Poached by Stuart Gibbs Page A

jumped two minutes ahead in the video. Four forty-five. The last of the tourists begrudgingly filed out of the koala viewing area. Then Kristi emerged and started toward her office, but Large Marge cut her off. There was no audio on the recording, but I knew Marge was demanding to be let into the viewing area and Kristi was telling her it was pointless because I wasn’t inside. Marge grew angrier and angrier, so finally Kristi capitulated and let her in.
    Dad jumped forward another few minutes. At 4:50 Marge and Kristi exited the viewing area, circled around to the keepers’ office, and went inside. Two minutes after that, Marge stormed out, looking angry, and stomped off toward the bazaar. After another three minutes, Kristi exited, having tended to Kazoo, and headed home for the night.
    Dad fast forwarded again. On the screen, it grew dark as the sun set and the video shifted from full-color to a night-vision green. Dad slowed the video a final time. At 5:31, I peeked out the door and looked around furtively. When I didn’t see any security guards, I bolted for the back gate of the property.
    Dad froze the video of me in mid-stride. “This is what grabbed everyone’s attention,” he said, pointing to the monitor.
    My backpack was now on both shoulders. I knew it was still empty, but that wasn’t obvious in the image.
    â€œLooks like that backpack is full,” Arthur said.
    I turned, surprised to find him watching over my shoulder. “Well, it’s not.”
    Arthur shrugged. “I just said it looks that way.”
    I was about to tell him to mind his own business when Dad cut me off. “It does ,” he said. “And that, combined with your suspicious behavior when you exited the exhibit, has raised a lot of concerns.”
    â€œI wasn’t being suspicious,” I said defensively. “I was looking around for the security guards.”
    â€œThat’s not suspicious?” Dad asked.
    I suddenly realized why he was on edge. He’d already seen the footage and he knew it made me look bad. “I was looking for them because they’d been chasing me,” I explained. “Not because I’d stolen Kazoo.”
    â€œ I know that,” Dad told me. “But we’re talking about how it appears to other people.”
    â€œIf Marge and all the other security guards were already chasing me, why would I pick that very moment to go steal Kazoo?” I asked. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
    â€œMaybe not,” Dad said. “And yet all the evidence is pointing directly at you. It’s not just that they have this video of you. It’s that there’s no video of anyone else.”
    The gravity of my situation suddenly sank in. I felt terrible. It wasn’t merely fear of being framed for a crime I didn’t commit. I was also ashamed. I knew my father didn’t believe I’d taken Kazoo, but one look in his eyes told me he was even more distressed by the situation than I was.
    â€œThere’s no one else at all?” I asked.
    â€œIt doesn’t look that way,” Dad said sadly. “Security scanned through the rest of the footage and didn’t see anyone else enter or leave the exhibit all night.”
    â€œThey only scanned it?” I said. “No one ever watched it in real time?”
    â€œNo,” Dad admitted. “Because that would take twelve hours, which probably seemed like a waste of time given that they already had video of you red-handed. That’s why I asked for the footage, though. I figured I could go through it more carefully and see if anything interesting crops up.”
    â€œNow?” Arthur asked. “Sorry, but I can’t let you guys stay for twelve hours. . . .”
    â€œI wasn’t planning on that,” Dad told him. “I’ll watch this myself at home tonight. I just wanted Teddy to see this much so he can understand what