She walked into the playland, then did a quick look over both shoulders before crouching down (with difficulty, due to the tight jeans), next to Mr. Kangaroo's back left paw.

  Bingo.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sam and I popped up from the bench and converged on the girl. She stood and turned to go, and I recognized her face immediately. Drea Barlow.

  Drea was a cheerleader at our school, which meant she was constantly walking that fine line between sophisticated and skanky. Tight clothes, thick eyeliner, and padded bras were the uniform of all cheerleaders at our school, both on and off the field. Half the squad had tattoos, ninety percent had eating disorders, and every year they lost at least two of their ranks to unplanned pregnancies where serious calculations were needed just to figure paternity. I'd had a couple of classes with Drea, and while I didn't know her well, I did know that she had failed our last lit assignment when she'd included a description of Keira Knightley's dress in her Pride & Prejudice oral book report.

  "Busted," I said as Sam and I approached her.

  Drea blinked at me. "Hartley? What are you doing here?"

  "Catching you in the act," Sam answered for me.

  "In the act of what?" she asked, playing dumb. Or, honestly, maybe not acting all that much.

  "In the act of selling Sam the answers to next week's history test."

  "No way." Drea shook her head. "I'm not selling anything. You're totally wrong."

  "Then what are you doing with my 100 bucks?" I asked, pointing to the cash in her hand.

  She looked down at it, then quickly shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans. Or it would have been quickly if they hadn't been painted on. These were beyond skinny jeans. They were like a denim wetsuit. She wiggled, struggling to hide the evidence as she continued shaking her head. "I found that money."

  "We watched you walk right to it," Sam pointed out.

  Drea bit her lip. "So? I can walk wherever I want. It's a free country."

  I gave her a get real look.

  "Get real," Sam said, not content to stick with just a look. "Drea, you knew the money would be there because you're the one who told us to put it there."

  She shrugged. "Prove it."

  Sam narrowed her eyes at her. "Fine." Then she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed the number we'd texted our request to yesterday. I heard it ring three times on Sam's end, but the phone I could clearly see outlined in Drea's right front pocket remained conspicuously silent.

  "See?" Drea said with a smirk. "I'm innocent. Now, if you don't mind, I have things to do." Then she brushed past us, making a beeline down the mall.

  Sam moved to stop her, but I put a hand on her arm.

  "Wait," I whispered as we watched Drea's boots clomp away. "Let's follow her."

  Sam raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

  "Clearly Drea isn't the person you texted yesterday."

  "Clearly."

  "Which means she's probably picking up the cash for whoever is really behind selling the cheats."

  "Like a mastermind?"

  I shot her a look. "What, are we in an Austin Powers movie?"

  Sam shrugged. "What? It's a very accurate description."

  I had to admit, it kinda was.

  I watched Drea turn the corner at the Jamba Juice. "Fine. A mastermind. Now, come on. Let's see where she goes."

  Sam and I jogged past the Jamba then peeked around a potted palm tree. Drea was paused in front of the Forever 21, three stores down. We watched as she checked out the window display then walked inside. We quickly ran to the front of the store and slipped inside, ducking behind a rack of cap-sleeve tees.

  "What's she doing?" I asked as Sam peeked her head around the side shelf.

  "She's looking at the earrings," Sam whispered back. "Now she's checking out a belt…and a matching cuff bracelet."

  Fabulous. Drea was on a shopping detour.

  "Is she meeting anyone? Talking to anyone?"

  Sam craned her neck around a pile of clothes. "She just said something to the salesgirl, but I think it was about the bracelet's price tag." She paused. "I think it might be on sale."

  I rolled my eyes. "What's she doing now?"

  "Checking out a sweater…oh, it's really cute. I wonder if that's on sale."

  "Focus, Sam," I said, but I couldn't help peeking around the display. She was right. It was a cute sweater. I made a mental note to come back later.

  Unfortunately, I watched as Drea took the sweater and headed back toward the dressing rooms.

  "This is pointless," I decided. "Let's go." I nodded toward the door, and we slunk out of the store.

  "Now what?" Sam asked.

  I shrugged. "I guess we wait for her to finish shopping."

  Sam nodded, her gaze slowly surveying the mall. "I'm gonna get a Jamba. Want one?"

  I shook my head. "I'll keep watch," I offered, gesturing to Forever 21.

  Fifteen minutes later, Sam came back with a smoothie, a Wetzel's pretzel, and a carton of Potato Corner chili cheese fries.

  "Dude."

  Sam blinked at me. "What? I haven't had lunch."

  "Didn't I see you down a chicken platter at Chuck's?"

  She shrugged. "That was a midmorning snack. Besides," she said, shoving a fry into her mouth, "I have a lacrosse game later. I need my strength."

  I would have argued that chili cheese fries were hardly the lunch of champions, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Drea leaving Forever 21 with a plastic shopping bag in hand.

  I elbowed Sam in the ribs. "Let's go."

  We did, following her at a pace of three stores back as she walked toward the center of the mall. She paused again outside Hot Topic, slipping inside. I followed (leaving Sam outside the store to down her feast), ducking around displays as I watched Drea grab a micro-mini and head for a dressing room.

  Four outfits later, she finally made a purchase and headed back out again.

  I let her get ahead, lingering near the wall of T-shirts with cartoon characters spouting inappropriate slogans (at least that's how my mom would characterize them—I actually thought a couple were kinda funny), and then slipped back outside to find Sam hot on Drea's tail four stores down.

  Unfortunately, we only got a few feet before Drea ducked into Pacific Sun and started eyeing bikinis.

  Half an hour later, Sam's meal was a thing of the past, she'd sucked the last of her smoothie, and Drea had taken us on a tour of pretty much the entire mall.

  "Maybe she's not meeting the seller today," Sam suggested.

  "Maybe he's just late."

  "Maybe she really did just find the cash. Or maybe she saw us put it there and decided to take it."

  I pursed my lips together, really not liking that theory. "Five more minutes. If she doesn't lead us anywhere by then, we'll call it a bust."

  Sam nodded, eyeing the Cold Stone Creamery to our right as we followed Drea toward the food court. "Maybe I should get some dessert…" She trailed off.

  "There!" I said, pointing to Drea and grabbing Sam by the arm.

  I felt my heart leap into my throat as I watched Drea sit down at a table near the Panda Express, where a guy in a black wool beanie cap was eating chow mein. She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling something from her back pocket and sliding it across the table.

  I sucked in a breath. Our cash.

  "Holy fudge, that's the guy!" Sam whispered in my ear.

  "Let's go get him."

  We quickly converged on the table.

  As we approached, Drea spotted us, a look of first shock then anger on her face.

  "What are you two doing here?" she asked, narrowing heavily lined eyes until there was nothing but mascara showing.

  "Catching you red-handed," Sam said, pointing at the guy with her.

  He looked up, and I recognized him from school. I didn't know his name, but I'd seen him in the halls. He had dark eyes, dark longish hair, and a warm tan. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with some skateboard company's logo on it. His long legs were stretched out in front of himself under the table, ending in a pair of checkered Vans.

  "Caught who doing what?" he asked, blinking innocently.

  "Caught Drea bringing you the cash for the test answers we purchased. From you," Sam said, still pointing a finger at the guy.

  He looked from Sam to me. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

  "Oh, come off it, Nicky," Sam said, plopping herself into an empty seat across from the guy. Apparently she did know him.

  "Nicky?" I asked, sitting down, too.

  Sam turned to me. "This is Nicky Williams. He's in my AP English class. And," she said, giving him a pointed look, "he was also in Mr. Lipkins' Precalculus class last year, too."

  Nicky shrugged. "A lot of people have had Lipkins."

  "A lot of people didn't just send their flunky to pick up cash from the kids' playland."

  "Hey!" Drea protested. "I'll have you know I'm not flunking any subjects this semester."

  Nicky homed his gaze in on me. "You're the girl who found Sydney, right? From the Homepage?"

  Not really what I wanted to be known for, but I nodded.

  He shook his head. "That really sucked what happened to her."

  "Sucks losing customers, huh?" Sam said, emphasizing the word.

  Nicky grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Customers? Gosh, I'm sorry. I really don't know what you're talking about."

  The mock innocence thing was getting old. I grabbed Sam's phone from her pocket and dialed the number of our seller.

  Immediately, music starting singing from Nicky's pocket.

  Nicky bit the inside of his cheek, not bothering to pull his phone out as I shot him a pointed look.

  "Okay, fine," he conceded. "Look, you wanna know about Sydney? I'll talk." He paused, shooting me a look. "But this is off the record," he added.

  As much as I didn't like the sound of that, I nodded. Better than no talk at all. "Fine. Off the record."

  "What do you want to know?"

  "You are the guy we texted last night?" Sam asked.

  He nodded. "Yeah."

  "And you're selling test answers to people at school?"

  Again with the nod.

  "Did you sell them to Sydney Sanders?"

  He paused this time before answering. "She was in a jam. I helped her out."

  "For a fee."

  "A guy's gotta eat, ya know?" he said, gesturing to the pile of chow mein in front of him.

  "Where did you get the answers?"

  "I have a source."

  "What kind of source?" Sam asked.

  "The kind I'm not gonna talk about. Next question," he said, nodding my way.

  "Fine," I said, switching gears. "How many people at Herbert Hoover High are involved in this?" I asked.

  "How many have I sold to?" he asked. "Maybe a couple dozen this semester."

  Sam whistled low. "That's it. I'm never getting into Stanford now."

  "And none of those people know who you are? It's all been anonymous?" I asked.

  "Yep."

  "Did Sydney know who you were?"

  Nicky shook his head. "No. I use a separate phone for all transactions. No one knows who I am."

  Sam glanced at his girlfriend. "Drea does."

  Drea blinked at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Nothing," Sam said. "Just that no one isn't totally accurate."

  Nicky crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. Drea knows. That's it."

  And we knew. And anyone who might have stuck around to see exactly who took their cash from under the rock at the football game. Let's face it, there's a chance he wasn't as strictly anonymous as he thought.

  Nicky narrowed his eyes at me. "Why do you want to know, anyway?"

  I figured I had nothing to lose leveling with him.

  "Sydney was going to tell me something important the day she died."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. She died before she could tell me. But I assume it had something to do with where she got the test answers."

  Nicky shook his head. "Look, Sydney dropped the cash, and I sent her the answers. That's it. She had no idea who I was. She even passed me in class the day of Lipkins' test and asked if I'd studied. She was clueless, trust me."

  Despite his suggestion, that wasn't something I was totally prepared to do yet.

  "Where were you the afternoon that Sydney died?" I asked instead.

  "What do you mean?"

  "She means, do you have an alibi?" Sam asked.

  "Whoa!" Nicky put both hands out in a defensive gesture. "Sydney committed suicide, right? What do I need an alibi for?"

  "We don't think it was suicide. We think it was homicide."

  Sam nodded in agreement beside me. "Twittercide, to be exact."

  Nicky gave her a funny look. "Well, it wasn't me," he said defiantly.

  "Then where were you?" I pressed.

  He paused before answering. "Home."

  "On a school day?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

  "I was sick. I had a cold."

  "Can anyone vouch for that?" I asked.

  "Drea can," Nicky said, nodding across the table at the girl who'd been conspicuously silent during our exchange. "She stopped by before school to check on me."

  "Before school," I said, pouncing on the word. "So, when Sydney died after school, you were alone."

  Nicky bit his lip. "I guess. So what?"

  "So maybe you thought Sydney knew too much and needed to be shut up before she blew the whistle on your whole operation," Sam offered.

  He shook his head. "No way. Like I said, Sydney didn't know who she was buying the cheats from."

  "Are you sure about that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. "Because it wasn't all that hard for us to find out."

  He paused, looking from me to Sam, letting the truth of that sink in. "Anyway, even if she did know, she wouldn't tell."

  "She ratted out her best friend," Sam pointed out.

  "Look, I told you I was sick. I was home. And no one can prove otherwise." Nicky jutted his chin forward, as if challenging me to do just that.

  "Well, then where was Drea at 3:30?" Sam asked, turning on the cheerleader.

  "Me?!" she squeaked out. "Why would I want to hurt Sydney?"

  "Why did you pick up the cash for Nicky today?" I countered. "Maybe he told you to do another little favor for him and silence Sydney."

  Drea paled beneath her layers of makeup. "Nicky would never ask me to do that. He's a sweetheart."

  "A sweetheart who sells illegal cheats."

  "But he doesn't hurt anyone!" Drea protested.

  "Ha!" Sam countered. "You think messing with a grading curve is a victimless crime? I'm pulling an A-minus average this semester. A-minus!"

  "Dude," Nicky said, putting hands out in front of him again. "Enough. I didn't kill Sydney, and neither did Drea, okay? Period. End of story."

  Only, it did not feel like end of story to me. "Look, you can either tell us where you were," I warned, "or we can turn you in to the police and you can talk to them."

  Nicky put his hands out, palms up. "Turn me in for what? I haven't done anything."

  "Seriously?" Sam asked, putting her hands on her hips.

  Nicky grinned. "Well, anything that you can prove. I'll deny everything I just told you."

  "What about the cash?" I asked.

  "Drea found it. Plain and simple."

  "Quite a coincidence."

  "What were you doing buying test answers anyway?" Nicky said, giving Sam a pointed look.

  "It was for the Homepage story!"

  "Says you."

  "What do you mean 'says you'?" Sam asked nervously.

  "Anything you say is your word against mine. You turn me in, I turn Sam in to the vice principal for trying to cheat. Got it?"

  Sam narrowed her eyes at Nicky, thinking all sorts of dirty words if I could read them correctly. "You fluff-eating son of a spelunking monkey with a—"

  "Fine," I said, breaking in before Sam could get any more creative. "We'll just have to find out the truth another way."

  Nicky shrugged, then leaned back in his seat and dropped a chow mein noodle into his smug mouth. "Good luck with that, girls."

  I hated to admit that he was right. We were in serious need of some luck.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "I guess Nicky's a dead end," Sam observed as we walked back through the mall.

  "Agreed." Unfortunately. "But I think he was lying about his alibi. I don't think he was at home."

  Sam nodded. "You think he killed Sydney to protect his secret?"

  I shrugged. "It's possible. If Sydney knew who she was buying from."

  Sam paused. "How did she say she got Nicky's number in the first place?"

  "Quinn said Sydney's boyfriend, Connor, gave it to her."

  Sam raised two eyebrows at me. "So Connor helped Sydney cheat too? That's something I bet the vice principal doesn't know."

  I nodded, picking up her train of thought. "You're right. Sydney rolled on Quinn, but as far as I know, she kept Connor's name out of it." I paused. "I wonder how far Connor would go to keep it that way?"

  "He's on the football team. Varsity. Getting suspended would get him kicked off for sure. Can't imagine he'd be too happy about it."

  "Would Sydney out her own boyfriend, though?" I asked.

  Sam shrugged. "She outed her best friend. Let's face it, Sydney was not the most loyal person."

  "Good point," I said. "So, how loyal do you think she was to Connor?"

  "Let's go find out."

  * * *

  Connor Crane was not only the starting quarterback for the football team, but he was also luckily on the water polo team with Kyle, who texted Connor's number to Sam, who then texted Connor, who said he was at work but would meet us at Nickel City in two hours.

  Which was just enough time for Sam to catch the tail end of her tutoring appointment. Sam and I coughed the Green Machine up to Do the Math! tutoring center, and Sam rushed in to conquer the SATs while I waited in the car. I wished I'd taken the time to grab something to eat at the food court before we left, as the scent of fried food smoke was making me hungry. Instead, I pulled out my phone and messaged Chase, updating him on our interview with Nicky.