Chopped! Page 5

  Mr. Smith and Sly agreed that this was a good idea. Robin put his right foot into Mr. Smith’s linked fingers and his left foot into Sly’s hands. Together, they lifted Robin so he had a good look into the shop.

  Crap. The window now had a curtain over it. There was nothing—

  “Hey! Hey! What are you doing there?”

  Mr. Smith and Sly whirled; Robin lost his balance and fell clumsily to the ground. Someone had seen him. Was it one of the Latino guys? If it was, they were toast.

  A moment later that someone came running up the alley. It wasn’t a Latino guy. It wasn’t a guy at all. It was Chantelle Price. She had on sneakers, shorts, and a red T-shirt. She was carrying her little reporter notebook.

  Oh no. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

  “Robin Paige! Sly Thomas! And you!” She pointed at Mr. Smith. “I know you. You’re the guy who gave the money for our school library. What are you doing here?” She faced Sly. “Sly Thomas, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to break into this shop!”

  Shy shook his head like it was attached to his neck by a loose spring. “No way, no how! We wouldn’t do that! We were just … checkin’ things out.”

  “That’s right,” Robin jumped in. “I saw that this business just opened, and it looked suspicious, so I wanted to maybe call the police.”

  “Like your friend Kaykay called the police on Tyrone and Dodo?” Chantelle smiled cockily.

  “Kaykay didn’t do anything,” Mr. Smith told the girl. “I did. I was the one who went to the principal.”

  Chantelle made a face. “Tell me something I don’t already know. What are you doing here, Sly?”

  There was silence. Robin knew they were screwed.

  “Nothing? No one has anything to say?”

  More silence.

  “Well then,” Chantelle declared, “I have a proposition for you. Here it is. I think you’re not helping the police. I think you’re looking to see if there’s money in there you can give away. I think you got the money to save the Center, and the money to save our library, and now you’re looking for money for something else. You only take it from bad people, and you give it to good people.” She gazed at Sly again. “Like your daddy and his church. My cousin heard about your church mission. Maybe you’re looking for money for that.”

  “What’s your proposition?” Robin asked. He tried to sound strong and confident.

  “I’m going to write about all this in my column,” Chantelle told them. “Unless you let me join you.”

  What?

  Robin didn’t answer her directly. “Chantelle, you must be a good reporter if you figured out what we’ve been doing.”

  Chantelle nodded. “It wasn’t hard. I just paid attention. Robin, for the last few days, you’ve been watching this place. Everyone at the Center says you and Sly and Mr. Smith are like this. Kaykay too.” She held four fingers together. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Right now I think it’s blazing.”

  “Then you don’t want to get burned,” Robin told her. “Smart thing for you to do is go on home and forget you were ever here. This is dangerous stuff.”

  Chantelle stood up to her full five foot eight. “Are you sayin’ I can’t handle myself?” She looked at Sly again. “I can handle myself just fine, Robin. Try me.”

  “Robin …” Mr. Smith pointed to his old-fashioned watch. Time was wasting. It was dangerous for them to be standing here yakking like this. No telling who might come along.

  Robin made a quick decision that he realized he might regret. Big time.

  “Okay, Chantelle,” he declared. “You’re in … if you promise to keep your mouth shut. No matter what!”

  Chantelle nodded. “Thank you. I won’t write about us, I won’t Tweet about us, I won’t speak about us. You can count on me.”

  Robin wasn’t sure if that was true or not. Only time would tell.

  “So we’re going in there to see what we can see,” Robin told her. “You, and me, and Sly. Mr. Smith, please give Chantelle your pepper spray.”

  Before he could, Chantelle displayed a small black container that was clipped to her keychain. “No need. I got my own. In this hood, a girl’s gotta be prepared.”

  Robin nodded. “Good. Mr. Smith? Do your thing.”

  Mr. Smith took out a few of his old locksmithing tools and went to the rear door. “This is a lifter pin. What we’ve got here is an ordinary deadbolt. Should be a snap.”

  He slipped the lifter under the deadbolt lock and moved it gently, explaining that he was working the pins on the lock. Once the pins were up, he turned the door handle. The door opened easily.

  “Close this behind us,” Robin told Mr. Smith. “Knock if there’s anything strange. Then run—well, walk fast. Come on, Sly. You too, Chantelle. We’re going in.”

  Mr. Smith opened the door. Robin flicked on his flashlight and let his friends inside. There was a faint click as Mr. Smith closed the door behind them.

  “Okay,” Robin said. “Let’s—”

  He never got the words out. A snarling creature flew at them out of the darkness.

  Robin had just enough time to swing his flashlight around. It was a German shepherd. A giant one. His mouth was open and his jaws dripped spittle as he leaped for Robin’s throat!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  In one motion, Robin pulled out his pepper spray and fired it at the German shepherd.

  Direct hit. The attack dog yelped and seemed to change direction in midair. He fell heavily to the concrete floor and ran off in the other direction, mewling and howling.

  “Follow that dog!” Robin ordered Sly and Chantelle. “Find some water and wash him off good. Especially his eyes. When you think you’ve done it enough, do it more. Be careful! Go on, do it!”

  Sly and Chantelle ran off to find the dog. Robin shined his flashlight around the interior, looking for a light switch. He found it on the far wall, next to a tiny recessed office. He flicked it; the room was instantly bathed in harsh overhead light.

  It took about two seconds of assessing for Robin to decide that Mr. Smith was absolutely right. There were stacks of car parts everywhere: tires, engines, bumpers, airbag consoles, windshields, doors, electronics, and more. Robin felt like he was in the middle of an auto parts store, except the parts were all stolen. The “business” was definitely a chop shop.

  He had no idea how much all this was worth. Probably a lot. The question was, was there any money in this place that they could “withdraw” and give anonymously to the church for the mission? Robin figured they’d make the “withdrawal” and then call in a tip to the police in the morning. The cops would pay a visit, the guys running the chop shop would be arrested, and that would be that.

  He went into the small office and started looking through drawers. Nothing. The drawers were empty. Same thing with the file cabinet.

  “Any luck?”

  Robin turned. It was Sly.

  “How’s the dog?” Robin asked.

  “Better,” Sly told him. “He’s in some little back room. Chantelle’s still washing out his eyes. You find anything?”

  Robin shook his head. “Nah. Not yet. Help me look.”

  For the next five minutes, while Chantelle stayed with the dog, the two boys searched the shop. They came up empty. Either they weren’t looking in the right place, or the crooks who ran the place didn’t keep their cash there.

  “You got anything?” Robin called to Sly, who was looking behind a rack of tools and blowtorches.

  “Nope.”

  “Then we’d better get out of here.” Robin cupped his hands and called toward the back. “Chantelle! How’s the dog?”

  “Okay!”

  “Then let’s roll!”

  A moment later, Chantelle came out from the back room. Her shorts and half her T-shirt were soaked. “You said to use a lot of water,” she told Robin.

  “You’re like, the attack dog whisperer,” Sly commented, a wisecrack, which Chantelle found hyst
erically funny.

  “You a funny boy,” she told Sly.

  “Let’s discuss Sly’s sense of humor somewhere else,” Robin instructed. It wasn’t likely that the crooks would return while they were in there, but he didn’t want to take a chance. He’d already had that scary experience with the Rangers.

  A minute later, the three of them were outside with Mr. Smith. They gave him the report: Yes, it’s a chop shop. No, there’s no cash.

  “So whatchu want to do now?” Mr. Smith asked Robin.

  “Let’s call the cops,” Robin decided. He looked at Sly. “You’re the performer, make the call. Make it sound good.”

  Sly smiled. “I so have this covered.”

  Sly took out his cell and called the police. He reported that he had been walking in the alley near Ninth Street and Garvey and found the rear entrance to the business at 919 Garvey wide open. It looked like a chop shop. Not only that, there was a dog inside that looked hurt. Could the police come right away and maybe bring a vet too? In the meantime, he was going to call some friends to hang out till the police arrived.

  Robin grinned when Sly was done. It was absolutely the perfect way to report what they’d found.

  “You’re a magician,” Chantelle declared.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Sly promised her.

  Sly’s call was a big success. An Ironwood police cruiser pulled into the alley not ten minutes after Sly clicked off. Two cops got out. One was older and white, the other was younger and black. Robin recognized them immediately. They were Officer Leedham and Officer Goodall, the same cops who had barged into the Center a couple of weeks before to “arrest” Robin. In fact, they’d just wanted to talk with him and Miz Paige privately.

  Mr. Smith and Sly recognized the cops too. “You two?” Sly exclaimed.

  “We meet again,” Leedham said, with a knowing look at Robin. “Who made the call?”

  Sly raised his hand. “I did.”

  “Okay. Wait here while we take a look inside,” Leedham instructed.

  Guns in hand, the two cops entered the garage. Once the place was secure—Robin could have told them it was fine but knew he’d be better off saying nothing—Goodall called the city animal control department about the German shepherd. Leedham came back out to talk to the kids and Mr. Smith.

  “Thank you, young man,” he told Sly. “What’s your name?”

  “Sylvester Thomas. Call me Sly.”

  “Thank you, Sly. Your instincts are good. This is definitely a chop shop,” Officer Leedham told him, then turned to the whole group. “My partner’s gonna write up a report, and then you should all head home. We’re gonna stake this place out and see if we can catch the perps. It could take a while. Maybe all night.”

  Officer Goodall took down everyone’s name, address, and phone number. Then he asked Robin if he could talk with him privately.

  “Sure, I guess,” Robin said.

  They walked together until they were out of earshot of the others.

  “Your friend Sly? That’s what Leedham and I were talking about with you and your grandmother,” Goodall told Robin. “That’s an example of what a good citizen does. Learn from him.”

  Robin nodded. No way could he tell the cop that he was the one responsible for blowing the whistle on this chop shop, not Sly. So he said the only thing he could.

  “Okay, Officer Goodall. I will.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next morning at free breakfast, Robin sat next to Kaykay, across from Chantelle and Sly. The breakfast, for a change, was something that Kaykay could actually eat—organic muffins made without eggs and cartons of soy milk instead of regular milk.

  “You know why we’re havin’ this, don’chu?” Kaykay asked as she tore open the soy milk carton.

  “Why do I have the feeling you’re about to overshare?” Sly asked.

  “Because I went to Principal Kwon, and I brought all kinds of articles about how soy milk is just as good as whole milk but even cheaper when you buy it in bulk,” Kaykay said triumphantly. “And that some of us are vegan, which the school should do something about, didn’t he think?”

  Robin bit into the muffin. He wasn’t going to say anything to Kaykay, but he thought it tasted like baked sawdust.

  Chantelle tried the muffin too. “Omigod, Kaykay. This is unbelievable!”

  “Unbelievable good or unbelievable bad?” Kaykay asked, with doubt in her voice.

  “Unbelievable good! What else organic is this good?”

  Sly groaned. “Oh no. Don’t tell me that you both are going natural!”

  Chantelle flipped her dark hair. “If I did, would you?”

  “No!”

  Chantelle flipped her hair again. “We’ll see about that.”

  Everyone laughed. Robin felt great. True, they hadn’t found any money they could donate to the church for the mission, but he, Sly, and Kaykay had made a new friend who was willing to help them with their operations. It made Robin think that maybe, just maybe, Robin in da hood could get back into business again.

  If we’re careful, he told himself.

  “Kids? Can I have your attention, please?”

  Robin heard a strange voice behind him. He turned. It was Principal Kwon’s secretary. She was white, stout, and had a severely short hairdo. Robin didn’t even know her name.

  The conversation stopped.

  “I’m Ms. Maxwell, Principal Kwon’s administrative aide,” she barked. “If you children are Robinson Paige, Sylvester Thomas, and Chantelle Price, please come with me. Principal Kwon wants to see you. Right now.”

  Robin worried as Ms. Maxwell led the way to Principal Kwon’s private office. What could this possibly be about? Plus, it felt awful to leave Kaykay behind. But Ms. Maxwell made it clear that only Robin, Chantelle, and Sly were to follow her.

  She showed them into Mr. Kwon’s office. To Robin’s surprise, Officers Leedham and Goodall from Ironwood PD were in there too. They stood near the bookcase while Mr. Kwon finished a phone call.

  This must have something to do with yesterday. But what? Have the cops figured out that we were inside the chop shop before they were? But Sly told them that he’d looked inside!

  Robin and his friends were ushered into three waiting chairs. Principal Kwon stood. “Good to see you here. These policemen wanted to talk to you. Officer Leedham?”

  The older cop took a few steps toward them. “I wanted to thank you all again in front of your principal,” he said. “Especially Sly. Because of his actions and his quick thinking, we managed to break up an auto theft ring that has taken down more than two hundred vehicles in the last three months. The guys running it were career crooks.”

  Officer Goodall joined his partner. “It was big. So big that there was a major reward posted for the arrest of the ringleaders. We managed to pop them all last night, thanks to your help, Sly.”

  Major reward? Robin looked at his friend. Sly’s jaw hung slack.

  “Since they confessed, there’s no doubt about a conviction,” Leedham went on. “Sly, it could take a month or two, but the reward will be yours.”

  For a moment, there was silence in the room. Then Sly jumped to his feet and punched the air. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

  Everyone laughed, even Principal Kwon.

  Sly was getting a reward. Robin thought it couldn’t happen to a better buddy.

  “Ten thousand dollars?” Mr. Smith exclaimed. “You’re getting a ten thousand dollar reward?”

  Sly nodded. “Yep. Personally. A check made out to me.”

  It was after school. Robin and his friends, including Chantelle, had come to the Center to meet up with Mr. Smith and share the good news about Sly’s reward. Chantelle had never been to the Center, so the kids introduced her to everyone. She was welcomed like family.

  Now they were together with Mr. Smith in the Center’s lobby. They could hear the sound of jazz being played on a piano in the social hall. Robin knew that it had to be Wanda at the keyboard.
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  “Whatchu gonna do with that money?” Mr. Smith asked.

  That was a good question. Robin had decided he wouldn’t blame Sly if he kept it. Sly’s dream was to be rich and famous; ten grand could go a long way toward getting started.

  “He’s giving it to the church for the mission,” Chantelle declared.

  “I am?” Sly asked.

  “Of course you are!” Kaykay jumped in to back up Chantelle. “You didn’t earn it, Sly. Robin found that chop shop. All you did was make the call. Besides, you’re part of the group. Robin in da hood. We take from the bad and give to the good! Uh-huh!” Kaykay popped a few moves that made everyone grin.

  “What if I don’t want to give it to the good? What if I want to keep it?” Sly asked them. “I mean, I’m jus’ askin’.”

  Chantelle leaned over and kissed Sly on the cheek. “That’ll be the first and last kiss you get from me. But if you give the money to the church, who knows?”

  “Done deal,” Sly pronounced.

  “Smart boy,” Chantelle told him. She didn’t kiss him again, but she slid over next to him and took his hand in hers. Sly grinned from ear to ear.

  She likes him. And as more than just a friend.

  Kaykay edged toward Robin. “I don’t want you to feel left out.” She kissed Robin on the cheek and took his hand.

  “How about Mr. Smith?” Robin asked.

  The two girls looked at each other. Then, as if they’d planned it, they stepped toward Mr. Smith, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him too—one on each cheek.

  Mr. Smith grinned as big as Sly had. “That’s all the reward I need.”

  Robin held up one finger. “Now that the kissing is done, can I have everyone’s attention?”

  Everyone quieted. Robin thought for a moment about what he wanted to say, exactly.

  “Well, we got the money for the church mission,” he told them. “Not the way we planned, but we got it anyway. I’m thinking that maybe this is a sign. Maybe Robin in da hood really does need to get back in business.”

  “We already in business!” Sly shouted.

  “I mean, against the Rangers. There’s a lot of good we can do, and a lot of ways we can do it. As long as we use our heads.” He took a long look at Chantelle. “I’m counting on you here,” Robin said seriously.