Alibi High

“Right.”

“And desperate people do desperate things.”

Charlotte nodded, the tail of her braid bobbing on her shoulder. “Right.”

I glanced at the door to make sure it was still shut tight, then looked back to Charlotte. “I talked to a friend last night,” I said, referring to my conversation with Johnny. “He's a computer person, has his own consulting business. We talked a little about why someone might steal the computers and what they'd do with them.”

She sat up a little straighter and shifted toward me. “Okay.”

“And he was talking about how they might break them down and sell their drives and parts and whatever,” I explained. “That they could do that on the Internet and that there's like a black market or something for stolen computer parts.”

“Sure. Like anything that gets stolen, I'd imagine.”

I nodded. “But I kept thinking about why someone would do it, you know? Why would they pick a school and why would they take computers that weren't necessarily brand new?”

She considered this. “Maybe a computer lab would make sense because thieves would know there would be a bunch of computers. More bang for your buck, so to speak.”

Maybe my idea wasn't so crazy after all.

I forged ahead. “So don't you think they would've been familiar with this school? To know what they were coming in to get?”

She thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I would think so. But that doesn't necessarily answer the why.”

“Well, what if someone needed money fast,” I said, glancing again to the door. “And they had the know-how of where to sell the computer parts.”

She pursed her lips and said nothing.

“That would be a source of quick cash,” I said. And then I added, “If someone needed it badly...”

Her eyes widened, finally getting where I was headed. “Oh. Oh!”

“And then if you could get the place you stole from to order new computers from you,” I said, my voice barely audible. “It would be like stealing twice.”

“Desperate people,” she whispered back.

“And maybe that's why she's so adamant about ordering the new ones through her husband,” I said.

Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “Wow. That's a very real possibility, isn't it?”

I smiled. I definitely was not crazy.

“But you're also assuming a lot.”

My confidence deflated a little. “I know. I know . ,” I acknowledged. “ I'm making leaps. ” She smiled and I continued. “ My husband just rolls his eyes at me when I do it. Says I watch too much TV, except I never watch TV. He thinks I should write mysteries because I turn everything into a conspiracy or a mystery.”

She laughed and shook her head Charlotte chuckled . “Well, there is logic in what you're saying. It's just hard to see...” She glanced at the door and lowered her voice Her gaze shifted toward the door, then back to me . “It's just hard to see Harriet as a thief. She's a pain, but I've never thought of her as a criminal. S he can be nice when she wants to and s he's done a lot of good things for the school.”

At which point, g G uilt immediately crashed down on me for allowing my overactive imagination to turn turning a woman who was having a tough time into a thief. Jake was right about me. My imagination I was making leaps that weren't necessarily there , just like I always did . Jake was right. Maybe I needed did need to start writing madcap novels that involved crazy crimes.

“On the other hand,” Charlotte said, leaning back in her chair. She brought her pen to her lips and thought. “The president of the PTA probably does have a keycard to the school. .. ”

Or maybe I wasn't totally insane.

TWENTY ONE

Charlotte excused herself for a conference with a teacher and I was trying to figure out where to start my pleas next round of begging for the talent show when there was a knock on the office door. I looked up to see Mrs. Bingledorf smiling back at me.

“Good morning,” she said , wearing a bright red business suit and matching red shoes. . She took a look around the office, almost like she'd never seen it before. “This working arrangement is working out for you alright, I hope?”

“ Oh sure Yes ,” I said. And then, because she seemed to want more, I added, “Charlotte is very nice.”

“Isn't she, though?” she said, still looking around the room. “Well, good, I'm glad to hear this is suitable.” She settled her gaze on me. “So , tell me. Where do we stand?”

I flipped open the notebook nervously, suddenly feeling under the gun. “Um, well, I'm still trying to get things started. People are reluctant to be the first to sign up.”

She grabbed the chair from Charlotte's desk and rolled it around so she could sit down in it, facing me. She wore a red suit with matching red shoes and the jacket strained against her shoulders and stomach. She crossed her legs one way, then uncrossed them and recrossed them the opposite way.

“ But I'm hopeful,” I said.

She folded her hands and set them on her lap, then let them fall to her sides, then refolded them again.

“Yes, yes, I'm sure they are reluctant ,” she finally said, her hands still twitchy in her lap. “But I'm sure you can persuade them.”

“I hope so. ” I paused. “ Might be helpful if you put an email to the staff, letting them know I'll be coming around to talk to them, maybe encourage them to participate.”

“I'll do that today,” she said, nodding emphatically. “I'll do that today.”

“ That would be great. Thank you.”

“ What else can I do?” “What else can I do?”

I shook my head. “Nothing that I can think of at this time . At least not right now .”

“So how close are we then to being ready?” she asked brightly , her shoulders rolling forward a little, then settling back. .

“Uh, well, not really close at all yet,” I said, thinking she'd already understood that.

“How about after today?” she said , her hands moving nervously in her lap . Her hands fidgeted in her lap . “Where do you think we'll stand then?”

“Well, it's really hard to say. .. ”

Bingledorf's smile disappeared, replaced by a small frown. “We really need that money, Daisy. We really need it. I'm almost tempted to move the show up a week.”

“No,” I said, horrified by that thought. . “Don't do that. We absolutely can't be ready by then.”

She winced Her frown deepened . “But we need that money, Daisy.”

I knew she needed the money. She kept saying that. But I still wasn't sure this show would even deliver what she was hoping for. I had this horrible idea enormous fear that we'd get to the night of the show and we'd take in all of a couple hundred dollars.

“Have you talked to your insurance company yet?” I asked. Her expression changed. “Because I was talking with my husband last night — ”

“Yes, I've spoken with them,” she snapped.

It was the first time in three days that I'd seen her overly positive demeanor shaken and it startled me.

She pursed her red lips, then stood and closed the door to the office.

She sat back down and stared at me .

“I'm sorry, Daisy . .” She expelled a breath. “ That was uncalled for and I apologize for speaking that way to you.”

“It's alright,” I said, a little on guard now.