A Snitch in the Snob Squad (9 page)

It wasn’t just Max’s appearance. Or maybe it was. Max was sporting a black sports bra with her baggy camouflage pants. The
pants hung halfway down her hips and you could see the plaid waistband of her boxer shorts. No one ever accused Max of
not
making a fashion statement. No one ever accused Max of anything, if they valued their life.

Lydia grabbed Prairie’s arm and hitched her chin at me. “I’ll call you when we’re done,” she yelled over her shoulder to her
mother.

Leaving Dr. Beals in the dust, we hauled you-know-what down the mall. “You’re not really quitting school, are you?” Lydia
asked Max.

“Maybe,” Max mumbled.

“Have you really been living at the bus station?” I said. “With the homeless people?”

“Huh?” Max curled a lip at me.

“Can I tell them?” Prairie said.

Max shrugged. “I guess.”

“She’s b-been staying with me. Her mom knows and everything.”

“Thank God.” Lydia slapped her chest.

“So, what happened with the cops?” I asked.

Max replied, “I’ll tell you later. Where’s Kruppsbutt and Melon-head?” We’d stopped and gathered ’round the wiener wagon.

“They were heading toward Dillard’s,” I said.

“What’s the plan?” Lydia asked.

Why does she always ask me? Oh, yeah. I’m supposed to be the leader.

Max said, “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” She looked at Lydia like she was a helium head. To me, she said, “Prayer thought we could
use these.” She shoved her hands into her extra-large pockets and pulled out four plastic cases.

As she passed them out, I cried, “Brilliant, Prairie!”

Prairie blushed. “My brothers got them for Christmas.”

“What are they?” Lydia asked, examining her black box.

Prairie answered, “Walkie-t-talkies.”

A slow smile spread across Lydia’s lips. “I get it. For spying. Sweet.”

Prairie added, “They might need batteries.”

I pressed the Talk button. “Breaker, breaker,” I said into the microphone. “This is Sumo Sal calling any ears on in the SS.
What’s yer flying orders, good buddies?”

Max’s eyes widened. “You know CB?”

“My uncle Ralph was a trucker. About six jobs ago. He taught me.”

“Cool,” Max breathed. I felt a new reverence all around. “Teach me to say, ‘Roger, Charlie. Over and out.’ ”

I pressed my Talk button. “Roger, Charlie. Over and out.”

Max gave me her death look.

“Or you could say, ‘To ya, buddy. On the flip-flop.’ ”

Prairie giggled. She pressed her button and said, “On the f-flip-flop.” It echoed out into the mall.

Lydia tried her walkie-talkie. Nothing happened. “Mine’s dead,” she said.

Max tested hers. It was dead, too. “First stop,” I told them, “is the Walgreens for batteries.”

On the way I informed them that we needed to make up handles. “You know, code names. Like Seat to the Saddle; that was Uncle
Ralph’s. Or Lady Lead Foot. That was his girlfriend’s.”

“Cool.” Max shook her head. “This is so cool.”

Sometimes I loved being the leader. When we got to the cashier to pay for the batteries, Lydia said, “I didn’t bring any money.
Did you?”

Max and Prairie dug into their pockets. They had about thirty cents between them. “I’ll get it,” I said, even though I was
planning to spend that twenty on replenishing my stash of candy. With low-fat granola bars, of course. “I’m rich today.”

A knowing look passed between Max and Prairie. I didn’t know what it knew. “What?” I asked.

Prairie lowered her eyes. “Nothing,” she said.

I shrugged it off. Weirdness ran rampant in this group.

As we loaded the batteries and headed down to Dillard’s, I taught everyone a few phrases in CB talk and we tried out our new
handles. “Breaker, breaker,” I said to my box. “This is Sumo Sal, coming in on the south side. Anyone got their ears on? Over.”

“That’s a five five,” Max said. “What’s yer flying orders, Sumo?”

“Spy in the sky.” I covered my mike. “That means a helicopter cop, but it could mean just a spy, too. Puttin’ the kill on
the Krupps. Reckon to turn her over to the big hats.” Which means catching Ashley in the act and letting the authorities know,
loosely translated.

Lydia pressed her Talk button. “Carmen SanDiego here,” she said. “Over.”

We all looked at her.

“What? She’s the only spy I know.”

Prairie signed on. “This is Double O T-Trouble. Here’s pie in your eye.” She grinned.

Max raised her walkie-talkie to her mouth. “Roger, over. This here’s La Cucaracha.” She grinned.

Only Max would dub herself The Cockroach.

“There they are!” Prairie pointed. Quickly she raised her walkie-talkie to her lips. “S-Suspect headed into World of Leather.”

“Over,” Lydia replied. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” I grabbed her sleeve. “One of us goes in. The others hang back. Spread out. Take cover.”

“I’ll go in,” Lydia said. She dashed toward the door, then stopped and spun around. Pressing her walkie-talkie close to her
mouth, she said, “Can you hear me?”

Her voice came out loud and clear. Max replied, “You’re supposed to say, ‘Breaker, breaker.’ ”

“Excuuuse me,” Lydia said. It echoed in the mall.

“Be careful, Lydia,” I said.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

I added, “Check in when you get close to them. Try to find out what they’re buying and how much it costs.” I told the others,
“Let’s split up. Keep the World of Leather in sight.”

We all headed off in different directions. I crouched beside a potted palm, while Prairie and Max slipped behind the giant
fountain.

A few seconds later my walkie-talkie crackled to life. “They’re leaving,” Lydia’s voice whispered through my box.

“They buy anything?” I asked.

“Negatori,” she said.

Another voice came on. “Suspects headed to Pamela Petites,” Prairie said.

Max replied, “I got ’em.”

“Stay close,” I ordered everyone else.

Reflected in the stores’ glass panes, Lydia slinked down the mall. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be picked up by the mall police
for suspicious behavior. Max’s voice came online. “They’re looking through the shorts. Wait. Krupps is taking one to the fitting
room.”

Lydia said, “Like Ashley could get one leg into a pair of petites.”

Prairie tittered.

“La Cucaracha,” I called. “What’s Melanie doing?”

“Nothin’ much. Standing around, acting stupid. She’s got a bag from Blockbuster. Looks like a CD or something.”

Rats, I thought. We missed a purchase. Okay, she’d spent probably twelve to fifteen dollars on the CD. “Keep watching,” I
ordered Max. “If Ashley picks anything out, go back to the rack and see how much it costs.”

“That’s a five five,” Max said.

We repeated the routine four more times. One of us would follow them into the store and note the prices on anything they bought.
We were so good, so invisible, I considered adding covert operations to my list of career possibilities.

It was after six o’clock by the time we trailed Ashley and Melanie to the exit. The four of us walkie-talkied our way to the
food bazaar. Lydia called her mom to tell her she was eating with us; reassure her she wasn’t being corrupted. Meanwhile,
I bought a pepperoni pizza and we jammed into a booth.

“Okay,” I began. “I figure they spent about…” I counted all the places they’d been on my fingers, trying to remember all their
purchases.

Lydia said, “Here, I wrote everything down.” She withdrew a little spiral notebook from her pocket and flipped it open. “Give
me a minute to add it all up.”

“Lyd, you should be a Boy Scout,” Max said.

Lydia gave her a dirty look.

Max swallowed her mouthful of pizza. “What I meant is you practice their motto: Be prepared.”

She met my eyes.

“It’s a compliment,” I said. “Isn’t it?” I queried Max.

She smirked. Lydia went back to eating and calculating. “They bought those matching sleeveless T-shirts for eight ninety-nine
each, and the earrings, and those hair scrunchies.”

“Don’t forget the CD,” I said.

Prairie piped up, “Did you guys notice that Ashley p-paid for everything?”

My eyes widened. “You’re right, she did.” That should add fuel to the fire. The fire with which we were going to burn Ashley
Krupps to a crisp.

“It comes to forty-eight dollars and ninety-nine cents,” Lydia announced. “Give or take five dollars for the CD. Who knows
if it was on sale or not?”

“So, let’s say fifty bucks,” I said. “Assuming they already spent Mrs. Jonas’s money on their matching outfits, how much was
stolen from Ms. Milner?”

Everyone looked blank.

“I could ask her on Monday,” Prairie said.

Lydia added, “And if it’s more than that, we could always follow Ashley again next weekend. This was fun.” She beamed.

We all beamed. It’d been a blast.

“All right,” I said. “By Monday afternoon Ashley’s going down. And it won’t be in a blaze of glory. Which means, Max, you’ll
be in the clear.”

“Who cares?” she grumbled.

“I do,” Prairie said.

“Me, too,” I said. We both looked at Lydia.

She clucked. “Of course I care.”

“All for one,” I began.

“And one for all,” they finished. We gave the Snob Squad salute.

K
evin was waiting for me Monday morning when I got off the bus. Falling into step beside me, he said, “How are ya, Jen?”

I almost melted all over his Reeboks. “Good,” I said casually. “How was your uncle’s cabin?”

“It was okay. I, uh…” He grabbed my arm and swung me around to face him. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for anyone
within earshot. Such as Lydia, who was hustling toward us at the speed of a spitwad. Luckily she tripped over her feet and
crashed into a trash can, which rolled into another one creating a domino effect all the way to the Dumpster. Leave it to
Lydia.

Kevin said quickly, “Iwantedtogiveyouthis.” He pressed something into my hand. It was a box, white and oblong, held together
with a red rubber band. “Ididn’thavetimetowrapitsorry.”

“Another present?” I stared at the box. “Geez, Kevin. You shouldn’t have.” Then I thought, Why not? I’m worth it. I sounded
like a shampoo commercial and it made me giggle.

Kevin smiled. “Go ahead. Open it.”

I turned the box over. On the bottom was a price tag. I gasped. Out loud I read, “Ninety-five dollars and ninety-nine cents?”

“Huh?” Kevin’s jaw jammed. He read the sticker and blushed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” He tried
to scrape it off with a thumbnail and couldn’t.

I had the urge to hug him, but checked it.

Rolling off the rubber band, I lifted the top and gasped again. “Oh, my God, Kevin!” Inside was a glittering gold chain with
a little gold
J
in the middle. It was dainty and delicate. And expensive-looking.

“You can wear it all the time,” Kevin said. “It’s real gold. It won’t turn green in the shower or anything.”

Just then Lydia arrived. “Hi, Jenny. You’ll be glad to know Max is back.”

“All right!” It was looking like our last week of school was going to be awesome.

“Oh, hi, Kevin,” Lydia said dryly. “I suppose you two love birds want to be alone.”

Neither of us replied.

“What’s that, another present?”

Without answering, I looped the necklace over my head. The little links flowed through my fingers. I’d never felt anything
so precious, so perfect.

Lydia punched her fists into her hips. “Okay, fine. Be a snot. Act like Ashley.” She huffed, then spun and stomped away.

That hurt. “Lydia, wait,” I called.

She didn’t turn around.

“Lydia!”

Kevin said, “I gotta go, anyway,” He hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. “The guys are waiting. Maybe we could do a movie
or something this weekend.”

“I do,” I said. “I mean, I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” He smiled. “Okay.”

Kevin passed Prairie on her way down the sidewalk. “J-J-Jenny, I g-gotta t-t-talk to you,” she said, scurrying over. She must’ve
been excited or anxious, her stuttering was so noticeable.

“What’s up?” Over her shoulder, I watched Kevin ambling away. Even from the back he was adorable. Lydia had already disappeared
around the corner.

Prairie sniffed. That got my attention. She looked like she was going to cry.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“Oh, Jenny.” Her eyes welled with tears. She exhaled a shaky breath. “I just found out how m-much m-money was stolen from
Ms. Milner.”

“How much? More than fifty dollars?”

She nodded. “A lot more. Almost a hundred dollars.”

My Cheerios coagulated in my stomach. Something dropped from my now-limp fingers. A box. An oblong box with a price tag attached.

By lunchtime Lydia had forgiven me. It took a note of apology wrapped around my last roll of Smarties, but it was worth it.
“When are we going to turn Ashley in?” she asked. “I typed up all her purchases so Mr. Krupps could read it. The total, with
tax, comes to fifty-four dollars and ninety-five cents, give or take five dollars.”

Prairie met my eyes. Tried to. Mine were busy scraping the Formica, while my new necklace seared a chain-link noose around
my neck.

“What?” Lydia said, noticing the silence. “Oh, I know it’s not as much as she took. She just hasn’t spent it all yet. We’ll
have to keep following her until she does.”

“At this rate we could be following her forever,” I muttered.

Lydia blinked. “What do you mean?”

Prairie piped up, “Almost a hundred dollars was stolen from Ms. Milner.”

Lydia looked from Prairie to me and gulped. Shaking my head, I said, “That makes like two hundred dollars altogether. We don’t
have nearly enough evidence to take to Mr. Krupps.”

Prairie smiled at me. “Thank you, J-Jenny,” she said.

For what? I wondered.

She added, “You’re a good person, down deep.”

Quit it, I thought. You’re going to make me cry.

“But everyone knows she did it.” Lydia’s voice rose.

“Yeah, but we have to have more proof. At the moment nothing adds up.” And I wasn’t just talking numbers.