Seconds Away

CHAPTER 33

Ema and I talked a bit more. I suggested that we should try to meet up at Bat Lady’s house later and see if we could find a way into the garage and the tunnels. Ema wasn’t sure that she could make it.

“When my mom’s not around, it’s pretty easy to sneak out. But when she’s around, like now…”

“I get it.”

“Mickey?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about this thing with the basketball team.”

“Thanks.”

It was funny how the mind takes weird, circuitous routes sometimes. Do you ever start thinking of something odd and try to trace back to what started your thought process and really, your mind is going all over the place? That was what was happening, so here was the trail my brain took: When Ema mentioned basketball, I tried to push the thought away, but the one thing that would help me escape the pain of getting thrown off the basketball team would be… well, playing basketball. That made me think of the last time I played basketball, which made me think about playing yesterday in Newark, which made me think about Tyrell Waters and what he might be doing, which made me think about his father, Detective Waters, which made me think about the ride home, which made me think about two things about Detective Waters:

One, he was working on busting a drug ring in Kasselton.

Two, he had known that Mr. Caldwell’s first name was Henry.

How would he know that-and were those two things related?

In fact, Detective Waters had asked me a bunch of questions about the Caldwells, trying very hard to sound casual. At the time I figured that he was just naturally curious about the shootings. But now I remembered what Tyrell had said-that his father probably would have been the one investigating the Caldwell shooting except he was busy “working on this big drug ring in your hometown.”

“What is it?” Ema asked.

I quickly explained about Detective Waters. Ema, as always, got it immediately.

“You have to ask him more about it.”

I agreed, but it was getting late. I texted Tyrell to see if he was at the courts. He wrote back that he wasn’t because his high school team, Weequahic High, had started practice today. Then Tyrell added: Can you get down here quick? We need people to scrimmage.

Damn, there wouldn’t be time. Even if I ran to the bus stop, it wouldn’t leave for another half hour and then the ride down… no way. I was showing the message to Ema when suddenly I heard footsteps coming down the stairs toward us. Ema stiffened. For a moment I thought that she was going to tell me to hide, but as the footsteps got closer, her face softened.

“Miss Emma?”

I recognized the British accent. It was Niles the butler.

“I’m here, Niles.”

Niles entered the room. He was one of those guys who probably never showed emotion on his face-stiff upper lip and all that-but he stared at me as though an elephant doing handstands had suddenly materialized in the basement.

“Niles, this is my friend Mickey.”

“We’ve met,” I said, standing up.

Once the surprise was off Niles’s face, he couldn’t have looked more pleased. “A visitor!”

Ema frowned. “Yes, Niles.”

“How marvelous. We don’t get many visitors, do we, Miss Emma?”

“You don’t have to look that shocked, Niles.”

“This isn’t shock, Miss Emma. This is delight. Will our guest be staying for dinner?”

“No,” Ema said. “In fact, Niles, can I ask you a really big favor?”

“Of course.”

“Can you drive us to Newark?”