Liar & Spy Read Free Page B

around to stare at me. “No. He does not wear a baseball cap with a fish on it.”
    “Oh. I thought maybe I saw him. My dad talked to a guywith two big suitcases in the elevator this morning. But he was wearing a fish hat. It was yellow.”
    Safer looks annoyed. “That couldn’t have been him. If Mr. X wore a baseball cap, it would be black.”
    “Oh, right.”
    “And another thing is that Mr. X doesn’t talk.”
    “He doesn’t talk?”
    “He doesn’t talk.”
    “Wait—you mean, never ?”
    Safer leans toward me and shakes his head slowly back and forth. He’s giving me the willies, and I’m not sure I want to be here anymore. But I’m not sure I want to leave, either.
    Safer begins to pace. The room is so small that he’s basically just walking around the table in a circle. Every time he gets to where I’m standing, he does an about-face and walks in the other direction.
    “If we’re going to work together, you have to learn to focus—try to notice things.”
    “What things?”
    “It doesn’t matter what things. Anything. Buttons. Garbage cans. Stay in the moment. I get the feeling your mind wanders.”
    I don’t say anything. It does.
    “You’re a very important part of this case, you know.”
    “I am?”
    “You are.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you live in the apartment right below him.”
    “Below who?”
    “Below Mr. X .”
    “I do? But I haven’t even told you what apartment I live in.”
    He crosses his arms and looks at me. “I can tell you’re smart, you know. Even though you ask all those questions you know the answers to.”
    Sure, I’m smart. And sometimes I do ask questions I know the answers to—Mom calls it stalling. But honestly, it’s just hard to follow Safer’s conversation.
    “No one can know about this, of course. Not yet.”
    “About what?”
    “Mr. X. Us. The Spy Club.”
    “Oh. What about Candy?”
    “Candy won’t tell. You didn’t say anything, did you? To your dad?”
    “No—well, he knows about the Spy Club sign—he was actually the one who asked what time the meeting was.”
    Safer blows out his cheeks in exasperation and throws his arms toward the ceiling. “Great! Now he knows something is up!”
    “You’re the one who put the sign up! What was I supposed to do? Spend twenty minutes throwing out the garbage? He’d come down here looking for me.”
    “It’s okay,” Safer says. “Calm down.”
    “I’m calm.” I don’t point out that he’s the one who started throwing his arms around.
    “Just tell him that no one showed.”
    “What?”
    “Tell him you came down and waited, but no one showed up. You can do that, can’t you?”
    “I guess, but—”
    “Good.”
    “Can I ask you a question? Why did you take those dogs down here? This is where those stairs lead, from the lobby, right? To the basement?”
    “It’s a job. I’m a dog walker.”
    “You walk them in the basement?”
    “In the courtyard—there’s a door.”
    “Why don’t you take them outside?”
    He waves a hand at me. “I had some trouble. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
    “Oh.” I nod toward the elevator. “So, you heading upstairs?”
    “Go ahead,” Safer says. “I never use the elevator. Too easy to be taken by surprise.”
    “Seriously?”
    “And there’s only one exit.”
    “Okay, well, I’ll see you, I guess.”
    He nods. “At the next meeting.”
    “When’s that?”
    Safer cups one hand under my elbow and steers me to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
    “Should I give you my phone number or something?”
    He taps his head. “Not necessary.”

Fortunes
    Dad is all smiles when I open the apartment door. “How’d it go?”
    “No one showed,” I say.
    The smile drops off his face. “Oh. I’m sorry, bud.”
    “I don’t mind,” I tell him.
    “You were waiting all this time?”
    “Yeah—it was fine, though.”
    “You sure you aren’t disappointed?”
    Why do parents ask questions like that?
    “Seriously, Dad. I’m one