The Case of the Missing Mascot (A Sherlock Shakespeare Mystery Book 1) by Sydney Katt Page B
Authors: Sydney Katt
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room right now. You'd just spend the afternoon trying to talk to her through the door." After a pause, she added, "You're a good friend."
Yeah. Tell that to Drew.
After I'd put away my phone, I pulled a random textbook out of my bag and resigned myself to studying whichever subject it was until lunch was over. And, of course, to carry on the day's streak of amazing luck, I pulled out my econ book instead of history or literature or anything I'd actually want to read. Oh well, it was the subject I needed to study for if I didn't want to end up repeating it next semester.
I was about a page into the evils of applying ceilings and floors to supply and demand when someone pulled out the chair across from me. I looked up expectantly, hoping it was Drew. No such luck.
"What do you want, Ricardo?"
He leaned forward in the chair and grinned. "Why, I'm here to keep up the pretense of pursuing you now that shit with Encyclopedia Brown finally hit the fan."
I sighed and closed my textbook. He wasn't Drew, but he was still a shield of sorts. "And should I be on board with this or annoyed as usual? You saved my life, so letting you call this one is the least I can do."
Ricardo reached across the table and covered one of my hands with his. "It really depends on whether you want the spies to report back to your man that you're considering hooking up with someone else the very next day after a big fight. I can spin it to my advantage either way."
Ugh. The spies. It would serve Tom right to think I'd already moved on, but we still hadn't technically broken up. Since I didn't want to deal with the fallout that would come if the rest of the school thought I was now cheating on the sainted Tom Brown, I pulled my hand away.
"Good call." He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out under the table, again forcing me to fold my legs up into the chair. "You'll understand if I don't leave yet. Can't look affected by being shot down, you know."
"It's fine. Economics was boring anyway."
"That's why I rarely go to it."
Come to think of it, this might be the first time I'd ever seen Ricardo in the cafeteria. "Don't you usually go off campus for lunch?"
He shrugged. "I've got a test next period. Thought I'd take it. Besides, it's sad times right now."
"Right. Because your hangout burned down the other day."
"That. And my supplier was trapped in the bathroom when it happened."
"Is he okay?"
"Nope." His gaze went far away for a moment before focusing back on me. "Thing is, it could've been me. I was supposed to meet him there, but got caught up dealing with a call from Keek."
Right, the fire. Since the guy who'd died hadn't been anyone I'd known from school or around town, I'd pretty much forgotten about it already. "Um, how is, uh... Kiki?"
He rolled his eyes. "She's still on the warpath because I'm not into public displays as much as she is."
Briefly, I wondered whether he was calling Kiki a girl because that's how Kiki thought of himself or if it was just part of the cover. Probably both, if I had to guess. "Being someone's secret would be hard on anyone, Ricardo."
"You know, my friends call me Card."
"Oh. Are we friends?"
"Better or worse, you're in the inner circle now." He cleared his throat and changed the subject abruptly. "How's the investigation going? Save Homecoming yet?"
"Almost. I'm pretty sure Francois LePort is planning to serve Champers to the governor for dinner on Saturday night." I leaned forward, glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear me and filled him in on what happened at the bookstore last night—minus the Tom part.
He looked skeptical. "Gourmet chefs serve pork all the time. That lead is flimsy as shit."
"On the surface, yeah, but he was up at Karmic on Friday afternoon threatening Irene because she got his meat supplier shut down. Turns out, you can't just buy suckling pig at the grocery store."
"But our mascot is supposed to be a different kind of pig, right?"
"Teacup,
Yeah. Tell that to Drew.
After I'd put away my phone, I pulled a random textbook out of my bag and resigned myself to studying whichever subject it was until lunch was over. And, of course, to carry on the day's streak of amazing luck, I pulled out my econ book instead of history or literature or anything I'd actually want to read. Oh well, it was the subject I needed to study for if I didn't want to end up repeating it next semester.
I was about a page into the evils of applying ceilings and floors to supply and demand when someone pulled out the chair across from me. I looked up expectantly, hoping it was Drew. No such luck.
"What do you want, Ricardo?"
He leaned forward in the chair and grinned. "Why, I'm here to keep up the pretense of pursuing you now that shit with Encyclopedia Brown finally hit the fan."
I sighed and closed my textbook. He wasn't Drew, but he was still a shield of sorts. "And should I be on board with this or annoyed as usual? You saved my life, so letting you call this one is the least I can do."
Ricardo reached across the table and covered one of my hands with his. "It really depends on whether you want the spies to report back to your man that you're considering hooking up with someone else the very next day after a big fight. I can spin it to my advantage either way."
Ugh. The spies. It would serve Tom right to think I'd already moved on, but we still hadn't technically broken up. Since I didn't want to deal with the fallout that would come if the rest of the school thought I was now cheating on the sainted Tom Brown, I pulled my hand away.
"Good call." He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out under the table, again forcing me to fold my legs up into the chair. "You'll understand if I don't leave yet. Can't look affected by being shot down, you know."
"It's fine. Economics was boring anyway."
"That's why I rarely go to it."
Come to think of it, this might be the first time I'd ever seen Ricardo in the cafeteria. "Don't you usually go off campus for lunch?"
He shrugged. "I've got a test next period. Thought I'd take it. Besides, it's sad times right now."
"Right. Because your hangout burned down the other day."
"That. And my supplier was trapped in the bathroom when it happened."
"Is he okay?"
"Nope." His gaze went far away for a moment before focusing back on me. "Thing is, it could've been me. I was supposed to meet him there, but got caught up dealing with a call from Keek."
Right, the fire. Since the guy who'd died hadn't been anyone I'd known from school or around town, I'd pretty much forgotten about it already. "Um, how is, uh... Kiki?"
He rolled his eyes. "She's still on the warpath because I'm not into public displays as much as she is."
Briefly, I wondered whether he was calling Kiki a girl because that's how Kiki thought of himself or if it was just part of the cover. Probably both, if I had to guess. "Being someone's secret would be hard on anyone, Ricardo."
"You know, my friends call me Card."
"Oh. Are we friends?"
"Better or worse, you're in the inner circle now." He cleared his throat and changed the subject abruptly. "How's the investigation going? Save Homecoming yet?"
"Almost. I'm pretty sure Francois LePort is planning to serve Champers to the governor for dinner on Saturday night." I leaned forward, glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear me and filled him in on what happened at the bookstore last night—minus the Tom part.
He looked skeptical. "Gourmet chefs serve pork all the time. That lead is flimsy as shit."
"On the surface, yeah, but he was up at Karmic on Friday afternoon threatening Irene because she got his meat supplier shut down. Turns out, you can't just buy suckling pig at the grocery store."
"But our mascot is supposed to be a different kind of pig, right?"
"Teacup,
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