“Simply curious,” Shelby stated coolly.

  “Well,” Zane said as he got up from the couch (before Shelby could fall over him), “I better check in to see if there’s anything I can do. Please find her, Shelby.”

  “I will.”

  He took a few steps but then stopped and put his hand in his pocket. “What on earth?” He pulled out the trainer’s phone.

  I stared at Shelby, who looked blankly back at Zane.

  How did she get it in his pocket?

  The close call on the couch now made sense.

  Zane shook his head as he walked away. “Here I thought this day couldn’t get any more bizarre.”

  Yeah, me too.

  Shelby stayed quiet with her eyes closed until Tamra appeared back in the living room. It didn’t take a face expert to tell that she’d been crying. “I don’t understand why you’re not interrogating Zareen. She clearly did it.”

  “She is a suspect, yes,” Shelby admitted. “But clearly is not a word we can use at this juncture. There are too many elements in play.” She then stood up. “Tamra, I think it’s time you take me to the scene of the crime.”

  CHAPTER

  14

  This was cruel. I certainly hoped it was also unusual.

  The dog room off the foyer in the main hallway was twice the size of my bedroom at our new home. I was also pretty sure that the two dog-sized couches and beds probably cost more than all the furniture in our apartment combined.

  Shelby dropped down to her knees and started climbing around, talking to herself as she inspected every dog toy, bowl, and chew stick.

  “Is anything missing?” Shelby asked as she scratched behind her ear. (She was taking this whole putting-herself-in-the-victim’s-shoes act a tad too far.)

  “I don’t think so,” Tamra replied.

  “What about the stuffed bone? You said that Daisy took her favorite toys—the stuffed Chihuahua and a stuffed bone—with her to bed. Caruso was in the hallway being chewed on by Roxy that morning and is over there in the corner. I didn’t see a stuffed bone in your room or in this room. Where is it?”

  Tamra started searching around the space. “You’re right. It’s missing!”

  Shelby groaned loudly. “Honestly, do I have to do everything here? I asked you to tell me everything that happened, yet you failed to notice that one of Daisy’s favorite toys was also missing.”

  “I—I …” Tamra broke down in tears. “I’m sorry. All I want is my dog back.”

  “Well, you aren’t really helping by omitting such important and obvious facts from my investigation,” Shelby stated flatly.

  “Hey,” I said in a low voice as I patted Tamra’s back. “It’s okay. There are so many toys in here I can see how you didn’t realize it was missing.”

  “You’re not helping, either, Watson,” Shelby repri- manded me.

  “Come on, Shelby, give us a break.” I tried to reason with her. “Not everybody is a supersleuth like you. It’s not fair to think that anybody can compete with your powers of observation. There’s no need to lash out.”

  “You think that was lashing out?” Shelby snorted before returning to her four-limbed investigation of the area. “Please.”

  “Hey!” Zane walked into the room. “It’s going to be okay, Tamra.” He wrapped his arms around his sister, who continued to sob.

  Zane turned his attention to Shelby, who was currently climbing into the canopy dog bed. “Ah, John, does she always do strange stuff like this?”

  I could only shrug my shoulders in response since, in the limited time that I’d spent with Shelby, she’d been exactly like this.

  Shelby jumped up and went over to the shelves that contained the dog food. “This is what they eat?”

  “Yes,” Tamra answered as she wiped away her tears. “They only eat organic dog food, and Miss Eugenia cooks chicken or wild salmon for them every night.”

  The dogs even ate better than me. Man, life in New York City wasn’t fair.

  Tamra approached the clear plastic containers that held the dog food. She patted the one that had the letter D in pink cursive. “This one’s Daisy’s.”

  “Thanks for clarifying,” Shelby replied sarcastically.

  I shot her a warning glance. If this was how she handled a client, I’d hate to see how she treated the thief once he (or she) was caught.

  “Listen, Shelby.” Zane put his hands in his pockets. “I’m willing to do whatever you need to help. We’ve got to find Daisy.”

  “Of course.” Shelby stood up and placed her hand on Zane’s shoulder. “You’re the big brother. That’s incredibly generous of you.”

  Wait a second. Why was Shelby being so nice to Zane? I’d never seen her be … normal to anyone.

  Maybe she actually listened to me when I told her to take it easy?

  “So, where do you go to school?” she asked. “You’re not with us at the Academy.”

  “No, I’m not really into arts. I go to Saint Francis and play ball there.”

  “And what ball position do you perform?”

  What now?

  “I’m the point guard.” Zane stood up a little straighter. “Basically, I’m the captain of our team.”

  “Are you really?” Shelby shook her head as if she was enamored by what Zane was saying. “That’s quite an impressive feat.”

  “Yeah, I do all right.”

  Shelby then grabbed his hands and started examining them. “I presume you need to have strong hands to play the ball.”

  Now everybody in the room was staring at Shelby like she had lost her mind.

  “CAN WE PLEASE GET BACK TO THE MATTER OF MY MISSING DOG?” Tamra screamed.

  Shelby looked blankly at her. “But that’s precisely what I’m doing.”

  “Really? Because it seems like you’re flirting with my brother,” Tamra shot back.

  YES! That was what Shelby was trying to do, wasn’t it?

  Gross!

  I had to cover my mouth so nobody could tell that I was holding back a laugh. Here I thought I’d seen it all, and then Shelby attempted to flirt with Zane. So there were now two things Shelby wasn’t an expert on: flirting and friendship.

  Shelby ignored Tamra’s comment. “Who has keys to the apartment?”

  Zane replied, “All of the family, Emerson, Eugenia, our cook, and Karina, the maid. Security also has a set, but they would only let in an authorized person who already has keys.”

  “And they would have a list downstairs of who’s been allowed in?”

  “Yes, but they already said that no one was spotted with Daisy that morning.”

  Shelby thought for a second. “I know Roxy barks at Eugenia—what about Karina?”

  Zane laughed. “I mean, yeah, especially since she can’t stand the vacuum.”

  “The better question would be who or what doesn’t that dog bark at?” Tamra stated with a smirk.

  “And who in the family does she bark at? You mentioned your father yesterday.”

  Tamra nodded. “Sometimes she barks at him, mostly when he’s yelling at Zareen about Roxy. So all the time.”

  “Come on, Tamra.” Zane folded his arms. “Roxy isn’t that bad. Zareen does the best she can with him—give her a break.”

  “Why should I? She’s the one who took Daisy!”

  Not this again! Fortunately, Shelby stepped in before another meltdown could happen.

  “I would love to see the list of visitors from the past week. Plus, it would be helpful if I could personally speak to security.”

  A thought suddenly hit me. Whenever I saw a movie set in fancy buildings like this, there were always all these cameras in the elevator and hallway. “Is there video footage of the elevator?”

  “Yeah, but security already looked at it.” Tamra looked sad. “They didn’t find anything.”

  Shelby gritted her teeth. “You’re telling me that there’s been security footage this entire time and you neglected to mention it to me?”

&n
bsp; Did I really think of something before Shelby? I mean, security footage seemed pretty obvious. Although I just thought of it now.

  “But security didn’t see Daisy on the footage.”

  “I don’t care what security thinks they did or didn’t see. I need to look at it with my own eyes.”

  Tamra seemed defeated. “Okay, let me go ask.”

  Zane followed Tamra out, while I felt pretty proud of myself for helping Shelby. For once.

  Shelby looked me up and down. “Well, Watson, I have to hand it to you. That was rather … enlightening.”

  “Why, thank you!” I had a goofy grin on my face, which Shelby chose to ignore. She wasn’t going to get off the hook so easily. “So what was that all about?”

  “Are you referring to my slight mental lapse?” She was visibly frustrated that she hadn’t thought of the footage first.

  “No, I’m talking about you and Zane.”

  “I was simply inquiring about his extracurricular activities. Isn’t that the same thing you’ve been annoying me with for the last two days?”

  “No, you were flirting!” I pointed at her accusingly.

  “Please,” she said with a scowl. “However, I do have a question for you. In which sporting activity does one play the position of a point guard?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I am extremely serious. Detective work isn’t something to take lightly, Watson.”

  “Okay, but it’s not like you’ve never heard of basketball. Right?”

  “Basketball.” She swirled the word on her tongue like she was speaking a foreign language. “And that’s a sport that’s played on a …”

  “Court! A basketball court.”

  “So that was the ‘ball’ that you and Zane have been conversing about?”

  “Yes.” I rattled my head back and forth in an attempt to make this insane conversation make sense. “Do you really not know anything about basketball?”

  “Why would I?”

  “But you know about sleepwalking drugs and black coral and the height at which people spray-paint!” I could hardly keep my voice in check.

  “Yes, I like to keep myself informed about important things.”

  “Sports are important!”

  “To some.” She scrunched up her nose.

  “So what do you want to know?” I liked that I finally knew more about something than her. I could use this in the future if she made fun of me for not knowing the currency of a particular country I’d never heard of or the sleep habits of some wild creature.

  “You’ve told me enough,” she said as she went back into the hallway. “And I hope to forget it as soon as possible. I mustn’t take up space in my brain attic with useless knowledge.”

  Brain attic?

  Okay, maybe Shelby Holmes wasn’t a genius. She was plain nuts.

  “So?” Shelby looked expectantly as Tamra and Zane entered the hallway.

  “You can go look at the footage,” Tamra informed us.

  “Excellent!” Shelby clapped her hands together. A ringing noise came from her large backpack. “Ugh,” she sighed as she took out a cell phone.

  “You have a phone?” I asked.

  “My parents wanted to place a tracking device on me. This was the compromise that we reached.”

  Shelby’s parents were a lot smarter than she gave them credit for.

  “This is Shelby Holmes,” she answered impatiently. “I see. However, this is not a convenient time, as I’m in the middle of a very important case.” Shelby’s face pinched tightly as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, probably some business associate or contact or whoever else would be calling her. “While I appreciate your sentiments, I mustn’t—No, I’m simply … But it’s an urgent—” She stomped her foot on the ground, and a few of the vases near us rattled. “But, Mooooom!”

  It was her mom?

  After a few more protests, she threw her phone into her bag with a frown. “I, unfortunately, need to take a rain check on the surveillance video. But I’ll be back tomorrow to view it.”

  Seriously? Now Shelby was the one who had to leave. Maybe I could watch the footage?

  Zane looked at me. “You want to go hit the court, John?”

  I couldn’t believe it! I was going to finally hang out with Zane and play ball and do something normal.

  “Sure, that’d be cool,” I said with a little tip of my chin, attempting not to appear as desperate as I felt.

  “Sorry, Watson.” Shelby gave me a tight smile. “Unfor-tunately, you have to come with me. That call concerned you as well.”

  CHAPTER

  15

  Two hours later, Mom and I found ourselves knocking on the door to apartment 221B.

  “Come in!” A woman with the same red hair as Shelby, but pulled back in a loose bun, answered the door. “I’m so glad you were able to join us for dinner.”

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Mom said as she handed over a pie that just came out of the oven. Mom and Mrs. Holmes ran into each other in the hallway, and Shelby’s mom invited us to dinner.

  “Shelby! Come over and say hello to our guests!” Mrs. Holmes motioned to her daughter.

  I tried really, really hard to not laugh. I did. But I couldn’t help myself. It was too much: Shelby was in a floral dress with a bow in her hair and didn’t appear to be very happy about it.

  “Greetings and salutations,” Shelby said with an exaggerated curtsy. “Welcome to our oh-so-humble abode.”

  The living room had the same layout as ours one floor below: brick fireplace along one wall and a bay window looking out onto Baker Street. They had a green velvet sofa on one side and two leather armchairs on the other, with an oval coffee table stacked with books in between. Sir Arthur was sleeping in a corner.

  Off the living room was an alcove that held a dining table, which led into the kitchen, and then there was a staircase leading up to another floor.

  “Dr. Watson brought us some pie. Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Holmes straightened the bow in Shelby’s hair, and Shelby swatted her hand away like her mother was a fly.

  “What kind of pie?” Shelby asked as she squirmed away from her mother’s preening.

  “Apple. I hope you like it,” Mom replied.

  “Hello! Hello!” A tall, pale, and extremely thin man with hair that was nearly as white as snow came into the room. “I’m Charles Holmes. So glad you could join us, Dr. Watson and John.”

  “Please, call me Janice.” Mom shook Mr. Holmes’s hand. “Thanks for having us.”

  “Our pleasure!” He clapped his hands together. “And, John, I hear our little Shelby has taken you around the neighborhood. I hope she didn’t get you into too much trouble. Unfortunately, if there’s trouble, she seems to find it.” He rubbed Shelby’s head.

  “Daaaad.” Shelby took a few steps back, her arms folded defiantly.

  “It was a great way to get to know the neighborhood,” I replied. “Plus, we went to a classmate’s apartment in this giant building. I’d never seen a place so big.” I spent the entire time Mom was baking trying to describe the Lacys’ home. I might have left out that it wasn’t anywhere close to where we lived. And that it had the separate dog room. That would’ve been too harsh to describe to her in our tiny apartment.

  Okay, truthfully, I didn’t mention anything about the dogs at all. I wanted Mom to think that I was having a normal afternoon with normal people doing normal kid things. Not investigating a dognapping. I figured it wasn’t really lying if I simply happened to omit certain details.

  “What friend?” Mr. Holmes asked. “That’s great that you’re making friends, Shelly.”

  “It’s Shelby, Father. How many times must I remind you of that, especially since you had given me that designation?”

  Shelby stomped back into the kitchen, where the clattering of pans could be heard.

  “Oh, the perils of raising a rambunctious daughter. She certainly keeps us on our toes!” Mr. Holmes said wit
h a shake of his head. “Please make yourselves comfortable.” He gestured to the seating area, where Mom and I sat down. After taking our drink orders, he gave us a big smile before retreating to the kitchen.

  “He seems really nice,” Mom commented while we sat in silence, hearing the occasional noise from the kitchen.

  Shelby approached us with a tray that had our drinks.

  “Thanks, Shelby!” Mom said. “It’s been very sweet of you to show John around.”

  “Not like I had a choice,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Sorry?” Mom tilted forward.

  There was another crash in the kitchen. Mom stood up. “Let me see if I can help.”

  Shelby sat down on the couch, her legs swinging nearly a foot above the carpet.

  “Is he one of our esteemed dinner companions?” A boy with the same pale complexion as Mr. Holmes, but with light blond hair, sat down next to Shelby. Michael Holmes, I presume?

  “Affirmative,” Shelby replied. “His mother is in the kitchen assisting the parental units.”

  “Good thing she has combat training,” Michael scoffed.

  “Hey, man, I’m John!” I leaned over to shake his hand.

  Michael studied me with bored eyes before picking up a large book from the coffee table.

  “As you can see, Watson, Michael is the personality of the family.”

  “I’m also the brains,” he said with a crooked grin.

  “You wish.”

  Michael finally looked over at me. “Don’t let her pedestrian parlor tricks impress you. My sister is more on par with your basic street con artist than the real detectives she’s so desperate to impress.”

  “And how many cases have you solved, Michael?” Shelby shot back at him.

  He crossed his legs and went back to reading his book.

  Well, one mystery was solved: weirdness runs in the family.

  “Dinner is served!” Mr. Holmes came out of the kitchen holding a dish with chicken, with Mom behind him with a bowl of green beans.

  “I was thinking that you could sit at the head of the table, Janice.” Mrs. Holmes pulled out the chair. “I’ll have Charles sit at the foot, while the children and I take the sides.”