The Great Shelby Holmes and the Coldest Case Page 12

Shelby and I quickly followed Jordan and Tatiana to the office. Once the door was closed behind us, Shelby took over.

  “Enough is enough. The time has come for us to meet the culprit face-to-face.”

  It was true: miracles could happen.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Our Thursday lunchtime conversation stopped as the guys and I looked up and saw Shelby with her lunch bag.

  She plopped down next to me before we could reply. “We have work to do.”

  “Oh,” Jason said as he rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be so good. I’ve been waiting to see you guys in action.”

  Shelby replied by looking at Jason blankly.

  “Ah, Shelby, you know Jason.” I introduced her even though she’d been going to the Academy longer than me.

  “I am already acquainted with everybody,” she stated as she waved around the table dismissively.

  The guys all stared at her. And yeah, practically the rest of the cafeteria was watching. Shelby Holmes didn’t eat lunch with other people.

  Nobody said anything. A quiet lull took over the room.

  (Okay, as much as I wanted Shelby to join us for lunch, I didn’t realize how uncomfortable it would be. Which was a little foolish of me because it was Shelby Holmes in a normal friend environment. OF COURSE it would be uncomfortable.)

  Bryant glared at Shelby. “So, as I was saying—”

  “What’s that?” John Wu asked as Shelby took out the cipher.

  “Those are cool symbols,” Carlos said as he studied them. “Very caveman. Me like ham.” He took a big bite of his sandwich.

  Bryant cleared his throat loudly. “Can we get back to—”

  “Is that the code?” John asked. He leaned in closer to look at the cipher. “That is so cool. How did you break it?”

  “The way you handle any difficult puzzle, piece by piece,” Shelby replied.

  “Oh, hey, I got this for you.” John reached into his bag and gave Shelby a bag of mini Snickers. “The Halloween candy is out. I know it’s tiny bars, but thought you’d appreciate the quantity.”

  Shelby perked up as she ripped open the bag. “I do. Smart thinking.”

  “Nice!” John held out his fist for a bump. Shelby studied his hand for a second before going back to eating her candy.

  (I mean, really, they should all know better at this point.)

  “So are we all just going to gush over her or can we talk about something else?” Bryant sulked.

  “Dude, it’s cool,” Jason replied as he pulled his locs back. “We’ve got a guest and she’s brought part of her case. I’ve been dying to hear about this.”

  “A guest? A GUEST?” Bryant stood up.

  I didn’t realize how much he really didn’t like Shelby. I knew he found her annoying and smug and his competition . . . ​But I didn’t realize he was going to be so rude in front of her.

  “Nobody is making you stay,” Shelby replied with a sniff. Although I should’ve called it that Shelby wouldn’t have a problem putting Bryant in his place.

  “Shelby,” I warned her. I didn’t want my friends to fight. “Come on, Bryant. Sit down. Shelby and I have a case to work on. We can move to another table.”

  “NO!” Jason, Carlos, and John all said at once.

  “Well, I know where I’m not wanted,” Bryant snapped before grabbing his lunch and leaving the table.

  “Bryant,” I called after him, but he walked out of the cafeteria without even a glance over his shoulder.

  “He’ll calm down,” Jason said as he got up. “I’ll go talk to him.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” I seconded. I didn’t want Bryant to be mad at us, but we only had a day left to get to the bottom of this case. Who knew what would happen if Jordan competed in regionals without knowing who was behind this.

  “You stay. Listen, good luck with your case, I can’t wait to read all about it,” Jason said before going after Bryant.

  “Are all friendships this dramatic?” Shelby asked with a roll of her eyes. “Boys.”

  Oh, yeah, boys were the ones who were dramatic. Right. If Shelby had any girlfriends she would see that boys were a cakewalk. Or, you know, she could try to be her own friend for a day.

  Girls.

  “This thing is really cool,” Carlos said. He was doodling in his sketchbook. “There are little differences, but it’s pretty intricate. I don’t know what I’m saying right now, but it looks good. Like all my work.” He reached out his hand for John to high-five, which he did as he shook his head.

  Shelby studied his ciphers. “It looks exactly like the code that person has been leaving behind. Every line and curve.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Carlos gulped nervously. “I can stop. Or do it different.”

  “No,” Shelby said. She then closed her eyes.

  Carlos and John looked around at me for an answer to what she was doing. I wasn’t sure exactly what she was thinking, but I knew she did that when she was trying to figure something out.

  John leaned toward us. “I often do that before I have to perform a big scene,” he whispered. “I train and rehearse, but as the great Stella Adler said, ‘The most important thing the actor has to work on is his mind.’ ”

  “Uh-huh,” I replied. Great. Usually John would do some Shakespeare quote or something, but now he was quoting random people? Who was Stella Adler? I blame Shelby. They’ve been spending too much time together. Why couldn’t his sense of humor rub off on her?

  Shelby opened her eyes and we all quieted down. She turned to Carlos, who immediately stopped sketching. “Ah, here,” he said as he gave her the cipher back.

  Shelby then turned to me. “Sergi has given his team tomorrow morning off so they can have a good night’s rest the day before regionals. But they do have practice this evening. So far this has been a one-sided conversation. We are going to finally reply to this knave.”

  Did this mean that we got tomorrow morning off as well? I couldn’t believe I would actually look forward to sleeping in until seven. Seven was late now! (This case had completely ruined me.)

  “And you.” She pointed to Carlos who looked like he was going to be sick. “I need you to write this down.”

  He looked back and forth at the piece of paper she gave him and the code. “You . . . ​You want my help?”

  “Well, not if you’re going to make a big deal of it,” Shelby said in a huff as she reached for the code.

  “No! I’ll do it!” Carlos lit up.

  I patted him on the back. It was always nice when Shelby admitted, even though she didn’t necessarily say it, that you had skills that were better than hers. Carlos was a great artist. He could make the code look exactly the way Shelby wanted it to.

  First, John Wu. Now, Carlos.

  Maybe Shelby would eventually be in with the guys. We could all hang out. They could help us from time to time. Although who was I kidding? Bryant would never agree to that.

  “Okay, Watson,” Shelby said as a smirk crossed her face. “It’s time we set our trap.”

  “I don’t like this at all.” Tatiana paced the small area to the side of the rink at six o’clock the following morning.

  That’s right: six in the morning. So yeah, no sleeping in for me.

  Jordan skated to the center of the rink where the only lights were illuminated. Sergi’s rink and the outskirts were completely dark.

  “You need to stay down,” Shelby said as she grabbed Tatiana by the arm and pulled her to a squatted position. “We can’t risk being seen and tipping off the culprit that we’re here. They are under the impression that they’re only meeting Jordan here to talk.”

  The rink was eerily quiet. Usually it was noisy with the sounds of skates, music, and the coaches (and Belle’s mom) shouting out orders. But now I could only hear my own breath.

  “Breathe through your nose, Watson,” Shelby scolded.

  “What exactly did note say?” Tatiana asked before Shelby cut her off with a look. It was too dark for m
e to see Shelby’s exact expression, but it was Shelby, so most likely it was a displeased one.

  Yesterday after school, we snuck in before their evening practice and left a note taped to Sergi’s office wall: You win. Meet me on the ice. Six a.m. Unless scared.

  Shelby thought it would be best not only to make the person think that Jordan was giving up skating, but to taunt them into coming. They kept saying mean things about Jordan, so it was time the favor was somewhat returned.

  Jordan was alone on center ice, her arms folded. She tried to pretend she wasn’t scared, but her body language betrayed her: rapid blinking and cracking of knuckles. Shelby originally wanted to put a wig on and pretend to be Jordan, but Jordan had about eight inches on Shelby in height and muscular legs. Shelby’s skinny legs looked like my arms.

  We waited in silence. Maybe the person didn’t see the note? Maybe they wouldn’t come?

  But the question that kept popping into my head was the most important one: Who did it? Who was this person?

  My money was on Douglas. Or Sergi. They had the most to gain if Jordan didn’t compete. Douglas would prove that Jordan was better off with him, while Sergi would get revenge on Tatiana and help his skater, Aisha, win.

  Hmmm. The scale was currently tipping toward Sergi.

  Plus, we didn’t really know much about Sergi.

  Although let’s be honest: it seemed to tip in different directions every few minutes. But for now, Sergi. Yes, definitely Sergi.

  Or Douglas.

  The door to the rink opened with a creak. We heard the sound of footsteps.

  Someone was here.

  Jordan turned toward the door. She had been instructed not to leave the center, no matter what. We were only twenty feet away from the entrance so we could get to the person before they could do anything to Jordan.

  Unless they had skates on and jumped into the rink before we could stop them. But Jordan was fast on her skates.

  (Maybe this was a bad plan.)

  A voice cut through the quiet. “So you wanted to meet.”

  It was a woman’s voice. A deep voice. I didn’t recognize it.

  Maybe it was Belle’s mom?

  “Why don’t you show your face?” Jordan said.

  “I’m not stupid,” the voice replied.

  You know, the voice sounded strained. Like the woman was trying to mask her voice. That was why she wasn’t coming forward into the light. I maneuvered slightly to see if I could get a look. She was wearing a hoodie that was covering her face. But she was petite. Although every figure skater seemed to be tiny.

  My stomach plunged. What if it was Aisha? If she was diabolical enough to be doing this, she would’ve known to hide her handwriting in the cipher she sent me. And she did have the most to lose.

  Oh, Watson, you’re such a fool.

  Jordan started skating in a small circle. “I’m not surprised you’re a coward. You had to hide behind a code instead of saying something to my face.” Jordan kept to the script that Shelby had written for her in an effort to draw the person out. Because, of course, Shelby foresaw that we might be in the exact scenario we were in.

  John Wu even helped Shelby with the script. They took inspiration from some play. I had to go in and tone it down a bit as one of their suggested lines was, “Alas, I thought I knew thee well.” (Why I had to tell them no normal person talked like that was beyond me.)

  I turned to look at Shelby but she was gone. Like she vanished. Tatiana shrugged her shoulders in response. Where did she go?

  Suddenly the main lights flooded the entire rink. I had to shield my eyes for a second to get them adjusted to the bright light. I looked over at the woman who was doing the same thing. Then she put her arms down, and I got a good look at her face.

  It wasn’t Aisha.

  It wasn’t Belle’s mom.

  It was Belle.

  Belle?!?!

  Sure, we knew she had the code, but she was so sweet and quiet.

  Shelby stepped behind Belle and blocked her exit. “Start talking.”

  Belle blinked a few times. “Oh, hello.” She returned her voice to its natural high tone. “I’m simply here for practice. How are you, Roberta? You look . . . ​different today.”

  Shelby’s hair was its usual mess and she was wearing her Academy polo and baggy jeans. She didn’t feel the need to play the part anymore. “That’s because this is the real me. And my name isn’t Roberta, it’s Shelby Holmes. Detective Shelby Holmes.”

  Belle’s eyes got wide, but it wasn’t from shock. She was playing up the whole innocent bit. I wasn’t buying it. “A detective? Oh my goodness, what on earth is going on? You mean you and Julian aren’t skaters?”

  Oh, come on. Nobody could really believe that Shelby and I were skaters. I guess Belle was a good actress. Because she was playing the naive part really well.

  Jordan skated over to the side. Tatiana and I walked toward Belle and Shelby.

  “Good morning,” Belle replied to us in her usual sunny way, as she removed her hood. “Everybody ready for a great skate today?”

  Shelby started circling Belle. “You’re here for practice?”

  “Why, of course. Sergi said it was optional, but I wanted to get in another skate before tomorrow.”

  “Then where is Sergi? Or Douglas?”

  “I’m here by myself. I have a few elements to work on.”

  Shelby stopped in front of Belle, an impatient expression on her face. “And then where, pray tell, are your skates?”

  “Oh, I—I—” Belle stuttered. She took a deep breath and continued, “I have them in the locker room. I came out here to stretch first.”

  Jordan opened up the gate to the rink and stalked over to Belle. “How could you do this to me? We know it was you who was sending me those notes. And put something in my water. And messed up my skates. Why? WHY?”

  Yeah, WHY?

  “I’ve been nothing but nice and supportive to you,” Jordan continued. “When you first came here, I took you out and told you all about being Douglas’s partner and working with Sergi. I was helping you and this is how you repay me?”

  Belle was frozen for a moment before her innocent expression turned to hate. “Oh yes, you are just SO perfect. Perfect Jordan who can skate perfect and was the perfect partner!” She stomped her foot. “I’m so sick of hearing about you!”

  Okay, Belle was not this sweet and nice person. She was angry. And a little scary.

  Tatiana stepped forward. “Now, Belle—”

  “NO!” Belle screamed. “I never get to talk. My mom talks over me all the time. Belle, do this. Belle, wear that. Belle, change your hair so you can look just like Jordan. Well, not anymore. I’m going to talk and you can’t shut me up.”

  “So talk,” Shelby said. She looked like she was enjoying this. I guess it was good we didn’t have to interrogate her or anything because she was telling us all we needed to know.

  “I just had it. All day at practice I hear from Sergi and Douglas about how Jordan used to do something and how I needed to be more like Jordan. And then at home Mom just keeps going on and on about how perfect Jordan was at practice that day.” She turned toward Jordan. “All I wanted was to skate without you being around. To be Belle and not simply a replacement for you. One that was never going to be good enough. I thought if I sent you some notes you’d go away for a bit. Or change your practice times. I didn’t want to hurt you, but you weren’t getting the hints. I’ve always done what’s right and what’s expected of me. I’m done. DONE. What about what I want? Huh?”

  Tatiana looked sad. “Do you not want to skate?”

  “No,” Shelby replied. “She wants to be the best.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Belle snapped.

  “How dare you?” Jordan stepped forward, but I held my arm out to block her. Which wasn’t easy, because she was strong. “You tried to ruin me.”

  “You look fine to me,” Belle replied with a smirk. “Too bad.”

/>   “Okay, okay,” Shelby said as she stepped between them. “Jordan, you can go back to skating and get ready for tomorrow. I’ll examine your equipment to confirm it’s safe. You won’t be getting any more notes. Focus on tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to win.” Jordan narrowed her eyes at Belle. “Pity I can’t say the same for Douglas. He’s had such a difficult time finding a competent partner.”

  With that she flipped her ponytail and went back to the skating rink with Tatiana behind her.

  Belle looked blankly at Shelby. “So what now? Are you going to tell the US Figure Skating Association?”

  “Worse,” Shelby replied.

  For the first time since we caught her, Belle looked worried.

  I would be, too. What was worse than letting the skating authorities know about this?

  “You can come out now,” Shelby shouted.

  “You called the cops!” Belle shrieked.

  Shelby laughed. “What did I tell you? Worse.”

  Worse than the cops?

  I was confused until I saw who Shelby was talking to.

  Stepping out from behind the benches was Belle’s mom.

  Uh-oh.

  Hold up.

  Just.

  Hold.

  Up.

  What was Mrs. Booth doing here?

  Before I could ask Shelby, Mrs. Booth marched over to her daughter. Her face was bright red. “I can’t believe this, Belle. How could you do this to another person? You’ve ruined everything we’ve worked so hard for!”

  “But you never listen to me!” Belle shouted.

  Mrs. Booth looked like steam was about to come out of her ears. “Well, your wish is granted. We’re going to your father’s office right now to have a nice long conversation about this.”

  “But—”

  “Not another word until we see your father,” Belle’s mom said in a tone that I don’t think anybody would mess with. “Now get in the car.”

  Belle stomped off.

  Shelby was not exaggerating when she said Mrs. Booth was worse than the cops and figure skating officials.

  I would not want to be Belle right now. Not like she didn’t deserve it.