Framed & Dangerous (9780545443128) by Kim Harrington Page A

boyfriend-girlfriend with him and ignore me even more.”
    And then the fire happened the next morning. And Zane had been framed.
    I felt like a giant weight was being lowered onto my chest. Darcy had a bad temper, I knew that. And she’d gotten in trouble quite a bit at school. But she would never have done something like this.
    Would she?

Later that day, I followed Darcy through the door into the Danville Public Library. My thoughts were churning. I had no evidence that Darcy had anything to do with the fire. But Maya’s words kept ringing in my head.
    It’s a possibility.
    It’s a possibility.
    It’s a possibility.
    I shook my head roughly.
    â€œAre you okay?” Darcy said, eyeing me strangely.
    â€œYeah. Just a little … headache,” I lied.
    She gave me a worried look. “Do you want to go home? We could do this tomorrow afternoon.”
    Here she was, being all concerned and nice, eventhough we hadn’t officially made up. And meanwhile I was suspecting her of arson.
    I waved my hand. “I’m fine. Let’s start the research.”
    â€œOookay,” Darcy said, and started walking toward the reference desk.
    I steered my thoughts away from the fire and toward the Prom Killer.
    The reference librarian was typing on the computer. Her hair was a pretty shade of red and held up in a tortoiseshell clip. A pair of glasses perched so low on her nose, I wondered how they stayed there without falling off.
    Darcy coughed into her hand.
    â€œOh!” The librarian gazed up from the computer and looked at us over the rim of her glasses. “I didn’t even see you two there. How can I help you?”
    Darcy said, “Our school librarian said that you have old copies of the Danville Reporter here. On microfilm?”
    The librarian raised her eyebrows in surprise. “We don’t get too many people your age coming in here to use the microfilm.” She got up and walked around the desk. “Was there any specific time period you were looking for?”
    I stood with my hands clasped, letting Darcy do all the talking. This was her thing. I was sure she’d already figured out what papers she needed to look in.
    â€œSpring 1948,” Darcy answered quickly.
    The librarian nodded. “Okay. You girls get settled downstairs, and I’ll bring you the rolls.”
    Darcy and I looked at each other. Rolls? Downstairs?
    At our confused expressions, the librarian said, “I take it you’ve never used microfilm before.”
    â€œNo,” I said, almost apologetically.
    She pushed her glasses up on her nose and smiled. “It’s no problem. I’ll show you how it works. The machine is in the basement.”
    I’d never been in the library’s basement. In fact, I hadn’t even known there was one. But we headed in the direction the librarian had pointed and, sure enough, there was a darkened stairway in the back corner of the library.
    â€œLooks creepy,” Darcy said.
    I’d been thinking the same thing, but shook it off. I reached out and flicked a switch on the wall. The stairwell lit up with a dim yellow glow.
    â€œSee?” I said. “It’s fine.”
    Darcy nudged me with her shoulder. “You first, then, Bravey McBravepants.”
    I grabbed the wooden railing tightly as I descended the creaky stairs. Darcy kept close behind. The basement air was musty.
    As I stepped off the bottom step, I squinted through the dim light at the shadows. It was eerily quiet. Large filing cabinets lined one wall. Beneath a dangling lightbulb stood a table, two chairs, and a big gray machine.
    â€œThat must be the microfilm machine,” I said, pointing.
    â€œPeople must hardly ever use this,” Darcy said, wiping a layer of dust off the top.
    â€œHere you go!”
    I jumped as the librarian swiftly entered the room. She stretched out her hand toward us. It contained something that looked like miniature