Dadâs laptop and typed the number into the search bar. Two minutes later I was headed out the door .
In my part of the city, the older houses are on the other side of Battersby Street, where Spoke and Rim is located. The fancy houses are on the ridge above the river, where the man who thought heâd found my bike lives. The address Iâd found online was in a different area. Iâd never been to it before. The houses werenât as fancy as the ones above the river, but they were big. Who says crime doesnât payâat least, in Emilyâs case.
The house was white, with stonework along the front. My plan wasnât complicated. I was going to knock on the door and ask Emily what sheâd meant when she said the reward posters might mess things up.
But now that I was standing in front of her house, I started to rethink things. I didnât like Emily Grimshaw. I definitely didnât trust her. And what if her mom answered the door? Her mom might slam the door in my face, just like last time.
I decided to look around before I started asking questions. I walked to the alley. The garages faced the street, so there wasnât much to see except a strip of gravel and two long, high rows of fence. The third fence on the left belonged to the white house.
Have you ever noticed that if you walk past a tall wooden fence at just the right speed, the narrow openings between the boards seem to join together? Itâs kind of like flipping through a book with the same image over and over. Your eyes can only see a tiny bit on each page, but your brain puts it all together into a complete picture.
The first time I walked past the fence, I had the pacing wrong. The picture in my brain was just a lot of green grass and a white house with a bit of someoneâs arm.
I walked back down the alley at a quicker pace. Quicker was better. There were two kids in the backyard. I couldnât quite tell if one of them was Emily.
As I headed up the alley a third time, a head popped up over the fence.
âHi, Levi. We thought that was you.â
It was perfect sister number oneâJulia. What was she doing at Emilyâs house? Before I could ask, a second head appeared.
âAre you looking for us?â
It was perfect sister number twoâMay. Weird.
âIâmâ¦â I began to say.
But May had disappeared. Julia took over.
âSheâs gone to open the back gate,â she said. âCome on in. Weâre just hanging out in the backyard.â
Click . The gate opened, right on cue.
I walked into the backyard. I looked around for Emily. She wasnât there. It was just May and Julia. Two matching bikes leaned against the fence. Two blankets were laid out on the grass. Two glasses of lemonade stood on two trays beside them. Had I made some kind of mistake?
âWho exactly lives here?â I asked.
âI do,â said May.
âI live across the alley,â added Julia.
Cornered on home turf with the perfect sisters. Oh no!
âAre you the ones who called me last week?â I asked. âButâ¦why?â
They looked at each other as if sharing some kind of secret.
âWere you really, really curious?â asked Julia. âYou would have had to go to a lot of trouble to track us down and get this address and everything.â
âNot that much trouble,â I said.
Another secretive look passed between them.
âDonât worry. Sometimes we go online to figure out stuff like that too,â said May.
âItâs not illegal or anything,â said Julia.
âItâs how we found out where Luis Marin lives,â said May.
Luis was two years older than us, and all the girls in my grade thought he was cute. What did that have to do with anything?
âI donât get it,â I said. âDid you call me or didnât you?â
May sighed. Clearly, I was missing something. Thankfully, Julia began to explain.
âNeither of us
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