Case File 13 #3

by J. Scott Savage

  Nick pulled down his hood but left on his cap and sunglasses. “I rode halfway across the city trying to make sure no one recognized me. Where’s Carter?”

  “I haven’t seen him,” Angelo said. “You don’t think he got scared and decided not to come, do you?”

  “He’ll be here,” Nick said. Carter might have his faults, but he didn’t let his friends down.

  As they waited, Nick asked Angelo, “Have you thought of a plan?”

  Angelo fiddled with his backpack, which seemed more full than usual. “You mean a formal plan with dates, times, and directions? That kind of plan?”

  “Any kind of plan,” Nick said. “Even one that might not work.”

  Angelo shook his head. “No.”

  This was going to be a long day. In the distance, Nick noticed a little girl riding her bike toward the park. “Get down,” he said. “Someone’s coming.”

  He and Angelo pulled their bikes behind the tree and dropped into the grass. Nick wondered why a girl would be out riding her bike at this time of morning. She should be having breakfast and getting ready for school. She seemed to be having a difficult time keeping her bike balanced. It looked like it was too small for her. Under her pink dress, her knees pumped up and down. And with each turn of the pedals, the bike wobbled left and right.

  “What’s with her hair?” Angelo said. “It looks all white and stringy.”

  “Yeah,” Nick agreed. “It’s mean to say, but that might be the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen.” He kept waiting for the girl to turn into the driveway of one of the houses near the park. But she never did. “Look out,” he hissed. “She’s coming right toward us.”

  He buried his face in the grass, afraid to look up. He could hear the heavy breathing of someone getting closer. The tick, tick, tick of bike spokes grew louder until it finally stopped, right on top of them by the sound of it.

  “Are you two supposed to be hiding, or kissing the ground?” a voice asked.

  Nick raised his head just in time to see the ugly girl pull off a white wig, revealing black-and-white-striped hair beneath it. She yanked off her pink dress, unrolled the jeans that had been turned up to her knees, and flung the girls’ bike to the ground. “Stupid thing!”

  “Carter?” Nick burst out laughing. “What are you doing in a dress? And is that your little sister’s bike?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Carter grumbled, giving the bike a hard kick. “They had my house completely surrounded. It was the only way I could get out without them recognizing me.”

  Angelo beamed. “Brilliant! I’ve never seen such an amazing disguise in my life.”

  “Yeah, well, next time you try riding the bike of an eight-year-old girl a mile and a half up a hill. It stinks.” Carter tried to look angry, but couldn’t completely hide his smile. He picked up the stringy white wig. “My mom’s gonna kill me when she sees what I did to her mop.” He flopped to the ground and leaned against the trunk of the tree. “Please tell me one of you thought to bring food. I’m dying.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” Angelo said. He opened his pack and took out a bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups Miniatures and a six-pack of Mountain Dew.

  Carter moaned with delight and held out his hands. “Manna from heaven. Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

  Nick couldn’t help smiling as he watched Carter fill his mouth with chocolate and wash it down with soda. Even the worst of circumstances were a little more bearable when you were with friends.

  When Carter had finished his second can of Mountain Dew and at least fifteen miniatures, Angelo asked, “Have you given any thought to where Carter Junior might have gone?”

  Carter burped so loudly his cheeks ballooned out and nodded. “Yes. I thought about it all night, and the answer is . . . he wouldn’t.”

  “Huh?” Nick said.

  Angelo tapped his notebook impatiently. “What kind of answer is that?”

  “He wouldn’t have left,” Carter said. “If I was six inches tall and someone offered me free soda and candy, all the comic books I could read, and a comfortable room with no school or chores, I would never, ever leave. Period.”

  “But that’s you,” Angelo said. “We’re talking about a homunculus.”

  “A homunculus who could change into anyone, but spent most of his time as me,” Carter said. He crossed the first two fingers on his right hand. “We were like this. And I’m telling you, he wouldn’t have left.”

  Angelo shook his head, but Nick was beginning to understand. “Carter’s right. Carter Junior spent the most time around him, and some of that must have rubbed off. Carter would never leave that kind of situation.”

  “What are you saying?” Angelo asked.

  “I’m saying we were right the first time. Carter Junior didn’t run away. He was taken.”

  Angelo folded his arms and frowned. “You still think it was Angie?”

  “No,” Nick said. As easy as it would be to blame Angie, he didn’t think she or her friends would have done something like that. He looked down the hill into Mr. Dashner’s backyard and something occurred to him. “Do you guys remember when we were talking to Old Man Dashner and he said something about us sneaking through his yard two nights before?”

  “The only thing I remember is running for my life,” Carter said.

  But Angelo nodded. “I remember that.”

  “It would have been the same night Carter Junior disappeared,” Nick said.

  “And since it wasn’t us sneaking through his backyard, who was it?” Angelo asked.

  Carter stood up. “If someone lived on the other side of this hill, Old Man Dashner’s yard would be the easiest way to get to my house without being seen.”

  Nick spoke out loud, trying to put together his thoughts. “It would have to be someone who lives over by the school, in the rich part of town. Someone who knew we had the homunculus and wanted it. Someone who . . .”

  Suddenly he had it. “The doppelgängers came after our families early on because we took the homunculus. But if the homunculus was what attracted them in the first place, the first person they would have looked for was the person who had Carter Junior. And the first person who got sick and started acting weird was—”

  “Kimber Tidwell,” Carter said. “She saw Carter Junior on the playground. And she went to the nurse the next morning.”

  “But she came back a few minutes later and told her friends off about the hats, which was totally unlike her,” Angelo said. “I think you’re right. I think it’s her. I know where she lives. She should be leaving for school any minute, and both her parents work.”

  Carter jumped up and grabbed his sister’s bike. “It’s time for Operation Little Guy.”

  They had barely reached the bottom of the hill—Angelo leading the way, Nick close behind him, and Carter struggling to keep from crashing his little sister’s bike—when the sky, which had been clear all week, began to fill with threatening, dark gray clouds.

  “Tell me . . . you’ve . . . got an . . . umbrella in . . . that pack,” Carter puffed.

  “Sorry,” Angelo said. “I couldn’t think of everything.”

  Between his dark sunglasses and the heavy clouds, it nearly looked like night to Nick. He glanced over his shoulder, checking on Carter. “You okay back there?”

  “Peachy,” Carter gasped. “But if I biff it, you have to promise to take my lifeless body back to my parents.”

  “Deal,” Nick said.

  A few minutes later, big fat drops began to plummet from the sky. It was the kind of rain that felt like someone flicking you with their finger over and over. Nick took off his baseball cap and slowed enough to let Carter catch up with him. “This will help keep you at least a little bit dry.”

  “You keep it,” Carter said, his face red with exertion. “I like . . . the . . . rain.”

  Nick pushed the cap toward him anyway. “I have my hoodie. Besides, it will help disguise your hair. Anyone who sees that skunk head will k
now it’s you right away.”

  Carter took the hat. “Yankees? I hate the Yankees.” But he shoved it on his head anyway.

  Up ahead, Angelo turned right and pulled his bike into some trees at the edge of a lawn half the size of a football field.

  “No wonder Kimber’s so popular,” Carter said. “If she loses one friend, she can just buy two more.”

  “Money doesn’t buy happiness,” Angelo said.

  Carter wiped the rain off his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “True, but it buys cool things. And cool things make me happy. That and, you know, food.”

  Angelo shook his head. “I’m not sure she’s left for school yet. Let’s hide our bikes here and sneak around back. We don’t want any of the neighbors to see us waiting.”

  One by one, they hid their bikes in the small grove of trees and crept along the side of the yard toward the back of the house. “We really need some cool music for this,” Carter whispered. “Kind of a thing song. Like something from the Avengers movie.”

  “It’s called a theme song, not a thing song,” Angelo said.

  “Ahh, same theme,” Carter said, chuckling at his own joke.

  At least the rain was beginning to let up. Nick was shivering inside his hoodie, and he couldn’t imagine how cold Carter must be. Halfway to the backyard, he began not to feel so good. “Hang on,” he whispered, clutching his stomach.

  “You okay?” Carter asked.

  “Yeah.” He put his hand over his mouth to stifle a burp. “I think the Mountain Dew is coming back on me.”

  “It’s nearly as good the second time around,” Carter said.

  Nick groaned. “That’s totally disgusting, man.” He pressed his face to the cool, wet grass, and after a few minutes felt better. “Okay,” he said. “We can go now.”

  By the time they found a hiding place behind the Tidwells’ mansion, the rain had stopped completely and the sky was beginning to clear. Nick wiped his mouth. “Remind me to stick with water next time,” he said. “That Mountain Dew has a kick.”

  “Look.” Angelo pointed to the back door, where Rebel Benson had just shown up. The boys watched as Rebel knocked on the door. A minute later, Kimber came out wearing a fluffy pink skirt with a poodle on the side and a matching pink beret.

  “I wouldn’t let my dog go out dressed like that,” Carter said.

  “I wouldn’t let my dog go out dressed in anything,” Angelo said.

  “If my dog looked like either one of you, I’d shave its rear and walk it backward,” Nick said. It was an old joke, and a pretty dumb one at that, but it made them all bust up anyway—hands pressed to their mouths to cover the noise.

  “Let’s go,” Angelo said when the girls were out of sight.

  “How are we going to get inside?” Nick asked.

  Angelo looked quickly around to make sure no one was watching and started toward the house. “We’ll try the door first. If I know Kimber, she didn’t bother locking it. Girls like her never even think someone might break into their house. If it’s locked we’ll start checking windows.”

  Sure enough, when Angelo tried the knob it turned easily. “Move fast and don’t touch anything,” he said. He glanced back at his friends. “Remember, the goal is to—” Suddenly his voice cut off and his eyes grew huge behind his thick glasses. Without a word, he dove forward and tackled Carter to the ground.

  “Get off me,” Carter howled, struggling under Angelo’s weight.

  “What are you doing?” Nick demanded. He tried to pull Angelo off Carter, but the two of them were locked tightly together.

  Angelo looked up, his face covered in sweat. “Help me hold on to him,” he gasped, narrowly avoiding a kick from Carter’s knee. “He doesn’t have a shadow. He’s a doppelgänger.”

  It took a moment for Nick to realize what Angelo had just said. When he did, he dove to the ground, grabbing one of the doppelgänger’s arms and pinning one of its legs with the weight of his body.

  “Are you guys crazy?” the doppelgänger yelled, squirming and twisting.

  “Nice try,” Angelo snarled. “But we know what you are.”

  “I’m not a doppelgänger,” the Carter look-alike said. “Don’t you guys recognize your own friend?”

  “Are you sure it’s not him?” Nick asked, struggling to keep his grip on the creature’s sweaty arm. “It sounds like Carter.”

  “Of course it’s me,” the doppelgänger cried. “For pity’s sake, I’ve been with you guys all morning.”

  Angelo grunted. “It’s trying to trick you. It doesn’t have a shadow. Lift it partway up and I’ll show you.”

  Still holding both of its arms, Nick and Angelo lifted the doppelgänger to a sitting position. Angelo was right. There was no shadow at all.

  “See,” the doppelgänger said. “I told you I have a . . .” It looked down with an expression of surprise that seemed so real, Nick nearly believed it. “Where did it go? Where in the name of secret sauce is my shadow?”

  “The doppelgänger must have taken Carter when we were riding our bikes here,” Angelo said. “Were you watching him the whole time?”

  Nick shook his head. “I checked on him a couple of times. But not all the way.”

  “Come on, guys,” the doppelgänger begged. “You have to believe me. I’m Carter. If I was a doppelgänger I’d do that whole disappearing-face routine and bite you with my huge mouth.”

  “Not if you were trying to lure us into revealing our plans,” Angelo said.

  The doppelgänger stopped struggling, but Nick kept a tight grip on it. “You’re good,” he said. “If it wasn’t for the whole shadow thing, I’d never guess you weren’t the real Carter.”

  As they were trying to figure out what to do with the creature, the last clouds blew away and the sun came out.

  “Look!” the doppelgänger said, pointing to the ground. “See, I do have a shadow.”

  Nick squinted. The doppelgänger was right. There was a shadow. It was so light you could barely see it. A very pale gray, unlike the much darker shadows of Nick and Angelo. But it was definitely a shadow. “Carter?”

  “Yes,” the doppelgänger said, struggling to its feet. “It’s me. And I am never going on a search-and-rescue operation with you guys again.”

  “I think it really is him,” Nick said, releasing Carter’s arm. “But what’s wrong with his shadow? It’s like it almost doesn’t exist.”

  Angelo reluctantly began to let go of Carter. “How do you feel?”

  “How do you think I feel?” Carter yanked his arm out of Angelo’s grip. “I’ve had it with you two never trusting me.”

  “It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Nick said. “It’s just . . .”

  “No.” Carter shook his head. “My doppelgänger was right. You guys think all I ever do is eat and joke around. And you know what? I’m sick and tired of it.” He turned and stomped through the door. “I’m rescuing Carter Junior by myself if I have to.”

  Nick wished there was something he could say. Maybe Carter was right, though. They hadn’t trusted him—not when he’d said he’d heard something outside the tent, not when the homunculus escaped, and not now. It was a pretty lousy way to treat a friend. He rubbed the back of his neck and followed Carter into the house.

  “Anybody home?” Carter shouted.

  “Shhh,” Angelo hissed. “What are you doing?”

  “Would you rather find out someone’s home now or when we’re halfway through ransacking their house?” Carter asked.

  “We’re not ransacking anything,” Angelo whispered. “We’re finding the homunculus. Grabbing it and getting out.”

  With all the lights off, the big house was dark and more than a little creepy. “They don’t have a dog, do they?” Nick whispered.

  Angelo paused and looked back. “I don’t think so.”

  “This is not how it works in Mission Impossible,” Carter muttered. “Where are the night-vision goggles and gloves that let you climb walls?”


  “Actually,” Angelo whispered back, “I have a pair of night-vision goggles in my backpack. But I’m hoping we don’t have to use them.”

  When they reached the stairs, Angelo motioned up. “I’m guessing her room is on the second floor.”

  Nick wasn’t sure why they were being so quiet when they’d already determined no one was home. But he stuck to the side of the staircase anyway to keep from making the steps squeak. At the top of the stairs, Angelo tried the first door. It was a music room with a violin on a stand, a flute, and a grand piano.

  “I always wanted to play the flute,” Carter said. “Like those guys in the Revolutionary War. I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

  “Be quiet,” Angelo said with an irritated look back.

  Carter glared. “Some people have no appreciation for music.”

  Nick shook his head. It was like the two of them were intentionally trying to get on each other’s nerves.

  The second door opened into what appeared to be a guest room. Nick had never seen a bedroom so clean in his life. It looked like if you dropped so much as a feather, a dozen alarms would go off. Come to think of it, they were lucky that an alarm hadn’t been set.

  The third room they checked was so pink it nearly made Nick’s eyes water.

  “This is it,” Carter whispered. “Seriously, her parents should be arrested for child abuse. This much pink is illegal in at least twenty states.”

  “Okay,” Angelo said. “We have no idea if she’s keeping the homunculus here or somewhere else. But this is as good a place as any to start. You check the closet, I’ll look under the bed, and—”

  “Carter Junior, are you in here, buddy?” Carter called.

  Angelo shot him a dirty look. But instantly a muffled copy of Carter’s voice called back, “Are you in here, buddy?”

  With a shout of joy, Carter ran to a large cedar chest and threw it open.

  “I’m hungry!” the homunculus called happily from inside a cage of tightly woven wire mesh.

  Carter grabbed the cage, fiddled with a latch that was located where the tiny creature couldn’t reach it from the inside, and opened the door. The homunculus leaped for his shoulder, but it missed and barely managed to catch the front of his shirt.