“The problem is, I don’t trust Jackson Greene. The battery will fail, or it’ll blow up or something — there’s no way he’s going to let us walk into that exam with the answers.”
Kayla studied a port on the side of the watch face, then began looking through her drawers. She finally pulled out a small cable. “If Megan and Hashemi have hidden something in there, I’ll find it,” she said. “But just to be clear, this will cost extra.”
Victor grunted as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “And you say the Insta-Alert is overpriced….”
On Thursday afternoon, Mr. James zipped around the school in his golf cart and sped toward the back of the building. In the fourteen years that he’d been working at Maplewood, it had become a tradition for him to see off the athletic teams when they had away games. And even though he was supposed to be monitoring the front exits, there was no way he was going to tempt fate by skipping the send-off. This game was too important.
“Glad you’re still here. I was worried that I’d miss you,” he said to Coach Rainey as he pulled up between her and the yellow school bus. The girls’ basketball team was already streaming out of the gym, their shoulders weighed down with bags and other equipment. “Dr. Kelsey should be on his way to Riggins by now.”
“Don’t remind me,” she said. “Honestly, I have no idea why he thinks the superintendent will be there. I would ask him, but that would require talking to him.”
Mr. James had always liked Coach Rainey. They had started on the same day fourteen years ago. Her, a baby-faced recent college graduate. Him, a seasoned mall security guard working on a second career. He stepped out of his golf cart. “Are the girls ready?”
“They’ve been excited about this game all season. Especially Gaby.” She looked at her watch. “Okay, let’s load up.” She gave Mr. James a high five, then stepped on the bus.
While a few girls waved at Mr. James as they passed by, Lynne Thurber and Gaby de la Cruz stopped right in front of him. “What do you think, Mr. James?” Lynne said. “Maybe if we win the championship, they’ll finally upgrade our uniforms and gym bags.”
“I’m sure Dr. Kelsey will keep that under advisement,” he said.
She dropped her shoulder bag, creating a small dust storm. “Sorry about that,” Lynne said. “I spilled a container of talcum all over me and Gaby’s stuff. I thought I got it all off. I guess not.” Lynne patted down her warm-up jacket, covering her hands in even more powder. “Where’s my … Oh, never mind. It’s not important.” Then she high-fived Mr. James. “Sorry,” she said as he waved powder away from his face.
Before he could respond, Gaby slapped his hand twice, hard enough to make his palm sting. She seemed to be covered in just as much talcum as Lynne.
“Wow, that stuff really gets all over the place,” he said.
“Yeah, it’s really clingy. I guess we didn’t —” Gaby stopped and cocked her head. “Is that your phone?”
He frowned. “No, I don’t think so….”
“I heard it too,” Lynne said. “Are you sure?”
He unclipped his phone from his belt and glanced at it. “No calls.”
“I swore I heard something,” Gaby said. “Maybe it was a text message or an alert of some kind.”
Mr. James squinted at the phone as he pecked in his password with his index finger. Then he maneuvered the trackball to open first his text messages, then the security app. “No messages. No alerts.” He returned the phone to his belt clip.
“I guess I must be hearing things,” Lynne said. She turned to Gaby. “Where’s Charlie?”
“I don’t know,” Gaby said. “Maybe he forgot —”
“He has to come!” Lynne said. “He’s supposed to hug you before the game. It’s tradition.”
“Since when?” Mr. James pulled some sunflower seeds from the packet in his pocket. Jackson had seen the bus off more than Charlie had this season.
“It’s … a new tradition,” Gaby said. She looked around, and her gaze settled on Mr. James. “Um … Since he’s not here … Mr. James, I hope it’s okay if I …”
She was already moving toward him, her arms open to give him a hug. He found himself returning it. “Knock ’em dead, Gaby,” he said.
She pulled back and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Thanks. I guess I’m a bit more worried than —”
“There you are,” Charlie said as he ran from the gym toward the bus with something white in his hand. “I thought y’all were boarding in the front of the school.”
Why would he think that? Mr. James wondered. They always loaded up outside the gym.
Gaby met him halfway between the gym and the bus. Just as she reached him, Lynne yelled, “Ouch!”
Mr. James whipped his head toward her. “What’s wrong?”
Lynne rubbed her arm. “I think … I think I got bit by a mosquito or something.”
“In January? While you’re wearing a jacket and a turtleneck?”
She shrugged. “My mom says I have sweet blood.”
The bus driver honked the horn. “Hurry up, ladies!” Coach Rainey yelled. “We’ve got a game to play.”
Gaby dusted off her hands as she rushed back toward Lynne and Mr. James. “Everything okay?” Lynne asked.
Gaby grinned. “Yep. Let’s play ball.”
The rest of the crew was already huddled around a laptop when Charlie entered the newsroom. “Got it?” Jackson asked once the door closed behind him.
Charlie nodded. “Mr. James just started his security detail,” he said. “My guess is, we’ve got at least twenty minutes.”
“Good,” Jackson said. They had been watching Mr. James enough to know that he never used his phone while cruising around on his golf cart. “Can you hit the lights while you’re up?”
“But what about my program?” Megan asked. “Just let me try it. I’m sure I can hack the phone in a couple of hours. Certainly faster than Kayla the Cheat.”
“Megan, that’s great initiative, but we don’t have two hours,” Jackson said. “Bradley, grab that lamp from the box behind you.”
Megan crossed her arms. “But —”
“Come on, Megan,” Charlie said, sliding into the seat beside her. “You’re starting to sound like Hashemi.”
“You mean smart and passionate about technology?” Hashemi asked.
“Um, yeah. Exactly.” Charlie handed Mr. James’s phone, wrapped in a white handkerchief, to Bradley. “Let’s hope this powder works.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to at least try the program?” Megan asked, still looking at her laptop. “We don’t want to wear down the battery in the lamp.”
“Megan, I promise, we’ll use the program if this doesn’t work,” Jackson said. “Now, Bradley, if you don’t mind …”
Bradley unwrapped the phone, then slid it underneath the UV lamplight. Four heavy lime-green fingerprints illuminated the keyboard.
“Four numbers,” Megan said. “That’s … twenty-four possible permutations. My program should be able to blow through that in three minutes.”
Hashemi scooted a little to the left, outside of Megan’s reach, then said, “Or maybe we can try the numbers in order of heaviest fingerprint to lightest.” He pointed to the phone. “The order that Mr. James entered the PIN is fairly obvious.”
She narrowed her eyes at Hashemi. “Bruchon.”
“I’m not a traitor,” he said, pushing his glasses to his face. “And for your information, the battery in the lamp works just fine. It’s even strong enough to power a pneumatic battering ram.”
Bradley punched in the numbers. “Code accepted. I’ll pull up the security app.” He read out the password to the KRX Supreme while Megan and Hashemi typed it into their respective laptop and tablet.
“The MATE accepted the password,” Hashemi said.
“Same for me,” Megan said. “We’re in.”
“Perfect,” Jackson said. “Bradley, lights.”
While Bradley went to flip back on the l
ights, Charlie leaned over Megan’s shoulder. “Can you access the cameras?” he asked. “Just remember, don’t reposition them. If Dr. Kelsey is watching the video, he’ll know if you move —”
“Charlie, stop talking to me like I’m an idiot,” Megan said as she typed. A few seconds later, she said, “Serena’s sitting outside the security room.”
“And Rob and Thom?” Jackson asked.
“Already in the gym.”
“The Environmental Action Team will be moving those recycling bins into position in a few minutes.” Jackson switched off the lamp and placed it in the box. “You ready, Charlie?”
“How is it that I always get to be the one stuck in confined spaces?” Charlie stood and stretched. “The Pikachu better be as easy to remove as you said. I’m not going to have a lot of time.”
“It’ll work.” Jackson wiped down Mr. James’s phone, then handed it to Bradley. “Okay, you guys know the drill. Personal cell phones, pencils, wallets — store everything that isn’t essential in your book bag. Megan, text Rob and Thom and make sure they do the same. The last thing we need is someone’s cell phone skidding across the floor as we sprint through the atrium.”
Hashemi frowned. “Wait. What’s this about sprinting?”
Serena was sitting outside of the security room, trying not to stare at the time on her flip phone, when Mr. James finally entered the hallway. As she jumped to her feet, he said, “I’m sorry I’m late. I got a little behind schedule at the gym.”
“It’s okay,” she said, although she didn’t mean it.
He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Next time, give me a call and I’ll shoot right over.”
She waved her phone. “I did.”
He unlocked the door. “Hm … That’s funny. The girls said they thought my phone had rung. They said —” He stopped as his hand fumbled around the empty belt clip. “I’ll be … It seems that I’ve lost my phone.”
“When do you last remember using it?”
“Maybe twenty or twenty-five minutes ago. I was talking with Gaby and Lynne,” he said. “And then Charlie walked up and gave Gaby a hug and —”
“Mr. James! They stole your phone!”
“Nonsense. I would have noticed something like that.”
She was already shaking her head. “We should find Charlie. Search and interrogate him. I bet he still has the phone on him. Or do you know Coach Rainey’s phone number? Maybe Gaby took it with her.”
He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Or maybe we should retrace my steps and make sure I didn’t drop it in the parking lot.”
They drove back to the gym, which was already beginning to fill with students and parents. Even though the best game of the day was happening a few miles away at Riggins, there were still a few people interested in seeing the Maplewood Middle School boys’ team. Or rather, interested in seeing Riggins destroy the Maplewood Middle School boys’ team.
After Serena called Mr. James’s cell phone, they found it tucked underneath a juniper bush next to the sidewalk leading to the gym. Mr. James picked it up and inspected it. “Must have dropped it and somehow kicked it underneath this shrub.” He tapped his temple. “First rule of being a good detective — always check the easiest solution first.”
“That’s … convenient,” Serena said. She stepped off the sidewalk to allow a few parents to pass. “Please be careful with that phone, Mr. James. You can’t trust anyone.” She looked toward the gym, and for a second, she thought she saw Bradley Boardman standing in the doorway. But then a swarm of people entered the building, and he was gone.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’d better swing through the parking lot. Almost game time.”
“Why don’t you give me the keys? I’ll head back to the security room.”
“I thought you said I couldn’t trust anyone,” he said, a smile on his face.
“Mr. James …”
“Just kidding.” He dropped the keys into her palm. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the other side of the building?”
“No thanks. I want to check something first.”
She entered the gym, pushed past a few students, then flattened herself against the wall. Sure enough, Bradley sat in the stands, along with Jackson, Hashemi, Megan, Rob, and Thom.
But where was Charlie? And why wasn’t Victor with them? Maybe he wasn’t involved after all.
She quickly called Mr. James. “Is Charlie out there?” she asked after he answered the phone.
“Nope, don’t see him.”
“You’re sure?”
He chuckled. “I may be getting up in age, but I can remember what Charlie de la Cruz looks like.”
“Of course. Well, if you see him, can you let me know? Same with Victor Cho.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw Victor biking off after school. But I’ll call you if I see either of them.”
Serena returned to the security room. Once inside, she dropped the keys on the desk and settled into the worn seat, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt her back. The leather was hard and cracked, and tufts of white stuffing peppered the armrests.
After pulling up all the active cameras, she rotated the camera in the gym, centering it on Jackson’s crew. She looked through a few other camera feeds, but she didn’t see Charlie anywhere else in the building. Based on what Mr. James said, she knew he had been here after school. Either he’d left or he was out of view. Or maybe he was in Mrs. Clark’s room.
She quickly reviewed the video from the camera outside the newsroom, then did the same for the camera centered on Mrs. Clark’s door. Nothing out of the ordinary.
She spent most of the first half of the basketball game staring at Jackson on the computer screen, taking minimal note of everything else going on in the school. Most of the teachers had left, and the few who remained were either watching Maplewood get blown out by Riggins or serving on monitor duty. Other than a few members of the Environmental Action Team wheeling recycling bins down the hallways, the main building was empty. Students weren’t usually allowed in the school halls during a basketball game — not unless they had a pass, like the Environmental Action Team.
Or unless they were members of the Maplewood Herald staff.
About a minute before halftime, Jackson and his crew rose from their seats. They each flashed a pass at Mr. Gonzales and entered the atrium. They seemed to be walking slowly, joking and laughing with each step. The whole group stopped in the middle of the atrium, laughing so hard that Bradley doubled over.
Serena leaned forward and tried to zoom the camera as close in on them as possible.
Then the screen went dead.
“Lights out!” Although Charlie was whispering, his voice rang load and clear through everyone’s earpieces. “Move!”
Jackson and the crew took off toward the social studies wing. Charlie had rebooted the cameras, and they had forty-five seconds at most before they powered back on. Jackson could only hope that Serena wouldn’t decide to come looking for them.
Jackson slid to a stop at the recycling bin underneath the camera pointing toward the newsroom. Bradley ran past him toward the bin outside of Mrs. Clark’s room.
“What do you want me and Thom to do?” Rob asked.
Jackson yanked open the bin and pulled out a PVC tripod base and a telescoping PVC stand with a MATE mounted on top. “Shut up, sit in the newsroom, and stay out of the way.” His watch beeped. Thirty seconds left. “Megan, I need to know the instant those cameras are up.”
“Copy that,” she said as she ran into the newsroom. A few seconds later, she said, “Just got a text from Samuel. He’s in his dorm room and ready to make the call.”
Jackson looked down the hallway. “Bradley — update!”
“Getting there!” Bradley was having a little trouble breathing, but he didn’t dare stop to rest. He dropped to the ground, turned on his UV watch, then lined up his PVC tripod base with the fluorescent marks that Hashemi had made earlier that day. Once he was sure it was or
iented correctly, he slid the telescoping PVC stand into the base and extended it to its full eight feet. The MATE attached to the top of the pipe wobbled for a few seconds before settling into place. The security camera now pointed directly at the tablet.
Bradley looked up and saw that Jackson had also completed his frame, blocking the other camera with an identical MATE. He flashed Jackson a thumbs-up.
“Hash! Megan! We’re up,” Jackson said, still kneeling on the floor.
“Cueing the video playback now,” Hashemi replied.
“Outside cameras are restarting,” Megan said.
Jackson checked his watch. “Five seconds …”
“And … we’re live,” Megan said.
“Starting the video now,” Hashemi added.
Jackson crawled to the doorway to the newsroom, then leaned against the doorjamb. “And now, we wait.”
Serena spent the first few seconds after the cameras went dead tapping the keyboard. Then she checked the cables. The connection from the computer screen to the NVR looked solid, as did the connection from the cameras to the NVR. All the NVR lights were on, so whatever the problem was, it seemed to be with the cameras.
She was still fiddling with the cables when the screen came back to life. First the outside cameras powered on, followed by the ones inside the school. The resolution on some of the cameras wasn’t as sharp as before — a few looked blue-tinted — but at least they were up and running.
Then she watched as Jackson’s crew came onto the screen. They still seemed to be laughing as they filed into the newsroom and closed the door behind them.
She checked her watch. How many seconds had passed? Thirty? Forty-five? That wasn’t enough time for them to sneak into Mrs. Clark’s room and steal the test, was it? Or maybe they snuck into the main office instead — she was sure that the administrative assistants had copies of all the end-of-semester exams.
She rose from her chair. Maybe she should check things out, just to be on the safe side. Maybe —
To Catch a Cheat Page 14
