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And she’s kinda crazy, too, which makes her fun.

I shelved the urge to spout one-liners. Put on my game face. Got ready to rumble.

It was time to make someone regret messing with our turf.

Chapter 4

Unclenching my fists, I tried to quell my anger.

Hi was looking at me strangely. Was that eagerness on his face?

“Tory?” Shelton was nervously eyeing the empty hallway. “What’s our play?”

“We search this lab,” I replied. “Top to bottom. Let’s divide the room into sections and each take one.”

“What are we looking for?” Ben asked.

“Trace evidence. Hairs, fibers, paint chips, anything that looks out of place. Watch for strange marks, too. Scratches or scrapes. If we can determine how the robbers operated, we’ll know more of what to look for.”

“Careful what you touch,” Shelton warned. “The police haven’t been here yet. We don’t want to implicate ourselves.”

“Good thinking.” I scanned the open cabinets, spotted a package of latex gloves. Stepping carefully, I walked over and snagged the box. “Everyone grab a pair.”

Properly gloved, we each moved to our assigned sector.

Needle in a haystack.

I shoved the thought aside. All forensics was a needle hunt.

My thoughts flew to Aunt Tempe. How impressed she’d be if we helped crack the case. That weekend, my hero worship was full-blown.

Being honest with myself, wowing Tempe was the reason I wanted to investigate.

Then pay attention. A wandering mind misses clues.

I combed my zone systematically, front to back.

I’d chosen the far-left quadrant, which ran along the wall. Bringing my face close, I inspected the countertop, nose inches from the gleaming steel. Then I moved to the first of two workstations in my area. Shattered glass covered its surface. A scuffed area marked the former position of an electron microscope. The second station had once held a computer terminal. Now only stripped wires remained.

Minutes ticked by. Five. Ten. Twenty.

I didn’t need Shelton’s grumbles to know we were running out of time.

“Nothing,” Ben called from the other side of the room.

“Same,” Shelton echoed.

Hi was back where he’d started, a frown crimping his features. “I got squadoosh. Anyone know a good psychic?”

I felt discouraged. Smothered it. “We do it again.”

The boys watched me, saying nothing.

“We’ve only done one pass!” I gestured to the chaos covering the floor. “You’re sure you didn’t miss anything, in all that?”

Shelton tugged his ear. “The cops are on the way, Tor.”

“And your dad,” Ben added. “I’m surprised no one’s here yet.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste time chatting.” I made shooing gestures with my hands. “Get to work.”

A few looks, but the boys did as I asked. I knew they would. In moments we were all on hands and knees, combing the floor for anything useful.

I was starting to despair, when I spotted something.

There. By the base of the wall.

A tiny brown sliver.

I dropped to my belly and shimmied under the counter.

“Tory?” Hi had completed his second sweep. “Find a cookie?”

“I think… there’s something…” Moving cautiously, I plucked the tiny splinter between my thumb and index finger, then gingerly scootched backward and stood.

“Whadayagot?” Shelton was shirt-wiping his glasses. “Because my section is Zero Town, population nothing. Unless you like broken beakers.”

I peered intently at my find. “It’s wood. A chip.”

“The case breaker!” Ben said sarcastically. “Call the feds!”

My head shook in annoyance. “It doesn’t match anything, though. At least, nothing that I’ve seen over here.” My eyes scoured the rest of Lab Three for anything that might explain the tiny wedge.

The boys looked, too. Spotted nothing likely.

“The only wooden items are the cabinets,” I said.

“And several were crowbarred. Look.” Ben lifted a cabinet door that had been ripped from its hinges.

“But the cabinet wood is totally different.” I held the sliver close to one. “These doors are made of processed boards. Some kind of composite material, held together by adhesive.”

“They’re also lighter in color,” Hi added. “And layered, to be more pliable. That chip came from something else.”

Hi turned to Ben. “Check the lab for anything else made of wood. And make sure the other cabinets are identical to this one.”

Ben’s hands found his pockets. “I don’t think so.”

“Got it.” Hi swiveled back to me. “I’ll check the lab for anything else made of wood and make sure the other cabinets are identical to this one.”

“Good plan,” Ben said.

“I’ll help,” Shelton said. “We should be hustling.”

The two boys hurried to make another sweep.

I rotated the splinter in the palm of my hand. Triangular shape. Two sides rougher than the third, which was darker, smooth, and worn.

Holding the fragment up to the light, I noticed the grain was barely detectable.

And something else.

“There’s goop on this.” I tilted my hand back and forth, watching the light play over the chip’s surface. “A coating. Or residue. Sticky.”

Impulsively, I held it under my nose. “It smells like… nuts.”

“Nuts?” Ben scoffed. “Sure you’re not just hungry?”

“Zip it.” I sniffed again. “Maybe… more like grass. Or tree sap. I know I’m not making sense.”

Hi and Shelton rejoined us.

“No other wood,” Hi confirmed. “That specimen appears to be a foreign particle.”

“Which doesn’t necessarily mean it’s related to the break-in,” Shelton countered. “It could’ve hitched a ride in here on someone’s shoe. For all we know, it’s been there for weeks.”

“It’s a place to start.” I dropped the chip into a plastic glove, tied off the opening, and slipped the makeshift specimen bag into my pocket.

Hi rubbed his hands together. “What next? Should we start some interrogations?”

“Let me think.” Unnecessarily waving for quiet.

The boys waited. They trusted my instincts, and my ability to discern patterns. Skills that had served us well before.

Except now you’ve got nothing.

Just a slice of wood that doesn’t match the local wood.

An idea took root.

I moved to the closest shattered cabinet. “This was hacked open, right?”

“More like pried.” Ben pointed to deep gouges where the door met its frame. “See how the wood split, right at the edge? Someone jammed an object into the gap, then wedged it open.”

The idea congealed into a theory.

“A tool.” My mind was fitting pieces even as I spoke. “The robber must’ve used an implement to crack them. Some sort of lever.”

Three blank looks.

I tapped my pocket. “This splinter isn’t from the doors. It’s from the tool.”

Ben’s brows formed a V. “The instrument had to be metal, Tory. These doors fractured under some pretty serious force. I don’t think something wooden could’ve done the job without leaving at lot more splinters. My guess is they used a crowbar. Pure steel.”

“Okay.” Thinking furiously. “Damn.”

Shelton spoke up. “What if the wedging part was metal but the handle was made of wood?”