Free Singing in Seattle by Tracey West Page B

quiet.”
    â€œListen, I—” Heather began. But then the angry look on her face faded. “I . . . I shouldn’t have gotten messed up in all of this. I was upset. You’ll have to talk to Josh.”
    â€œWe will,” Aly said. “And I think you’d better come with us.”
    Heather reluctantly followed them backstage. Claire looked up, her face pale and nervous, when she saw them.
    â€œAre you going to tell us who won?” she asked.
    â€œNot yet,” AJ said. “We have something to straighten out first. One of you is going to be disqualified—for cheating.”
    Claire let out a gasp. Josh’s face looked bright red. And Austin looked perplexed.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” he asked. “Not the notebook again!”
    â€œYes,” Aly said. “We know who took it. It was Josh!”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” Josh said coolly.
    AJ began to pace back and forth across the room. “You saw Claire’s open guitar case the night of the first round,” she said, ignoring his protest. “You knew Claire was a favorite to win the contest. So you stole the notebook. You thought you would shake her, maybe even make her quit.”
    â€œBut you didn’t,” Aly jumped in. “Claire did even better in the second round. You knew we were looking for the notebook. So you returned it. And you decided to sabotage Austin next.”
    â€œYou loosened the screws on Austin’s guitar,” AJ said.
    Josh shook his head. “You guys have no proof,” he said.
    â€œBut we do,” Aly said. She held up the lyrics sheet for his song. “We knew it was you when we saw your lyric—‘the purple mist of morning.’”
    â€œHey, that’s my lyric,” Claire said.
    â€œExactly,” AJ said. “Josh must have seen the words in your notebook and used them himself.”
    Josh’s face was starting to turn red again. “How do you know Claire didn’t steal the lyric from me?”
    â€œFor a couple of reasons,” AJ began. “Number one, Claire’s favorite color is purple. Number two, that’s a really cool lyric—something that Claire would write, not you. And—”
    â€œNumber three, we have a witness,” Aly interrupted. “Heather saw you put the notebook back in Claire’s case.”
    Heather looked down at her boots again.
    Then Jim stepped between them. He held Josh’s leather jacket in his hand. “And something tells me if someone were to check your pocket, they’d find a screwdriver there—a screwdriver that fits the screws of Austin’s guitar.”
    â€œAll right! All right!” Josh cried out. “Obviously I can’t win here. I did it. I stole Claire’s notebook. I messed up Austin’s guitar.”
    Aly and AJ grinned at each other.
    Josh ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, sinking down into a chair. “I just wanted to win this so badly. I knew I didn’t have as much of a chance as some of these other guys. And Claire’s notebook was out in the open . . . I just grabbed it. I didn’t even think. I thought maybe I could get some inspiration from it.”
    Aly frowned. “Like the ‘purple mist of morning’?”
    Josh shook his head. “Honestly, I didn’t steal that on purpose. I must have read it and it got stuck in my head . . . I thought it was mine.” He looked like he was going to cry. “I can’t believe I blew my one chance.”
    Jim walked up to Josh and gently lifted him up. “Let’s get out of here,” he stated. “We don’t have to mention anything about this until the contest is over.”
    The sisters nodded. A cheating scandal would ruin a happy moment for the other two finalists.
    â€œSo does that mean the contest is over?” Claire asked.
    â€œNot yet,” AJ