Ali Cross Page 9

  “Why? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “Listen,” he said. “I don’t have a lot of time. But I know you’ve been trying to find me, and I need to ask a huge favor.”

  “Anything. What is it?” I asked.

  “Stop.”

  “What do you mean? Stop what?” I asked.

  “Stop looking for me,” Gabe said. “It’s better if you do. For both of us.”

  “Slow down!” I said. I felt like I was on some kind of bullet train. Like everything was flying by so fast, I couldn’t focus on any of it. “I need you to take about eight steps back—”

  His avatar backed away from mine.

  “Very funny,” I said. “Seriously, Gabe, what the hell is going on?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said.

  “Is that why you broke into my house? Because it’s complicated?” I asked. I didn’t mean to sound mad. In fact, I didn’t care that he’d done that. I just wanted to know why.

  “I’m really sorry about that. I wish I could get you all your stuff back, but I can’t. It’s too late for that.”

  “So, I know why you brought back the laptop, but what about the guns?” I asked.

  “Those things freaked me out,” he said.

  “I knew it!” I said, too loud, and turned to look at the stairs to make sure nobody was coming. Then I went on, whispering again. “But why’d you take them in the first place?”

  “Wasn’t my choice,” he said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Listen,” he said, “I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t, okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s not good enough,” I said. “Is this about your dad? Is he the reason you ran away?”

  But Gabe wasn’t biting on any of my questions. “Just one other thing,” he said. “Did you tell anyone about this yet? I mean with your laptop and all?”

  “No,” I said. “It seemed like you wanted it to be a secret.”

  “Good,” he told me. “Let’s keep it that way. Total code of silence, okay? Not even Cedric, Ruby, or Mateo. And especially not your dad.”

  Now I was getting scared all over again. “Why, Gabe? Tell me something. Tell me anything, man,” I said.

  “If it gets too hot around here, I’m going to have to find a new spot, and then I don’t know where I’d go,” he said. “That’s why you gotta quit looking for me. At least now I have…” He stopped for a second like maybe he’d said too much.

  “At least now you have what?” I asked.

  “Just promise you won’t say anything. Please?”

  I was feeling more desperate by the second, like this was only making things worse. But Gabe didn’t sound so good, either.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I promise. But then, why did you even come here? Why are we having this conversation?”

  “Because you’re my only friend,” Gabe said. “My only real friend, anyway. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  That was almost like another joke. I was obviously going to worry now, more than ever.

  “Are you coming back?” I asked. “Like, ever?” I knew I was asking too many questions, too fast, but I couldn’t stop talking. “Gabe, listen. I can help you. Tell me what the problem is, or what I can do. I’ll bring you whatever you need. Just say the word.”

  He didn’t answer that one, either. It was silent for about five seconds, but his new avatar was still there, just standing like a statue. It didn’t tell me much, except that he hadn’t logged out.

  “Gabe?” I tried again.

  Then I heard another voice in the background. Not Gabe’s. Somebody else. A guy. It was too muted to pick out any words, but it sounded like he was mad about something.

  “Nothing,” Gabe said then, but not to me. He was talking to whoever was there. “It’s cool, I’m just… Chill, I’m just gaming.”

  I heard some more noise then. A shuffling sound. Maybe some kind of scuffle.

  “Gabe!”

  I felt totally helpless. It was like he was in trouble on the other side of some glass wall I couldn’t reach through. I was so close, and there wasn’t anything I could do.

  “Get off me, man!” I heard him say then. “Just give me a second—”

  Then it cut out. The sound stopped and the avatar in front of me blinked away, which meant Gabe had just logged off. Or someone had cut the power to the PlayStation.

  I felt like I’d been kicked in the chest. I wanted to cry, shout, and punch something, all at the same time. Was he okay? Was he worse off than I thought?

  Most important of all, how much time did I have left before Gabe disappeared again? He’d already proven he could do it once. Maybe he’d be even better at it the second time, and then I’d never hear from him again.

  There was no way of knowing, but it sure seemed like I needed to pick up my pace now. It was like my dad says about his own investigations: The clock is always running.

  And when it comes to a missing person, time is never on your side.

  FOR A LONG time, I stayed where I was, inside Gabe’s bunker. I wanted to be there in case he came back, but I pretty much knew that wasn’t going to happen. Still, I stuck to the basement couch, not going anywhere and watching the TV screen while I thought through everything that had just happened, about five times over. I didn’t want to forget a single detail.

  I also had to decide whether to keep my word and not tell anyone about this, or if it made more sense to break that promise, and hopefully help Gabe get home again. Half of my brain was shouting, “Keep it to yourself!” But the other half was more like, “Are you crazy?” This was a chance for the real detectives to track Gabe down. And protect him, too, in a way that I never could.

  On the other hand, there was one thing I had that the cops didn’t, and that was Gabe’s trust. I couldn’t just flush that away. The second I told Dad about any of this, I’d never be able to undo it. And the truth was, I didn’t know why Gabe was so afraid of coming back. I decided to keep the whole conversation to myself for the time being, at least until I could think about it some more.

  “Okay,” I said to myself. “Fine. I’ll keep your secret, Gabe. But there’s no way I’m going to stop looking for you, especially now that I know something shady was going on. Guess again, son.” This investigation was still on. More than ever.

  Once I’d gotten that far, I dragged my butt off the couch, dumped my soggy Rice Chex in the kitchen, and went back to my room to keep working. It was around quarter to three by now, but I cracked my laptop and started writing a bunch of new notes, as fast as I could keyboard them in.

  WHAT I KNOW

  Gabe’s alive

  He’s getting my texts

  He’s in the area

  He has access to Outpost

  Someone else is with him (at least one person; male)

  WHAT I WANT TO KNOW

  Why did Gabe run away?

  Who is he with?

  What does Mr. Qualls have to do with this (if anything)?

  Is Gabe really robbing houses?

  Where is he staying?

  WHY DOES HE WANT ME TO STOP TRYING TO FIND HIM?

  Again, there was one item that jumped out at me from the list I’d just made. It was the same thing that kept circling back into my head every time I thought about this stuff.

  Mr. Qualls.

  Gabe’s dad was like my number one suspect now, even though I wasn’t exactly sure what I suspected him of. He was living at home, but Gabe wasn’t, according to the police. I just had a strong gut feeling that he had something to do with all this. My own dad always says his gut is the most valuable tool he has at work, and if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me.

  Also, I don’t want to sound like I had a big head, but the truth was, I’d been right about Gabe all along, ever since that Christmas Eve burglary. Who was to say I didn’t have Mr. Qualls pegged, too?

  So for the second time since midnight, I got out of bed and snuck downstairs. Not fo
r my PlayStation this time, but for Bree’s laptop. I had some research to do, and if I wanted to do it right, this was the only way.

  Technically, I was breaking a whole bunch of rules that night, but like Dad said before, I was in deep on this thing.

  No stopping me now.

  I KNEW BREE’S work laptop was in her briefcase down in the front hall. And I knew she had an active Accurint account running on it, too.

  Accurint is like Google on steroids. Cops use it all the time to look up information about suspects’ criminal records, past employment, where someone’s lived, and that kind of thing.

  I parked myself on the bottom step by the hall table, opened Bree’s briefcase, and took out her Toughbook. It was the perfect spot. If Bree or Dad came into the hall upstairs, or if Nana came out of her room, I’d hear them from either direction and have enough time to slip the laptop back where I found it.

  I opened Bree’s computer, clicked on the Accurint icon, and got straight to work.

  I didn’t even know Gabe’s dad’s first name, but there are all kinds of search fields you can use in there. So I put in everything I did know—Qualls; 17th Street SE; Washington, DC.

  And that was enough. After I clicked Search, it gave me back a single matching record for those data points. Hopefully this was the right guy.

  From there, I could choose to look at “Residential History,” “Employment History,” “Known Family,” “Court Appearances,” or “Criminal Arrests and Convictions.”

  I clicked on Criminal Arrests and Convictions. And just like that, I was staring at a mug shot for the guy I recognized as Mr. Qualls. He was looking right into the camera, and it creeped me out. How bad was this guy? Or, was I just letting my imagination get the best of me? It wouldn’t have been the first time, that’s for sure.

  Mr. Qualls’s first name was William. He also went by Dante, it said, which was his middle name. The page I was on showed three convictions that had resulted in prison sentences. Two of those were in Texas, from before Gabe was born. The most recent one was for aggravated robbery, right here in Washington, DC. He’d served four years of an eight-year sentence and had just gotten released in September.

  I was shocked. Gabe had been an honest and good friend as long as I’d known him. Nothing like his dad. He had never said a word about any of this. Maybe that was some kind of clue and maybe it wasn’t, but still, it felt like enough information to keep me moving in the same direction.

  Once I’d read everything on that page, I dug a little deeper. Under Employment History, I saw that Mr. Qualls had mostly worked construction jobs in the past, but right now he was listed as unemployed.

  I also learned that Mr. and Mrs. Qualls (her name was Virginia Johnson Qualls) had been married fourteen years. Before that, Mr. Qualls had two other sons, William Jr. and Ramon. Gabe had never mentioned them, either. Nothing about any half-brothers, or any family at all. I’d always figured he was just quiet that way. But maybe there was more to it than that.

  Once I’d read through everything I could find, I navigated out of there, put back Bree’s laptop, and went to my room to think about next moves.

  It wasn’t like I’d just discovered any big secrets. I knew Detective Sutter would have looked at all of this a long time ago. Maybe Mr. Qualls was a person of interest for her investigation, too. In fact, he probably was.

  But that almost didn’t matter either way. Because the next chance I got, I was going to be knocking on the Qualls’s door again, to see what I could find out on my own.

  FINALLY, THAT TUESDAY at three thirty, my suspension was over. The timing was good, since the vigil for Gabe was that night. A whole lot of people showed up in front of the First Congregational Church at seven o’clock to lend their support. I went over with Nana, Jannie, Dad, and Bree. Cedric and his mom were there, and Mrs. Sandoval, too, handing out hot chocolate.

  Ruby and Mateo’s dad, Reverend Sandoval, was in charge of the whole thing. I stood on the sidewalk with my friends, handing out MISSING flyers while people started gathering.

  I’d already decided I wasn’t going to say anything to Ruby, Cedric, or Mateo about talking to Gabe. I was still keeping his secret that way, but otherwise, I was going to act like I’d been acting all along. That meant still looking for Gabe, still handing out those flyers, and also, telling my friends everything I was thinking about Mr. Qualls as soon as I got the chance.

  Was I doing the right thing? Hard to say, since I was breaking someone’s trust no matter what I did—either by saying more than Gabe wanted me to say, or by not saying enough to the three friends who had been in this with me from the beginning. It wasn’t like there were any perfect choices, but I went with it.

  Once the vigil started, Reverend Sandoval got up on the church steps and addressed the crowd. He led a couple of prayers and introduced the choir. They sang “Never Alone” while we all stood there in front of the church with candles. It was nice to see all these people who cared about Gabe come together like this. Even Detective Sutter was there. She got up after that and thanked everyone for keeping an eye out for Gabe wherever they went.

  Still, there was no denying the fact that it had been almost three weeks now. I’m not sure what anyone else was thinking, but Ruby, Mateo, and Cedric seemed pretty down about it.

  “Feels like a dang funeral,” Mateo said.

  “Right?” Cedric said.

  “Don’t say that,” Ruby told them. “It’s bad luck.” I could see she was trying not to cry, too. Which only made me feel worse about the eight-hundred-pound secret I was carrying on my back.

  “I know Gabe’s okay,” I said. “He’s not gone.” And by that, I meant he wasn’t dead, but I couldn’t say it out loud.

  “How can you be so sure?” Ruby asked. “You don’t know if he’s okay.”

  “I just have a feeling,” I said. “Deep in my gut.” Already, it was getting more complicated. I was going to have to watch what I said. And that’s not exactly my specialty.

  “I wish there was something else we could do,” Cedric said.

  “Actually, there is something,” I told him. “I was thinking about going back over to Gabe’s house on Saturday, and I could use a little backup.”

  Cedric nodded and put out a fist. I bumped him back, but people were also looking at us like we should shut up while the Reverend was giving his closing remarks.

  We stopped talking, but even then, I wasn’t hearing all of it. There was too much on my mind. On top of everything else, I was thinking about something Dad says happens all the time at crime scenes. The perps—people who are perpetrators of a crime—come around to watch the police work play out. Sometimes it gives them a kind of thrill. Other times, it’s more about staying informed so they can be a step ahead of the authorities.

  Not that this vigil was a crime scene. And not that Gabe was a criminal. But still, I wondered if the same idea applied. Was Gabe anywhere nearby, I wondered, just checking this all out? Or the guy he was arguing with while we were in Outpost?

  While Reverend Sandoval talked, I scanned the area around the church. I checked the edges of the crowd, and the street corners just in sight. I looked in the windows of the apartments across the street, and in the dark doorways of the Christian Science reading room, and the hardware store, and the empty Chinese restaurant, too.

  Are you here, Gabe? Watching? Right now?

  It was the same question I’d had when I was in Outpost. Hiding in plain sight was Gabe’s specialty. Like he was one part Harry Potter with that invisibility cloak, and one part Jason Bourne, from all those movies with Matt Damon. That character was always somewhere near the action, watching the people who were hunting him down, so he could figure out how to keep from being caught.

  Maybe Gabe was doing his own version of the same thing. I wouldn’t have put it past him, anyway. This was no game, but if it were, I’d say Gabe was winning, hands down. And I wasn’t even sure anymore if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

&nbs
p; SATURDAY MORNING, I made an official plan with Cedric to do some gaming at his house. I also made an unofficial plan to meet him outside the Qualls’s place before that. This was my chance to do a little more digging without anyone else knowing about it.

  Cedric was like my man in the street, since this stuff was harder for Ruby and Mateo to get away with. He was also my backup, my extra muscle, and maybe even my bodyguard, after what happened with Kahlil.

  “I just need you to wait out here,” I said when we got to Gabe’s house. “It’s safer if we’re not both inside. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if I’m not back in ten minutes, come and knock on the door.”

  Cedric didn’t look too convinced. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m looking for information about Gabe.”

  “Not what I meant,” he said. “It just seems like maybe you’re getting a little carried away with the whole detective thing. Don’t be stupid in there, okay?”

  “Sure. No stupider than usual,” I said.

  He gave me a grin for that one, but I knew he was serious, too. Then I crossed the street and went to knock on the door before he could try to talk me out of it.

  I guess some part of me was expecting Mr. Qualls to answer like last time, because I was a little surprised when a lady opened the door.

  “Uh, hi. Are you Mrs. Qualls?” I asked, even though I knew it was her. She had Gabe’s big eyes, and a bunch of beaded dreads pulled back in a scarf. She was short, too, for a grownup. I guess Gabe inherited his size from his mom, not from his dad.

  “Yes,” she said. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m a friend of Gabe’s,” I told her. “My name’s Ali, and um…”

  All kinds of thoughts were flashing through my mind now. It was a whole change-of-plans moment that happened in about half a second.

  “I was here a couple weeks ago,” I said, just rolling with it. “And I just wanted to come over and say I was sorry for bothering Mr. Qualls that day.”

  “Well, he’s not here right now,” she told me. “So don’t you worry about it. The truth is, Gabe doesn’t have a lot of friends. It’s sweet of you to stop by.”