Top Ten Clues You’re Clueless (16 page)

“You”—he points at me with his noncup hand—“had a mental breakdown over putting a
ding in someone’s car because you can’t figure out how to flirt like a normal human
being. And you”—he points at Tyson—“you’re so normal, you’re obviously sick in the
head.”

My heart pounds in my ears. He didn’t say Tyson’s name, but you’d have to be an idiot
not to know what he’s talking about. My head is going to burst into flames. But I
all I manage to whisper is, “Shut up, Gabe.”

“Oh, please,” Sammi says, insisting with her fake cup, “get in this thing already.”

“What the hell,” Tyson mutters, and lifts his own hand.

“Woo-hoo!” Gabe hollers.

“Come on, Chloe.” It’s Zaina who prods me, to my surprise. “Don’t be the only one.”

I can’t move. It doesn’t matter what the others are doing. It doesn’t even matter
what I might want to do. My body has a plan of its own, and that plan is to play possum.

Tyson turns, facing me, though his hand is still lifted to the center with the others’.
“You too,” he says.

I slowly raise my eyes to his, feeling like my nerves might rattle themselves clear
of my skin any second.

He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.
This is so embarrassing.

But he smiles softly, and reaches for my arm with his free hand. When he catches my
wrist, my paralysis is finally broken, and I let him bring my hand up to the group.

Gabe cheers again, echoed this time by Sammi and then Micah and even Zaina.

“Clink,” Tyson says. A chorus of clinks moves through the group and then I let my
body sag back into my chair. I still can’t bear to look at Tyson. Yet every nanosecond,
his presence seems to grow bigger. He is somehow getting larger and larger, and putting
off more heat the longer I sit with my pulse pounding in my ears.

I don’t know if it’s been a few seconds or an hour of this agony when the main door
opens and Kris comes in, followed by Mr. Solomon, and two police officers in uniform,
their radios squawking.

I’ve never been so happy to see authority figures in my life.

Chapter 20

TRUTHS ABOUT PEOPLE AND COPS

1. Even downright nasty people can suddenly become slavering dogs when there is an
officer of the law present.

2. You can suddenly remember every detail of driver’s ed when you see a squad car
in your rearview mirror.

3. Most people speak at least one octave higher than usual when talking to a cop.

4. Every single thing you’ve ever done wrong comes screaming back to you the minute
a cop makes eye contact with you.

The officers, Reyes and Harper, put me on edge, even though I know I didn’t steal
the money. My mind insists on replaying the accident in the parking lot, convinced
that they’ll somehow know about it.

Incidentally, we got a call from one of your customers earlier today. Someone completely
destroyed her car in your parking lot. As long as we were already coming, we figured
we’d arrest the guilty party. And it just so happens we know it was you, Chloe Novak!
You have the right to remain silent. . . .

Mr. Solomon thanks the officers for coming out on Christmas Eve and goes on about
how hard it must be to be on duty on the holiday. Sammi snorts softly at that one,
and for once I have to agree with her assessment. Awfully nice of him to be so concerned
about the cops when he’s been holding six teenagers hostage.

Officer Reyes, a smallish woman with little enamel earrings shaped like Christmas
presents, seems to be in charge of the pair. She does most of the talking anyway,
while Harper, a big, young guy whose shoes are weirdly shiny for the middle of winter,
scribbles things in a notebook.

They want to hear the details of what happened, and they are particularly interested
in the fact that Mr. Solomon can’t be exactly sure how much money was stolen. Reyes
seems downright annoyed by that, actually.

Thinking about it again, the facts do seem more than a little vague.

Fact: The charity box had been sitting on the Customer Service desk, locked, since
the day after Halloween.

Fact: The other boxes at the other GoodFoods stores had a lot more money than our
box did.

Fact: Zaina could testify to putting in a twenty-dollar bill each time she worked,
but there was no proof other than the video of her putting money in today.

Fact: Inside the box today, there was only one twenty-dollar bill.

Fact: The security tapes of the store, which delete automatically after forty-eight
hours, showed at least twenty people at the Customer Service desk making movements
that suggested they’d put money in, including Zaina.

Fact: The lock was undamaged and only Mr. Solomon had the key.

That’s literally all we know. Everything else is guesswork.

“So, let me get this straight,” Reyes says. “You
think
people put money into the box, but you can’t be sure due to the angle of the camera.”

“But I did,” Zaina says. “Every time.”

“And you say it was always a twenty-dollar bill.”

“Yes.”

“And you put these twenties in how many times?”

“I’m not sure,” she says. “I think it was about twenty?”

“I estimated four hundred dollars,” Micah pipes up.

Reyes ignores him. “And there was only one twenty-dollar bill in there when you unlocked
it today.”

Mr. Solomon nods. “I can show you the money.”

“Sure. Let’s take a look,” she says. She follows Solomon into the manager’s office.

I’m starting to doubt we’ll be getting out of here quickly after all.

The radio on Harper’s shoulder crackles with static, and we catch a few garbled words
before he turns the volume down.

“Can you really make us get fingerprinted?” Sammi asks him.

He shifts his feet. “Not unless we arrest you.”

“Are you going to arrest us?” she asks.

“Only if you did something illegal.”

She nods. “Just checking.”

“What do you care?” Gabe whispers to her. “I thought they already have your prints.”

“You gotta know your rights,” she says solemnly. “Fight the man.”

Harper chuckles.

Kris clears his throat. “What if someone’s fingerprints
are
found on the box?” he asks. “I mean, couldn’t they have touched it sometime in the
last two months?”

“And aren’t there, like, a million fingerprints all over money?” Sammi adds.

“Not exactly a million,” Harper says.

“Still.”

“We’ll see what happens,” he says.

The office door opens again and Reyes leads the way out. Solomon is behind her, carrying
the oversized donation box.

“Miss Malak?” Reyes looks at Zaina. “Can you describe the money you put in the box?”

“What?” Tyson says softly, barely loud enough for me to hear. “It’s a twenty-dollar
bill.”

Zaina swallows. “It was new,” she says. “My mother always gets them from the bank
so she can put a stamp of the
hamsa
on it as a blessing.” She lays her hand on the table, palm up with her thumb curving
out stiffly. It’s a weird gesture—very unnatural.

“Could you identify it?” Reyes gestures for Solomon to open the box. When he grabs
the lock to fit the key in, my heart leaps. Now there’s no way my fingerprints will
be the only ones on the casing! I want to do a victory dance.

He slips the padlock out of the clasp and lets it fall open, showing us the small
collection of bills once more.

Zaina reaches out and uses one fingertip to knock a few other bills away from the
crisp twenty. She coaxes it closer and, touching it as little as possible, flips it
over to reveal a blue stamp in one of the emptier fields. It’s a stylized hand with
the middle three fingers straight together, and the thumb and pinkie curling out to
the sides. It’s beautiful, ornately decorated with flowers and scrolling lines.

“This is mine,” she says. “All of them had this stamp on them.”

“It’s illegal to mark US currency,” Micah says.

“Hush.” Sammi gives him the stink eye.

“This is yours?” Reyes repeats.

Zaina nods. “Yes. Each one of the bills I put in had this mark on it.”

“Does your mom do that with all her money?” I ask, leaning forward to look at the
bill.

“Only for special reasons. Why?”

“I feel like I’ve seen this before. . . .” I squint, then close my eyes completely,
willing my memory to suddenly become a perfect computer catalog of every bill I’ve
ever seen. It’s not easy, considering how much cash has passed through my hands since
I started working the register. Not to mention I’m not a human computer.

I rub my fingertips together, trying to imagine a marked bill between them. We check
new twenties for signs of authenticity. I would have paid attention to a crisp one
like Zaina’s describing.

The image tickles at the edge of my mind, but I can’t grab it. I open my eyes, frustrated.

Kris stands. “Can I use the bathroom?” he asks.

“You’re not under arrest,” Reyes says with a smirk.

“Well, then . . . excuse me. Nature calls.” He gives an embarrassed smile, and heads
for the door.

Everyone is fixated on the small blue stamp before us, like it holds the secrets to
the universe.

Reyes sighs. “All right. Thank you. I guess we can go ahead and get a set of fingerprints
from each of you, with your permission.”

“Do we get to go home after you do that?” Gabe asks.

She nods. “Eventually.”

“Whatever. Great. Take my prints. I don’t even care.” He holds his hands out in offering.

“Mine, too.” I sigh, wishing I could have solved this before they arrived.

“You can take mine, too,” Tyson agrees.

“Mine are already on this bill,” Zaina says. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“We’ll compare them to any we find on the interior of the box and the padlock. We
can’t arrest you for handling your own money.”

“Then you can take mine, too.”

Sammi sighs. “You already have mine.”

“You can take mine again. I was just a kid last time I had them done,” Micah says.
“I didn’t touch the box, though.”

“Harper, why don’t you start on that end—” Reyes points to me. “Mr. Solomon, we’ll
need to get a set from you, too, for elimination.”

“Absolutely. Anything you need.”

“I have to warn you, we can’t make any promises,” she says. “There might not be any
useable prints on any of this stuff.”

“What if that happens?”

Reyes props her hands on her belt. “Unfortunately, a lot of crimes like this go unsolved.”

Officer Harper approaches me with a small white card in his hand. “I’m going to have
you press your fingers on this—”

“Oh my God, Kris had one of your bills!” I shout, jumping to my feet. I nearly head
butt the officer in the process, but I can’t stop to worry about that.

“What?” The response comes from several people at once.

“Kris! Earlier! I saw him!” My hands jitter wildly in the air without my permission.
“He had one of the things! Those! I saw it!”

“What are you saying?” Mr. Solomon asks.

I stumble over a few nonsensical syllables before spitting out, “Kris did it!”

They’re staring at me in disbelief.

“I’m telling you!” I insist. “He had one of Zaina’s twenties. In his wallet! When
he paid for the food we took!”

“Who is Kris again?” Reyes asks.

“The guy who just walked out of here.” Tyson points.

We turn as one, like a cartoon, looking at the exit.

“Harper,” Reyes says, and without a word, Officer Harper jogs out. Reyes follows and
we all watch the door swing shut behind her.

“Are you sure about this?” Gabe asks.

“Completely sure!” I shout. My volume control seems to be on the fritz. I’ve never
been so excited in my life.

“There must be some explanation. . . .” Mr. Solomon is talking to himself, I guess,
because he’s already walking out the door.

We look at one another for a second, then all scramble after him.

Out in the store, Officer Reyes is near the main entrance, talking into her radio,
and Solomon stands nearby with his hand pressed to his forehead.

“Where did he go?” I whisper.

“Where’s Harper?” Tyson wonders.

“Bathroom?” Micah asks.

Gabe jogs off in that direction, and listens at the door to the men’s room for a second
before opening it. Even from a distance I can see the motion sensor light go on. No
one else could be inside if the lights were off. Gabe shakes his head at us.

“I bet he went out the back,” Tyson reasons. “That’s where most of the employees park.”

“That’s probably where Officer Harper went, too,” Zaina says.

“Come on.” Gabe takes off again, this time running toward the frozen foods. The cases
have gone dark again, but they flare to life as he passes them.

“Gabe!” Sammi hisses, running after him. “Don’t!”

“That idiot’s going to get himself hurt,” Tyson says, but he takes off in the same
direction.

I look at Zaina and Micah. “Well?”

“Let’s go.” Micah weaves through two checkouts and breaks into an all-out sprint toward
the lighted path left behind by the others.

“This is not very smart,” Zaina says as we both scurry after them.

“Nope,” I agree.

“Why are we doing this?”

I try to shrug, but it’s not very successful when you’re running. “I don’t know.”

“All right.”

We’re both a little out of breath by the time we get to the back of the store—surprise,
surprise. The entrance to the warehouse area is between cottage cheese and pork, and
the double silver doors are still swinging. Not hard to tell where the others went.

I push one door open, getting a face full of cold, damp air. Zaina crowds close behind
me, peeping around my shoulder.

“Where are they?” she says in a barely audible voice.

“I don’t know.” I listen, but the drone of the cooling units makes it hard to zero
in on anything.

“Maybe by the loading dock,” Zaina whispers.

We creep into the big, dimly lit room, close together for security. The dark shapes
of dairy carts, shipping crates, and pallets make shadows and blind spots everywhere.
Walking toward them feels dangerous and stupid.

“Do you really think Kris stole the money?” she asks.

“I’m pretty sure.”

“But you could be wrong,” she says.

“Then where is he?” I ask.

“Good point.”

As we round a row of carts loaded with milk, I spot Sammi’s blond hair lit against
the general dimness of the room. She’s hunkered down behind a large produce crate
filled with flattened boxes. I put a hand out to still Zaina and we both drop into
a crouch.

I try to duckwalk forward, but in the end I have to put my fingers on the ground and
creep like some kind of woodland creature just learning to walk. I’m definitely not
ready for a life as a ninja. Sammi turns when she hears our footsteps and holds a
finger to her lips.

Zaina and I close the distance to her. She beckons me closer still and whispers in
my ear, so soft I have to strain to hear.

“Kris is in here,” she says.

I put my mouth to her ear. “Where is everyone else?”

“The cop is by the back door. The boys are—” She points in both directions away from
us.

I relay the information to Zaina, her dark hair tickling my nose as I breathe the
words into her ear. She goes wide-eyed.

“What are we going to do?” she asks.

Sammi shakes her head.

A movement to my right catches my eye and I get a glimpse of Tyson sliding between
two pallets.

“Where exactly is Kris?” I ask.

Sammi points at the crate we’re crouched behind.
Two over
, she mouths.
I think
.

I feel strangely calm, even though my heart is racing. It’s like my vision becomes
clearer, my hearing sharper.

To our left, something metallic clangs and I hear a soft curse. If I had to guess,
I would say it was Gabe, but I can’t be sure. Then, straight through the crate, I
hear shuffling sounds. Zaina grips my arm tightly.