Arts and Thefts

by Allison K. Hymas

  A lot. I needed more than the paint. I needed Quinn to make a mistake. I’d dealt with Lee, and he was a snotty little nut but a tough nut. He wouldn’t break; he was too full of himself for that. But if Becca saw innocence in Quinn, maybe I could break her. Then she’d make a mistake, do something she shouldn’t, and I would be there.

  It took some quick thinking, but I came up with a plan. I waited until the girls were turned away from me, and then I ran.

  I hurtled full-speed toward them like a six-year-old on his first two-wheeler. “Stop!” I shouted. “Stop!”

  People froze as I raced past them. I paid no attention. The Eccles girls glanced back at me, and I looked at them, though I pretended to focus on a target past them. As I passed the girls, I raised one arm, like I was reaching for someone.

  My arm just happened to hook Quinn’s purse, tearing it out of her grip as I ran past.

  “Hey! Wait!” Quinn yelled.

  “Come back!” I called at nobody. When I heard the sound of footsteps racing after me, it became hard not to smile.

  A glance over my shoulder informed me that Quinn and her sister were both in pursuit. My gambit had worked. Now to end this charade before too many people got interested.

  I detoured, veering into a grassy area of the park. No art, and therefore fewer people. “Stop!” I called again weakly, and then slowed. Placing my hands on my knees, I visibly caught my breath.

  “Hey! You!” The girls reached me. Larissa’s eyes widened with recognition when she saw my face, but Quinn just looked angry. “That’s my bag.”

  “What?” I looked at the purse hanging from my arm like I’d just noticed it was there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice. Here.”

  I slid the purse from my arm and held it out to Quinn. She reached for it, but just before her fingers made contact, I dropped it, letting it fall top-down onto the grass. The bag had been open, and several items spilled out.

  “My bad,” I said. I squatted, as did Quinn, and we started picking up the stuff. I grabbed the purse itself, letting everything else fall out. I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m just flustered. It’s been a . . . long day.”

  Quinn sighed. “I guess I understand.” We turned back to the items on the ground.

  There it was, among the grass. A little tube of black paint. I picked it up and looked at it. Quinn snatched it from my hand and stuffed it into her bag with all her other gear.

  “Paint, huh? Going to be working on a new project while you’re here?” I asked.

  Smiling at me, Quinn said, “It’s actually for a friend.”

  Sure it was. If people are going to constantly lie to me, why can’t they be more creative about it?

  But Becca would buy that story, because Quinn exuded “innocence.” I could see how Scottsville Middle’s best detective could be fooled; Quinn had a wholesome look and bright eyes. She didn’t seem guarded or shady. I needed more. Good thing I had a plan.

  Conning is a complex business when you put it into practice, but at its heart, it’s all about either offering the mark something they want more than anything, or threatening them with something they’ll do anything to avoid. The most effective cons do both, making the mark hand over what you want because they think it’s in their best interest. I wanted Quinn to make a mistake. She would do that if she was overly confident, or if she was scared. Since confident criminals weren’t messing up today, I decided to go for scared.

  “You’re Casey’s friend,” Larissa said as Quinn and I stood up. “Jeremy, right?”

  “That’s me.”

  I was still breathing heavily, even though I had long since caught my breath. Why? I couldn’t just volunteer what I was “doing.” I needed them to ask.

  Quinn’s smile morphed into something more quizzical. “I know you.”

  I hate it when someone I don’t know says that. It’s usually followed with “You’re that thief.”

  “You’re that thief Becca Mills is always chasing.”

  What did I tell you? “Retrieval specialist, actually,” I said, holding out a hand. “Jeremy Wilderson.”

  Quinn slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and shook my hand. “Quinn Eccles. And I don’t know, you seem more like a thief to me.”

  The words didn’t sound angry, but Larissa touched Quinn’s arm. “Leave him alone. It was an accident. I’m sure he didn’t mean to grab your bag.”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “I was just in a hurry to catch the saboteur.”

  Quinn tilted her head. “You’re trying to catch the saboteur?”

  That’s right. Walk into my trap.

  “See? He’s one of the good guys. Like Robin Hood.” Larissa smiled at me. I grinned back. Robin Hood, huh? I could get used to that.

  “Yep. Normally I wouldn’t get involved in a case like this, but my friend is a competitor. I’m sure you know how it is; I get very protective of my friends.” I smiled, watching Quinn. She nodded and smiled gently, giving nothing away. Larissa nodded too.

  “Think you’re getting close to catching this person?” Quinn said.

  Time to up the ante, whatever that means. “Very close. I think I have a suspect.”

  Both Quinn’s and Larissa’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” Quinn said.

  “I noticed a guy hanging around the site of the second sabotage. I couldn’t see his face, but he was short, with light hair. Wearing a gray vest.” If Quinn was working with Lee, her mind would instantly jump to the guilty party. “Anyway, I just saw him again,” I continued, “so I called out and went after him. He ran off. I was in such a hurry to catch him, I didn’t realize I’d grabbed your purse. It was an accident.”

  Quinn straightened her purse strap. “Way to go. I guess you are as heroic as Larissa says.” She gave me a sunny smile as I tried on the word “heroic” for size. It fit well.

  Larissa frowned. “Your description sounds like Lee.” Quinn shook her head. “Can’t be. We were just with him.”

  “I wasn’t,” Larissa said.

  “Right.” Quinn nodded. “That must have been when you ran into your friend from soccer camp. Lee came by and we talked.”

  This was interesting. “Who’s Lee, and how long ago was this?” I asked.

  “Lee’s our neighbor,” Quinn said. “He goes to Burdick Charter. But I don’t think your suspect could have been the same person. I saw him about half an hour ago, maybe less, and he said he was going back to the tent.”

  About the same time as Diana’s sabotage. That wasn’t the only thing that smelled funny about Quinn’s words. It was also a little too convenient that Larissa had happened to miss seeing Lee, almost like Quinn was providing an alibi for Lee, the way a partner in crime might.

  My plan wasn’t working like I needed it to. I had to layer on a little more threat. “Can I trust you two?” I said in a low voice.

  The Eccles sisters nodded, and I leaned in close. “I may need your help. If you see Lee, let me know. I want to ask him some questions. Here’s my number.” I rattled off Mom’s cell number. “And if you see him talking to anyone in a suspicious way, let me know. You see”—I looked around, as though worried someone would hear me—“I think we’re dealing with two saboteurs.”

  “No!” Quinn looked horrified while Larissa’s eyes just widened. Well, that was telling. Way to give me the reaction I was looking for, Quinn Eccles. Thank you, sincerely, for looking scared.

  “Yes. Two saboteurs, working together. If I can get one, I can get the other.” I leaned back and put my hands in my pockets.

  Quinn had risen to my bait but not enough. I needed to give her a sense of urgency, a reason to do something stupid. I looked back and saw the roof of the help office beyond the crowd. Perfect.

  “Of course,” I said, “I might not need to do anything.”

  “Why not?” Larissa asked.

  I pointed. “Right over there is the help office, where Scottsville’s best detective is going over both paintings with a fine-bristled brush, so
to speak. Yep, Becca Mills’s mother is here. Not to mention that the park security is so thick, any evidence, and I mean any evidence, in that building will be found.” I smiled and shrugged. “It’s just a matter of time. Who knows what will turn up in the sweep?”

  Quinn nodded. “We’ll definitely let you know if we see anything. Count on us.” Larissa was quiet, looking at the building, but she caught my eye and nodded, wearing a bright smile.

  “Great. And I’ll try not to scoop up your property again.”

  “Come on,” Larissa said, pulling on Quinn’s arm. “Let’s go get one of those snow cones.”

  “Ooh! I hope they have orange. Blue raspberry stains my teeth.” Quinn flashed me a smile. Was it possible she was smiling too much?

  I smiled back and watched as the sisters left. Well, that was interesting. My seed had been planted; now I had to wait and watch for Quinn to make a mistake. Maybe she’d talk to Lee, tell him that there were too many people involved now and they should stop. Or maybe she’d try to salvage the job by trying to take evidence from under the cops’ noses. That wouldn’t go well for her.

  She’d do something now; I could feel it. But I had to get back to the help office and figure out a way inside, and at some point I’d have to find Case and Hack—

  “J! Back in the lumberjack costume? I guess that means you managed to ditch the snitch?”

  Or they could find me. I spun around. Case and Hack approached me, snow cones in hand. My stomach lurched. Now was my chance to get information, but I didn’t know how to keep them from suspecting my involvement with the job.

  “Hey, guys. Not hungry for that,” I said, pointing to their snow cones. They were about to ask. But I would have to stop by the tent and get some real lunch soon. No good trying to be sneaky when your stomach is rumbling. Also, I might be able to find out if Lee really had gone back to the tent. That would be good evidence for Becca.

  “Snow cones are less food and more of a drink,” Hack said. His lips were stained green. It looked odd under his red hair. Kind of like a reverse carrot.

  “Then why do I get even thirstier when I have one?” Case said. He sounded more cheerful. The warm summer air and a little high-fructose corn syrup did him good. That, and the job he thought we all had. “Becca leave you alone, or did you escape?”

  “I think she’s got other things to deal with besides me.” I caught myself changing my weight from foot to foot, and stopped. As much as I would have loved to track the saboteurs down with my friends, I couldn’t. Becca was waiting for me to find, break into, and retrieve from a building guarded by park security and her mother, and I still had no idea how I was going to do that.

  But you know me. I like a challenge.

  “Oh, right. The sabotage. Of course she’d start tracking that scent.” Case looked into his snow cone like it was a crystal ball. I guess it was, being a ball of ice, but you know what I mean.

  He looked uncomfortable, and as Hack shook his head at me, I regretted bringing the subject up. But since it was, I felt freer to talk about it.

  “Look, about this saboteur thing—”

  Case raised a hand. “Stop. It’s okay; we know you can’t give this job your full attention. You’re too busy running from Becca.”

  “But don’t worry. We’ve got it!” Hack aid.

  “Why else would we skip lunch?” Case asked. “We’ll take care of the big stuff, and you can help out when you can.”

  “If you get involved, Becca might think you two are the saboteurs,” I warned them. “Maybe you should back off and let her handle it. She’s good at what she does.”

  Case folded his arms. “What, you don’t think we can handle this?”

  It was like the Mark job all over again. “Of course I think you can.”

  “Besides,” Hack said, “if she’s so good at her job, why is she still chasing you? She doesn’t actually believe you did it, does she?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think so. She thinks I’m a thief and don’t have the ambition for sabotage.”

  “Which you do.”

  “The ambition, sure. But sabotage isn’t my style.”

  “Then why is she still chasing you?”

  I smiled. “Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly. Anyway, you guys keep telling me I’m insane for working in Becca’s jurisdiction. I’m just thinking that it might be safer for all of us if we all concentrate on protecting Case’s painting and staying out of Becca’s way.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to do,” Case said. He walked over to a tree and leaned against it. It was like my words were sapping the strength Hack must have worked hard to bring back. “Protect my art and the art of everyone else here. You can help us, or you can sit in the tent, hiding from Becca. What sounds like more fun?”

  Dang it. They were really serious about this, and to be fair, they had a good reason to be. Case could be the next to fall. Maybe if they were busy tracking down the saboteurs, they’d be out of Becca’s way.

  Besides, I did want to spend time with them. Playing both sides might be the only way to please everyone.

  I was going to regret this later, I just knew it.

  “Okay, I’ll help. But like you said, I can’t commit a lot of time to this job,” I said. “Not when I have to run at any moment.”

  Case nodded. “We know. But we’d like to hear your thoughts.”

  “Well, I got a smear of the paint. It’s weird.” I explained how the paint was stretchy and rubbery.

  Case bit his thumb. “I know a few paints like that. What I wouldn’t give for a sample . . . .”

  “Detective Mills Senior is on the case.”

  Hack paled and Case stomped a foot. “Way to ruin my day, J.”

  “I’ll try to make it up to you,” I said. “But I have a question. Why would the saboteur target Diana and Justin first?”

  Case nodded again. “That was our first question too. Turns out Diana and Justin were favorites to win Best Overall. Whoever’s doing this is targeting the judges’ favorites.”

  “How’d you know Diana and Justin were favorites?”

  “Hack told me.”

  “And how’d he know?”

  After a few seconds of calculating silence, we both turned to Hack. He waved his almost-empty paper cone, flinging green drops at us. “What? Is it my fault if the judges e-mail their opinions back and forth on an unse-cured network?”

  “I thought you gave that phone back to its owner,” Case said.

  I had a different kind of confusion. “Since when can you hack e-mails from a mobile device?”

  “Case, the owner of this phone was so freaked that he could be the next to get sabotaged that he graciously told me I can keep the phone as long as I need it. I’ll give it back. And J, school is a wonderful, educational time. Especially when you’re banned from the computer lab for a month.”

  I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay, you’ve leveled up. Congratulations, and watch out for the boss fight.”

  Hack shrugged. “I got those down. Always aim for the eye. J, want the number for this phone? You might need it later if Becca keeps chasing you.”

  “Sure,” I said, and a moment later Mom’s phone buzzed with a new text. “Thanks. But still. Diana told me that the judges hadn’t seen her painting yet. How could she be a favorite if they hadn’t judged her work?”

  “The judges have pictures of the art,” Hack said. “Like a guidebook. Just small photos the contestants sent in with their submissions. Enough to give an impression but not enough to fully judge. They’re basing their favorites on those. You should hear the chatter about which ones they’re most excited to see.”

  I turned to Case. “Who are the other favorites? Are you one of them?”

  Case laughed. “No.”

  “Really?” Relief washed through me.

  He shrugged. “I’m not surprised. I mean, it’s my first year. I’m not that good yet, and the judges tend to choose older kids who’ve done this a few times. Giving m
e Best Overall would be as weird as, well, you spending quality time with Becca Mills.”

  Right. Weird. I swallowed and said, “I’m not convinced you’re not a favorite. You’re sure you’re not on the list?”

  “Not according to Hack.”

  “Let’s see,” Hack said, cutting in. “Diana was a favorite for the paintings, as was Justin. Some kid named Henry is a favorite for photography—”

  “What about sculpture?” I asked.

  “Top pick is Sandra Lynn. You should see her work. Case was in awe.”

  Sandra Lynn. The girl who made that intricate wax statue. “I saw it earlier.” Perfect. I had a hit list, and neither Quinn nor Lee was on it. This was motive. I was thinking like Becca.

  Man, I hoped that wasn’t permanent.

  “Who are the second placers?” No one at the back of the pack would risk sabotage when it wouldn’t get them the win anyway. From my experience, the scariest people are those who are half a point away from the coveted A grade. People in second or third place were more likely to be our crooks.

  “That twerp Lee Moffat. I can’t think of anyone who deserves it less,” Hack said. “Have you seen how he talks to his friend?”

  “Oh yeah.” But Lee was a sculptor. “What about the painters? The paintings were attacked first.”

  “We wondered about that too,” Case said. “Why the paintings first?”

  “Easy targets?” I asked.

  Hack played with his glasses. “The judges have a lot of favorites in paintings. Maybe the saboteur thought his greatest competition would come from there.”

  Maybe. Or maybe at least one of the saboteurs is a painter. But is it Quinn or someone else? “The judges are talking a lot about the paintings, but you don’t know who the next heads on the chopping block might be?”

  Hack shrugged. “They haven’t said yet.”

  But I didn’t miss his eyes and his meaningful glance at Case, who had gotten syrup on his glove and was trying to lick it off. It’s Case, I could almost hear Hack saying. Case is one of the top picks. But if you value your sanity, don’t tell him.

  Case. Case was up there, behind Diana and Justin. I didn’t know how high, but high enough for Hack to worry. Now, before you go all Becca Mills on me, Case would never sabotage anyone. I know my best friend. He would rather die than win on anything other than pure merit. If he’s not the best artist, he’ll take the second place and try again. He’ll forge and cheat when it’s for other people, but when it’s for himself, Case is the epitome of integrity. Which is probably why every teacher at Scottsville loves him so much.