Free Sleuth on Skates by Clementine Beauvais Page B

your most devoted fan. I even enrolled in the orchestra to be able to stare at you every evening.”
    â€œNo!” exclaimed Toby dramatically, “
I
am your most . . . er . . .” And then he couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he went silent. Stacy looked at us, and then around us, as if we were accompanied by invisible parents.
    â€œCan we come in?” I asked.
    She nodded. “I guess so. Tea?”
    â€œYes please.”
    We walked into a very well-kept room with a lot of white in it, and sat down on a muslin-covered bed, waiting politely until Stacy had boiled the kettle.
    â€œSo what brings you here?” she asked, pouring the water into a few mugs.
    Gemma got the program out, and Stacy signed it benevolently. While she was doing this, I muttered to Gemma and Toby, “Good cop, bad cop, fun cop!”
    Gemma said, “Well, Stacy, I admire you so much. I admire your name. Anastasia . . . it sounds a bit like a Russian princess!”
    â€œIn fact,” I added threateningly, “it’s the name of a Tsarina. And one who’s witnessed some seriously illegal activity and won’t tell anyone about it. We’ve got you cornered!”
    Smash!
    â€œOh, I don’t like this good cop, bad cop, fun cop thing, Sesame,” said Toby. “You made her break her mug. There’s no way I can be fun after that.”

    Stacy started shivering so much I thought she was going to shatter in millions of pieces. “What’s all this about?” she asked. “How the hell do you know about Tsarina?”
    â€œWe just overheard a conversation.”
    â€œWho?” she questioned anxiously.
    â€œDoesn’t matter. They don’t know. We figured it out on our own.”
    â€œI don’t know what you heard,” she said, “but it’s simply wrong. I was wrong. Tsarina was wrong. There was nothing going on.”
    â€œNothing going on where?”
    â€œAt the department. Nothing wrong with any software.”
    â€œWhat software?”
    â€œWait a minute. What do you know?”
    I thought carefully. And then I gave it my best shot.
    â€œWe know,” I said, “that you found out something illegal was going on at the computer science department. Something affecting everyone in this university. The normal thing todo would have been to alert Professor Archie Philips, who’s a computer scientist in your college. But you couldn’t, because you knew that he was involved in it. You told Jenna Jenkins, who started to investigate the case, and because of that she disappeared. So you started telling Reverend Tan, but the Internet crashed before you could finish. And then,” I concluded, “for some reason, you didn’t tell anyone else. Maybe because you were afraid that you might disappear as well—just like Jenna.”
    Stacy’s big blue eyes were staring past me, at the door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she articulated. “I was wrong. I thought I’d discovered something, but it turned out to be nothing. I might have told Jenna, but—there was no reason to—to investigate anything.”
    â€œWhy are you looking at the door?” asked Gemma, and just then the door opened, and Edwin appeared, his brow as knitted as his ugly jumper. He looked at the three of us, and if looks could zap someone to the other side of the solar system, I’d currently be writing thison the chilly side of Pluto. I wondered why he’d come in just to glare at us, especially as it seemed like the only thing he wanted to say was, “Everything all right, Stace?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” she said.
    â€œDo you know these kids?”
    â€œWe’re getting to know each other.”
    He sat down on the floor next to us. “Good,” he said. “You should drop by later to try on the adjusted wings, Stacy. They’re such good