Payback Page 4

  But what if his dad answered and was even sketchier than Eliot? What if he was the type to come after me with a baseball bat if I started accusing his son of stealing?

  There was only one wreck of a car with two flat tires in the driveway though. So maybe his dad was out. I realized my palms and pits were sweating already. When nobody answered, I knocked a bit harder. Still nothing. I was just picking up my bike when I heard the side door open.

  “Dylan? What are you doing here?”

  Eliot stood on the porch, all bleary-eyed, his dark hair a matted mess and that welt on his face looking even nastier now.

  “Uh…hi, Eliot. Look, I need to ask you something.” I gulped. “But…um… is your dad home?”

  “Why would you want to know that?” he said, squinting at me. “I’ll tell you where he is. Working at an oil camp out west. He sends me monthly rent checks for this dump.”

  Chapter Seven

  For a second I didn’t think I’d heard right. “What? You mean you live here by yourself?” Gran’s words echoed in my head. Hard luck.

  “Yeah, but just for a while,” he said. “My dad told me he’ll be back as soon as he saves up some cash. But he sends me a bit now and then. To get by on, like I said. And I got to know Jeff Walker ’cause he used to come around here when my dad needed to borrow his truck. To haul junk and stuff. So sometimes he still hangs out here. Want to come in?”

  I was so shocked I couldn’t even say anything. I just stared at him as he stood there in his dirty pajamas and bare feet on the sagging side porch, looking totally pathetic. He had a stained dish-towel or something wrapped around his right hand..

  “Oh, uh, well…” Crap, what if Jeff Walker turned up? While I was still here! “Nah, I have to get to work. Just wanted to ask if, uh, if you happened to pick up my grandmother’s wallet outside when you left last night. We figure it must have fallen out of her purse or something.”

  Eliot’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. You don’t think…”

  “No, no, not at all. We just thought maybe you’d found it, and that you’d bring it back later today. So I was just…checking. To put her mind at ease.” Did he notice how fast I was talking and how unsteady my voice was?

  “That sucks. Maybe she left it at her boyfriend’s house. Or maybe it fell out in his car?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully and smiled at me.

  In his car. Never even thought of that. What if it actually had fallen out in his car?

  “Hmm. Yeah, good idea. Thanks,” I said. “I’ll get her to check with Buddy. Later, Eliot.”

  Later? Why had I said that? What if he thought it was an invitation? I picked up my bike and rode off without even looking back. And passed the black pickup truck rolling along the street toward Eliot’s house. I’d made it out of there just in time.

  As soon as I was far enough away from Eliot’s street and Jeff’s truck to feel safe, I stopped my bike and dialed the apartment. Gran answered on the first ring.

  “Just thought of something, Gran,” I said. “Did your wallet maybe fall out in Buddy’s car?”

  “Oh my gosh, I never even thought of that. Let me check.” She hung up, and I kept on riding. A few minutes later she called back. “You were right! It was wedged between my seat and the door. Good thinking. Thanks, Dylan. I feel a lot better about everything now. Especially your friend, Eliot.”

  “He’s not my friend,” I reminded her, but she’d already hung up. Eliot deserved to know that he’d been right about where the wallet was. But I sure wasn’t going to go back and tell him right now and risk getting more bruises from Jeff.

  I had more than an hour to kill before my shift, so I just kept on riding my bike through the side streets. I rode past Monica’s place, but I knew how much she liked sleeping in on the weekend. So I slowly wound my way back to the main street.

  The first thing I saw was commotion. A police car, some yellow tape across the sidewalk, flapping in the breeze. Just a few doors away from the Scoop Coupe. My first thought was to turn tail and ride away fast. But I was too curious. Because this time something had happened and I wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time for a change. So I really needed to know what was going on.

  When I wheeled up to the curb, I saw that it was Officer Donahue on the scene instead of Nicole, thank God. The plate-glass window of George’s Jewelers had been boarded up, and someone was sweeping glass off the sidewalk. The police officer leaned against his cruiser, making notes. He grinned when he spotted me standing there.

  “Hello, Dylan,” he said. “Know anything about this one?”

  “Why would I? And why does everyone always ask me that?” I said.

  Officer Donahue winked at me. “I’m sure you’re well aware of the answer to that one,” he said.

  “Okay, right. No, I have no clue what happened here. Or who or when or why either. But I’m sure you’ll tell me if I wait here long enough.”

  He nodded, laughing, then pointed at a security camera over the doorway. A piece of duct tape was stuck over the lens.

  “Smash-and-grab here last night,” he said. “They got some gold jewelry, but none of the diamonds, since George puts those in the safe when he leaves. Pretty good haul anyway. They taped the lens over first. Would’ve needed a ladder. When we reviewed the tape, we couldn’t see who did it. He was wearing a mask. Then the screen went black. And then there’s that rock.”

  He pointed at a rock lying under the window. It looked like it had blood streaks on it. I felt something curdle in my gut. I’d just seen a ladder. On Eliot’s front porch. And his hand had been wrapped up with a stained towel. Blood stained? I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry, and it felt like a hairball was stuck in my throat.

  “You okay?” Donahue asked, squinting.

  “Yeah, good, fine,” I said. “That really sucks for George though. Hope he was insured.”

  “He was,” Donahue told me. “He’s really upset though. First time this has happened.”

  “That’s lousy. Poor guy.” I needed to get out of there fast but didn’t want to be obvious.

  But then Robbie came strolling along the sidewalk, rattling the keys in her hand.

  “Oh good, you’re early, Dylan,” she called. “I need help changing the oil in the deep fryers. Hope everything’s okay over there, officer. Are we in any imminent danger?”

  “Definitely not,” the officer told her.

  “Be right there, Robbie. Duty calls,” I said to Officer Donahue as I locked my bike to a lamppost and headed inside.

  I was antsy during my entire shift that afternoon, thinking about everything I knew but hadn’t bothered to share with the police. Because, yet again, I couldn’t be sure that it even meant anything. Though I knew deep down that it had to.

  Most of my friends stopped by for snacks and hung out in the booths for a while, giving me a hard time and calling me Scoops. I didn’t mind so much, and neither did Robbie, as long as they were ordering food. There were plenty of customers, probably because the sun had come out and it was actually starting to feel like spring. Monica dropped in too and stuck around to talk to her friends for a while. Now and then I caught her watching me, and when I shot her a smile, she sort of waved and half smiled. I hoped she wasn’t still mad at me. But one of the great things about my girlfriend was that she never stayed mad very long.

  Around four in the afternoon Gran and Buddy came strolling in, holding hands. As usual they were smiling.

  “Hey there, Dylan,” Buddy said. “Having a busy day, I hope?”

  “Yup,” I said. “Steady stream of customers.”

  Gran was beaming. “I love seeing you standing behind a counter, wearing an apron and earning a living,” she said. “It makes me feel all warm and tingly inside.”

  “That’s just great, Gran,” I told her. “So same as usual, I guess?”

  “Nope, Lori and I are changing it up this time,” Buddy said. “Instead of waffle cones, we’re having regular ones.”

  “Wow. Th
at’s really adventurous of you guys.”

  I started scooping Gran’s strawberry cone while she stood beside the booth, talking to Monica and her friends. I handed her cone to Buddy, then started packing his butterscotch one. He was saying something about how he’d loved that flavor since he was a kid. Only one he ever chose, because there were so many dumb flavor combos nowadays, blah, blah, blah.

  But by that point I couldn’t hear a single word he was saying. My heart was thudding so hard, it sounded like a drumbeat in my ears. My hands had started shaking too, and I dropped a scoop of ice cream on the floor as I stared at the window.

  “Whoa, watch what you’re doing, Dylan,” said Robbie.

  I couldn’t even respond. My jaw was frozen shut, all the words trapped inside. Because I’d just spotted him standing in the window, staring at me, and my legs felt as if they’d turned into Silly Putty. Jeff Walker. Dark eyes glaring.

  Pointing a finger straight at me.

  Chapter Eight

  And then he was gone. For a second I almost wondered if I was so paranoid I’d begun seeing things. Until the black pickup truck went rolling slowly past the shop. I was pretty sure my whole body was vibrating by that point. I grabbed some paper towels and wiped up the mess.

  “Did anyone see anything at the window just now?” I asked nobody in particular.

  “Like what?” Robbie said. “I can see quite a few customers in line waiting to order.”

  “Right. Sorry. Got distracted for a sec.” I started rescooping Buddy’s cone.

  I couldn’t think straight for the rest of my shift. I was messing up orders and giving people the wrong change. And my eyes kept on drifting to the window. Why was he pointing at me? What had I done to deserve getting threatened again?

  I kept thinking about how I’d seen Jeff’s truck when I was leaving Eliot’s place that morning. And no doubt he’d seen me too. Maybe that was the reason. And if he didn’t want me anywhere near Eliot Barnes, well, that was fine with me. I planned on staying as far away as possible from those two jerks.

  “Dylan? Did you hear me?”

  I realized I had been staring at the stainless-steel countertop, making swipes with the dishcloth as my brain spun in nervous circles. When I looked up Robbie was looking at me.

  “I said, there’s someone in the window waving at you. That strange kid from yesterday. Maybe he wants another milkshake. But I need to close up and get going. So head outside and let him know it’s too late. I’ll lock up behind you, okay?”

  The shop was totally empty. Everyone had gone home for dinner. I thought I remembered Monica saying something about meeting up at her place later. But nothing was registering, because all I could see was Eliot’s hangdog face in the window and that glowing-red welt. When he waved me over with his bandaged hand, I felt like bolting out the back door and sprinting all the way home. My desperate brain tried to hatch a plan to get rid of him.

  “We’re closed,” I told him through the window. “And I’ve got to be somewhere right after work. Bye.” When I turned around, he started knocking on the glass.

  “What?” I said. I could feel my cheeks starting to burn.

  “It’s your bike. Better come check it out.” He pointed toward the post where I’d locked it up.

  Oh crap. Now what? “See ya tomorrow, Robbie,” I said and stepped outside.

  And groaned out loud. Both bike tires were flat. Then I realized the tires had actually been slashed. When I glanced at Eliot, he was staring at me with bug eyes.

  “It was Jeff Walker, wasn’t it?” I said. “He was out here a while ago, threatening me through the window. Why did he do this?”

  “Don’t know,” Eliot mumbled, turning away. “I don’t know why he does a lot of stuff.”

  I grabbed his arm and spun him around so he would look at me. I put my face up really close to his. “I think you do know,” I said. “Look, something is going on, and I want you to tell me, Eliot. Did you have anything to do with the broken window at the jewelry store?”

  “Ouch,” he said, shaking loose. “That hurt, dude. Anyway, Walker always makes me do stuff I don’t want to do. He’s going to fence the jewelry. Just like everything else.”

  He looked like he might cry, which made me even madder.

  “Look, dude,” I said, poking him sharply in the chest. “Stay away from me. I don’t want anything else to do with you or your crappy friend.” I went over to the lamppost to unlock my bike and wheel it home. Until I could afford new tires, I would have to get around town now on foot.

  “I think I might have some bike tires at home,” I heard him say. “I can replace yours and lend you my bike to ride until yours is fixed.”

  I turned slowly. “Why would you even think I’d want to go anywhere near your place? After everything I just said to you?”

  Eliot shrugged. “I figure I owe you because of Walker. He saw you on my street this morning. He doesn’t want me hanging around with you. He’s trying to scare you off.”

  “Well, it worked. I’ll manage without my bike until I can get new tires.”

  “He’s out of town for the night,” Eliot said. “Drove down to the city for a party. So nothing bad will happen if you come over to my place for a few minutes.”

  I paused for a second to let it sink in. My fury was starting to seep away. Maybe because he looked so busted up standing there. Maybe because I already felt guilty because of the vinegar-instead-of-honey thing. For a few minutes I’d treated him like crap, the same way everyone else did. And it made me feel a bit sick. I didn’t think I’d ever laid eyes on anyone in my life who seemed so alone. He wished he had a gran like mine. I wondered if he even had anyone who really cared about him.

  So I said it. “Okay, Eliot. We’ll trade bikes, and then I’m gone. And tomorrow, after you fix mine, you can bring it back here and we can trade back. How come you don’t ride it anyway?”

  “Easier to disappear if you’re walking,” he said. “Especially if someone’s chasing you.”

  I gulped. That was probably the last thing I needed to hear. And then we started walking, Eliot Barnes and me, over to the nasty part of town. Someplace I’d always tried my best to avoid up until now. I texted Monica to let her know I was running late. I planned on getting out of there really fast. Just grabbing his bike and taking off.

  “I’ll wait out here,” I told Eliot when we were standing in his driveway. I felt all jittery, as if eyes were in the windows watching me.

  “Okay, my bike is out on the porch,” he said. “Be right back.”

  Out on the porch. How would he find anything in that junk heap? I stood there shifting from one foot to the other. I was so nervous that I needed to go to the bathroom, in a hurry. And as much as I so did not want to step inside that house, I had no choice.

  “Eliot. Have to use your can, okay?” I called to him.

  “Sure. Just down the hall. First door on your right,” he yelled from the porch.

  I could hear him flinging stuff around out there when I stepped into the kitchen. It was a disaster area, dirty and greasy, the counter and sink stacked with gross-looking dishes. I couldn’t even tell what color the floor once was. I headed for the hall. Opened the first door on my right.

  “Wait! I meant on your left!” Eliot yelled, then came bolting down the hall.

  But it was too late. I’d opened the door already, clearly the wrong door. To a bedroom, or what had been once. Now it was a storage room like the front porch, only all this stuff looked new. There were tools in there, and expensive team sportswear, and boxes of designer running shoes. And a couple of brand-new tires.

  “Oh crap,” Eliot said behind me. “I meant on your left.”

  I just stared at his thin, miserable face, wondering how someone could possibly have such a messed-up life. Then I pushed past him and went into the gross bathroom. I headed straight back out the door again without saying a word. I picked up my bike and started rolling it away.

  “Wait, Dylan,�
� Eliot called behind me. “I can explain everything.”

  “Way too late,” I said.

  By then I was already calling Nicole. Except she didn’t pick up. And then Eliot caught up with me and started blabbing beside my ear.

  “I’m really sorry, Dylan. You have no clue how sorry I am that I ever got into this. But he needs somewhere to stash all the crap he steals. Or should I say, makes me steal.”

  “Yeah, because you’re younger than he is. You’d only get a slap on the wrist since you’re considered a young offender,” I told him. “But he’d get charged. Can’t you see that the knob is using you? Why do you hang around with him anyway? He yells at you all the time, even punches you. It makes zero sense.”

  “I don’t know. At first it was just because I wanted someone to chill with. But by the time I realized what I was getting into, he had all kinds of dirt on me. So I owed him big-time.”

  “That seems like a stupid excuse,” I said, although I pretty much knew what it felt like to get in over your head. “You could have gone to the cops.”

  “Yeah right.” He shook his head. “You just don’t understand. You have tons of friends.”

  “That’s because I’m not a total jerk,” I told him.

  “And you’ve got a job too. What’s that like? Nobody will hire me. I gave up applying for jobs.”

  That had to suck big-time. But this conversation was going nowhere, and he wouldn’t stop whining. And there was nothing I could do to help out this loser. I didn’t want anything else to do with him. All I wanted was to get over to Monica’s place, hang out with my friends and put this whole lousy day behind me.

  “Look, I’m outta here, get it? So just go home, Eliot.”

  Except it didn’t work. The faster I walked, the faster Eliot walked. He was stubborn like crazy, I had to give him that much. I wasn’t even looking at him, and he was keeping pace with me as if I’d invited him along. And even though it was pissing me off, I was shocked at how hard he was trying.