The Great Shelby Holmes (26 page)

“Think, Watson,” Shelby encouraged me. “You gave me
quite the detailed description of your game of the basketball yesterday, which was how I knew Zane missed a game sometime this week.”

I told her that? Then I remembered the trash-talking that happened when Zane missed a basket. I thought they were just teasing each other. I didn't realize it was a clue.

Plus, I didn't think Shelby was even listening to me when I reenacted all the teasing. What else did I tell her? What else did I hear?

Flashes from yesterday started popping up in my head. A comment here and there. It all started to make sense.

“Corey!” I exclaimed. “He's eighteen. He mentioned something about Zane buying him shoes.”

“Exactly,” Shelby said with pride. “He signed the dog in, gave them the papers, and put it on a credit card. Thank you, Watson.”

I felt like I was in a haze. All the evidence was placed in front of me, but I was too naive to see it. I didn't want to believe that any of the Lacys were guilty, especially Zane.

Since I was part of the team that caught him, there'd be no way he'd want to be my friend now. He wouldn't be able to trust me again after I got him in trouble.

Well, then maybe he shouldn't have stolen a dog.

Still, it stung. I liked hanging with him and his friends yesterday. He was the only friend I had made since I got
here. Well, I thought he was my only friend since I still didn't know where things stood with Shelby.

Shelby seemed quite pleased with herself. “Oh, and, Mrs. Lacy, you should be aware that your son has a tell.”

“A what?” She looked like she was in shock.

“Whenever he lies, he puts his hands in his pockets. I noticed it the other day when I was interrogating him.”

Wait
. So Shelby wasn't flirting with Zane after all. She was asking him all those random questions because she was trying to see what he was lying about.

Yeah, that made more sense. Shelby didn't seem like the type to be interested in guys. She didn't want friends—there was no way she'd be interested in a boyfriend.

This also meant that Shelby knew Zane was the lead suspect way before she trailed him. That was why she wanted me to play basketball with him. It wasn't to get rid of me (necessarily); it was to get intel. So I was useful after all!

John Watson: detective, truth seeker, and expert dog handler.

“I can't believe he did this to poor Daisy!” Tamra shouted, her grip tight around her dog's neck. She looked over at her older sister, who still appeared to be in shock. “I'm so sorry I thought you did it, Zareen.”

Zareen gave a little nod, seeming to be confused over the turn of events.

See, I knew Zareen was innocent. So yeah, I totally didn't know who did it, but at least I was right about Zareen.

Tamra kept petting Daisy. “Can we even show her like this?”

Emerson dug through his giant leather bag for tools to see if Daisy's fur could be saved.

Mrs. Lacy finally snapped out of her fog. “Thank you so much, Shelby. What can we do to repay you for helping our family?”

Shelby's entire demeanor perked up. “I'd appreciate a pan of Miss Eugenia's walnut-fudge brownies.” Shelby then turned to me. “And I must acknowledge Watson's role in all this.”

As much as it pained me that this whole ordeal cost me Zane's friendship, I really appreciated that Shelby was acknowledging my help. I was a huge part of her figuring everything out, even if I had no clue I was doing it.

Shelby continued, “Would it be possible for Miss Eugenia to make him a batch of sugar-free brownies?”

“Absolutely.” Mrs. Lacy gave me a kind smile. “I better go off …”

A team of groomers was around Daisy, combing and prepping her for her debut as a white- and raven-haired dog.

“Well, Watson, we did it!” Shelby declared with a slight nod in my direction.

Did she really use the word
we
? Maybe the great Shelby Holmes needed a partner (not an assistant) after all.

“Thanks for requesting brownies for me.”

“You're welcome. And, Watson, thanks for helping me.”

“Well …” I looked at Shelby, who was grinning from ear to ear. “That's what friends are for.”

The word
friends
slipped out so naturally. While I was anticipating one of her patented grimaces, she perked up even further when I said it. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. Friends help friends.”

“But you mean we're
friends
?”

While Shelby had seemed dismissive about having friends, I had a feeling the reason she thought she didn't need a friend was because she never really had one before.

What would being friends with Shelby Holmes mean? While I had no doubt that I'd be talked down to, even possibly made fun of by others, I had to say that being friends with her would be anything but boring.

“Yeah.” I went to pat her shoulder, but she shrugged it away. “Friends.”

“Friends,” she replied with a nod.

I laughed. I never had to
declare my friendship with somebody before. Usually you hang out, keep hanging out, and you just become friends. But then again, I never had one like Shelby before.

We began walking around the backstage area, looking at all the dogs competing. “But how did you know that the dog at Pawesome Pooches was Daisy?”

“Well, I was aware that Zane had dyed Daisy's fur, so I knew what to look for. Plus, the biggest clue of all: the stuffed bone was in the room with her.”

It
was
right under my nose, but I didn't know what to look for.

At that moment, a line of hound dogs came from the stage. I couldn't help but laugh.

“Look at that.” I pointed to a brown bloodhound that was more wrinkled than my great-grandma. “He kind of looks like a detective, huh? I bet if we dressed him up in, I don't know, an old cape and matching deerstalker cap, with a pipe, he'd look just like a detective.” I was cracking myself up, but Shelby was not amused.

“Seriously, Watson?” she asked. “You think a
real
detective would wear a cap and smoke a pipe?” She shook her head and then shoved a lollipop in her mouth. “Preposterous!”

Okay, there was a good chance the majority of my teasing would come from Shelby, but I think I can handle it.

CHAPTER

30

T
he
next
afternoon
,
I
found
myself
sitting
back
on
our
front
stoop
,
writing
in
my
journal
.

It was weird not to have a case to think about. I spent last night telling Mom all about our day. She surprised me by playing a voice mail Dad had left yesterday for me, apologizing for not calling. He promised we'd talk tonight. “I really miss you, John,” he had said before he hung up. It wasn't the same as having him here, but it would have to be enough, for now.

I looked back at my journal and got back to reporting on yesterday. Daisy won the Toy division, while Sir Arthur didn't even place in the Non-Sporting group. That wasn't Sir Arthur's fault, but Shelby's. She decided to give the judge a taste of her own medicine and, after looking the judge up and down, said something that made the judge take a step back and disqualify Sir Arthur.

Poor dog.

Daisy didn't get Best in Show, which didn't seem to upset the Lacys, as they were simply happy to have their dog back. I'd been informed that Zane had been grounded “indefinitely,” and since I never got any of his friends' information, it looked like I was back to square one in the friend department.

Well, except I'd already made one friend.

I heard the front door open behind me, and it unnerved me how excited I was to see Shelby standing over me.

“That was something yesterday,” I remarked to her. “Although …” I hated that I went online this morning to see if anything had been written up about how we solved the case. “Did you see the article about the dog show and how Daisy was missing until right before showtime?”

“I don't bother with old news,” Shelby said with a sniff as she continued down the stairs.

“But you didn't get mentioned.” (Neither did I.) “It made it seem like she simply materialized out of thin air. You deserve more than baked goods for what you did. You should've gotten credit.”

“What do you want me to do, Watson? Hire a publicist? Nobody will ever believe that a ‘little girl' could do all that.”

“Yeah, but …” I said as I looked down at my hands. I held up my journal. “I've begun writing everything down here.
I'll
tell your story.”

Shelby tilted her head as she studied me. I knew her ego couldn't resist being written about. “Suit yourself.”

She skipped down the steps.

“
Or
”—Shelby turned around with a crooked smile—“there's a case I've been called in on that may require your expertise.”

“Like a partner?” I asked. While I knew that I couldn't hold a candle to Shelby's sleuthing, I could help her with dealing with normal people and things she didn't find to be “essential” enough to be in her brain attic.

“Yes, Watson. As my partner.”

I quickly stashed my journal away. There'd be plenty of time for me to record our adventures. As Mom kept reminding me, I wasn't going anywhere.

“Hurry up, Watson!” Shelby called behind her back as she started walking down the street. “We've got another case to solve.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Unlike Shelby, I have no trouble asking for help. I'm fortunate to have such wonderful people in my life who offered endless advice and encouragement while I was writing this book.

Everybody at Bloomsbury has been welcoming and supportive of Watson, Shelby, and me since day one. Huge thanks to my editor, Catherine Onder, and Hali Baumstein for their thoughtful notes; Diane Aronson and Nancy Seitz for reigning in the Queen of Split Infinitives; and the whole Bloosmbury crew, especially Cindy Loh, Cristina Gilbert, Lizzy Mason, Melissa Kavonic, Jessie Gang, Erica Barmash, Beth Eller, Emily Klopfer, and the sales department.

I've never had character illustrations before, and I'm so honored to have Erwin Madrid bring Watson and Shelby to life.

I can't begin to express how lucky I am to have such a fabulous team at
WME
represent me. I could never thank Erin Malone enough for encouraging me to write this book
solely from a one-sentence description. Also, I'm grateful to Laura Bonner for helping Watson and Shelby take over the world!

Jen Calonita is not only my author-tour bestie, she took time off from working on her own books to read a rough draft and offered such wonderful advice. Our next round of cupcakes is on me!

Fun fact: I am nowhere near as smart as Shelby. So I had to do a lot of research for this book. Colonel Erica Nelson, U.S. Army, spent time answering my questions about army-post living (special shout-out to my brother-in-law, Mark Vodak, for the hookup, and Erica's daughter Briana for being such a great reader!). I'm also grateful to Tiffani Diggs for letting me harass her on Facebook with questions about army posts. Julia Thorpe was so sweet to help a stranger with questions about having diabetes as a kid.