarf. “One with a mohawk.”

  Wayne’s brows go up. “Where’d you hear that?”

  I jab my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of Mr. Roeger’s home. “The historian who donated to the capsule.”

  Wayne looks over at the house, too, nodding.

  “Is Josie with your parents? She’s avoiding my texts and calls. She’s avoiding Rocco’s, too. Oh, but apparently she’s found time to call Principal Berger.”

  Wayne brings his attention back to me. “Yes, she’s with my parents, and I really don’t know about anything else.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me she was going on vacation with your parents?”

  “I don’t know.” He starts jogging in place. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

  I watch him jog off, feeling unsatisfied with that conversation. I try not to get irritated Josie didn’t tell me about going away with her parents, but honestly, I don’t tell her stuff when I’m mad at her, so I get it. Still, given what’s going on, she could at least return my calls.

  When Wayne rounds the corner, I climb back on Lolli and peddle away. The mohawk kid is a new lead.

  Reaching inside my messenger bag, I grab my peanut butter and Nutella sandwich. After giving a tiny bit to Clover, I munch on it as I peddle away. I want to look at a yearbook. I could go to campus and look at the one in the library, but if I do that, I have to see Principal Berger.

  I decide to go home instead. I’m not immediately recalling who has a mohawk, but a quick flip through the pages of my personal yearbook might just answer that question.

  Chapter 25

  An hour into flipping through the yearbook and surfing the Instagram accounts of students, and I’m no closer to finding the mohawk kid. Oddly, though, it doesn’t get me down. This mohawk thing is a new lead.

  Early afternoon sun streams in my blinds, hitting Clover. She rolls over onto her back with all four little legs in the air, and with a grin, I rub her belly and kiss her tiny nose.

  “Let’s go,” I tell her.

  She knows those words and flips over to trot across the house toward the front door. Grabbing my messenger bag, I lock up behind and skip down the front porch steps.

  Birds chirp, a breeze tickles the chimes, the smell of bacon drifts through the air. I nearly float across the front yard, feeling energized and re-focused with the new lead.

  Ducking into the carport, I lean down to swoop up Clover. I go to put her in her basket, and I freeze when I see what’s inside. It’s a stuffed Pocket Beagle, just like Clover, and it’s been cut open with all of its white filling removed and piled beside it.

  My heart leaps to light speed, and I grip Clover so tight she yelps. I flounder back away from Lolli, my foot catches on a bucket, and I go crashing to the cement floor. But I don’t register pain as I scramble back.

  For several seconds my mind shuts down. I have a quick image of Clover in the basket instead of a stuffed toy, and I burst into tears. My mom gave me Clover. I would die if anything ever happened to her.

  Clover wiggles free from my death grip and runs across the front yard back to the porch. I push to my feet, turning in a panicked circle, afraid whoever did this is about to attack me. But I’m all alone, just me and the carport and Lolli.

  I want to run and hide, but instead, I step toward Lolli, my heart still racing, and I gulp in a breath as I look back down into the basket. My hands clench so hard that my fingernails dig into my palms.

  It’s then that I notice a note lying beside the gutted stuffed animal. My whole body sways off balance and with a shaky hand, I reach into the basket and pick it up. It takes a few blinks and a hard focus before I read the typed words:

  * * *

  STOP BEING NOSY.

  OR ELSE.

  * * *

  I read and re-read those two lines, and the more I do, the more furious I begin to feel. I don’t know who left this, but my first instinct is Vail. He threatened me at The Pit and then he came to my home that night and left the creepy note. He admitted both of those things to Wayne. Plus, there are the scary prank calls I received.

  This is all because of the time capsule. If I wouldn’t have gone to The Pit that day in search of it and Josie, I wouldn’t be on Vail’s radar. But unfortunately, I am.

  What kind of person would threaten a dog? A horrible person, that’s who!

  I snatch my mermaid bag off the floor and grab my phone. I take a couple of pictures, and I send them to Wayne with a text: GET YOUR BROTHER UNDER CONTROL!

  He doesn’t text back. Big surprise.

  I grab it all up and shove it down inside the garbage. I lock Clover in the house, double-checking every lock on every door and window, then I set out on Lolli.

  Barreling down the coastal highway, I cut a right at the fork and head straight for Aunt Grace and the Juice Truck. I don’t care if I can’t prove Vail did this Clover thing, she needs to see it.

  Minutes later I screech to a stop by Aunt Grace’s yellow Thing, trot up the few back steps, and push through the Airstream’s door.

  Aunt Grace’s head jerks up. “Oh my goodness, you scared me.”

  I look around. “Where’s Nathan?”

  “He doesn’t come in until later.”

  Glancing outside, I see a few kids wandering this way from across the road where the skate park sits. I better talk quick. I shove my phone and the picture under Aunt Grace’s nose.

  She slips her glasses down from the crown of her head onto her nose. It takes her a second to register what she’s looking at and then she gasps. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “You know I’ve been looking for the time capsule, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Josie was there the night it was stolen, I told you that already, so I went to The Pit looking for her. I had a creepy run-in with her older brother, Vail. I ended up hitting him with a paperweight because I was so scared. I thought that was the last I would see of him, but then he came to our house that night you were at Mr. Taylor’s doing your ballroom thing. Vail left a scary note that he knew I was alone in the house.”

  Aunt Grace sucks in a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this?”

  “I was going to, but then I got sidetracked with everything else. Then I got some prank calls with heavy breathing and weird giggles. His brother, Wayne, said he would handle it. Then he told me his parents knew and were stepping in. But now this Clover thing—” my breath hitches— “Aunt Grace, you’ve got to do something.”

  “Stay here,” she commands, ripping the phone from my hand and charging out of the Juice Truck. I watch out the window as she disconnects the tow hitch on the Thing and peels out of the parking lot.

  It’s not often Aunt Grace gets mad but watch out when she does.

  Nearly an hour goes by and I occupy myself with serving customers and cleaning here and there. Eventually, I get hungry and snack on some sliced cucumbers while I wait. I fidget with a new juice recipe involving radishes and cinnamon and end up pouring it out.

  As I’m cleaning up that mess, I catch sight of Aunt Grace’s purse under the counter with an envelope wedged down in the side. It’s the same envelope I saw in our mail basket.

  I check to make sure the coast is clear, and I slip the envelope free. It contains one single sheet of paper and at the top in big bold red print is FINAL NOTICE. My gaze runs down the columns of legal jargon all the way to the bottom where I read TOTAL DUE NOW: $1,000.00.

  My eyes widen as I stare at the number. This is from my mom’s lawyer and must be a bill for her latest legal fees. I’m guessing this has to do with her possibly getting out of jail early. But why does Aunt Grace have this?

  More importantly, why is she buying me expensive flip-flo
ps when she has this to worry about? I had no clue she was in this much debt, and all because of Mom. I can’t believe I’m running around worried about a time capsule when I should be working a job and giving Aunt Grace money toward this and whatever other bills she’s paying.

  In the distance, I hear a motor and glance through the serving window to see Aunt Grace’s Thing coming back down the coastal road. Quickly, I put the envelope back. I don’t want her to know I was snooping, and I need to figure out the best way to bring the whole thing up.

  She parks and gets out, and I hold my breath as I wait for her to come inside.

  Aunt Grace steps through the back door, handing me my phone. “Consider it taken care of.”

  “What happened?”

  She straightens her skirt, taking a second to retie the side of it. “I went to their home first and no one was there. Then I went to The Pit. Both boys were working out and I found their uncle in the office. Apparently, the parents are on vacation.”

  “Yeah, I forgot to tell you that.”

  “Anyway, I told the uncle in no uncertain terms that if Vail so much as looks in your direction again, I am filing a restraining order.”

  My eyes go wide. “Really?”

  She points at me. “You, young lady, are never to step foot in The Pit again.”

  “Got it.” I nod. “I promise. Did he admit to doing everything?”

  “Everything but the stuffed toy, but I don’t believe him. It doesn’t matter because I delivered my message, and it was received. Loud and clear. He won’t be bothering you again.”

  I breathe out. “Thank you, Aunt Grace.”

  A couple comes up to the window and while my aunt washes her hands, I wait on the man and woman. I should’ve told Aunt Grace about all of this sooner. I forget how awesome she is.

  She dries her hands and takes over with the couple. “I really don’t want you wandering the island today.”

  “Am I grounded?” She’s never done that before, so I’m not quite sure.

  “No, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just want peace of mind you’re safe.”