Free Harper Madigan: Junior High Private Eye by Chelsea M. Campbell Page A

Veronica practicing her solo like she thought she was at the grand opera or something. Then I heard her scream bloody murder, and…” She pauses, trying to remember the details. “There might have been footsteps, running away from the stage, but I was focused on Veronica. It all happened so fast, and I jumped down in front of the stage to see if she was okay, and then when I looked up…” She shrugs. “Whoever it was, they were gone already.”
    I nod. “Then I’m going to ask you the same question I’ve asked everyone who thinks you’re guilty. If nobody saw who it was , how do you know who did it? Or in this case, who didn’t ?”
    Danigail swallows and stares at her feet. She picks at a string hanging from the hem of her sweatshirt. There’s a moment where I think she’s going to argue with me, but then she doesn’t, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I guess I don’t .”
    “That’s what I thought.”

Chapter 10
     
    “Are all our clients this uncooperative?” Austin asks the next morning before school. He’s talking about Danigail.
    “ My clients.” I grit my teeth in annoyance and focus on the task at hand. We’re tailing Connor Mills, trying to blend in and keeping at a distance so he doesn’t see us. Right now he’s down the hall, leaning against his locker, chumming it up with some of his friends. Right now he could be anybody, all innocent-like. “And no,” I add, answering Austin’s question, “not all of them.” Just the non-paying ones who also have the most to lose.
    “Because it seems to me that we wouldn’t be back looking for this lost pencil if our real case hadn’t hit a dead end. And because of our own client, no less.” He tries to give me this real knowing look, like we’re good pals who understand each other, but it just comes off as phony. Probably because we’re not, we don’t, and it is .
    My fingers clench against my palms. If there was ever a time I needed to do some serious cucumber channeling, it’s now, because it’s really hard to keep your cool when all you feel is rage. “Let’s get something straight, Phelps. This? This is our real case. Maybe it’s not newsworthy to you, but Eugene’s whole life is turned upside down because of this. That makes it important, even if it doesn’t make the paper.”
    “It’s a pencil. Danigail Bates is going to get kicked out of school and be on the cover of the paper if you don’t solve her case. This doesn’t compare.”
    There are so many things wrong with what he just said, I don’t even know where to start. “Oh, so when we’re talking about solving it, suddenly you drop the ’we?’” I shake my head, hoping he catches how disappointed I am in him. Not that my expectations were all that high. Or, you know, existent. “And Eugene’s going to be in deep waters if he keeps failing his tests because of this. Whether it’s really a lucky pencil or not, it’s affecting him. It’s throwing him off his game. And , last but not least, what do you mean Danigail’s going to be on the cover of the paper? You’re taking care of that, Phelps. Don’t even think of telling me otherwise.”
    He glances down at his shoes, suddenly real interested in the pattern in the floor tiles. “I’m working on it,” he says.
    “Working on it?” I don’t like the sound of that, not one bit. “Phelps. We had a deal. ’Working on it’ isn’t exactly keeping up your end. So, when I ask what do you mean, Danigail’s going to be on the cover of the paper, understand that there’s a right answer and a wrong answer. I think you can guess which is which, and I think you know what to—”
    A flash of movement up ahead steals my attention. I cut myself off in mid spiel, catching a glimpse of Connor Mills taking a green pencil out of his bag. That’s all I can tell about it from here, but I’d bet everything I own that it’s got shiny four leaf clovers all over it.
    “Come on.” I don’t look behind me to see if