To Catch a Cheat

by Varian Johnson

  The old black corded phone on the desk rang.

  Serena stared at the phone for a few seconds, each ring seemingly sharper than the one before it. She didn’t recognize the phone number on the display or its 215 area code, but she picked it up anyway.

  “Hello, this is Alex from the KRX Call Center. May I speak with Mr. Josephat James?”

  Josephat? What kind of name is that? Serena wondered. “I’m sorry, but he isn’t here.”

  “Then may I speak with Eugene Kelsey?”

  “Also not here.”

  “Hm … I see.” There was the clacking of a keyboard on the other end of the phone. “And I’m speaking to whom?”

  Serena gave him her name.

  “Serena. Pretty name.” He paused. “I don’t see your name on the account….”

  “I’m a student,” she said, winding the cord around her fingers. “Are you calling about the security system? Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing to worry about. We just had to reboot the NVR and the cameras when we uploaded the new password to the mainframe.”

  “I thought that was supposed to happen yesterday.”

  “Sorry — we got backed up,” he replied. “Are you monitoring the system now? Does everything seem to be running correctly?”

  She looked at the screen. “Some of the cameras seem to have a different hue. And a few look a bit pixelated.”

  “I’d be happy to run a diagnostic,” he said. “However, I’ll have to take the cameras off-line again —”

  “No, don’t do that,” she said. “It’s fine.” She paused for a second, then asked, “Since I’ve got you on the phone, can you see if anyone else is logged onto the system?”

  “Sure,” the tech said, with more clicks in the background. “Can you provide your login and passcode?”

  Serena coughed. “I don’t know … I don’t have access to …”

  “I’m sorry,” he replied. “We take security very seriously at KRX. I can’t run any checks on the system without proper verification.”

  That’s actually pretty smart, she thought. “That’s okay,” she said. “Could you leave your name and phone number? I’ll have Mr. James call you back.”

  He stated his name — Alex Westing — and gave her his phone number. It was the same number that had popped up on the display. Then he rattled off two more series of numbers — his ID and the case number for the call.

  “Anything else I can help you with?” he asked.

  Serena settled into the chair. “No thank you,” she said.

  “Well, if you don’t mind, would you consider taking a survey to rate our service?”

  “I don’t think —”

  “We’ll throw in a free sixty-day trial of one of our handheld monitoring devices.”

  Serena leaned back. “There must be a catch.”

  “No catch. If you don’t like the device, just return it before the end of the trial period. We won’t bill you until afterward.”

  Serena figured she probably didn’t have the authority to take the survey. But she wanted that device.

  “How long will it take?” she asked.

  “Ten minutes, tops,” he said.

  “That long?”

  “They make you work for it,” he said. “So come on. What do you say?”

  She looked at the clock ticking away in the corner of the computer monitor. Ten minutes for a handheld monitoring device? That was a deal definitely worth taking.

  Rob sat between Thom and Hashemi in the newsroom. The laptop screen displayed all sixteen of the security cameras, and so far, no one had come close to heading their way. Megan sat across from him, her eyes glued to her phone, her fingernails tapping against the table. Rob could never figure out why a girl as pretty as Megan hung out with a geek like Hashemi. She had even quit the cheerleading squad to spend more time with him — to build a stupid robot. That was like cashing in a winning lottery ticket for a pocketful of rusted pennies.

  “How’s it going down there?” Bradley asked. Rob jumped. He was still getting used to the earpiece.

  “Still waiting,” Jackson said. He remained against the doorjamb, and was much too calm and cool for Rob’s liking.

  “Want me to come down?” Bradley asked.

  Jackson leaned out of the door, peered down the hallway toward Mrs. Clark’s room, then shook his head. “No. I need you to stay by that frame. We’re going to have to move quickly if Serena doesn’t fall for the survey.” He turned to Hashemi. “Let us know as soon as you see her head pop out of that door.”

  Hashemi nodded. “Understood.”

  “Why are we wasting so much time?” Rob asked. “We could have already been in and out by now.”

  “As much as I hate admitting it, you’re probably right,” Jackson said. “But too much time has passed at this point. Now we’re stuck waiting.”

  “This is a trick, isn’t it?” Rob popped his knuckles. “You want Serena to catch us, don’t you?”

  Jackson groaned. “Do you even listen to the words coming out of your mouth? That makes no sense. Of course I don’t want Serena to catch us,” he said. “You think Kelsey has it bad for you? Try walking in my shoes.”

  Hashemi pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “We have lost a lot of time, Jackson.”

  “I know, I know.” Jackson glanced down the hallway. “Bradley’s getting a bit keyed up. If we don’t —”

  “Qapla’!” Megan yelled, jumping up from the table.

  Thom and Rob stood as well. “What is it?” Thom asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s just speaking Klingon,” Hashemi said. “It means ‘success.’ ”

  “Serena took the bait — she’s taking the survey,” Megan said. “Also, Samuel says that you owe him five bucks, Jackson.” She frowned at the screen for a second before breaking into a grin. “He also said you can keep the money if you admit you’re scared to kiss —”

  “Okay, let’s go,” Jackson said, slapping his hands together and pushing off the doorjamb. “We don’t want to waste time.”

  Bradley entered the newsroom. “So now what?” he asked.

  “Now Rob and Thom go steal the test,” Jackson said. He took the keys from Bradley, then tossed them to Rob. “You two wanted to tag along to get the test so badly … Now’s your chance.”

  Rob puffed out his chest. “Come on, Thom.”

  “Remember, get in and get out,” Jackson said as Rob and Thom walked toward the door. “We’ve got less than ten minutes.”

  Rob waved his arm dismissively as they entered the hallway. Thom opened his mouth to speak, but Rob shook his head. He pointed to the microphone clipped underneath his collar. Those idiots are still listening in, he mouthed.

  Thom nodded and smiled. Idiots, he mouthed back.

  Rob opened the door to Mrs. Clark’s room and made a beeline for the file cabinet. He was just unlocking it when he heard someone approaching. He spun around to see Bradley entering the room.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I wanted to make sure you didn’t need help.”

  “We can handle this, kid,” Rob said. He hated cocky sixth graders like Bradley. Sixth graders weren’t supposed to be popular. They were supposed to wait their turn like everyone else. But by having a few of the right friends — namely, Jackson Greene — Bradley had shot up the social food chain.

  Rob and Thom finally found the test. “Thom, grab your phone and take a picture of it.”

  “I don’t have my phone,” Thom replied. “I left it in my bag.”

  “Me too,” Rob said. Jackson had ordered everyone to remove anything nonessential from their pockets before their sprint down the hallway. They’d left their personal phones, their pencils — everything — in their book bags, which were back in the gym.

  Bradley took a step forward and pulled a pen from his pocket. “Here, use this —”

  “Like I said, we’ve got it,” Rob snapped. He grabbed one of Mrs. Clark’s test p
ens and a loose sheet of printer paper from the file cabinet. “Don’t take it personally, kid,” he said. “But we don’t trust you.”

  “Fine. Just hurry,” Bradley said. “Serena won’t be taking that survey forever.”

  Rob nudged Thom. “You call out the answers. I’ll write.”

  Once they compiled the answers and double-checked them, Rob and Thom tossed the keys to Bradley and exited the room.

  Jackson was standing in the hall. “Did you get it?” he asked, his hand tightly curled around the PVC stand outside of Mrs. Clark’s room. “Are you sure it was the right test? There are a lot of papers in that file cabinet.”

  Rob waved the paper and grinned. “Does the high-and-mighty Jackson Greene want to see the answers?”

  “No thanks,” Jackson said, turning away.

  “So now what?” Rob asked. “How are you going to remove the tablets and stands? Serena’s going to know something’s up if we turn off the cameras again.”

  Jackson smiled. “Exactly.”

  Serena had just finished question eight of the incredibly long survey when the cameras died again.

  “Are you guys still working on our system?” she asked the technician. “The cameras blacked out.”

  “That’s odd,” he said. “Let me check —”

  The line went silent.

  Serena tapped a few buttons, hoping that she’d been placed on hold. But when she heard the dial tone, she quickly punched in the phone number the technician had left her.

  “Hello, you’ve reached the cell phone of Alex Westing. If you’re calling in reference to apartment 3D in Sunset Towers, please ring me on my office phone at —”

  Serena hung up.

  It had to be Jackson.

  She scooped the keys from the desk and rushed out of the room. As she jogged toward the social studies wing, she speed-dialed Mr. James. Her sister had teased her about saving his number in her phone that morning, but now she was glad she’d done it. “Mr. James, can you meet me in the newsroom?” she asked.

  “Serena? Is that you? What’s wrong?”

  “The cameras are off. It’s Jackson. He’s in the newsroom. Or at least, he’s supposed to be there. That’s where I last saw him.”

  “Be there in a second,” he said.

  She ended the call and picked up her pace. Instead of knocking on the door to the newsroom, she barged right in. Jackson and Bradley sat at a large table covered with laptops and newspaper layouts. In the corner, Hashemi held up a tablet and was recording Megan talking in front of a blank wall. Rob and Thom stood by the window, whispering to each other.

  “Hi, Serena.” Jackson rose from a table and tucked his pencil behind his ear. “What brings you here?”

  “You’re up to something,” she said. “Admit it.”

  “Up to what?” He straightened his tie. “We’re finalizing the story about the game.”

  Serena crossed her arms. “But the game isn’t over.”

  Megan motioned for Hashemi to stop recording. “Clearly you didn’t see the score. And thanks for barging in and messing up my video.”

  “Where’s Charlie?” Serena asked. “He’s the editor, right? Isn’t he supposed to be here?”

  “I think he went to see Gaby play,” Jackson said. “Which is where I should be.”

  Mr. James entered the room. “What’s the problem here?”

  “They’re up to something,” Serena said. “I know it.” She leaned close to Mr. James and covered her mouth. “Maybe we should check Mrs. Clark’s room.”

  “Already did. It’s locked up tight,” he said. Then he looked at the others. “There sure are a lot of you in here. Where’s your advisor?”

  “Mr. Portillo couldn’t stay after school, but he said we could meet without him,” Bradley said. “You can ask him yourself.”

  Serena frowned at Rob and Thom as they walked toward her. “When did you two join the newspaper staff?”

  “Yesterday,” Rob mumbled.

  Jackson slapped him on the back, and Rob jerked forward. “Membership drive. We’re thinking about adding a video component to the newspaper.”

  Mr. James rubbed his chin. “Mr. Gonzales let you out of the gym?”

  Jackson nodded. “We have passes and everything. Want to see them?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t think —”

  “Mr. James!” Serena said.

  “No, I don’t need to see them,” he continued. “But I think y’all should head on home. The story can wait until tomorrow.”

  While Jackson, Megan, Bradley, and Hashemi cleaned off the table and packed up their bags, Rob and Thom shot out of the room.

  “It’s impossible to get good help nowadays,” Jackson said.

  Serena and Mr. James followed Jackson and the crew into the hallway. Jackson locked the office door, then slipped the key into his pocket. “Don’t worry, it’s Charlie’s key. He let me borrow it.”

  As Jackson and the others walked toward the exit, Serena looked up at the video camera aimed at the newsroom. The light was on — it was working again. Then she noticed the recycling bin sitting directly underneath it. She lifted the lid.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  Jackson paused only for a second before continuing to walk.

  “Jackson! I’m talking to you —”

  “It’s PVC pipe,” Mr. James said. “Probably for some class exercise.”

  “But they just emptied the bins,” she said. “I saw them wheeling in new ones this afternoon.”

  “Serena, it’s time to go,” Mr. James said. He placed his hand on her shoulder, softly but firmly. “Come on and collect your books.”

  As they returned to the security room, Serena tried to explain everything that had happened. “I promise, Mr. James, the cameras went off. Twice. And I was talking to some guy from KRX, except I don’t think he was really from the security company —”

  “Serena, you’ve been a big help. Honestly, I mean that.” Mr. James unlocked the door. “But maybe you’ve watched enough video feeds this week. All that staring at the monitor and such can’t be good for the brain, you know.”

  Even though she could tell Mr. James wasn’t happy, he was smiling. It was pained, but it was a smile.

  Serena picked up her book bag. “Look at the video. The cameras were off-line.”

  “I will. Tomorrow.” He guided her toward the door. “Good night, Serena. And thanks again for helping out.”

  “Promise you’ll check —”

  Serena stopped. There was no use in talking to a closed door.

  Charlie was waiting for the crew when they reached Hashemi’s shed. “Did you finish the story?” he asked. “We print tomorrow morning.”

  “The story was done before the game even started,” Jackson said. “Though after today, I think I’m out of the news business.”

  Charlie picked up a brown cardboard box. “Me and my back say you got the good end of the deal.”

  They entered the shed, then Charlie placed the box on the worktable. “One Pikachu, as promised.”

  “And the MATE?” Hashemi asked.

  “Worked like a charm,” he said. “No issues shutting off the cameras and sneaking in.” Charlie sat down. “You know, for projects that are always in progress, your inventions usually work pretty well.”

  Megan opened her laptop. “Haven’t you guys realized — a beta device for Hashemi is like a third-generation device for normal people?” She logged onto her machine. “Except when it comes to the RhinoBot.”

  “I’ll get that ram to work! Eventually.”

  “Simmer down, Hash. She’s joking.” Jackson frowned as he studied Megan. “I think.”

  “Where’s Gaby?” Bradley asked.

  “She’ll be here soon,” Charlie said. “Mom took her to dinner. The girls won by eight points. Gaby had a double-double.”

  “I really wish I’d been at that game,” Jackson said.

  “Mom taped it, since Dad wasn’t able to ma
ke it either,” Charlie said. “He’s going to watch it this weekend. Mom said you’re welcome to come over and watch it with him.”

  “I’ll, um, keep that in mind.” Jackson loosened his tie. “Okay, we have some time to kill before Victor gets here. Let’s not waste it.”

  Most of the crew settled around the worktable and studied for their American history exam. Bradley worked on an assignment for math class. Megan tinkered with her hacking program.

  An hour later, there was a knock on the door. “It’s me,” Victor called from outside. “Let us in.”

  Jackson looked at the others, then closed his textbook. “It’s unlocked.”

  Victor entered the shed, followed by Rob and Thom. Hashemi had redecorated in the four months since he’d last been here, Victor noticed. But he still had those stupid Star Trek dolls all over the place.

  “You brought company,” Jackson said. “Did you also bring the hard drive?”

  “Nice try, Jackson.” Victor turned to Bradley. “The next time you create a disappearing ink, make sure it lasts longer than an hour.”

  Jackson pursed his lips together and glanced at Bradley. “An hour?”

  Bradley shrugged. “I didn’t expect them to write the answers on paper. I thought they’d write on their skin.”

  “It was a smart plan,” Victor continued. “A nice countermove. When did you replace the pens in Mrs. Clark’s file cabinet? Last week?”

  Jackson cracked a smile. “I wish I could claim we swapped out the pens that far in advance, but honestly, we replaced them a few minutes before Rob and Thom went in.”

  “When?” Thom said. “You were with us.”

  “But I wasn’t,” Bradley said.

  Thom shook his head. “Jackson was talking to you the entire time. He was looking at you while he talked to you.”

  “Are you sure I was looking at Bradley when I was leaning out the doorway? Or was I checking to see if he’d already snuck into Mrs. Clark’s room?”

  “So what are you proposing? A trade?” Victor asked. “I know you have a copy of the answers.”

  Bradley nodded. “I wrote them down when I returned the regular pens to the file cabinet, after Rob and Thom left the room.”

  “Great. Hand them over,” Thom said.