Stealing the Game (23 page)

He thought about that, then said, “But you agreed to help me before the alarm, SP. How does your logic account for that?”

“It doesn’t. Except I knew you’d never put me in jeopardy unless you had a Get Out of Jail Free card. Never.”

“So it was pretty much blind faith.”

“Not blind. But faith in you. The Jax I knew.”

He looked straight ahead for a minute and I could see that he was choked up. Tears brimmed in his eyes.

I punched his shoulder. “Don’t get sentimental on me, copper.”

He chuckled.

“Anyway, you still don’t have the mastermind behind the garage burglaries and you don’t know how they’re doing it.”

Jax shrugged. “We’ll sweat it out of Rand. He’s not exactly a supervillain. Real bad guys usually can’t wait to rat out someone if it’ll help their own
case.”

“I don’t think he’ll rat,” I said.

“Really, Batman? And why is that?”

“Because it’s not just about money. He has another motive.”

“What do you mean?”

I told him what I meant.

“Holy crap!” he said. “Maybe I acted too quickly.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. I told him my plan.

“Holy crap!” he said again.

I said, “The CHP really teaches you how to express yourself eloquently.”

He punched me in the shoulder. Hard. “How’s that for eloquent?”

I rubbed my shoulder. “I have another question.”

“Yeah?”

“How are you going to sedate Mom and Dad so you can tell them the truth?”

BACK
to the kitchen:

“Miss me?” Jax said, kissing Mom loudly on the cheek. “You’re not getting out of this, Pop,” he said, and then kissed Dad on the cheek.

Despite their disappointment in what they thought was Jax throwing away his law career, they still couldn’t help but show their love for him under his playful embrace. Mom actually
giggled.

“We’d better let them get to it,” Dad said, finding his Dad Voice. “Chris has a big test tomorrow and Hannah can only stay half an hour.”

“Ah yes, my almost prom date,” Jax said, smiling at Hannah.

“Jax,” Hannah said coldly.

“Hannah,” Jax said, mocking her serious tone.

Hannah looked at my parents for help. “We have twenty-five minutes left.”

Mom started to push Jax out of the kitchen. “Let’s leave them alone,” she said.

“Actually,” Jax said, “we’ll only need five minutes.” He pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and dangled them in front of Hannah.
“You’re under arrest, Hannah Selby.” He informed her of the charges and her rights as he cuffed her arms behind her back.

“I want to call my attorney,” she said.

“As soon as you get to the station,” Jax said, and he led her outside to the two cops waiting for her.

I didn’t pay attention to any of that. I was busy watching the wide-eyed expressions on Mom’s and Dad’s faces. They muttered a few sentences (“What are you doing,
Jax?” “This isn’t funny, son!” “Hannah, what’s he talking about?”—stuff like that). But they ran out of steam pretty quickly. They looked pale and
breathless, as if they were about to faint, so I held out chairs for both of them at the kitchen table.

They sat quietly for a moment, catching their breath and adjusting to the new reality.

“Do you know what’s going on, Chris?” Mom asked, the first to return to lawyer mode. Her voice was calm and steady.

“Let’s wait for Jax,” I said.

“Son,” Dad said sharply, “tell us what’s going on right now!”

“He’ll be back in a minute,” I said, holding firm.

They seemed too tired or stunned to fight me, so we just waited in silence.

A couple minutes later, Jax walked in and clapped cheerfully like a game-show host trying to pump up the audience. “All righty! Bet you have some questions?”

Actually, all things considered, what followed was pretty civil. Jax explained that he’d decided after graduating from college that law school wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to
sit at a desk researching law cases, making backroom deals, working on cases that could drag on for months or even years. He wanted to catch bad guys and make the world safer right now.

“Why didn’t you just tell us that?” Mom said, a crack in her voice.

“Because you would have tried to talk me out of it. You would have presented a logical case with brilliant arguments. You would have told me that there were lots of good men and women who
felt the way I did and who would make fine police officers. Then you’d point out that there were not many who had my test scores and grades and who would make first-rate lawyers. You would
have told me that the work is dangerous and I might get killed. You would have reminded me of what that would do to the family. All of which is true. And I couldn’t take the chance of you
talking me out of it.”

Mom and Dad swore that they would have been understanding. And I know they like to think of themselves as the kind of people who would have been understanding. But I don’t think they would
have been. They were still the same nervous parents who stood in the pool and watched their toddler son (me) swim the four feet from one to the other, the water around them practically boiling from
their anxiety.

Jax told them about his undercover assignment and how he had to pretend to be a drinking, gambling idiot. And how it had led to the arrest of a serious criminal. He’d left out the part
about us robbing the pawnshop, his beating, and how he’d used me and my friends to lose the money.

That was a good call by him. Otherwise, we’d be using live electrical wires we’d yanked from a lamp cord to restart their hearts.

Eventually, the conversation got around to Hannah. Jax explained to them that she was the mastermind behind the garage burglaries.

Dad looked like Jax had karate-chopped him in the throat. Mom looked like she felt a tarantula crawling up her leg under her pants.

“Actually,” Jax said, “it was Chris who figured out that part. So, I’ll let him explain.”

HERE
’
S
basically what I told them:

“How did you know the
A
on his hoodie was from the University of Arizona?” Mom asked.

“I saw their basketball team play during March Madness. Remember, Dad?”

Dad nodded and said to Mom, “We did.” Then he gave me a little smile, like he was impressed. “How did you remember that?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know why I remembered the stuff I did (and forgot stuff about math equations and periodic charts right before a test). Somehow, when I thought back on the last few
days, little inconsistencies floated in my mind like dead flies in a bowl of milk. And I would think about them until I figured out what was wrong.

Mom and Dad exchanged looks. Silent parental communication passed between them, like insects. Then Mom turned to Jax and scolded, “You bet on his game? Didn’t you think that betting
might lead them to become more violent?”

Oops. I forgot that we hadn’t told them that part. Jax gave me a thanks-a-lot glare.

Dad laid a hand on Mom’s arm. “It’s done, sweetheart.” What he meant was:
This kind of reaction is why Jax didn’t tell us anything in the first place.
Mom
nodded. What she meant was:
We’ll wait until later before tearing into both of them.

Silent communication is pretty cool. I had the silent part down; now I needed to learn how to use it to actually tell people stuff. I guess it’s a parent-to-parent thing.

“Okay,” Mom said. Then she looked at me. “Not bad reasoning, Chris.”

“But it wouldn’t hold up in court,” Dad pointed out. “She could claim that you said it during your tutoring session. Or that she overheard it from another student she
tutored. Classic case of he said/she said.”

Mom smiled at me. “Still, not bad.”

“There’s more,” I said, encouraged.

Mom thought about that. “Wait a minute. So the babysitters pulled the burglaries? I thought the robberies took place when no one was home.”

“They didn’t commit the actual robberies themselves. They just made it possible for the real burglars to gain entry.”

“How?” Mom asked. “Did they steal keys?”

“No, that would’ve been too risky. They did something much more clever.”

I paused here for dramatic effect. I didn’t get many opportunities in a house full of really smart people to have my own “genius moment.” I was definitely going to make it
last.

“Are we going to have to wait for the movie to find out?” Mom said.

“They didn’t need a key,” I said. “What they did do was steal the remote code to the garage door openers…”

[This next part is where I explained how they got those codes and used them to break in, which I’m sure as heck not going to tell you guys, because I don’t want you thinking, Hey,
that would be fun, and getting arrested. Leave the Master Thief stuff to us professionals.]

“…and once Hannah had the code, she’d give it to Fauxhawk, and he’d program a new remote device to open the door when no one was home. He’d drive over in his van
with the pool services sign on the side, and no one would suspect anything.”

“Babysitters,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Remember when I used to read those Baby-sitters Club books to you when you were little?”

“No,” I said. Of course, I did remember, but I wanted to stop Mom from ever bringing it up again, especially in front of my friends.

“This was the Evil Baby-sitters Club,” Jax said.

“But why would these babysitters do it?” Dad asked. “It’s not like we live in a bad neighborhood. These kids all come from good homes.”

“Crime isn’t always about background, Dad,” Jax said. “Hannah tutored dozens of kids, so she had a lot to choose from. She only needed a few bad apples. Those who were
babysitting obviously needed money, so she picked kids who seemed especially troubled. She’d pay each a few hundred bucks to do something with very little risk. Thousands of kids shoplift
every day. They take a much greater risk for a lot less reward.”

I didn’t say anything. My shoplifting adventure would stay between me and Brooke.

“But they’re kids,” Dad said, getting a little angry at the idea of someone using children to commit crimes.

“Exactly,” I said. “Easy for someone smart, like Hannah, to manipulate. And kids never think they’ll get caught.” Something I knew from experience.

“But how could Hannah be sure they wouldn’t tell their friends, or get a bad case of the guilts and confess to their parents?” Dad asked.

“Guess she figured they didn’t want to go to jail any more than she did.”

“I get why kids might do it. Extra money. Maybe even the thrill of doing something unlawful,” Mom said. “But I don’t understand why Hannah would. She is pretty, smart,
has—had—a good tutoring business…her master’s degree.” She made a face as if the idea was too bitter to hold in her head.

“She did it for the money, Mom,” Jax said. “Just like every other crook, from convenience-store robber to the white-collar billionaire. Tustin PD estimated they stole more than
a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of goods. That’s a lot of tutoring hours.”

“I think she did it because she was Rand’s girlfriend,” I said. “They met in college, and when he started being a criminal, she helped him. Like a family business or
something.”

“Such a waste,” Mom said.

I shrugged. I didn’t feel sorry for Hannah. She chose to help rob those families. She’d gone through all that education and came out with the conclusion that she deserved what others
had by stealing it. Then I thought, Isn’t that what Master Thief thinks?

I shook my head, not wanting to think about that right now.

“You know, Chris,” Mom said, “I’m very impressed by your reasoning. Well done, son.”

“Well done?” Dad jumped out of his chair. “It’s better than well done. What my son did was nothing short of terrific! I can’t believe you put all that together
yourself. You have the first-rate analytical mind of a lawyer, Chris.”