“Yes,” Mollie assured her. She turned to Mr. Hughes. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Derek Hughes frowned. “I know you mean well, but it’s best if you don’t meddle,” he said. “Now if you kids don’t mind, I have to get back to the office. I’m very busy.”

  “At least tell us if there is any hope,” Roberta said.

  “Well, Detective Benjamin did offer us a plea bargain,” Mr. Hughes said.

  “He did?” Meredith asked.

  “Yes. He’s offered to drop the charges if you tell the police who you got the drugs from.”

  “But I didn’t get the drugs from anyone,” Meredith protested. “Someone put them in my bag. Daddy, don’t you believe me?”

  Derek Hughes’s expression softened a little. “Yes, of course I do. I told Benjamin to forget about it. However, as your lawyer, I’m obligated to mention the offer to you.” He shook his head. “Meredith, I don’t know if I should be handling your case. I’m too upset to do a good job.”

  “Daddy, you have to,” Meredith said. “If anyone can prove I’m innocent, you can.”

  “Thanks for the confidence.” Derek Hughes eyed the reporters in the hallway. “Let’s get out of here before they descend on us again.”

  “Okay.” Meredith let herself be led away by her father. “I’ll see you guys later,” she called back.

  “Yeah, later,” Mollie said.

  “What do you think of him?” Jaime asked once Meredith and her father were gone. “Wasn’t he acting nervous?”

  “Sure, but I’d be nervous, too, in his shoes,” Roberta said.

  “You’d look pretty funny in wing tips,” Sherman added.

  Roberta frowned at him. “The prosecution sure has a lot of incriminating evidence,” she said to Mollie, as they walked out of the courthouse.

  “All bogus, remember,” Mollie said.

  “Look, there’s Chelios,” Sherman said, pointing across the street where Johnny’s Chrysler was parked. Johnny was sitting on the hood, his eyes shaded by sunglasses. “The Eternal Cool One.”

  They walked over to him. “Hey, why didn’t you come in?” Mollie asked.

  “I don’t get along with courthouses too well,” Johnny said. “So what happened?”

  “They set the trial for six weeks from tomorrow,” Roberta said.

  “Ouch,” Johnny said. “Well, I spent the day trolling for info. I think I talked to every lowlife in Bayside.”

  “And did your friends know anything?” Mollie asked.

  “Good one,” Sherman said.

  “Are you clowns done?” Johnny asked. “As I was saying, everyone’s being super careful. That bust scared a lot of people. I mean, if someone as innocent looking as Meredith can get nabbed, then these guys have a lot to worry about.”

  “It does seem pretty convenient,” Roberta said. “The way they were waiting for her, and all.”

  “They must have seen the stuff in X-ray,” Sherman said, “and figured out she wasn’t carrying a couple of ounces of white flour back home.”

  “This whole thing makes no sense,” Mollie cried. “She says she didn’t do it, but who in the world would have set her up—in New York? She doesn’t even know anyone there.”

  “Except her sister,” Jaime pointed out.

  “Sounds wacked, but it could be her,” Johnny said. “From what you said, Meredith’s sister is no angel.”

  “Hey, I want to head over to the Truth Line,” Mollie said. “I haven’t manned the phones in a couple of days, and I want to hear what people are talking about. Why don’t you guys come over to my house tonight?”

  “For a fun-filled family evening?” Johnny kicked a pebble with his black boot. “I’ll pass.”

  “My parents are going out to dinner, and my brother and sister are going over to my aunt’s,” Mollie explained.

  “Well, in that case, I’ll be over at eight,” Johnny said.

  “I’ll pick up some pizzas at Artie’s,” Sherman said. “Which reminds me, we didn’t hear anything good the other night, except that Chucky Duva wants to go out with you, Roberta.”

  Roberta grimaced. “You’re joking.” Chucky was Bayside High’s biggest thug, complete with a tattooed right arm and a head as thick as a tire from a monster truck—his vehicle of choice.

  “I’d better take off,” Mollie said. “See you all tonight.”

  “Does he really want to go out with me?” Roberta asked, as Mollie walked over to her Jeep.

  “Yeah, he thinks you’re better looking than his last girlfriend,” Jaime said.

  “You mean Angela Carbajal?” Roberta asked.

  “No, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark,” Sherman said, and he and Jaime cracked up.

  Mollie had been monitoring the Truth Line for about an hour when the call came in. The three topics everyone had been talking about that afternoon were: the chances of another earthquake hitting Bayside, the new school rule about “objectional behavior in study hall,” and Meredith Hughes.

  “I say she got what was coming to her,” one girl said. “She thinks she’s better than anyone else in this town. I’m glad she got caught. She’s probably been getting away with it for a long time.”

  Mollie sighed. Why did everyone hate Meredith so much? Sure, she was a little standoffish, but it was just because she was shy.

  Another call came in, and Mollie pressed the button to add the caller to the open line. “Don’t be so cruel,” the new female voice said.

  “Why not?” the first girl retorted.

  “Because …” The new caller’s voice trembled. “You don’t know what’s going on. You don’t understand.”

  “What’s to understand?” someone else asked. “She got nailed.”

  “But she’s innocent!” the caller pleaded. Then she hung up.

  Mollie stared at the speaker phone. There was no question in her mind. The caller had been Meredith.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Pizza, anyone?” Sherman dropped two large pizza boxes on the coffee table in Mollie’s living room.

  “What took you so long?” Jaime complained.

  “I got caught in traffic—behind the guy who delivers for Artie’s,” Sherman said. It was a long-standing joke that anyone could make a pizza faster than they could get it delivered from Artois Pizza.

  “Here are plates and napkins,” Mollie said. “Dig in.”

  “Who needs plates?” said Roberta. “We ate tropical fish right out of the tank during the earthquake. I think we can manage to eat pizza with our hands.”

  Johnny cracked open a can of cola. “Here’s to finding out that Meredith is innocent.”

  Everyone drank to the toast, then started to wolf down pizza. Only Mollie didn’t touch her slice. She was too busy thinking.

  “Okay, Fox, what is it?” Johnny asked after a minute.

  Mollie smiled. Johnny had her figured out pretty well. “I want to find out more about this DeDario guy,” Mollie said. “I don’t think he’s exactly on the up-and-up.”

  “No kidding!” Roberta wiped her mouth with a napkin. “He’s not even on the ‘up.’”

  “Yeah, but it makes his agency look bad when Meredith gets nabbed on her way back from his shoot,” Jaime pointed out.

  “Why do they call it a shoot, anyway?” Sherman said. “It sounds like deer season.”

  “Open hunting season is more like it,” Mollie said, “especially with a guy like DeDario around. He probably hits on each of his models at least twice a day.”

  “Twice an hour,” Roberta added. “He actually invited us to go out on his boat with him. What does he think we are—hicks from the country? No offense, Mollie.”

  “Maybe you should go check out his boat,” Johnny said. “On second thought, I will.”

  Mollie looked at him and raised one eyebrow. “Like they’d even let you in the Marina Club parking lot.”

  “They probably wouldn’t even let you slow down as you drove past,” Sherman said.

  “If you want to find out more about this DeDario guy, I could go in tomorrow and pretend to interview him or something,” Jaime volunteered.

  “For what? The Bayside Shopping Mall News?” Johnny scoffed.

  “How about if Jaime and I go into the agency, looking for work?” Sherman asked.

  “As models? Be serious!” Roberta laughed. “Chelios, maybe; you bozos, not a chance.”

  “I resent that. Your weak eyes just haven’t noticed my strong profile,” Sherman said, turning his face to the side. “See.”

  “Okay, Sherman,” Mollie agreed. “You and Jaime go talk to DeDario. You might pick up on something Roberta and I missed.”

  “Maybe we’ll also pick up on someone,” Sherman said.

  “Wake up and smell the rejection,” Johnny said, shaking his head.

  “Actually, I know a better way to check up on our pal Aaron,” Roberta said. “We could tap into the police computer bank and see if he has a record.”

  “I don’t know,” Mollie said. She wasn’t too thrilled about calling up files from her father’s computer behind his back.

  “It’s the only way to find out some real dirt,” Johnny said. “I doubt Aaron will offer much on his own.”

  Mollie chewed the straw in her can of soda. “Are you sure he won’t find out?”

  “Positive,” Roberta said.

  “Let’s do it then,” Mollie said.

  “All right!” Sherman grabbed another slice. “Way to be a delinquent, Fox.”

  Mollie got up, and so did everyone else. They all trooped into the den and surrounded her father’s desk. Roberta sat down in front of the computer, turned it on, and started to type.

  “How do you know how to do all this junk?” Jaime asked.

  “I’ve watched my dad work,” Roberta said. “You just have to dial into this modem, which goes to headquarters. The only problem is, you need a password to get into the really good stuff.”

  Johnny looked at Mollie. “Any idea what the password is?”

  “Maybe it’s Foxman,” Sherman suggested.

  “Or foxy lady,” Jaime said. “Is your dad a Jimi Hendrix fan?”

  Mollie decided to ignore their jokes. She’d heard them all—and many more—before. She grabbed a cigar box from the top drawer of the file cabinet. Her father hid dark-chocolate nut candy bars in it because he wasn’t supposed to have too many sweets. Mollie’s mom would have killed him if she knew about the stash. Mollie smiled as she opened the box. It was nice to have a father whose secrets weren’t so terrible.

  Inside was a slip of paper with the word “Costello” on it. “Try this,” she said, showing it to Roberta.

  “As in Abbott and?” Roberta asked.

  “As in Elvis,” Mollie said. “Dad’s a big fan.”

  A few seconds later, the main police menu came up on the screen. Roberta kept typing until she got to the records section. It took a few minutes for the computer to find anything under the name Aaron DeDario. When it completed its search, it said, simply, NO RECORD.

  “He’s clean?” Roberta said. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Maybe DeDario isn’t his real name,” Sherman said. “It sounds like the name of a restaurant, not a person.”

  Roberta kept typing. “What does that mean?” Mollie asked, pointing to the screen.

  “I don’t know what I did, but we just accessed the San Francisco Police Department records,” Roberta answered.

  “That’s enough,” Mollie said. “They could trace this to my dad. We shouldn’t even be in here.”

  “How about if we just check out Detective Benjamin?” Johnny asked. “We could read the file he’s keeping on the case. That might help. You said you didn’t trust him, right?”

  “Okay. But hurry. My parents are going to be home in half an hour.”

  “Here it is,” Roberta said. “It just lists the evidence we know about. Here’s something new.” She pointed to a column marked Sources? Underneath it was a phone number.

  Johnny picked up the telephone on the desk and dialed. “Hello, is this customer service? Yeah, I have a question about my bill. There’s a number I don’t recognize. Uh-huh. It’s 5559375. Thanks.” He put his hand over the receiver. “He’s checking.”

  “I never heard you sound so polite in your entire life,” Roberta said.

  “Hey, it’s a very important skill—yes?” Johnny asked. “Well, thank you very much. Good-bye.” He hung up. “It’s a pay phone at eight fifty Park Street in Oakland.”

  “The person who tipped him off about Meredith called from Oakland?” Mollie said. “That’s weird, considering she was coming from New York.” She heard a familiar sound in the driveway. “They’re here! Hurry, get back in the living room.”

  Roberta exited the system, Mollie shoved the cigar box back into the file cabinet, and they made it into the living room just as the front door opened.

  “Hello, everybody,” Mollie’s mother greeted the crowd.

  Everyone’s mouths were full of pizza. Sherman and Jaime nodded hello as they chewed, and Johnny waved. “Hello,” Mollie said, leaning back into the couch. “How was dinner?”

  “Very nice,” her father replied. “How’s yours going?”

  “Just fine,” Mollie said. She was waiting for her parents to leave and go upstairs. Instead, they were taking their coats off slowly, looking around at everyone and smiling.

  “Well, I think we’ll go upstairs and watch a movie,” Mollie’s mother finally said. “Since you all are down here.”

  “Okay.” Mollie tried not to sound too eager. “Have fun.”

  “Don’t turn this into a late night,” her father said. “You all have school tomorrow.” He glanced at Johnny. “Well, almost all.”

  “Actually, I have to get up early for work,” Johnny replied.

  “Okay, Dad, good night,” Mollie called out. The last thing she wanted was for him and Johnny to get into an argument. Mr. and Mrs. Fox slowly walked over to the stairs and went up to their bedroom.

  “I thought they’d never leave,” Roberta said. “I forgot to turn off the monitor.” She tiptoed back into the den and returned a moment later.

  “I’ll go by that pay phone tomorrow sometime,” Johnny said. “See what the deal is.”

  “Mollie, didn’t you say you snagged some airline tickets at the agency?” Jaime asked.

  Mollie nodded.

  “And they thought you were that model’s sister, Bootsy, remember?” Roberta said.

  “Bitsy,” Mollie said. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been thinking that maybe I should go to New York before the sisters shoot is over and see what I can find out.”

  “You’d have to go this weekend,” Roberta said. “Or else do a lot of explaining at school.”

  Mollie nodded. “The tickets are for Friday night.”

  “Hey, I have a cousin who lives in Staten Island,” Johnny said.

  “Oh, this I have to see. Mollie telling her parents that she’s going to New York City for the weekend with Johnny Chelios,” Sherman said. “They’ll flip. They’ll call the airline and cancel the flight. Sorry, Johnny, but I didn’t exactly get good vibes between you and the Foxman.”

  Mollie threw a crumpled napkin at Sherman. “I won’t tell them where I’m really going, stupid.”

  “Ooh … the plot thickens,” Jaime teased.

  “Don’t you and Jordan have some big date this weekend, too?” Roberta asked.

  “Ooh … the plot turns into an extra-double-thick milk shake from Dino’s,” Sherman said.

  Mollie felt her face turn pink. “I’ll tell them I’m …”

  “Going off to join the convent?” Johnny suggested.

  “Either that, or the circus,” Mollie said. “I’m sure you guys can come up with a good alibi for me. Like, doesn’t one of you want to have a big party at a condo up in the mountains?”

  “No,” Roberta said, “but Meredith could.”

  Johnny nodded. “Nice idea—but do you think Mom and Dad want Mollie hanging out with someone who’s been accused of cocaine possession?”

  “Point taken,” Mollie said. “But just so you know, I can take care of myself. My parents know that, too.”

  “So if they call me, I should tell them exactly where you are?” Roberta asked.

  “I didn’t say that.” Mollie looked over at Johnny and smiled. “What’s the weather like in New York in October, anyway?”

  CHAPTER 6

  Thursday afternoon, Mollie walked into the Whistler Agency and smiled at Kara. “Hi, how’s it going?”

  “Rotten,” Kara said. “But at least your friend’s nice. Want me to get her?”

  “Sure, if you don’t mind. I need to talk to her about some homewo—about a home, I mean house, I looked at, where they’re renting out apartments,” Mollie caught herself.

  “Just a second.” Kara buzzed Roberta on the intercom, and a few seconds later, Roberta came out into the reception area.

  “Hi, Mollie, what’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you about an apartment I looked at,” Mollie said loudly. “I want to know if I should take it.”

  “Let’s go outside,” Roberta said. “I could use the fresh air.”

  “No kidding,” Kara said. “All I can smell is that stuff on Aaron’s head, and he’s not even here.” Roberta laughed.

  “He’s not?” Mollie asked when she and Roberta were outside.

  “Nope. Hasn’t been here all day, from what I hear.”

  “That’s weird. Wasn’t there a lot to do yesterday—like a total crisis situation?”

  “I don’t know. Amanda keeps complaining about how she has to do everything. Aaron’s probably out working on his tan in the Daredevil.” Roberta shivered. “Yuck, I just pictured him in a bathing suit—a tiny black Speedo.”

  “Have you found out anything?” Mollie whispered.

  “I’ve checked out most of the computer files, but I don’t really know what I’m looking for yet. I did notice that some of the models, including our soon-to-be raisin Rahel, travel an awful lot. She’s been to Hong Kong and Rio a few times. I couldn’t find any records of billing for a shoot—just the invoices for the tickets.”

  “Maybe they were misplaced,” Mollie suggested.

  “Probably,” Roberta said. “Do you know how much these girls make? It’s disgusting.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16