Chapter 16
by 
Gray Gremlin
What's next?
Chapter 14: Competition
“She kick you out of the house for lasting two seconds?”
Phineas paused while still half-asleep as he walked into his kitchen. It had been a long, restless night with him and Jake returning to their homes well after 1 am. They’d stayed at Tarr Manor for several hours after the break-in. Regina’s whole demeanor changed after the Mask Brothers attempted to steal the diary. She’d dropped the seduction act while Phinn waited outside her bedroom after checking every hiding place so the young woman could put on more clothes before the police arrived. During that time, several neighbors came over to see what had happened. A few of Regina’s friends showed up shortly after the police arrived due to a message she’d sent them.
The pair of unofficial private detectives had reviewed what happened with the police multiple times as the Edgewater Police Department slowly realized the home invasion might become a high-profile case. First, they’d dealt with the initially arriving officers. Then, it turned into a sergeant before Detective McCall of Robbery interrogated the teens with increasing attitude. Eventually, Deputy Police Chief Reyhall rolled into the crime scene around midnight while several of Regina’s friends helped board up the broken windows. Deputy Asshall, as the teen sleuths nicknamed him long ago, warned them in no uncertain terms that he’d gladly send them to the juvenile detention center out in the boondocks if he caught them anywhere near the treasure hunt again.
“Putnam Glynn Farris!”
“Busted,” Phinn whispered with a smirk as their mother scolded his thirteen-year-old brother for his comment.
“What? They talked about him on the news this morning. Didn’t you warn him about that?” Putnam challenged.
While Phinn poured a glass of orange juice, he paused to see Pamela hesitating. Before she could agree, Phinn countered his annoying brother’s argument.
“Jake and I saved Regina. Imagine what would’ve happened if we hadn’t been at her house. The cops might not want to admit it, but her neighbors and friends called us heroes.”
“Heroes? Haha! Try pests who are going to end up—”
“That’s enough, Putty. Your brother did a good deed last night,” Pamela declared after she convinced herself first.
“Mom!”
“Stop bickering. Can you please get along long enough for me to check on the laundry?” Pamela asked, although her sons knew it to be more of a warning than a question.
Phinn waited until she’d gone down into the basement before he finally decided to respond to his brother’s initial comment. Bringing up his phone, Phinn found the picture he’d slyly taken at one point last night.
“Hey, Pug, does this look like Regina kicked me out of bed?” On the screen, the busty brunette’s big tits nearly escaped her sexy red and black negligee. “Don’t jerk off too much.”
“Wha–How…No way!” the cocky Farris brother sputtered.
“Tell Mom I went next door,” Phinn said, walking out the house’s back door.
It only took the teen twenty seconds to leave his house, walk across to the Magnums, and enter their kitchen. Aware that Mrs. Magnum started an important trial today, Phinn knew her husband would continue their tradition of being in the courtroom until the first break to support her. That left only Libby, who was likely sleeping in the Magnum house at this time of day.
“Yo, Jake, you got anything to eat. I’m starving, and Pugsley’s acting up again,” Phinn called out, opening the refrigerator.
Disappointed by what he saw inside, Phinn started to close the door before stopping. Looking down, he spotted a pair of pleading eyes staring up at him. The little wag sealed the deal. Finding a couple of pieces of sandwich turkey, Phinn broke them into smaller pieces and dropped them in front of Bandit.
“Can’t disappoint my little buddy.”
While the bulldog gobbled down his extra morning treat, a woman in her late fifties of Hispanic heritage entered the kitchen and immediately placed her hands on her hips. Taking in the scene, she frowned at the kid from next door.
“Phineas! He’s going to get fat,” she scolded with a finger wag.
“The poor guy was starving, Esmeralda,” the bespectacled teen defended his action.
“He was not. I bring him treats every time I come here, and you know that!” the Magnums’ part-time housekeeper reminded.
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Phinn apologized before mouthing, “Not sorry” at Bandit. The bulldog rubbed against his ankle in thank you.
“Now let’s see. Aha!” Esmeralda exclaimed, finding what she expected in the cabinet. Spotting Phinn about to leave the room, the housekeeper pointed at the kitchen table. “No, no, no! You sit. I’ll make pancakes.”
“You don’t have to do that, Esmeralda. It’s not part of your duties,” Phinn pointed out. He suddenly felt guilty for yelling out about breakfast.
“I wouldn’t have any duties if it weren’t for you. I never forget,” the older woman stated, walking past Phinn and poking his ribs. “Besides, you need more meat on those bones. Being that skinny is not healthy.”
“You sound like my mom,” he groaned.
“Mothers know best. Remember that!”
Phinn nodded. He could never argue with Esmeralda. One of Busybody, Incorporated’s first cases had been proving the housekeeper’s innocence after a client accused her of stealing. She’d been forever grateful that the three youngsters had exposed the client’s college-aged son as the actual thief. Since the allegation, Esmeralda sought to maintain a professional distance from her clients, with the lone exception being the Magnums and their son’s two friends.
“I see you boys made the news again. You be careful. Gold fever causes men to do crazy things,” Esmeralda warned while starting his breakfast. She peppered the junior private eye with questions while she cooked. Although she had no clients in the Tarrs’ neighborhood, Esmeralda passed on gossip she’d heard from other housekeepers.
“We need to give Jake a tutorial about laundry soon,” Phinn revealed before launching into the tale of his shrunken swim trunks.
“No!” Esmeralda gasped when Phinn told her about how Jake washed his new swimsuit. “That boy…”
“I know. This needs to be addressed before college. Can you imagine his wardrobe after the first few weeks?”
“I’ll talk to his mother. Liberty learned after some time,” Esmeralda declared, returning to her cooking.
The pancakes turned out as delicious as always. Both Phinn and Bandit thought so.
“Phineas!”
Phinn’s head shot up guiltily after he’d been caught slipping a piece of bacon under the table to Bandit. Just as he threw his hands up in the air, Jake finally entered the kitchen. Spotting the pancakes, he grinned.
“You only get Phineas’ leftovers. I have cleaning to do,” the housekeeper declared, having a schedule to keep as she had two more homes to clean on Mondays.
“Ah, but I love your pancakes. Is that bacon?” Jake queried, looking at Phinn’s plate.
“Not anymore. Bandit and I took care of it,” his partner cracked, dropping the last piece in his mouth.
“Wait, I can do some of the cleaning if you make me more,” Jake offered.
“Ha! I know how you clean, Jacob. You should’ve gotten up sooner,” Esmeralda said, wiping the grill.
“I was in the shower.”
“Taking that long in the shower is a sin,” Esmeralda admonished, causing Jake to blush.
“I wasn’t…No, I didn’t do anything besides wash myself. I swear!” the stocky teen protested, causing Phinn to smirk.
“And where is your sister?” the housekeeper inquired. “Still sleeping the day away?”
“I don’t know. Probably. She wasn’t in the bathroom with me!”
Phinn started to **** on his final piece of pancake at how Jake’s statement inadvertently came out.
“What? Eww! Get out…that’s disgusting.”
Esmeralda cursed under her breath in Spanish before leaving the room.
“You said it,” Phinn replied after gulping down a large sip of milk.
“I tell you, I think Sleeping Beauty has a fake ID. I heard she’s been seen out at the bars with her friends,” Jake whispered conspiratorially. “We should bust her.”
“We’re not ratting out Libby. Besides, we have a fricking case already,” Phinn reminded, rolling his eyes.
“I know. Damn, you look like shit,” Jake noted, digging into the pair of remaining pancakes.
“Kinda hard to sleep after last night,” his fellow detective responded. “Tell me again what you overheard.”
"Something like 'This has gotten out of hand. It better. You promised,' but I can't be a hundred percent certain. I think Regina's last line might have been a threat. It's hard to tell the tone when cops are all around," Jake said.
“I’m not complaining. I could only hear her muffled voice through the door while she changed earlier. I should’ve thought ahead and placed my phone in the room while I checked the closets and under the bed,” Phinn chided himself. “Who knows what she might have told her friends or family.”
“You know, I should’ve been the one who checked for another intruder. I’m bigger,” Jake reminded.
“And more likely to lose your mind and get in a quickie with the big-breasted suspect.”
“Is Regina a suspect?”
“What do you think? She’s lying through her teeth, slipping into lingerie, and whispering during suspicious conversations,” Phinn stated, sighing at his friend’s disbelief that a sexy woman could be a criminal.
“Fine, fine. I won’t trust Regina… for now,” Jake replied. “What’s our next move?”
“Let’s go over what we found in Clara Livingston’s diary,” Phinn began. “First, she appears to have been Jason Tarr’s friend-turned-lover. There isn’t any evidence in the entries about an engagement–”
“But Regina said they were engaged,” Jake interrupted to point out.
“Regina also claimed a short time earlier that Jason didn’t have a favorite or special woman in his life. So, take her statement with a grain of salt,” Phinn directed. “Clara’s entries don’t mention Thornbeard. However, there are vague mentions of Jason’s hunt for a fortune that will claim the fame he always wanted. Several comments also imply she visited Jason at the harbor as he outfitted Fleetwing for the hunt.”
“What about Jason’s partner?” Jake brought up.
“The initials EJ aren’t much to work with, but they are at least a start,” Phinn said. “We’ve found ways to use less in the past.”
“But those cases didn’t stretch back almost a hundred and fifty years ago,” Jake argued. “Didn’t you see anybody with a name that matches those initials when you looked through the papers?”
“Nothing that stood out. Plus, I didn’t find anything when I gave another quick scan while the police searched the mansion and took statements,” Phinn recounted.
“If those family archives don’t help us, how will we learn EJ’s real name?”
“We also have Clara Livingston’s name to check against. Maybe there is something about her or the Tarrs in connection to a person with a last name starting with the letter J. It might not be much, but it’s somewhere to begin,” Phinn suggested.
“Library?” Jake checked.
“I think we need to split up. I’ll handle the library portion while you go stake out the Tarr mansion like you did last night,” Phinn said, laying out the plan he’d developed during the night. “However, your old sedan sticks out. When is your dad coming home?”
“Probably not any time soon. Usually, after he sticks around for the start of a trial, he’ll head over for the bar’s lunch crowd. And don’t even suggest asking Libby,” Jake warned preemptively.
“Do I look suicidal?” Phinn shot back. “Maybe see if Luke’s around.”
“After yesterday? He’s either grounded or freaking out about it coming,” Jake guessed before another name popped into his head. “I can always see if Andre is available. His old SUV is at least different from my antique.”
"Hmm, I guess that's better than nothing. I would've preferred Luke's newish car since you'll be sitting in a nicer neighborhood. See if he's willing to help. I'm going to grab my things," Phinn said before heading back to his home.
Of course, he immediately met resistance when his mother asked where he was going. Putnam didn’t help by making snide comments.
“Like Mom’s going to believe you’re working on a summer project for the school paper.”
"I am. Maybe you should read about Silas Mosley, Pug. That way, you don't end up spending your life behind bars. Because that's where we both know you're headed," Phinn hissed, out of earshot of their mother.
“Mom! Phinn said I’m going to jail again,” Putnam tattled.
“I said no such thing,” the older Farris brother declared. “Do you see, Mom? This attitude and these interruptions are why I need to work on my paper for Miss Pendelton at the library. At least, I can get some peace and quiet there.”
"Nobody believes that you're writing a paper," Putnam repeated as their mother rejoined them.
“I don’t know, Phinny. I do have my doubts. I think I should contact Sara Pendelton to see if this paper is legitimate,” Pamela said, having serious doubts about her eldest’s honesty.
“No problem, Mom. Contact her,” Phinn replied, heading upstairs to his room.
While grabbing his things, the teen sleuth sent his English teacher a message. He asked her just to confirm the paper and subject matter if his mother called her. A promise to explain later followed.
“What did you do now?” came the reply from the young teacher.
“I tell you, I’m freaking out, man!” Andre greeted as he hopped out of his SUV in the Dillingday Library’s parking lot.
“It’s a simple stakeout,” Phinn insisted.
"Not about that, Farris! Luke's already grounded for two weeks after the Coast Guard contacted his dad. It's only a matter of time before my parents learn about my involvement. I'm totally getting grounded, too!"
“They might never find out,” Jake reassured.
“We were on the news, Magnum. The fucking news!” Andre exclaimed. “You could read the boat’s name and see us standing around while that asshole threatened us.”
“But you couldn’t really see us that well. The shot was from pretty far away,” Jake argued.
“It said Rim-Rod plan as day. And unlike you, I kinda stick out in that video. Luke ain’t got another black best friend,” Andre proclaimed.
“I think he has a point,” Phinn muttered, glancing around as he saw a car drive by slowly on the street. It wasn’t the Trans Am, so he didn’t pay it much attention.
“Did Trina get in trouble?” Andre asked.
“Uh, we haven’t really talked since yesterday,” Jake replied, running his hand through his hair sheepishly.
“Oh, she probably locked up in her parents’ basement,” Andre predicted.
“No, it’s not like she’s not answering my messages. I just haven’t sent anything yet. What? It’s damn awkward what happened. How am I supposed to ease into the conversation? Hey, it was fun railing your new roommate before banging the shit out of Michelle for everyone in the flotilla to see. Wanna do it again soon?” Jake explained, throwing up his hands in defeat.
“Shit, that Indigo is a freak. I can’t believe she let me…hell, she basically ordered me and Luke to double-team her,” Andre chuckled, still in disbelief.
“You did what…nevermind. I don’t need to know right now or ever,” Phinn said, shaking his head. “Okay, I’m going inside. Try staying out of sight, okay?”
Leaving the two football players standing in the parking lot while they traded opinions about yesterday's sea debauchery, Phinn entered the library. Unlike their Friday morning visit, the Dillingday bustled with activity around noon on Monday. The junior sleuth couldn’t recall seeing the central library branch this busy on a summer day.
Also, Phinn wasn’t met by a grinning redhead at the main desk. It wasn’t a vivacious thirty-year-old assistant head librarian who looked up at the new arrival, but a thirty-year veteran of the Dillingday. In her late fifties, Gertrude Sanger frowned upon seeing the regular visitor.
“So you’re the one I should thank for this chaos,” the head librarian greeted.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Sanger, whatever do you mean?” Phinn replied with his most innocent smile while scanning for Zelda.
“Let’s see. We had the special collection room broken into on Friday. We’ve had to call in extra staff on Saturday, and today is shaping up as a repeat.”
“We aren’t to blame. If you want to point a finger at anyone, it should go toward Thornbeard, Oswald Cozart, and that skeleton. They started this business,” Phinn defended himself and Jake.
“What are you looking for, Phineas? Perhaps if you learn it, we can revert to usual visitor numbers in a timely fashion,” Gertrude said with an annoyed expression.
“Shouldn’t you be thrilled about all your new guests?”
“The Dillingday is a library, not a tourist attraction,” the head librarian stated stiffly.
“Not with that welcoming attitude,” Phinn muttered before leaning forward to talk without anyone overhearing. “Have you heard of a Clara Livingston? She may have been engaged to Jason Tarr roughly a hundred and forty years ago or so.”
“I’ve never heard of the name.”
“What about somebody with the initials EJ, who may have been partners with Jason Tarr?”
“Really, Phineas? A pair of initials from the 19th century? You’re rather flying blind today, aren’t you?” Ms. Sanger challenged.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re grasping at straws with these clues. Wait, how about any Livingston? Have you ever heard of the family around here? I can’t recall the name in town lately,” Phinn admitted.
“Hmm, it’s possible the surname does sound familiar. They may have been an older family that moved away or tapered off over the decades,” Gertrude postulated. “If so, the most likely location to find–”
“No need. I know. In the old copies of the Dispatch,” Phinn stated, cutting off the librarian.
“Yes, or in Cookson’s history of Edgewater. It only covers up to the Civil War but details many of the more prominent town families,” the head librarian suggested.
“Oh, I never considered that. Thanks, Ms. Sanger. Now, if I can just access the–”
“Just head downstairs. Ms. Imhoff is already taking care of another visitor downstairs,” Gertrude said lazily.
Ignoring the dismissal, Phinn started toward the stairway in the library’s rear. However, he suddenly ducked behind the old card catalog cabinet that now sat as a display piece. Grabbing the first book he saw, Phinn hurriedly sat in an armchair while raising the open book to cover his face. Peering over the top, the junior sleuth watched as two teenagers walked past.
Donna Dalby and Radley Radford.
“Watch it. The Factfinders are in EW.” Phinn wrote Jake.
“Dammit!” He replied.
“DD and RR at Library. No sign of CC and SS yet.” Phinn wrote back after searching the library from his location. “Might be by you.”
“Got it.”
Putting his phone away, Phinn crept as stealthily toward the rear hallways as he could without appearing weird. He slowly descended the stairs while peering ahead. Donna and Radley were the B-Team of The Factfinders. They’d never drive four hours plus from Falconbridge without Cody Conway and Sophia Swann. Another thought lit up in Phinn’s brain.
“Do not engage with SS, no matter what.” He warned Jake about their rival’s most attractive member.
“Thanks. Now Andre wants pics of SS.” Jake wrote back.
So what? Just show him some. They’ll probably shut Andre up for a while, Phineas thought. Andre’s hopes will vanish once he learns how boring The Factfinders are.
Unlike The Sassy Girls, who lived up to their name and were teen detectives to be respected, The Factfinders' wholesomeness drove Phinn, Dusty, and Jake crazy. Phinn found Cody Conway, their leader, particularly annoying. His good-charmed earnestness couldn't be authentic, but it was.
Slinking down the hallway, Phinn listened outside the door to the special collections before moving on to Microfiche Land. Popping his head through the doorway, he hastily searched for the other half of the rival mystery-solvers. Not seeing anyone else, the teen slowly crept into the room.
“I’m sorry, my dearest Zelda. Our illicit May-December romance can never work. Not when you cheat on me with others. How could you shatter my heart in such a cruel way?”
“Ahh!” the ginger-haired librarian shrieked, hopping into the air. Turning around, she glared at the source of her scare.
“For fuck’s sake! Don’t sneak up on me like that, you little shit!” Zelda bellowed.
“Don’t look at me. Gertie wouldn’t tell me anything unless I scared you. I think she’s hearing footsteps for the head librarian position and wanted you removed from the picture,” Phineas lied.
“Gertie adores me,” Zelda shot back.
“What did the Guardians of Goodness want?” Phinn asked, plopping down in a chair before one of the microfilm readers.
“I thought they looked familiar! Wait, is that really their name?” Zelda double-checked.
“Nah, the goodie-goodies go by The Factfinders,” the rival teen detective corrected. “How many are here? Are there four?”
“I’ve only talked to those two. I knew I’d seen them around before, but not much,” the librarian recalled.
“Yeah, they meddled–sorry–they assisted in a couple of cases last summer,” Phinn recounted, rolling his eyes. “Donna Dalby, the girl you met, has family in Edgewater, so she comes out here occasionally. What are they up to?”
"They repeated your steps from Friday."
"You didn't tell them what I did, did you?"
“I have a professional responsibility to assist those seeking knowledge, including informing them of every detail I know,” Zelda stated sincerely before scoffing. “Of course not! I only gave them basic help. You’re my boys!”
“Right. And it has nothing to do with your promised reward,” Phinn inquired sarcastically.
“Honey, I could tilt the scales if I wanted to guarantee I’d get my expensive lingerie reward,” the redhead said cheekily.
“Who said anything about expensive? Doesn’t Penny Value have cheap lingerie? Like that fast fashion kind?” the high school student deadpanned.
“Scales can be balanced or tipped in the opposite direction, buster,” Zelda shot back. “Now, are you still ahead of the competition? I assume you need something from dear ole me.”
“Nah, Gertie already pointed me down here. But you could do your job and get what I need from the Dispatch,” Phinn commanded with a flick of the wrist. After Zelda threatened to bodily harm him, the teen listed the reasons why he’d returned.
"I can't say I ever heard of Clara Livingston. A couple of initials aren't much to go on. So, do you plan to focus on the society pages?" Zelda listened while Phinn explained about the Cookson book. "You could also try the city directories if you're merely trying to track down any Livingstons in Edgewater during this period."
The following two hours dragged on for Phineas. Not only did his eyes hurt, but he also felt mentally exhausted from scrolling through roll after roll of microfilm. To make matters worse, he found absolutely nothing. Pulling his eyeglasses off, Phinn wiped his face right when Zelda returned.
“That bad, huh?”
“Worthless. Maybe I should check the Cookson book.”
“You can’t. Both our copies are in use right now,” Zelda revealed. “So it’s a splendid time for your guest.”
“Guest? Oh, no. I want nothing to do with those prudes,” Phinn declared, having visions of dealing with those damn Factfinders.
“I don’t think Johanna Zay is a prude. If anything, she seems like fun.”
“Johanna’s even worse. Don’t tell her I’m here. She wants an interview. Send the busybody away,” Phinn ordered, making a shooing gesture.
“Pot calling the kettle black much, Phineas?” the chestnut-haired influencer challenged, entering the room. “Or did you just offer me membership in your agency as your desperately needed social media manager?”
“Whoops. Oh, no, she was standing right outside with me. How on Earth did I forget to mention that?” Zelda remarked farcically.
“Go away. I’m busy,” Phinn retorted at Johanna while glaring toward Zelda. Suddenly, his brain registered the oddity here. “Wait, how did you even know I was here? Zelda?”
“Don’t look at me, kid. She knew you were here,” Zelda denied. Then, her voice dropped into a stage whisper. “I gotta say, Phinny. This new girlfriend keeps you on a tight leash.”
“Ewww, no!” Phineas and Johanna exclaimed.
“You aren’t dating? But you make such a cute couple,” Zelda cooed.
The librarian threw up her hands and left the room after Phinn hurled a few choice words in her direction.
“I have powers you don’t comprehend, Farris. I ask, and my subscribers answer,” Johanna proclaimed, earning an approving chuckle from the passing librarian.
“You have your cult tracking me?” Phinn challenged.
“Not a cult. Fans who appreciate a star in the making,” the wannabe influencer responded.
“So says the cult leader.”
“Whatever. Honestly, your whereabouts are easy to find online. Whoa, don’t look at me that way. Somebody else announced you were here,” Johanna revealed.
“Fucking great.”
“Where’s Jakey?” Johanna inquired, glancing around.
“Not here.”
“Lying isn’t nice, Brain. Or do you prefer a new nickname?”
“I’m not lying. We split up to cover more ground. Jake’s on a stakeout,” Phinn revealed, immediately wincing over letting her know that.
“But his car…”
“So that’s why people know I’m here,” Phinn ascertained, holding up a finger. “Okay, I’m here and Jake isn’t. You may now leave.”
“You owe me an interview. Fine. Then, I’ll just tag along with you to the big meeting,” Johanna declared.
A confused expression washed over Phinn’s face. Of course, Johanna didn’t believe him, so she glared until her classmate admitted the truth. The silence led the eavesdropping Zelda to pop her head back into the room.
“Right, forgot to let you know about the emergency city council meeting this evening. It’s about the treasure hunt chaos.”
“I’m not going to that.”
“Mayor Broome is catching a lot of heat. So he demanded Oswald Cozart attend to answer questions,” Johanna revealed.
“Cozart, huh?” Phinn repeated, knowing he had some of his own questions he’d like answers to.
“Uh, now would be a good time to check out those city directories on the second floor, Phinn. This room might get crowded soon,” Zelda revealed, shaking her phone slightly. She’d gotten a message from an aide.
Phinn took the hint and agreed. Unfortunately for him, Johanna tagged along as he climbed up the two floors. She continued to follow as he picked up a stack of old city directories and placed them on a table.
“Stop recording me,” he ordered.
“But I need something showing you in action. Frankly, you’re kinda boring compared to Jake,” Johanna said, reviewing his entertainment level.
“You don’t want to see when it stops being boring,” Phinn warned. Then, he saw a pair of teens sitting on the other side of the oval opening to the first floor and sighed.
“Who’s that?” the chestnut-haired girl asked, looking across at Donna and Radley.
“Competition,” Phinn replied, saying nothing more as he opened the first directory.
“What? Like another group of detectives?” Johanna queried, her head swiveling around. “Maybe I should interview them.”
Phineas shrugged before Johanna vanished.
After nearly twenty city directories, the social media personality returned.
“They were very nice, unlike you,” Johanna remarked before dropping the next part as Phinn predicted. “Kinda bland.”
Halfway in the process of rolling his eyes and dropping a comeback, Phinn halted. Down on the first floor, he’d noticed a man he’d never met but had heard plenty about over the last few days. The large scar on his face was a dead giveaway, and he appeared to be searching for someone. This could be a problem.
“Guess what? I’ll be much nicer if you give me a ride to city hall.”
“Why?” Johanna questioned.
“You can even sit with me and cover my reactions,” Phinn added, trying to decide what to do if Scarface knew his identity.
“Is this a trick?”
“Nope. We can even head out early. I’ll answer some of your questions. Just go get your car and pull it up directly in front of the door.”
“I’m not your chauffeur, Phineas.”
“Do it, and Jake might end up joining us,” Phinn lied. It didn’t surprise him one bit when Johanna agreed and got up.
BUZZ BUZZ
Grabbing his phone, Phinn expected the message to be from his partner. Instead, Bert Durkee from the medical examiner’s office finally had a copy of the report on the skeleton. Shooting off a quick message that he’d meet him in the parking lot shortly, Phinn glanced back down at the first floor.
Shit! Where did he go?
Jumping up, Phinn grabbed his bag and turned…right into a man with stringy hair. When Stringy Hair’s face flashed recognition, Phinn went into fight-and-flee mode. Turning again, he picked up one of the heavy city directories and performed a full spin that slammed the book across the side of Stringy Hair’s face.
Throwing his bag strap over his shoulder, Phinn picked up two more books and flung them at the dazed man. Moving away, he grabbed a couple more off the shelves and threw them to buy more distance.
“Phineas!” Gertrude Sanger screeched from the first floor.
“Shit,” Phinn hissed as the whole library seemingly looked in his direction.
Scrambling around shelves and furniture, Phinn raced across the balcony-like level toward the rear stairs. Unfortunately, Stringy Hair appeared at the railing and yelled down to his partner. Looking over while swerving around a confused visitor, Phinn skidded to a halt. Scarface already stood close enough to the back of the library that the teen didn’t have a chance. Phinn would be trapped in the stairway before he reached the first floor.
With his brain firing, Phinn deked enough toward the rear that Scarface kept moving on the first floor. With the fakeout, the teen detective kept running until he raced around the oval and onto the other side of the second floor. Took late, Stringy Hair noticed and shouted the change to his partner.
“Phineas Farris, you stop running right this instant!” Ms. Sanger ordered.
Rushing around the people and furniture, Phinn began to see his possible escape working. Stringy Hair had overcommitted and couldn’t turn around down the other side. He’d have to hope Scarface heard his shout and didn’t climb the back stairs. Approaching the two astonished Factfinders, Phinn shot out a hand in a salute.
“Hey, Donna. Suck it, Radley!”
“I see him!”
Phinn slowed down enough to check on the voice. Indeed, Scarface had heard his partner’s shout, and he’d started running toward the front of the library on the ground floor. However, Phinn’s quick check backfired as he ran into another patron, bounced off the man, and fell into a shelf.
“Phineas, you will be banned!” the head librarian warned.
With books flying, Phinn scrambled to his feet and started to move again. Unfortunately, the fall allowed Stringy Hair to gain on the fleeing teen. While Phinn could likely outrace him, Scarface looked like a problem again.
Reaching the front stairs, the junior sleuth leaped down several at a time. While turning on the U-shaped staircase, Phinn suddenly couldn’t spot Scarface. Hitting the ground floor, he glanced at where he’d last seen the surly-looking man.
“I am so sorry. Please forgive my clumsiness. Whoops, sorry again,” Zelda apologized after accidentally tripping Scarface a second time.
With the helpful assistant head librarian providing the badly needed obstacle, Phinn turned and burst through the front door. The timing worked nearly perfectly as Johanna placed her car in park outside the front door. Phinn jumped into the passenger seat.
“Go, go, go!” he ordered.
Only Johanna didn’t follow his command.
“Hold your horses. That’s no way to show–Oh!” Johanna gasped as Scarface exploded through the library’s double doors.
Phinn managed to lock the door in time as Scarface yanked at the handle.
“Go! Now!”
Instead, Johanna started to reach down toward the center console. Phinn couldn’t believe the reason and slapped her hand away.
“Fucking go!” he screamed.
The car shot forward, leaving Scarface and the exiting Stringy Hair in their dust. Looking back, Phinn couldn’t help but laugh as the two men were nearly run over by a Trans Am whipping out of a parking spot.
“Ugh! I didn’t get a picture, Farris!” Johanna complained.
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