Free Amped: A Kid Sensation Companion Novel by Kevin Hardman

“holy terror” who was currently in juvie for stealing the neighbor’s car.
    I spent the next forty-five minutes hearing all about Ms. Stawicki’s life, from her three marriages to her uber-critical mother to her lousy job as a waitress at a late-night diner (which she believed contributed to her poor health). And, although I introduced myself, I’m not sure if she ever really understood who I was. (In fact, she seemed to somehow become convinced that I was a social worker of some sort, because she kept asking if I needed to check on her two younger kids, who were the complete opposites of their older sister.) Or maybe she just needed a sympathetic ear, which I could completely understand.
    After finally getting off the phone with Ms. Stawicki, I called the number of the last name on my list, Lynn Fraleigh. A gruff, male voice answered, and – after hearing who I was calling for – quickly informed me that I had the wrong number. His tone gave the impression that he didn’t want to be bothered, but he extended me the courtesy of telling me that the address I had for Mrs. Fraleigh was not the one associated with the number I had dialed. And then he hung up.
    I spent a moment contemplating what the last call meant. The phone number was no longer valid for Mrs. Fraleigh, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything; people changed numbers all the time. It was possible that she was still living at the address Li had given me for her. With nothing to lose, I decided to make a house call. After looking up the address on my cell phone’s map, I shifted my car into “Drive” and headed out, noting to myself that my auto had actually served as a nice office for my phone calls.
    *****
    The address for Mrs. Fraleigh turned out to be a high-end bakery that specialized in wedding cakes. It seemed like a dead end, but I had come this far. I parked the car and went inside.
    The interior was what you’d expect: lots of multi-layered wedding cakes of all sizes, as well as cake pops, donuts, and other treats. I asked to speak to the manager and a few minutes later was introduced to a jovial, middle-aged fellow by the name of Huxley, who also happened to be the owner. He was a third-generation baker and had been at this location for over twenty-five years. Bearing that in mind, it seemed like a long shot, but I asked him if he knew anyone named Lynn Fraleigh. As luck would have it, he not only knew Lynn – she was his niece.
    “Her husband was an engineer working overseas,” Huxley explained. “She stayed here with us – in a room we have over the shop – so she’d have family support until his project ended. Out of the blue, he got an amazing job offer in Europe, and they essentially had to move in like two weeks. They’ve been there ever since.”
    Huxley shared a little more information, including a picture of his niece and her family. (The girl she’d given birth to around the time I was born was her second child.)
    I bought a couple of cake pops to thank him for his time, and promised to give him a shot at my business whenever I decided to get married. I got back in my car and drove off with mixed emotions: happy that I could eliminate names from my short list, but frustrated at my lack of real progress.

Chapter 12
    “So, three strikes,” Smokey commented after I finished telling him and Li about my afterschool escapades. We were once again in Li’s room, which had seemingly become the base of operations for this particular project. Smokey had come by to find out if our labors from the night before had borne any fruit.
    “Well, those are three names that we can take off the list,” I said, “so I kind of see it as a glass half-full.”
    “Those were the
only
names on the list,” Smokey said.
    “There may be more,” Li noted, “after the rest of the data is extracted.”
    “And then we’re going to go put the tape back, right?” Smokey asked.
    I frowned but nodded. Truth be told, I wasn’t that eager to