The Great Shelby Holmes Meets Her Match
“I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if Shelby hadn’t been there,” Mom said, tears spilling down her cheeks again.
I didn’t want to think about that, either.
I’d had low blood sugar before, but it never got so bad that I’d lost consciousness. I’m just lucky it wasn’t so bad that I started having seizures or …
Whoa. Shelby really did save my life.
Mom took a few moments to compose herself. “I’m so grateful to Shelby and relieved that you’re going to be okay, John, but …” She placed her head in her hands. “What were you even doing in there? You were supposed to be at the museum.”
I can’t believe I’d done this to Mom. Not only was she upset at what had happened to me, I had lied to her. A lot.
This proved Mom was right: I shouldn’t get involved in other people’s messes. But how could I explain the rush that working with Shelby gave me? That I learned more in the past few weeks with Shelby than I’d ever learned from anybody.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” I squeezed her hand.
“We need to have a long talk. But that can wait. The most important thing right now is for you to get better.”
“Okay.” I knew I was in trouble, but after everything that happened, maybe it would be better if I were grounded. At least at home, Moira Hardy couldn’t get to me. At least I hoped she couldn’t.
Even though I had a pounding headache, I sat myself up (successfully this time). I looked over at Shelby again and saw that she was talking to someone. That person was writing everything down in a notebook.
Wait a minute. It couldn’t have been … No! It was!
Detective Lestrade!
That was when I realized there were other police officers around.
We were in so much trouble.
It was just our luck that out of all the police detectives that could’ve been called in for this case, we got Detective Lestrade. She would definitely take Moira’s side on this, since she and Shelby couldn’t stand each other.
Lestrade must’ve sensed me staring because she looked up and smiled at me. This had to be a figment of my imagination. While I’d never done anything to warrant Lestrade’s wrath, I was an accomplice of Shelby’s and therefore guilty by association.
Lestrade and Shelby exchanged a few more words, then Lestrade made her way over to me and Mom.
(And here I didn’t think this day could get any worse.)
“What are we going to do, Detective?” Mom asked. “I want the girl who trapped my son to be held accountable for what she did. I want her locked up!”
Lestrade gave my mom a tight smile before turning her attention to me. “How are you feeling, John?”
“I’m feeling better.” And confused. And a little worried about what was going to happen to us.
Lestrade tucked her pen behind her ear, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. “That’s good.” She looked at Mom, who had her arms crossed and was clearly not going to be satisfied until she saw Moira hauled off in handcuffs. Come to think of it, I’d like to see that, too. “I’m afraid it’s not so simple, Dr. Watson. Shelby and John were trespassing in this building. The family has said they won’t press charges for”—Lestrade looked down at her notebook—“harassment and unlawful entry, as long as you leave. Their daughter, Moira, was almost too hysterical to get a statement from. Her tears were a bit much if you ask me. However, she swears she didn’t see them or know they were in the boiler room.”
“That’s not true!” I protested. “She’s the one who locked us in there!”
“I’m afraid there’s not much we can do,” Lestrade replied. “The only real evidence we have is that you and Shelby were in the building without permission. The doorman can testify that you entered unlawfully. And well …” Lestrade looked over at the other officers. “It’s Park Avenue. It’s the Upper East Side. I’m afraid these officers are going to take the word of a wealthy resident over yours.”
Moira was going to get away with it.
She did it. She bested us.
“This is ridiculous!” Mom threw her hands up.
“I’ve done all I can by talking to the officers on the case,” Lestrade said, and I believed her. She seemed as frustrated as Mom at how unfair it all was.
That had to mean that Lestrade believed us. That must’ve been why Shelby was talking to her.
But wait. If Lestrade wasn’t working the case, what was she doing here?
“This isn’t your case?” I asked.
“No. Shelby called and said she needed my help.”
I had to lie down again. I was clearly hallucinating, because there was no way Shelby would ever ask Lestrade for help. Ever.
CHAPTER
25
I didn’t know what was worse: understanding that I could’ve really been hurt or waiting for my punishment.
Even though I was feeling a lot better the next day, Mom made me stay home from school. She didn’t go to work, and I spent all day taking naps, reading, and writing in my journal. And talking to Dad.
“You’re looking better,” Dad said during our third video chat since I got home. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, John. But I talked to my boss, and I’m going to come visit in a few weeks. How does that sound?”
“Really?” I smiled. I was supposed to go to Kentucky to spend Thanksgiving with Dad, but this way I’d get to see him even sooner. And I’d get to show him around the neighborhood. He’d meet my friends. I could tell him all about Shelby.
Shelby.
I still hadn’t had a chance to talk to her. I wanted to thank her for what she did. I also wanted to know what we were going to do now. Shelby didn’t seem like the type of person to ever admit defeat, although she’d probably never lost before. I was also desperate to find out why she asked Detective Lestrade for help.
Out of everything that had happened, that was the thing that confused me the most.
“You make a list of the things you want to do while I’m there. Maybe we could catch a Knicks game?” Dad suggested.
“Yeah, that would be cool!” I glanced over at Mom, who was pretending to read a book, but I could tell she was listening in. “And I want you to meet my friends.”
“Can’t wait. I have a few words for that Shelby girl,” Dad said with a laugh.
Mom grimaced at the mention of Shelby’s name. I couldn’t blame Shelby for not stopping by. While Mom was grateful to her for saving me, she also blamed Shelby for what had happened. “I knew she was nothing but trouble,” Mom had said last night after I told her everything about Mr. Crosby, Ms. Semple, the watch, and Moira. “You never would’ve been in that mess if you were with your other friends instead of snooping around on some case.”
I couldn’t argue with her. But still, it wasn’t fair. I wanted to go with Shelby. She even tried to get me to leave, but I was the one who insisted on staying.
“Shelby’s something else, but she saved me, Dad,” I said loudly enough to make sure Mom heard.
“I know, buddy.” Dad gave me a smile as he reached out to touch the screen. I’d never wanted Dad to be here more than I did now. “My break is over and duty calls. Chat tonight?”
“Sounds great.”
We hung up and I went over to the couch, grabbed my journal, and wrote down everything that I could remember from yesterday. Mom had filled me in on what Shelby and Detective Lestrade had told her about what happened after I blacked out. Although there were still a few things I didn’t know.
There was a knock on our door a little after four. Mom got up from her computer to answer it. I almost didn’t want to look as I had a feeling Mom wasn’t going to be pleased to see Shelby.
But instead, she turned around and gave me a smile. “Hello, guys!” She opened the door wide, and there were Jason, Carlos, John Wu, and Bryant. “Come on in! Can I get you anything?” she asked.
“No thanks. We’re just here to see how the hero’s doing!” Jason exclaimed with his chest puffed out, like he was swelling w
ith pride.
Hero? Was he being sarcastic? I would’ve thought Carlos would be the one to give me grief.
“Wonderful,” Mom said with a laugh. “Just try not to work him up too much. He’s still not one hundred percent.”
I cleared my throat, letting them all know that I could hear them. I was only about twenty feet away and tired, not deaf.
“Hey, Watson!” Carlos came over and lifted his hand for a high five. “What’s going on with the Academy’s newest legend?”
Yep. I knew Carlos wouldn’t be able to resist a sarcastic dig.
John Wu sat down next to me on the couch. “You have to let me interview you next time I’m assigned a hero role. To actually get in the head of someone who is brave.”
Ah. Et tu, John? (Did I use that right?)
“We thought it was cool playing on the same court as legends. Meanwhile you were becoming one,” Jason chimed in.
“Ha-ha,” I said drily.
“Come on, man! Stop being so modest. This is too awesome,” Jason continued. “Your online journal is going to get so many hits when you write about this.”
“Online journal?” Mom asked from the corner.
Busted.
(I’d conveniently left my journal out of our conversation last night.)
“Yeah, although it’s more like The Great John Watson!” Carlos teased. We all knew there wasn’t anything great about what I did. Which was nothing.
Bryant nodded. “Yeah. Or The Indestructible John Watson! Incredible job, man. Although it would’ve been cool if you’d let us in on your plans.”
“Yeah …” I couldn’t think of what to say. How did they know what happened yesterday? It wasn’t like Shelby was one to talk to people at school.
“The dude who single-handedly saved Shelby Holmes is speechless!” John Wu nudged me.
Wait, what? They thought I saved Shelby? They really thought that I was the one who was a legend? They had it all wrong! Hero? Great? Indestructible? Those words should be used to describe Shelby, not me.
“Yeah, I guess Shelby isn’t so smart after all,” Bryant stated with a satisfied smile.
I looked over at Mom, who appeared as confused as I felt. And not only about my online journal.
“What?” I asked, trying to figure out what they were talking about. “What did you hear about yesterday?”
Carlos plopped down on the floor and started looking at my video games (all four of them). “That you guys were stuck in some basement because of a case and then, like, you had to scale a wall to get out. That’s so rad. I mean we just play heroes in games, but you’re one for real.”
What?! Okay, so I wasn’t completely with-it yesterday, but I knew everything they said was a lie. Where on earth would they have heard that?
“How did you …”
“Everybody at school is talking about it nonstop,” Bryant filled me in. “I mean, we knew something was up when Shelby showed up at school with her arms messed up, and then it was over the entire school by lunch.”
The only other person at school beside Shelby who knew everything that happened was Mr. Crosby. No way was he broadcasting this fake story.
So if I took a page out of Shelby’s book and made deductions … the most reasonable explanation would be that Shelby was the one spreading that rumor around school. There was no other scenario that made sense. It had to have been her.
But why would Shelby lie?
CHAPTER
26
If I was confused when I woke up outside Moira’s apartment building, then I don’t know what to call how I felt once the guys left.
They kept telling me about how I had saved the day, and asking me questions I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say so I faked a headache, and Mom made them leave. While it was nice to be thought of as a hero, I should’ve said something to correct them. I needed to be done with lying. I just wasn’t sure where to begin.
It seemed that I wasn’t the only one.
“I don’t even know how to make this up to you,” Mr. Crosby said on the phone later that evening. It was his second call that day. He talked to Mom in the morning when I was napping. “I never should’ve involved you and Shelby.”
But that was precisely what Moira wanted to happen. We’d all been played.
“I don’t think Shelby really gave you a choice,” I said, trying to make light of everything. Besides, none of this was Mr. Crosby’s fault.
He sighed. “I still can’t believe what Shelby told me. That anybody, especially a former student of mine, would be capable of doing such a thing. Please know that I would never, and I mean never, want you to be put in any danger.”
“All part of the job,” I reassured him, even though of course I never thought I was going to put my life in danger, either. All for a watch. It stung that we went through all of that and were still empty-handed.
“Again, I’m so sorry, John. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After a few more apologies from Mr. Crosby, we hung up. As I went to finish the homework that Jason had brought for me, I heard a light rapping on the front door. I walked over to my bedroom door and stopped when I heard voices.
“Hi, Shelby. Are you here to see John?” I heard Mom ask.
“On the contrary, I’ve come to speak with you, Dr. Watson.”
I heard the door close and footsteps in the living room. I tiptoed into the hallway so I could hear better.
“I’m very sorry for the situation John was placed in yesterday. He’s doing better?” Shelby’s voice was different. It wasn’t filled with its usual vibrato. She was nervous, self-conscious, and unsure of herself.
“Yes, he is. While I know that I should be grateful to you, and I am—”
Shelby interrupted her. “I am entirely to blame for yesterday. I kept John out longer than originally planned. I didn’t think about his diabetes until it was too late. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’ve ensured that my backpack is now properly stocked with water, juice, and snacks for him, but I was hoping you could give me a glucagon rescue kit for emergency purposes.”
There was a pause. “That would probably be a good idea, but Shelby, John won’t be helping you on any more of your cases. He lied to me and said he wasn’t doing any detective work. He had my permission to go to the dog show last month, and that was it. He never told me he was still working with you. He’s never defied me before, and since we’ve moved here, well … I don’t like that he’s started to deceive me. I can’t help but think this is your doing.”
I almost ran into the living room to let Mom know that Shelby never forced me into anything. Okay, so I wasn’t thrilled about having to set off that smoke bomb, but I could’ve said no. I could’ve walked away. But I didn’t.
“Well, Dr. Watson, it seems that you weren’t the only one being lied to, as I wasn’t aware that John hadn’t told you about our cases.”
That was the truth. How many secrets was I keeping? Maybe Mom was right. I never lied before we moved here.
Shelby continued. “My parents were hesitant when I first began taking cases, but people need my help. I provide a very useful service.”
“One that you can continue, but not with my son,” Mom replied with a tone that said don’t challenge me.
Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?), Shelby wasn’t so easily persuaded. “I completely understand, but I think you need to know that your son is very bright. And that’s about as high a commendation as somebody can get from me.”
I couldn’t believe it. It was the biggest compliment Shelby could give someone. I always figured Shelby needed me for the nongenius tasks: relating to people, knowing about normal things like sports, how friends act, etc. But would she really trust somebody to work with her who she didn’t think was smart? I never thought of that before.
“I’d be lost without Watson, truly.” Shelby’s voice was soft. “And, in a way, he’s
making me a better person. Your son cares about people. People respond to him, and that’s something that can’t be taught in a book. You should be proud of him.”
“I am,” Mom stated. “But not about the lying.”
“Yes, he lied to you, but he knew how much help I needed. I, of course, refused to believe that I would ever need help. But your son was the first person who wasn’t threatened by my skills. He’s the only person to ever be a friend to me, a real friend. Most of the time when people are nice to me it’s because they want something. Not John. I’ve never had that before. I’ve never had a true friend before.”
There was a pause, and I thought I heard a sniffle. I couldn’t tell who it was from: Mom? Shelby?
It couldn’t be Shelby. She didn’t cry.
She also had never opened up to someone like she was doing right now.
“I hate that his trust in me got us into yesterday’s predicament, but I once promised him that I would never let anything happen to him. And I meant it. We had a setback, but there was no way I was going to sit and watch him slip away.”
“Shelby,” Mom started.
“No, please listen. I don’t make many mistakes, Dr. Watson, but on that very rare occurrence when I do, I learn from them. Which is why I’m here now asking you to help me manage his diabetes if we’re ever in a difficult quandary again.”
Mom was silent, while my head was spinning. Shelby could’ve written me off. She could’ve gone back to working cases alone, but she wanted me there. She wasn’t one for sentimental mush, but everything she had said meant the world to me.
Mom finally spoke. “I’ll give you a few things, but I still don’t want him working on cases, Shelby. I appreciate everything you’ve said, but my answer is still no.”
I leaned against the wall, feeling the worst I’d felt all week (which was saying a lot).
“Okay,” Shelby relented, and I was disappointed she didn’t fight harder. “However, I think you’re underestimating your son.”
I heard Mom sigh. I felt like I had to do something. Maybe it was time to finally be a hero (or at least not a coward who was hiding).