Mojo (Page 35)

“Her what route?”

“F-O-K-C. Feed Oklahoma City. It’s this charity thing she volunteered for.”

I explained how Ashton wasn’t always alone when she delivered meals to the Ockles and that there was a good chance the extra someone was Hector. But the more I described the Ockles, the more his interest faded. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone into so much detail about how fond Mrs. Ockle was of Ashton’s sandwiches.

He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense all right,” he said condescendingly. “A couple of old ladies saw someone they couldn’t actually identify, but you’re certain it was your deceased buddy Hector. Well, we’ll certainly take that into consideration.”

“Aren’t you going to write it down?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll write the whole thing up later.” He stared at me for a good thirty seconds. “Is that all?” he said finally.

“Are you going to do anything about what I told you?”

“Definitely. It’s all going into the file.” He picked up his pen and tapped it on the desktop.

“In the file, huh? Well, I hope someone reads that file because this is something that needs to be investigated.”

“I’m sure you do have your hopes up,” he said. “But I wouldn’t go spending that reward money yet if I were you.”

So that was it. He thought I was like the other hundred people who had probably sat in this office before me, making up stories just to get the reward.

“Look,” I said, “this info is legit.”

He gave me the silent stare again, still tapping the desktop with his pen, until finally he’s like, “Do you think you can find your way out?”

That was my cue to leave. “I’m just trying to help,” I told him.

“I appreciate that,” he said as I headed to the door. “In fact, I think this tip is so good I’ll probably turn it right over to the FBI—or the Andromeda Man.”

What a jerk. By the time I got home, I was more determined than ever to keep up my own investigation—forget the cops. But I didn’t have the slightest idea what my next move should be.

Then, after school the next day, as I was walking upstairs to my room, I got a phone call. I didn’t recognize the voice, but I did recognize this might just be the opportunity I’d been waiting for.

CHAPTER 25

The caller’s voice was muffled, probably intentionally disguised. It was a male voice, but it didn’t sound like a kid. Or maybe it was a kid trying to sound like an old guy. I couldn’t be sure—he’d blocked my caller ID. Whoever he was, he asked if I was the one doing research on the Ashton Browning case, and when I said yes, he told me we needed to talk.

“We are talking,” I said, but he’s like, “No. We need to talk face to face. I have something you need to see.”

I tried to find out more about who he was and what he had to show me, but he cut me short. If I wanted any more information, I’d have to meet him the next evening at seven o’clock. He’d even let me choose the place. That made the offer a little more tempting. I could pick a location where I wasn’t likely to have someone sneak up behind me and punch me in the back of the head—or worse. I chose Topper’s. If something bad ended up happening, at least I could have a good burger first.

“How’d you get this number, anyway?” I asked, but the line went dead.

This was very weird, I thought. It was probably the kind of thing that happened to New York Times reporters every day, and now it was happening to me.

Either that or someone was playing a practical joke on me. Immediately, I called Randy, but he swore up and down he didn’t have anything to do with it. In fact, he wanted to go along. I told him okay, but the truth was I started having second thoughts about the meeting.

I almost had a good excuse to blow it off too. Audrey couldn’t give me a ride to Topper’s the next evening. She was going to the movies with Trix.

“Can you believe it?” she gushed. “This is like the greatest thing ever.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I said. “But could you put it off until another night? I think this could be a really important case breaker.”

And she’s like, “Are you kidding me? Going out with Trix is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. I’m not postponing it.”

“But is it really a real date? I mean, did you ask her out on a date or did you just ask her to go to a movie?”

Her smile faded. “Just to go to a movie. But that doesn’t mean it can’t turn out to be like a real date.”

“Well, okay,” I said. “I guess I’ll skip the meeting, even though it could solve the whole case.” But truthfully I wasn’t that disappointed. It was like this was a sign warning me I’d be better off not taking a chance. Unfortunately, Audrey had to go and come up with a solution—I could take my parents’ car.

Now this might seem simple, but you don’t know my parents. For one thing, they only have one car. Can you believe that? Whose parents only have one car? They say they want to cut down on their carbon footprint, and also they only need one car because they both basically work the same schedule, but I think it’s mainly because they’re cheap.

So I’m like, “Yeah, right. You know how my parents are about letting me drive their car. Half the time my mom’s on call at the hospital, and when she’s not, they’re like, ‘What if we need it while you’re out driving around all over the place? We’ll be stuck.’ Like they ever go anywhere.”