Sammy Keyes and the Power of Justice Jack (17 page)

Only, like a couple of magnets clicking together, I suddenly get it.

“She must be his ‘manager’!” I whisper.

Sure enough, she steps forward and shakes Agent Man’s hand like he’s a long-lost friend. “I’m Sheri. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”

“Likewise.”

“So what do we think?” she asks him. “He’s everything I said and more, isn’t he?”

Agent Man nods and says, “This has potential.” But the way he says it is nothing like the way he was talking on the phone. It’s much more ho-hum than that. “I’ll need to check in with some of my contacts—get their reaction.” He turns to Jack. “It was nice meeting you.” He smiles at Billy. “And you.” Then he eyes the High Roller and says, “Can we head back to town? I’ve got to get going.”

Justice Jack’s mom looks pretty deflated, but Jack seems oblivious. “Certainly!” He turns to Billy. “Deuce! You’re taking the Rushin’ Roulette back into town, right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Can you lock down the lair?”

“Consider it done!” Billy says, sounding like Junior Jack.

“Then we’re off!” Justice Jack cries. Only, after charging forward two steps, he stops, turns, and hurries toward the pink trailer. “Got to hit the Jackpot first!”

Casey and I look at each other and mouth, “The Jackpot?!” and have the hardest time not busting up.

A minute later we hear the toilet flush in the pink trailer and Jack comes bounding down the steps. “Anyone else?” And when Billy and Agent Man shake their heads, Jack cries, “To the High Roller!”

The minute they’ve roared off, Mama Jack gets in her little car and drives it up to the mobile home, parking it around back. So when we’re sure the coast is clear, Casey and I scoot around the barrels and the bike and zip inside Pair-a-Dice, where Billy’s putting up the workbench.

“Dude!” he says, jumping. “Where’d you come from?”

“Uh, school?” I tell him. “By way of Buckley’s?”

“Yeah, yeah, right, whatever,” he grumbles.

I cock my head a little. “Billy!”

“It’s the Deuce, Sammy-keyesta, and I have had the most awesome day of my life, so, no, I don’t want to get a lecture about ditching school.”

“Who’s lecturing?”

“I know you think this is stupid. You probably think it’s
dangerous
, but—”

“I think this place is awesome,” Casey tells him. “And I think you look pretty superhero-ish in that getup.”

And just like that, Billy’s eyes light up. “There’s something about wearing a mask—dude, it transforms you.”

Casey nods. “I can see that.”

“So is it a secret that you’re the Deuce?” I ask. “And what’s the plan?”

Billy scowls at me. “Of course it’s a secret. And why does there have to be a plan?”

I shrug and just shut up, because I’m obviously being brilliant at pushing the wrong buttons.

And that’s when we hear someone coming.

“Hide!” Billy whispers frantically, but it’s too late.

Mama Jack has just entered the building.

“What
is
this?” Mama Jack demands.

Now, if I had a job that I really, really liked and my friends showed up and got me in trouble, I’d be ticked off. And from the look on Mama Jack’s face, Billy’s in danger of getting fired whether Justice Jack likes it or not. Her cheeks are flushing, her finger’s coming up like a gun, and I just know she’s about to yell, Get out! All of you! Get out and don’t come back!

I mean, that’s what all adults yell when they catch kids where they’re not supposed to be, right?

And since I don’t want Billy to be mad at me forever, I blurt out, “Wait! We overheard that agent say he thought Jack and all of this”—I wave my hands around—“were solid gold.”

Her hand freezes. It’s still pointing like a gun, but at least she’s not firing. She gives me a hard look, then Casey, then Billy, then me again. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

She’s still suspicious. “How’d you hear that?”

“We were, uh …” I look at Casey, who shrugs like, Go
ahead. So I tell her, “We were worried about our friend becoming your son’s sidekick, so we came up here and were, you know, kind of hanging around outside.”

“Spying, you mean.”

I pull a face. “Yeah. But if we hadn’t been, we wouldn’t have overheard that agent guy make his sneaky phone call out back, and you’d never know what he
really
thinks.”

Her pistol finger starts coming down. “So what exactly did you hear?”

“Well, overall he was really excited. He didn’t act that way around you, I know, but when he thought no one was listening, he was totally amped. He said it was solid gold and that he thought they could start a bidding war.”

Her little finger pistol is down and her mouth is wide open. “He said that?”

I tell her, “Yup,” and Casey wiggles his eyebrows at Billy and says, “He also said you’re cute and very marketable.”

I backhand Casey and look at him like, Why’d you tell him that? but it sure turns Billy’s mood around. “Dude, you’re serious?” He grins. “I’m gonna be a reality star!”

Mama Jack is shaking her head, muttering, “That little sneak. He acted like he barely cared.” She looks at Casey and me and seems to make up her mind. “You two are welcome here anytime. And I think it’s nice that you’re worried about your friend.” She rolls her eyes a little. “I’m worried about my son! But there’s no talking him out of his fantasy, so we’re trying to turn it into something real.” She sticks her hand out. “I’m Sheri, by the way.”

I shake it. “I’m Sammy, and this is Casey.”

“And I’m a little cute Deuce!” Billy singsongs. “You don’t know what I got.”

I look at him like, Huh? but Mama Jack seems to get him. “Well, Little Cute Deuce,” she laughs, “if this moves forward, we’re going to have to meet with your parents.”

Billy’s merry little mood vanishes. “No! They will totally not get this!”

Mama Jack crosses her arms. “We’ll persuade them.” She points a finger at him. “And no more cutting school. Today was important, but from now on, you and Jack’ll have to work around it.”

“How do you work around it?” Billy cries. “Crime doesn’t stop because school is in session!”

“You sound like Jack,” she grumbles. “That’s his excuse for not getting a real job.” She wobbles her head a little. “He
has
to be available to save the world twenty-four-seven.”

“It’s true!” Billy cries.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You want to turn out like his other assistants?”

Billy just stares at her.

“They were once young and cute, too. Get what I’m saying? If you’re gonna do this, you need to work it in around school.”

Billy finally looks down. “Yes, ma’am.”

She snorts, “Ma’am,” but you can tell she likes the way it sounded respectful. “Leave the hero gear here,” she tells him. “It wasn’t free.”

“The mask is awesome,” Billy says, snapping it off.
“Something about it makes you feel like you really can take on the world.”

Mama Jack heaves a sigh. “That’s what Jack says. When he started this whole thing, I did my best to talk him out of it. But then he came up with the costume, and that was it. The costume seemed to have this
power
over him.”

“Without it,” Billy says, stripping off his gloves, “you’re just a small-caliber do-gooder.”

Casey and I bug our eyes at him, while Mama Jack shakes her head. “I’ve heard
that
before, too, and if I had any sense at all, I’d call your mama right now and get you out of that costume for good. But I like you a whole lot better than those bums he’s been trying to get to fly right, and call me selfish, but if Hollywood thinks you’re cute and marketable, I’m stayin’ out of it.”

“Speakin’ of mamas,” Billy says, heading for the door, “I’d better get home.”

“Speakin’ of mamas,” Casey says, “I’d better, too.”

“And I’d better three,” I laugh.

“Wish Jack had had some friends like you when he was your age,” Mama Jack says, closing the door to Pair-a-Dice as she follows us out. “He was a little different to begin with, but after his dad died, he went into a bit of a fantasy world.” She frowns. “And kids can be merciless.”

So there I am, standing in the wide open, thinking about what she’d just said, when I hear something roaring up the road. I know it’s not the High Roller, ’cause it’s a smoother roar than that, but still it does sound familiar, and when I turn to look, what do I see?

A streak of red flashing between eucalyptus trees.

At first I’m going,
No … it can’t be.…

But who else drives like that?

“Casey, look!” I gasp.

The second he sees it, he cries, “Hide!”

Mama Jack says, “What’s wrong?”

Billy’s by the bike, so Casey and I dive for him, yanking him with us behind the barrels. “Don’t let her know we’re here!” I call to Mama Jack.

“Who?”

“The woman in that car!”

“Who is she?”

“Just tell us when she’s gone!”

But we can see fine from behind the barrels, and we watch as the car slows waaaaaaaay down.

“What’s your
mom
doing here?” Billy whispers.

Casey keeps his eyes glued to the road. “Good question.”

“I feel like Pongo and Perdita in
One Hundred and One Dalmatians
,” I whisper.

“How sad that my mother’s Cruella De Vil,” Casey mutters.

I cringe. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. This is totally like that.”

“So who am I?” Billy asks.

“Patch,” Casey and I say at the same time, then grin at each other.

“That’s the hyper puppy? The one who barks at the TV?”

“That would be the one,” Casey says.

Billy sighs, “Awesome.”

The car’s straight ahead now, crawling past the property.

And then … it … stops.

The window powers down, and when we see that the car has a passenger, Billy says what we’re all thinking. “Uh-oh.”

“Where’s three-fifty-seven?” Heather shouts at Mama Jack.

“Right here,” Mama Jack calls back. “Who you lookin’ for?”

There’s a little hesitation and then, “My friends. They said they’d be here!”

I snort. “Friends? More like juicy prey.”

“But why are they here?” Casey whispers. “You gave me the address over a pay phone!” He turns to Billy, but before he can accuse him of anything, I say, “Heather saw me looking up the address on the Internet at the library.”

Billy and Casey both stare at me, and finally Billy says, “This is bad, Sammy-keyesta. This is very bad.”

Mama Jack has hollered back, “What do they look like?” and Heather’s now describing us. “A guy and a girl … my age … probably got skateboards …”

Mama Jack laughs. “Good luck riding a skateboard up here!” Then she shakes her head and says, “You must have the wrong address. We don’t get that kind of traffic.”

The window goes up, and as the car prowls along, Mama Jack edges closer to the barrels and tells us, “Stay put. She’ll be back.” Then she adds, “Probably a good idea if I don’t hover around, but before I go, who are they, and who gave up Jack’s hideaway?”

“They’re not looking for Jack,” I tell her. “They’re looking for Casey and me. It’s his mom and sister, and they hate me.”

“Ah,” she says, tossing a grin at me over the barrels. “Sounds like a surefire way to make him like you even more.” Then she heads for her mobile home.

Now, it’s not as if I haven’t worried that the reason Casey likes me is because he’s not supposed to. And even though he’s done and said lots of things that make me believe that it’s not true, I find myself slipping back into the Land of Doubt.

Casey can tell what I’m thinking and kisses my temple. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Yeah, Sammy-keyesta, don’t be stupid,” Billy says, kissing my other temple.

I heave a sigh. “Thanks.”

A short minute later Candi’s car comes cruising back down the road, and it’s going a lot faster than it was before.

“So now what?” Billy asks when they’re gone. “There’s only one way out of here, and the Deuce can’t dawdle.”

I grin at him. “Dawdle? Is that what deuces do?”

“That’s what they
can’t
do. I’m serious. I’ve got to get home before my dad!” And he does seem a bit panicked, but he puts that aside long enough to eye me and say, “You’re just jealous because the Deuce is such a better name than Umbrella Girl.”

I laugh. “Oh, right. That’s it.”

“Look,” Casey says, “just go. My mom’ll be long gone
by the time you hit the main road, and even if they see you, what are they going to do?”

“Run me over?” Billy says.

Casey and I both laugh, because his forehead’s all wrinkly with worry. “Well, besides that,” Casey says, “you’ll be fine.”

So Billy grabs his bike, and says, “What about you guys?”

Casey nods. “I’m thinking maybe we’ll go up to the end of the road and see if there’s a shortcut out of here.”

I grin at him. “A shortcut?”

He grins back. “Got something against shortcuts?”

“You are such a bad influence.”

“Me?”

And I guess we were being kind of googly-eyed because Billy hops on his bike and says, “I’d be ready to puke right now, only I’ve joined the Justice Force and have better things going than looooove.” He pushes off and calls, “Like ridin’ the Rushin’ Roulette!” then tears out of there.

“The Rushin’ Roulette,” Casey says with a little snort. Then he grabs my hand. “Come on. Let’s see if there’s another way out of here.”

And off we go, in search of a shortcut.

Sandydale continued for another hundred yards or so, then stopped at a long metal guardrail attached to wide wooden posts. There was an official yellow road sign with big black letters that said
END
bolted to the middle of the guardrail, so it was pretty clear that we were supposed to stop and turn around.

The thing about shortcuts is, there’s never a sign that says
RIGHT THIS WAY
! According to Marissa,
shortcut
is code for dark, scary, or dangerous … usually all three. And even though I always tell her she’s just being a scaredy-cat, I have to admit that shortcutting usually involves at least a little heart thumping. I mean, even if where you’re going isn’t marked
NO TRESPASSING
, it’s a
shortcut
, not an “alternate route” or something, you know,
official
, so chances are you
will
be trespassing. And even if no one cares that you’re cutting through a blocked-off alley, or climbing a fence, or diagonaling across a construction site, it always
feels
like you’re about to get busted, or mugged, or, you know, killed.