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Authors: Elizabeth Eulberg

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BOOK: The Great Shelby Holmes
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“What are you up to tomorrow?” Mom asked.

I had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow. I was on my own. Which was exciting and also completely scary.

“Well, I have more boxes to unpack.”

“John”—Mom's brow furrowed—“I told you to do that today. I know it's not fun, but I need your help. It's just you and me now. Will you please finish tomorrow?”

“Yes, I'm really sorry.” I hated that I'd let her down. But if we were really staying here, why did it matter how long it took to unpack? “I was going to finish this afternoon,
and then, well, Shelby and I met up with one of her friends.”

Okay, that was a lie, since Shelby doesn't have friends (present company included).

“I felt a bit cooped up and wanted to meet some new people.”

Mom reached out and grabbed my hand. “I know exactly what you mean. I'm glad you're making friends.”

I kept forgetting that this was a new place for Mom, too. She had to start over just like me.

Honestly, making friends had never been a problem for me. But I was worried New York City was going to be different. There were so many options of places to go and people to meet—what if I got lost in the shuffle?

Mom cleared her throat and looked down at the table. I instantly knew what was coming next. “So, I finally reached your father today.”

I twisted the napkin in my lap. “How is he?”

I hadn't spoken to Dad since we moved. We kept missing each other. For three days.
Three days
. It was the longest I'd gone without talking to him. I knew it was going to be hard living so far away from him, but I figured we'd always be able to talk. But so far, nothing.

“He's good. He's going to call tonight around eight.” Mom's jaw tightened. “He promised.”

I nodded as I took another slice of pizza. I didn't want Mom to know how much it upset me that she needed to remind him to call. He should
want
to talk to his own son.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders as I focused on chewing my food, trying to swallow away my hurt.

“John?” she prodded. “This has been a tough transition for him as well—we're all adjusting.”

Was she defending him? Like, really, Mom?

When she realized I wasn't in the mood for this talk or defending Dad, she decided to change the subject.

“So Shelby!” Mom said with a laugh.

Ugh
. Wrong topic. Sure, let's go from talking about your father who doesn't want to talk to you, to the girl who doesn't want to be your friend.

I'd never felt so alone.

Mom didn't seem to notice my discomfort. “You seem to be getting pretty tight with her. Why am I not surprised that you've taken her under your wing?” Mom said with a proud smile. “You really like hanging out with her?”

I looked up at Mom. It was such a simple question, wasn't it? Did I like hanging out with her?

Well, it was complicated.

Shelby could be extremely rude, temperamental, and
prickly—and that was putting it mildly. (No wonder she didn't have any friends.)

But then I thought about all the things I'd learned and been exposed to from knowing her for only a couple days.

Actually, the answer was pretty simple.

“Yeah, I do.” But the more I thought about Shelby, the more I came to my own deduction about her. She was so uncomfortable today when she had to pretend to be a friend. Being friends with someone should be second nature. I never really thought about it. I was just myself around my friends. But I've had years of practice. Shelby didn't have any. She might be smart, but she didn't know any better.

This thought kept nagging at me. Maybe it was so easy for her to dismiss me because she never had anybody ever
want
to be her friend before.

“Mom, I think she needs my help.”

Yeah, Shelby didn't need my help solving a case, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she needed someone to help in other ways.

Maybe what Shelby Holmes truly needed was a real friend.

CHAPTER

11

I
think
this
goes
without
saying
,
but
things
weren
'
t
going
that
well
for
me
.

I felt even worse the next morning as I waited outside for Shelby with a peace offering. I stood facing the front door, so she couldn't plan an escape.

“What do you want?” she asked with a scrunched face.

I waved a white tissue in one hand while I held the other out to her. She was about to walk right on by me when she paused. She looked at what was in my hand. “Is that for me?”

“It is.” I gave her a bag of assorted candy that Kristos told me was her favorite. “It's a thank-you for yesterday. And an apology for making you leave the Lacys' early. And well, I know you think you don't need help—”

“I
know
I don't need help,” she insisted. Her head suddenly tilted at me. Then she narrowed her eyes as she looked me up and down.

Oh no
. She was doing her thing
to me
. I immediately
tensed up, not wanting to hear whatever she had to say. Especially since there wasn't anything she was going to tell me about myself that I didn't already know, I hoped.

Her scowl softened slightly. “This long of a verbal sabbatical with your father must be arduous.”

She knew. Of course she knew. (At least I think I knew what she was talking about.)

Dad didn't call last night. I sat, like a total chump, with Mom's phone on my lap, waiting for his call. When he was ten minutes late, Mom grabbed her phone and locked herself in her room, and I could hear her leaving messages, her voice getting louder with each one.

His response? Zip. Zilch. Nada. Diddly-squat.

Maybe I should hire Shelby to solve the case of the disappearing dad?

“We don't have to talk about it,” Shelby offered.

So Shelby
could
read social cues.

I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to even think about it. It was too painful. What I
did
want was to get back to this case. I needed something to distract me. Something that would make me feel useful.

“Thanks.” I stood up a little straighter, hoping to appear more confident. “Listen, it's obvious you don't need my help solving the case, but I figured that maybe I could help you deal with the Lacys. They seem like a handful.”

It was the only thing I could think of to get her to agree to let me help her—to make the Lacys seem like the problem.

Shelby paused for a moment. She untied the bag and put a few Swedish Fish in her mouth. After a few moments of consideration (and chewing), she finally said, “They have proved to be rather troublesome. With such dissonance amongst them, I wouldn't have blamed Daisy for running away.”

I debated saying more but realized it was best to leave my argument as basic as possible.

Shelby took another handful of candy. My teeth hurt just watching her inhale all that sugar.

She nodded. “Fine, but at no point are you to impede my investigation.”

“Of course!” I replied, even though I wasn't sure what
impede
meant. I figured it was her way of telling me to stay out of her way.

“Yes!” I threw my fist in the air, excited that I was able to go back to the Lacys' and figure out what happened to Daisy.

Shelby shook her head. “Thank you, Watson, for the candy … and for making me already regret my decision.”

An hour later, we were in the elevator on our way up to the Lacys' apartment. Shelby informed me on our subway
ride that her goal for the day was to examine the apartment and make an official list of suspects, which currently included the five family members, even Tamra.

As we knocked on the front door of the apartment, I felt nerves in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know anything about solving crimes, but I planned on sticking close to Shelby to figure out how she did it.

“Hi, Shelby and John,” Mrs. Lacy said after opening the door. She looked exhausted.

“Any word on Daisy?” Shelby asked.

Mrs. Lacy shook her head. “Nothing. As you can imagine, it was a rough night.”

The three siblings were sitting in the living room. Zareen sat with a scowl on her face next to Zane, her arms folded. Mrs. Lacy sat next to Tamra, who sported bloodshot eyes. “Shelby, Tamra informed me that you're known around school as a bit of an amateur detective.”

“There's nothing
amateur
about what I do,” Shelby said to the shock of Mrs. Lacy (okay, and me—who would talk to an adult like that?).

“Ah,” I interrupted in an attempt to make peace (yeah,
the Lacys
were the real problem), “we're simply here to help, Mrs. Lacy. Shelby has solved a bunch of crimes, so she's the best person for the job. You should see the respect she has in our neighborhood. She's like a celebrity!”

Shelby slowly turned toward me. I was waiting for her to make some snide comment or put me in my place, but she simply turned back to the family.

“We'll take all the help we can get,” Mrs. Lacy continued. “What do you need from us?”

Shelby got right down to it. “It would be helpful if you could each tell me where you were the morning Daisy went missing.”

“I was here the whole time,” Zareen stated quickly. “I didn't leave. Ask security!”

Hmm
. She seemed pretty agitated. And really insistent that she was innocent. Anytime I watched a cop show, it was usually the guilty people who were the most annoyed at being questioned.

Zane went next. “I went to play some ball with my boys, around eight. I didn't see or hear Daisy or Roxy before I left. I went straight to the courts over at the Great Lawn. I had no idea Daisy was missing until Tamra called me. I think that was about two hours later.”

“Okay. Mrs. Lacy?”

“I was at a seven a.m. Pilates class. I didn't see either dog before I left. I assumed they were in the dog room. Ed left for work at the same time. It wasn't until I got back that we knew she was missing.”

Shelby walked over and studied each member of the
family. Each person shifted uncomfortably when it was their turn. Honestly, they all looked guilty, although I would've probably acted the same way during one of Shelby's examinations.

“Mrs. Lacy, how often is the laundry done in the house?” she asked.

“Almost every day. With five people, we go through a lot of clothes.”

“I see.” Shelby was pacing back and forth. “So it is more than likely that you are each wearing a clean set of clothes.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Lacy replied while the others nodded.

“And are the dogs allowed on the furniture?”

“No.”

Where was she going with this?

“And I'm assuming the floors are cleaned regularly?”

BOOK: The Great Shelby Holmes
8.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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