Framed & Dangerous (9780545443128) (2 page)

I
knocked on Zane's front door.

Yeah. That's right. I was at Zane Munro's
house
. He lived only two doors down from Maya, but I had never been inside his place. My stomach was whirling like a tornado. I reminded myself to calm down. I wasn't here to hang out. This was Partners in Crime business.

The door swung open and Zane gave me a half smile, but I could tell it was forced. The worried look in his eyes said everything.

He led me inside. “I'm sorry to make you come all the way here, but I wanted to show it to you guys in person.” Then he glanced over my shoulder, doing a double take. “Where's Darcy?”

“Oh, um, she … couldn't come,” I fibbed.

“Okay, you can fill her in.” We'd reached the kitchen. It was homey and smelled like recently baked cookies. The kind of kitchen that made you feel warm inside.

“I was just about to eat a sandwich. Would you like one?” He pointed to a sandwich on a second plate. I saw the peanut butter and jelly oozing out the sides, and my stomach growled.

“Thanks,” I said, sitting down. “PB&J is my favorite.”

“Mine, too!” Zane said, settling in the chair beside me.

We both took bites. The silence was kind of awkward. The light chatter of a talk show leaked in from the living room where his mom must've been watching TV.

Zane wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was sitting so close I could've counted the freckles on his nose. (Not that I would. Okay, maybe. They're so cute!) But I forced myself to focus.

When Maya had told me that Zane liked me, too, she'd made me promise not to let him know that I knew. He had told her in secret. So I had to act like
everything was normal, even though, on the inside, I was exploding like a supernova.

I put the sandwich down and used a napkin to make sure I didn't have jelly on my face. “So … is this about your wallet?” I asked. “Did someone steal it?” That was the first thing that had come to my mind when he'd asked me to come over. I remembered him telling me yesterday that he'd lost his wallet.

Zane looked confused for a moment, then shook his head. “No, my wallet never showed up. I must've lost it. It's no biggie. I only had a couple of bucks in there, plus my student ID, which can be replaced.”

“Then, what's going on?” I asked, starting to feel even more anxious.

He gazed at me, and his normally bright eyes darkened. “I think someone's out to get me.”

I held back a gasp. “What would make you think that?”

“When I got home from school just now, I checked my e-mail. Someone sent me an anonymous message, early this morning.”

My brain immediately went into panic mode.
No one sent him an e-mail about me, did they? About my crush on him? Or telling him not to like me? Or saying
that I'm a dork and he could do better? Or …
My stomach clenched as I turned over the possibilities. “What did it say?” I asked.

“I can show you,” he replied.

A closed laptop was centered on the kitchen table. He slid it toward us and pulled it open. The screen whirred to life. He'd left the e-mail there for me to see.

Though there wasn't much. Just one line.

I felt instant relief that it wasn't about me, but that was quickly replaced with confusion. “That's it?”

Zane nodded.

“Blamed for what?” I asked.

“I don't know. It's kind of creepy, don't you think?”

I checked out the sender. I didn't recognize the e-mail address and it wasn't even a name or anything. Anonymous, like Zane had said.

I cleared my throat. “Okay, first things first. Did you try responding to the e-mail?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Right away. But no one wrote back.”

“Maybe it's nothing,” I said hopefully. “Maybe someone sent you the e-mail as a joke. Like a prank from one of your friends on the soccer team.”

“I really hope so. But the only way to know for sure is to find out who sent it.” He paused and smiled sheepishly. “That's where you come in. I know Partners in Crime has solved mysteries even harder than this. It should be easy, right? Will you and Darcy take on my case?”

I grimaced. Truth time. “Darcy and I are … not speaking right now.”

“What?” Zane blurted, shocked. “You guys are always together! You've been best friends for years.”

This intense meeting with Zane had temporarily pushed out the sadness I felt about my fight with Darcy. But now it was back.

Darcy had said Partners in Crime was “over,” but here was someone who really needed the agency's help. Could I take on the case without Darcy? I didn't know. I'm smart, but Darcy's the technology pro. She has special software and computer stuff that can figure out things I'd never be able to. Like who sent that e-mail.

Panic started to creep into the back of my mind. I dropped the rest of my sandwich, not hungry anymore. I looked up into Zane's blue eyes. I couldn't let him down. Not when he could be in real trouble.

Focus, Norah
, I told myself.
You can do this.

“My fight with Darcy is complicated,” I said. “But don't worry. I'll help you myself.”

 

On
Tuesday morning, we were told to skip homeroom and head directly to an assembly. I took a minute to stop at my locker and toss my backpack and jacket inside. Everyone was rushing toward the auditorium. Kids had never been this excited about a school meeting before. But they wanted details about the fire.

I was one of the last students to get to the auditorium. I walked through the doors and scanned the rows of seats, looking for any friendly face. I saw Maya, but there were no empty seats near her.

Then, two rows behind Maya, I saw Darcy. She had Hunter Fisk on one side and an empty seat on the other. Only a few weeks ago, Hunter would've been
the last person on earth that Darcy would ever sit with. But he was starting to change a bit, for the better, thanks in part to the last case we'd solved.

Hunter must've said something funny because Darcy threw her head back in laughter. Then Hunter held out his fist and Darcy bumped it.

Jealousy rose up inside me. The fist bump was
our
thing. A hollow in my heart ached, the empty space where my best friend belonged.

Then Darcy noticed me, straightened in her seat, and stared. My nerves went crazy, from my stomach to my fingers, and I thought there was a real chance that I would lose my breakfast right there in front of everyone.

Then she looked away.

The seat beside her
was
empty. What would she do if I sat there? Yell at me? Ignore me? Or … maybe we'd make up. Maybe she felt just like I did.

I stood frozen for a moment, not knowing what to do. I decided to make a deal. If she looked at me again, I'd go over there.

Look at me. Look at me.

A voice behind me said, “Norah, over here!”

Fiona Fanning waved at me with one hand, while using the other to save the seat beside her. Fiona was the prettiest, most popular girl in school. Today, her long brown hair fell in stylish waves along the shoulders of her red cashmere sweater. Meanwhile, my dark-blond hair hung limply down the back of my gray hoodie. I was an astronomy-obsessed nerd and she was destined for the fashion runway. But we'd bonded over a Partners in Crime case and were unlikely, but real, friends.

That budding friendship had caused a rift to form between Darcy and me. But our fight also involved miscommunications and other best-friend drama. None of which was Fiona's fault.

I adjusted my glasses on my face and made my way over to the seat beside Fiona. Before I could whisper hello, Principal Plati immediately walked to the podium.

“As you all know,” he began, “our brand-new field house has been destroyed. The brave firefighters did their best against the flames, but we will need to completely rebuild. The area around the field house is roped off. It is unsafe. And the fire department is
investigating. So no student is allowed near what's left of the building. Is that understood?”

We all nodded.

Principal Plati cleared his throat, as if the next part was harder to say. I squirmed in my seat.

“Mr. Gray, our school janitor, was there early yesterday morning and saw the building in flames. He called 911 and rushed to the field house to try to help put the fire out with an extinguisher. Unfortunately, he was hurt and is being treated in the hospital now for smoke inhalation and other injuries.”

A hush fell over the crowd. This was even worse news. The field house was just a building. It could be replaced. Mr. Gray was a person. And a nice one, at that. He always smiled and waved as you passed by. My eyes got all watery at the thought of him lying in a hospital bed. How could something like this happen?

As if he knew that would be the next question, Mr. Plati said, “We've been told from the fire department that there's a chance this was arson.”

Fiona leaned in and whispered, “What does that mean?”

I knew the term from watching
Crime Scene: New York
with Darcy. “It means it wasn't an accident,” I
whispered back. “Someone tried to burn down the field house on purpose.”

I felt eyes on the back of my head, like someone was watching me. I turned in my seat and found Zane staring at me with a worried look on his face.

Normally, I'd be excited to catch Zane staring at me. But his expression made a shudder go down my spine.

I remembered the e-mail he got.

You'll be blamed.

That didn't have anything to do with the fire … did it?

Fiona
and I walked out of the auditorium together. Zane had left with his soccer team friends, after giving me one last desperate look over his shoulder.

Fiona threw her hands in the air. “This is terrible!”

“I know.” I shook my head sadly. “Poor Mr. Gray.”

Fiona arched an eyebrow as if she'd forgotten the fact that Mr. Gray was currently in the hospital fighting for his life. “Well, yes, that's horrible, too,” she said. “But I was referring to the tragedy of our new field house being destroyed.”

I shrugged, not getting why she was being so over-dramatic. “They'll rebuild it.”

Fiona opened her mouth wide like I'd said the
dumbest thing on earth. “Not in time! They can't build a new field house in two weeks.”

“In … two … weeks?” My mind searched for what could possibly be so important to her. Fiona was a cheerleader for the football team. They played outside.

“The school dance, Norah!” she said, exasperated.

Oh.
That.
I'd seen new posters for the dance hanging in the hallway just that morning, but I hadn't given a thought to the dance yet. “It can be in the gym,” I suggested.

Fiona looked offended. “That nasty old place? It smells like dirty socks!”

She started walking quickly, letting her fingers trail along the lockers. I rushed to keep up with her as she chattered on.

“I suppose you're right, though,” she said. “The Dance Committee barely has enough money for decorations. We can't afford to have it anywhere off school property. We'll have to do it in the gym.”

The words poured out of her mouth in a stream of anxious babbling.

“The Dance Committee is really going to need some creative ideas now. People have the most unrealistic theme suggestions, and now I have to deal with this
mess.” Then, like a lightbulb had lit up in her head, she stopped and pointed at me. “You.”

I put a hand to my chest. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Me what?”

“You need to join the Dance Committee.”

Did
she
have smoke inhalation? The Dance Committee was made up of all the most popular girls in school. Girls who wouldn't bother to even speak to me, never mind listen to my ideas. Fiona must have been insane. I started to back away. “Uh, no thanks. I'm, uh, busy.”

“Wait.” Fiona grabbed the sleeve of my hoodie. “I need you, Norah. You're smart, creative, and organized.”

“But I don't really —”

Fiona started hopping in place, repeating, “Please, please, please, please, please.”

“Fine, fine,” I said, mainly to make her stop. “I'll go to one meeting and see how it is.”

“Great!” Fiona clapped her hands together. “It's right after school in Room 111.” She lowered her voice and added, “Maybe after the meeting we can talk about how to get Zane to ask you to the dance.”

She wagged her eyebrows at me, spun around, and walked away.

I hadn't even thought about that as a possibility. A little grin spread across my face.

I was suddenly a lot more interested in the school dance.

 

After
the assembly, classes were held as normal. I tried my best to focus even though I was anxious about ten thousand different things. I'm a worrier by nature, so this isn't exactly breaking news, but I didn't usually have
so
much to obsess about at once. The fire, Darcy, Zane, why I'd agreed to join the Dance Committee …

When the bell rang for lunch, I realized that I'd have to face Darcy. It was easy to ignore our fight in class. I paid attention to the teacher, as usual. But in the lunchroom we always sat together and talked. Every day. I stopped and stared at the kids rushing through the open doorway, excited to eat and join their friends. It felt like there was a giant boulder sitting in my stomach.

If I walked in and she was sitting at our usual table,
did I just go and sit next to her? Or … if I went in and she wasn't there yet, did I sit in our regular spot?

I didn't know what to do.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the large, noisy room. My eyes went directly to our usual spot. Maya was there, but Darcy wasn't sitting with her. Where was she? Did she make a new friend already, or was she eating alone in the library to avoid me? How could she be so cold?

My mood swung from nervous to angry. I bet Darcy hadn't even cried over our fight like I had. She never cries. Not even when she broke her arm in fourth grade. I tried to harden my heart. She's a robot. Who wants a robot as a friend anyway?

But she was also hilariously funny. And smart. And easy to talk to.

On the surface we seemed like opposites. She dressed to stand out, I liked blending in. She got in trouble so much that Principal Plati had her mother on speed-dial, and I was a goody-goody. But we did have a lot in common. We lived next door to each other. We were both only children. We were nerds and proud of it. Hanging with Fiona and Maya was fun, but no one understood me like Darcy did.

I suddenly missed her so much it felt like someone was squeezing my heart.

I had to get out of there. I spun around, left the cafeteria, and headed for the computer lab. I was pretty sure it was empty during our lunch period. I could quickly eat my sandwich and then try to get to the bottom of Zane's weird e-mail.

I peeked my head into the room. Empty. Yes! I chose the closest computer and entered my school user name and password. While it loaded I pulled my sandwich out of my paper lunch bag and took a big bite.

I'd asked Zane to forward the e-mail to me so I could take a closer look. I logged into my e-mail and clicked on the anonymous message. It had no subject line and only those three threatening words in the body. It was sent early Monday morning, when the field house was on fire. I examined the sender once more. The address was
ZM
at some free e-mail service. “I wonder what
ZM
stands for,” I said, thinking out loud. But as soon as I said it, I realized those were Zane's initials.

The computer lab suddenly felt as cold as the Arctic Circle. I shivered uncontrollably. It certainly seemed like someone had created an e-mail address
just to send Zane one crazy e-mail. Using his initials in the address made it even more menacing in a way. Like someone
was
out to get him.

I'd been hoping to type the person's e-mail address into Google and find some information about him or her. You never know what will pop up with an e-mail address search. But now I knew … this one would turn up empty. I tried anyway and got nothing.

I let out a long sigh.
Okay, Norah. What would Darcy do?

She'd find out more about the e-mailer.

I searched “how to find out who sent an e-mail” and wasted the rest of the lunch period reading articles that made no sense to me. E-mail tracers, ISP providers, IP addresses — I didn't know what any of that meant. I ran my fingers roughly through my hair.

Totally frustrated, I logged out of the computer and threw the rest of my sandwich away.

This was going to be harder than I thought.