The Great Shelby Holmes
“This is what happened to the frame,” she declared as I stared her down, willing her to stop talking. “Zareen was sleepwalking; her foot caught on the rug, which propelled her body forward. As she is six and three-eighths inches taller than me, her arm would’ve knocked over the frame, which would’ve hit the wall”—Shelby took masking tape out of her bag, tore off a piece, and stuck it on the wall—“right here!” She rubbed the tape a few times before pulling the piece away.
She held up the tape for us to see that there were tiny particles of glass, nearly invisible to the naked eye, on the tape.
“I don’t remember breaking it—I swear!” Zareen protested. I stood beside her and placed my hand on her shoulder.
Somebody needed to be on her side. She certainly wasn’t getting any support from her family or Shelby. In fact, if she had taken Daisy, I wouldn’t have really blamed her.
“That’s not the point I’m making,” Shelby replied. She turned to the maid. “So you didn’t clean up the broken frame prior to the discovery of this missing piece?”
“No.” She shook her head. “This was the first time I saw anything. Whenever I discover anything broken, I always report it to Mrs. Lacy.”
“What does this mean?” Tamra asked, practically begging Shelby to accuse Zareen right here and now.
“It means that yes, Zareen broke the picture frame the night Daisy disappeared, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she cleaned it up.”
Zareen relaxed slightly upon hearing this.
“It also doesn’t mean she didn’t.”
Her shoulders skyrocketed back to her ears.
I couldn’t take it anymore. “Or it was someone who was trying to set Zareen up and left the frame piece as evidence against her!”
Zareen gave me a grateful smile through her tears, while Tamra began to protest. It appeared that Tamra was all too eager to lay the blame on somebody else.
“What this does mean,” Shelby said with a raise of her eyebrow, “is that the person who cleaned up the broken picture frame was the person who took Daisy.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Mrs. Lacy said with a sigh, becoming unnerved from all the clues that hadn’t led us to the person who took Daisy.
“What happens when you wake up to discover that Zareen has broken something in her sleep?”
“We clean it up,” she stated before stealing a glance at Karina. “Well, Karina cleans it up. And we make sure Zareen’s okay, of course.”
Interesting that the safety of her daughter was her second thought. Maybe Mrs. Lacy did it! Maybe she was the one framing Zareen!
I mean, someone had to have done it. At this point, I was willing to throw out any possibilities as long as it wasn’t Zareen.
“So you’d be aware that something had happened. Having broken glass in the hallway would’ve certainly tipped you off to the fact that Zareen, or somebody else, was wandering around the house late at night. So whoever cleaned it up either didn’t want you to know she did it—”
“But I didn’t!” Zareen howled. “Even though I never remember sleepwalking, the bell always wakes somebody up! I couldn’t have done it!”
Shelby held up her hand to silence Zareen. “I believe I have successfully proved that you did sleepwalk that night and did indeed break the frame. But as I was saying, it was either Zareen or someone who didn’t want attention brought to the fact that Zareen was sleepwalking, so they cleaned up the mess.”
“So she was set up!” I nearly screamed. It was about time that Shelby realized that she was barking up the wrong tree. Ugh. Now I was starting to make bad dog puns.
“No, Watson. Whoever did this didn’t want Zareen to be accused or they would’ve left the entire shattered frame for us to point the finger at her.”
Tamra quickly did just that and pointed her finger accusingly at her sister. “She did it. She was covering her tracks!”
Zareen’s entire body was shaking as she lost her battle against a tidal wave of tears. “You believe me, Watson?” she asked between sobs.
“I do,” I replied. I turned to Shelby. “I really do, Shelby. She didn’t do it.”
Shelby replied with a roll of her eyes, a reaction I was getting used to.
“Listen, sweetie,” Mrs. Lacy said to Tamra. “I think we have to call the dog show organizers to let them know that you aren’t showing Daisy tomorrow.”
Tamra began to protest, but Shelby cut her off. “Don’t do that. I have a theory that I need to test out by watching the security footage.”
“Which is?” Mrs. Lacy prodded her.
“I’d rather wait for all the evidence to come forward before I give my verdict, but, Tamra, trust me. You will be showing Daisy tomorrow. You have my word.”
“Your word? I’d rather have my dog,” she said, sulking. She then grabbed her sister’s arm. “This whole thing would be a lot easier if you just confessed to what you did to my dog!”
“I. DIDN’T. TAKE. HER,” Zareen screamed before marching into her room and slamming the door.
Great. We were now back to the Lacys fighting.
“Shelby,” Mrs. Lacy said, her voice hoarse, “I don’t want to seem like I don’t believe you, but this is tearing my family apart. How confident are you that you can locate Daisy soon? I don’t care about the competition tomorrow. I care about my family.”
“I promise. A detective is only as good as her reputation, and if you ask around, you’ll find that mine is flawless.”
Mrs. Lacy didn’t seem too convinced. “Well, I certainly hope so.” She started to rap lightly on Zareen’s door.
Shelby began walking down the stairs. “Where are you going?” I called after her.
“I’ve got security footage to watch. Don’t you have a game of the basketball to play?”
“It’s just ‘basketball,’ ” I corrected her, although it cracked me up that she referred to it as “the basketball.” Man, she really knew nothing about sports.
“Yes, but you seem to be eager to play.” (My grammar lesson apparently went over her head.)
I had been looking forward to playing ever since I saw Zane with a ball in his hands when we first met. This was my chance.
“Are you sure you don’t need my help watching footage?” I offered.
“I think I can manage more than adequately on my own.”
“Listen, Shelby.” I looked around to make sure nobody could hear us. “I know that Zareen didn’t do it. Tamra is setting her up. Or maybe Mrs. Lacy? Or the trainer? All I know is that Zareen didn’t do it.”
“Is there a member of this family you don’t have a crush on?” She snorted.
“Shelby …”
“You want to know why it’s not a good idea to make friends, especially ones involved in a case?” she asked with her arms folded. “Because it can cloud your vision. I don’t let feelings and emotions influence me. The facts will speak for themselves. That’s the only thing I’m interested in. Having friends only complicates matters.”
I stood there with my mouth open. I felt like I was making some headway with Shelby, that she was beginning to trust me. That she and I were becoming friends. But how wrong I was. I never felt so stupid around Shelby as I did then, and that was saying something.
Shelby ignored me as she dug her hand in her backpack, while anger grew inside me.
She only thought of me as a burden. It was clear she wanted me to leave so I could get out of her hair. I was only useful to her if I was locking a door or walking her dog.
“You know what?” I snapped. “I care about others. People are humans with emotions, not merely pawns in your investigation. Maybe you’d get further in your cases or, I don’t know, with people your own age if you didn’t treat them with such spite. It’s like you don’t care about anybody or anything, except your cases.”
Shelby looked at me blankly. It was then that I realized she was holding out something in her hands. It was a bottle of water, an orange, and a string cheese wrapped in p
lastic.
“What’s that?” I asked, confused why she wasn’t mad at my outburst. Why she wasn’t fighting back. She always had a quick reply ready.
“I brought you a snack to ensure that you had proper energy before you played with the basketball. Shouldn’t you have an afternoon snack?”
With everything going on with the case, she was concerned about my diabetes?
“Oh, thanks.” I took her offering meekly, ashamed of my outburst.
Hold on. How did she know that I was even going to play basketball this afternoon? This was her plan all along: dump me off on Zane. All Shelby wanted was to find Daisy, not make friends, especially with me.
But then why would she bring me a snack? Maybe she did care?
Apparently, Daisy’s disappearance wasn’t the only mystery around here.
“Well?” Shelby opened the door and gestured for me to leave the apartment with her. “Ready?”
I didn’t know what to say. How to feel about everything she had said. It wasn’t like I could take a nutritional snack as an offering of friendship.
Shelby didn’t have friends. She didn’t need friends.
But I did.
And there was only one way I was going to get them.
“Ready.”
CHAPTER
23
As I took a few steps out from the Lacys’ building into the sunny day, I realized this was really my first time out in the city alone.
I was free!
Yet there was something that kept pulling me back to the building.
Guilt flooded me for leaving Zareen with people who were convinced that she stole her own sister’s dog.
I looked at the already-half-eaten snack Shelby had given me.
Maybe I also felt bad for leaving Shelby. Although how many ways could one person let you know you weren’t wanted?
This was always my problem. Even back on the post, I always felt bad for the one kid sitting by himself at lunch. Mom used to praise me for looking out for others. “The little guardian,” she used to call me when I’d bring the latest stray home.
Sure, I had a bunch of friends and probably could’ve been considered popular or whatever. But I always had a soft spot when someone needed help. I could never turn my back on anybody.
I guess when you’d lived in so many places, you knew what it felt like to be the new kid. I was that kid practically every other year. So there’s that army-post mentality that we’re all in this together. Sometimes there was such a small community you pretty much didn’t have much of a choice.
But this was New York City. I could do anything and be friends with anybody.
Maybe that was what was terrifying about it. Before, if I made a bad choice about who I sat with at lunch or got on the bad side of a teacher, it really didn’t matter, as I wasn’t going to be sticking around for that long. There weren’t real consequences.
Now everything seemed like a big deal. Maybe because this city was huge. The fact was that in a few weeks I’d be at a school where the only people I knew were Shelby, a genius with questionable social skills, and Tamra, a girl who might possibly be setting her sister up for a crime she didn’t commit.
As I crossed Central Park West, leaving the tall, brick residences that loomed over the park’s outskirts, I could see the signs up for Daisy.
Trust your gut, John.
That was what my dad used to tell me all the time.
That was why I’d always sit down with the person who was alone, knowing how it would feel if that were me. That might be me at the Academy.
My gut at that moment was screaming to me that Zareen was innocent. It told me that she was being set up.
But my gut had been wrong before.
It had told me that Shelby needed a friend, when it seemed like she couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.
It had told me that moving to New York City would make everything easier, when, in fact, it made everything harder. While I was used to new places, this was a whole new life.
My gut had also told me that things were going to be okay. That Dad was going to stay. But it was wrong.
Maybe I shouldn’t ever trust my gut after all.
I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I suddenly realized I had no idea where I was. I looked down at the map. Everywhere around me, there were trees and grass, people riding bikes and lying on blankets, soaking in the sun. I spun in a circle trying to see if I could spot the two towers of the Lacys’ building to get my bearings. Even though I was in the middle of this huge city, it felt like a regular park. Well, a giant, huge park that was easy to get lost in. You’d think I’d be able to find something called the Great Lawn.
Yeah, you’d think.
You’d also think a kid could believe his own father.
I turned around, trying to get a sense of north and south. All I wanted to do was start my new life with some new friends, but instead I was turning around like a dog trying to catch its tail.
“Excuse me?” I asked a couple walking by. They replied in some foreign language. I tried to stop a few others, but if they didn’t have their headphones on or were distracted by their phones, they assumed I was trying to sell them something. Up ahead, I saw some kids walking in a group, one of them was dribbling a ball.
I sped up to follow them. Maybe they were going to the same court. Or they’d at least be helpful.
I was eager to start playing some ball. Not only because it would be with some new people, but it also reminded me of my time with Dad. We’d usually shoot some hoops on the weekend or if he got home from work early. It was a pretty simple thing, but every time I held a ball in my hands, it would remind me of him. And since he was currently hundreds of miles away and not taking Mom’s calls, memories were all I had.
Was that how things were going to be now? Whenever I left a post, I had all these friends and we always promised to stay in touch. Sure, there’d be a few messages in the first couple of months, but then they’d stop. I’d made new friends, and they’d moved on. It was like that saying: Out of sight, out of mind.
But he wasn’t a friend; he was my dad.
I shook my head to get back to focusing on the game and making some friends. After a couple more minutes, I finally arrived at the basketball courts. I started scanning the different games. There were so many people it took me a second to find Zane, but relief overcame me as I spotted him and his friends in a corner court.
Maybe things weren’t going to be bad here after all.
Sure, I didn’t know what was going on with Dad. I also had no clue what Shelby’s deal was: one minute she treated me like a friend, the other she was dismissive of me. But now I could forget all that and have an afternoon of playing ball with some guys.
I waved at Zane as I jogged toward him.
“There he is!” Zane called out to me as I tried to silence the butterflies in my stomach.
It’s only a game, I told myself. It’s only meeting the people who could become your close friends.
Yeah, no pressure.
“Yo!” Zane called out to his friends, who paused their game. “You got to meet my new friend.”
My head swirled with pride at the word friend.
The group of eight guys gathered in the center of their court while I was introduced around. Luckily, when you make new friends every couple years, you become used to memorizing names pretty quickly. I made sure to say each person’s name to try to get it stuck in my head. I decided to start filling my brain attic with a whole container filled with “new friends.”
“What’s up? I’m Corey.” A tall guy who seemed much older than the rest of the group held out his fist, and unlike Shelby, I knew to return the bump.
“Hey, Corey, I’m Watson,” I replied, surprised that Shelby’s new nickname came out of my mouth. I had to admit, I was getting used to it. Plus, it was better than being just another John.
“Cool.” Corey nodded at me.
You know what? It was pretty cool.
r /> Another with a huge Afro lifted his chin at me. “Hey, man, I’m Jake, this is Antonio,” he said as he threw the ball to a guy in a Brooklyn Nets jersey.
“Let’s see what you can do,” Antonio said as he passed the ball to me.
I had to remind myself that it had only been a week since I last played with my buddies in Maryland. It had seemed so much longer than that.
I found my rhythm pretty quickly. Did a few dribbles, then faked Corey out by pretending to go to my left, but went to my right instead and sank the ball into the basket.
“Nice shot, John!” Zane called out as we went on defense. I was able to steal the ball away and pass it to Zane, who went in for an easy layup, but missed, much to the delight of the opposing team.
“Dude!” Antonio called out with a laugh. “That’s what you get for bailing on us. You get rusty!”
“Please,” Zane retorted. “I figure you guys need a break every once in a while so you get a chance to score.”
“Yeah.” Corey bumped into Antonio. “You’re just jealous Zane bought me these sick kicks. The sweeter the shoes, the sweeter our victory.”
They all groaned before continuing to play.
Just like that, everything felt natural, easy. This was where I belonged. With people who didn’t overanalyze me the second they met me. Who simply wanted to spend the afternoon playing ball and hanging. They didn’t make me feel stupid or useless.
We were equals. We could be friends.
No accusations. No drama.
Shelby’s voice from earlier today came into my head unexpectedly: Observe. Remember everything.
I did want to remember everything about this afternoon, not because I had to report back to Shelby on her assignment but because it was fun. The other morning, sitting on that stoop, I felt so lost and overwhelmed, wondering how I was going to be able to make friends in this insanely large and intimidating place.