The Stolen Chapters (14 page)

“That was the official interrogation,” the detective said, patting the stairs next to him. “This is for me.”

Moira turned around and slowly walked back, then dropped to the stair beside the detective.

“She's a criminal?” Bethany asked.

“Sort of,” Owen said. “She's trying not to be, but she's the great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter of Professor Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes's greatest enemy. So she's got crazy natural talent.”

“Do you want to talk about this?” the detective asked the girl.

“Not even a little bit,” she said, her chin on her palms as she watched traffic go by.

The detective nodded. “I know you want to find your mother. But she's
gone
, M. And everything you did to find her just led you here.”

Bethany seemed to stiffen next to Owen, and he realized too late the similarities. Ugh. Still, the damage was done. And maybe Bethany would be more willing to get Moira's help with so much in common?

“Her mother is Moriarty's descendent,” Owen whispered. “Her dad, on the other hand . . .”

“Is that all, Detective Gonzalez?” Moira asked, not looking at her father.

“I miss her too, you know,” the detective said, putting his arm around his daughter's shoulders. “Every day. But your mom made terrible choices in life, probably including marrying me. The only good thing that came from it is you, and I'm not going to let even her memory change that. I know you're not like her, M. You're too good a person to keep . . . well . . .”

“Breaking the law?” Moira said. “I'm trying, Dad. I really am. I know it doesn't look like it—”

“You just robbed four banks—”

“They got their money back!” Moira said, then grinned at him. “It was way too easy, by the way. They should
thank
me for highlighting their weaknesses—”

“Moira!”

“I know, okay?” she said, her smile disappearing. “I just thought maybe mom was watching, to see if I had what it took. I thought she might have noticed if I did something big.”

Her father sighed. “Your mother loves you, Moira. And let's hope she's staying away because she's trying to do the right thing, which is not bring you into her world. But I need you to stop this. You're lucky none of the charges stuck. You think I want to investigate my own daughter?”

“They'd never have put you on the case, Dad,” Moira said, grinning at him. “You know that's a conflict of interest.”

The detective stared at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I'm sorry.” She paused. “But just so we're clear, none of the charges stuck because I'm really good. You know that, right?”

Her father glared at her for a second, then smiled. “Yes, fine, you were amazing.”

“Woo!” she shouted, and threw her arms around him. “That's all I want. Take pride in what you've got, Dad!”

He laughed and hugged her back, then pulled away. “You know I
am
proud of you, right? You can do so much with your life, and I just don't want you following your mom down the wrong path. Promise me, M. Promise me you'll be good from now on.”

Moira sighed loudly. “I mean, what's ‘good' exactly?”

“No law breaking, no criminal activity of any kind, and definitely no bank robbing!”

“Fine, I promise,” Moira said, shaking her head sadly. “But you're definitely going to need to raise my allowance then. I needed that extra cash from the banks!”

Her father stared at her hard.

“We'll talk about it,” she said, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Remember, you promised,” her dad told her, standing up.

“I know, I know,” she said, standing up too and hugging him. “See you tonight.”

“Let's make it at home this time, instead of in jail,” the detective said, then tousled her hair and walked back into the police station.

“That's the end of the book right there,” Owen whispered, staying hidden in the bushes as Moira came closer.

“This is the girl you want to help us against Doyle?” Bethany hissed as Moira passed by. “She's a criminal!”

“So was I,” Kiel said, grinning at her. “Don't you trust
me 
?”

“That's different,” Bethany told him. “You were stealing to live. She's doing it because it's fun. And because . . . she's trying to find—”

“She's perfect!” Owen lied, trying to avoid the topic of Moira's missing mother. “She's like Doyle's opposite. I'm surprised they're not in the same series. They're both descended from some of the greatest minds who ever lived. Who better to help us?”

“He's right,” Moira said from the sidewalk. “You clearly need help if you're trying to be inconspicuous.” She turned around and gave them an excited look. “
Please
tell me you're from my mother?”

For a moment, not a proud one, the thought of answering yes passed through Owen's head. It'd get her help, wouldn't it? And maybe Bethany could actually find her mother in the book somewhere.

One look at Bethany's face killed that thought, though. “Uh, no. We were hoping to hire you, actually.”

“Owen,” Bethany hissed at him, but before she could say anything else, Moira grabbed Owen by his shirt with both hands and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you!”
she shouted. “Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've done something I shouldn't?! I'm so bored I've been wondering if I'm in a coma!”

“It's not anything criminal,” Owen said, blushing hard from her kiss. “We just want you to be ready in case we need your help with anything. We're investigating this guy—”

“You want me to rob him?” Moira said, her eyes widening. “
No
, identify theft?” She gasped, then frowned. “You don't want me to kill him, do you? I've got a line. Though I might be able to recommend someone—”

“Whoa!” Bethany shouted. “Definitely no killing!”

“I can't tell you too much,” Owen said. “But we're going to this school, the Baker Street School for Irregular Children, and—”

“I've heard of that,” Moira said, shrugging. “You trying to break someone out? That's always fun! I haven't done a breakout in, like, weeks!”

Owen froze. She'd heard of that? How could she have heard of a school in a different book? “Uh, no, no breakouts,” he said, trying to stay on track. “Just, like, protection—”

“You want me to make the school pay protection money?” she said, frowning. “I might need a bunch of muscle for this, then. How much can you pay?”

“Owen,” Bethany said, yanking him backward, “this is a bad idea!”

“Just backup, not a protection racket,” Owen said quickly. “Do you . . . know who runs the Baker Street School?”

Moira shrugged. “I don't know, a principal? Who cares. It's like juvie for big-timers. I've heard some of the older kids talking about it. They're all afraid, so I think the cops use it to scare them.” She smirked. “Don't worry, it's not a concern. I
never
get caught.”

“You just got caught now,” Kiel said, nodding at the police station.

“Ha, good point!” Moira said, and smacked his shoulder. “But I'm free, aren't I? I never get charged. Speaking of charging, this is going to cost a lot. My fee, travel expenses—though I'll probably just steal a car—and incidentals. Let's call it ten grand.”

“What?!” Bethany shouted.

“Would you take gold?” Owen asked, taking a step away from Bethany.

“What?!” Bethany shouted, this time at Owen.

He gave her an embarrassed look, then handed her a page from
Kiel Gnomenfoot, Magic Thief
, specifically the page talking about the dragon's lair filled with treasure, within which Kiel and Charm were going to have to find their first key.

“The dragon won't miss it,” Owen pointed out.

Bethany just stared at him, her mouth opening and closing. She was never going to go for this, he realized. This was breaking
way
too many rules. But this was all he had. He didn't have Kiel's magic or her power, so all Owen could do was try to be clever and come up with plans. And this one actually made sense, sort of. You fought fire with fire.

“Fine,” Bethany whispered, and turned around.

“Gold's good,” Moira said, trying to see over Bethany's shoulder. “I'll have to look up the exchange rate . . .”

“Do the math later,” Bethany said, passing her a handful of gold coins.

Moira's eyes lit up. “This is probably close to half . . .”

Bethany turned away, then dumped another bunch into Moira's hands. “We'll get you the rest after the job, then.”

Moira nodded, not looking at her. “I'm just
so happy
right now. So, so happy. So, so,
so
!”

“Didn't you make your father a promise?” Bethany asked her, and Owen sighed. He knew she'd agreed too easily.

“Sure,” Moira said, not looking up from the gold. “And I kept it all the way over to you guys. That's a lot for me!”

“Be at the school tonight,” Owen said. “And make sure you don't let anyone see you.”

This finally made Moira glance up. “You're just adorable, you silly little man,” she said. “I just want to eat you alive for saying something so cute. No one sees me when I don't want them to. Trust me, I'm an expert!”

They exchanged phone numbers, so Owen could call her in case of emergency while they were in the school. Then Moira turned and walked away, murmuring to her gold. “You're so pretty, aren't you?” She held it up to her face. “So pretty and shiny and
worth so much
.”

“Thank you for going along with this,” Owen told Bethany as she took his and Kiel's hands, ready to jump them out.

Bethany looked at him for a moment like she wanted to say something, then sighed. “I don't even know what to say anymore. Everything's weird and crazy now, Owen. Let's just hope this all works out.”

He nodded, inwardly screaming at himself over Moira's mother. Why hadn't he looked closer at her story? The last thing he wanted to do was make Bethany's life
worse
.

00:58:42

Y
ou really weren't kidding about forgetting, were you,” Moira said, still looking confused. “But I'm not a Moriarty. My mom was, but I'm a Gonzalez. Come from a long line of law enforcement.” She glanced at Owen and Kiel. “Yeah, okay, that wasn't going to hold up. I'm a Moriarty. So?”

“Hold on,” Owen said, squinting against the pain in his head. Remembering who Moira was helped, but that wasn't the bigger deal. No, it was something in the memory.

Moira had heard of Doyle's school. Which meant that their stories were taking place in the same world.

“Owen, we should get off the roof,” Kiel said.

“One second,” Owen said, putting a finger up. “Something's
very
wrong.”

He sat down in the middle of the roof, covering his eyes with his palms. Wait. Okay. So if Moira and Doyle's stories took place in the same world, did that mean that
every
story did? At least the ones that took place in a real-world setting?

That would explain how Doyle had shown up in other books. It wasn't about switching stories so much as just finding a main character and getting in their way. But why hadn't it happened before? Why hadn't fictional characters ever crossed over into each other's stories?

Except maybe they
had
, but since there was no reason for one main character to recognize another, why would they? If a boy with a lightning scar on his forehead happened to be sitting next to you and you'd never heard of Harry Potter, why would you even notice?

So was there an entire realistic planet, then, in the fictional world? Right down to the same cities and countries? Right down to the streets? To the buildings?

Right down to the libraries? And even to the people?

Oh, oh
no.

“Kiel,” Owen whispered, dropping his hands from his eyes and looking up at the boy magician with horror. “I think I know where we are.”

“Look at you, you're like a map!” Moira said. “I love it. But are we going to leave, or . . .”

Kiel bent down and helped Owen to his feet. Owen pulled him a few feet away and grabbed Kiel by the shirt. “I think we're in the fictional world,” he said, his voice shaking.

Kiel frowned, looking around. “You realize we're in your hometown, right? Did that memory hit you too hard?” He felt around Owen's head. “You seem okay, but maybe it's, like, internal damage.”

“No, I'm fine,” Owen hissed. “But it all makes sense. Listen.” He raised his voice. “Moira, did the three of us and our friend Bethany ever all hold hands and, you know,
jump
? And then you ended up here?”

“Unless that's a funny way of saying ‘I stole a car and drove here,' then probably not,” Moira said. “Can I use that though? I
jumped
a car to get here. I like it!”

Kiel's eyes widened. “How could she have gotten here, then? Maybe she found a way out, like Bethany's father?”

“This is the fictional world,”
Owen said. “Listen to me. We've jumped into stories that take place in a world exactly like ours, right? Well, they all had to exist somewhere, and apparently it's here. Together, in one place. That's how Moira had heard of the Baker Street School.” Again to Moira, he said, “And how did you track us down?”

“I watched the school, like you paid me to do,” Moira said with a shrug. “You two and that girl came out all tied up, and they threw you in a truck. I followed it to that library, which then blew up. I saw you two get out, but not the girl.” She made a face. “Hope they left her in the truck, actually. That pulled away a little bit after dropping you off.”