The Great Shelby Holmes (22 page)

“I see,” she replied with a nod.

Zane was up ahead, walking past fancy boutiques and restaurants with colorful awnings. We were about forty blocks south of where we lived, but the streets were completely different. The sidewalks were mostly filled with women pushing strollers in workout clothes that looked nicer than what my mom usually wears to work. But intermixed with the stores that I was pretty sure I couldn't even afford to walk into were stores from every suburban town I'd ever lived. There was something strangely comforting about seeing a Dunkin' Donuts every few blocks in the middle of a large city.

Zane turned onto Columbus Avenue, and we followed.

It was time for me to finally ask the questions. “Why are you following Zane? What exactly did you find?”

“Do you really want to know?” Shelby asked with a raised eyebrow. Then she grabbed my elbow and led me across the street as Zane disappeared from our view as he turned onto 92nd Street.

“Of course I do!” Although I didn't want to listen to her accuse Zane. There was no way he could've done it. He knew that everybody was blaming Zareen, the person he was closest to. The person he always looked out for. Why would he do something that would only make Zareen miserable?

She sighed impatiently. “I'm merely checking out each family member, so you have nothing to worry about. I know
you've become attached to the Lacys, but you do realize that
somebody
had to have taken Daisy. She didn't simply disappear into thin air. All I'm doing is following the facts. And right now those facts have led us here.”

We turned the corner onto 92nd Street to discover that Zane was gone. He'd simply vanished.

“Where did he go?” I asked.

Shelby began to walk slowly up the street, cautiously peering into each store window before moving on to the next. Her eyes swept the buildings on the other side of the street until they settled on a store directly across from us.

“There.” She pointed at the store. “While always being right can sometimes be a burden, I truly am sorry about this, Watson. Really, I am.”

My gaze followed her finger to the bright blue awning with white paw prints.

PAWESOME POOCHES.

CHAPTER

25

T
here
were
many
,
many
times
I
'
ve
been
confused
in
the
short
while
I'
ve
known
S
helby
. M
any
times
. But I had no idea why Shelby was practically gleeful that Zane was in a dog store. His family has dogs. His twin sister has a dog. This wasn't a big deal.

Right?

We remained hidden behind a parked car across the street as we waited. I wasn't exactly sure what we were waiting for.

I couldn't take the silence anymore. “I don't understand why we're hiding. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for Zane going into a dog store.”

“Perhaps,” she replied cryptically. “Although this gives me an idea. So we will need to go into the store once he leaves.”

“Like, to case the joint?”

Case the joint? Really, Watson?

“Something like that.”

“Why can't we go in there now?”

“We can't have Zane blow our cover.”

While I was excited about going undercover, I was becoming increasingly agitated that Shelby thought Zane was a suspect.

After a few minutes (according to Shelby's stopwatch, it was precisely eight minutes and twelve seconds), Zane emerged from the store. To get a better view, I leaned over the hood of a car, but my balance finally gave way and I fell in front of the car with a thud. “Ow!” I screamed out before I could stop myself.

“Watson?” I heard Zane's voice call out at the same time Shelby cursed me under her breath.

Zane jogged across the street and gave me a hand to help me up. Shelby stayed crouched down. She untied her shoelaces while giving me a glare that made it painfully obvious that she was not happy with me.

“Are you okay?” Zane asked. “What are you guys doing here? Were you hiding?”

“We're here to do some research,” Shelby replied quickly. “I was simply tying my shoe while Watson was experimenting with gravity and failed miserably.”

“Oh, okay.” He looked between us. “Please tell me you'll find Daisy soon. I'm sick that Zareen's being blamed for it. In fact—” Zane reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a Pawesome Pooches' shopping bag. “I figured she
needed some cheering up, so I got Roxy this.” He held up a stuffed giraffe.

Relief spread through my body. I
knew
there was a simple explanation. Why did Shelby have to make everything a big deal?

“I think it's great you're being so thorough,” Zane said to Shelby.

“Thank you,” Shelby replied with a hint of sarcasm (so, you know, her regular voice).

“I'll leave you two sleuths to it,” he said before heading back the way he came.

“Well, that was a relief,” I said, but Shelby's attention was on the store.

She straightened up, pushed her shoulders back, and seemed taller than her usual slumped position. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a pink sequined headband and pushed it on her head to somewhat tame her wild curls.

“Follow my lead,” she commanded as we crossed the street and entered the shop.

I'd never been in a pet store before. There hadn't been a need since Dad was allergic to dogs and cats. But I was very certain that even if I'd been to a million pet stores in every single state I'd lived in, nothing would've compared to this.

Sure, there were leashes, bones, and toys, but there was also a section for designer “pet couture,” where I picked up a
furry jacket, but immediately put it back when I saw it was over seven hundred dollars because it was a mink coat. For a dog.

Let me repeat myself: a mink coat.
For a dog
.

There was also a dog perfume counter, a spa for dogs, and a dog bakery.

I should've known the glass case was filled with delicious-looking cookies, biscuits, and cakes that were not for humans, or Shelby would've been over there slobbering just like the black Lab whose paws were currently on the case.

“Can I help you?” An older woman wearing a T-shirt with a fluffy dog on it approached us.

“Yes.” Shelby turned around, and I hardly recognized her. I mean, it was definitely Shelby, but she'd also put on a pink cardigan over her baggy black shirt, which was now tucked into her shorts. Her posture was as straight as a pole and her voice seemed to be dripping with honey. She looked like a …
girl
. “I'm Petunia Cumberbatch, from the Greenwich Cumberbatches.”

Petunia Cumberbatch?
Really?
And she had made fun of the names
I
had come up with?

“Daddy is waiting outside in his town car—you know how those Wall Street hedge-fund managers are—but I told him I'd pop in and see if this would be an appropriate place for us to store our beloved pooch, Peaches, while we vacation in Saint Bart's. Usually we can take him on our private jet, but it seems that the new chef at our beach house is allergic to dogs, so here we are.”

Ah, what?

Shelby had done a complete turnaround of character. She had a new accent that I couldn't quite place, but it screamed money.

There was no way anybody could buy such a grand story, but the clerk was eating it up.

“Well, of course,” the woman said as she leaned in like she understood the perils of private planes. “We have the city's best dog hotel, with daily spa treatments, exercise classes, and all-organic food, which is prepared in-house by our chef de cuisine.”

You have
got
to be kidding me.

“We're very particular about the kind of food Peaches eats. Would we be able to bring in our own food?”

“But of course.”

“Excellent.” Shelby gave the woman the most innocent of smiles. “I'd love a tour.”

“It would be my pleasure. Please follow me.” The woman held out her hand for Shelby to follow.

“Oh, and this is my basketball tutor,
Sherlock
.” Shelby turned to face me and stuck out her tongue, which was completely out of character for both Shelby Holmes and Petunia Cumberbatch.

I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't start laughing and blow our cover.

The woman opened a set of double doors, and I did my best not to cry out in protest. The hallway had rooms on either side that were about as big as my bedroom back home. Each one was for a dog.

Again.
FOR
. A.
DOG
.

Every room was brightly decorated with paint, photos of dogs, a bed, and toys. There were waist-high gates attached to each entry. The hallway then led to a play area, which looked more like a playground from when I was a kid, with slides, swings, and a running lane on the outside.