"Typical Karen—unwilling to believe that anyone younger than her might have something useful to say." Tweed shook his head as he folded his fingers together in front of his face.
Ethan took a sip from his strawberry milkshake, admiring the records displayed above each booth of the diner. His eyes roamed over an Elvis one. "Maybe she has a point," he muttered. "Maybe we're just a couple of delusional idiots. What if Mrs. Heifenmeir wasn't murdered, and we're just crazy?"
Before Tweed had time to respond, the bell above the door jingled, alerting everyone of Mara's presence. She pranced over to their table and greeted them.
"Ah, Pencil's here."
She scowled at Tweed and looked at the top of his shaggy blonde head to his beat-up vans, her eyes lingering distastefully on his black, tight jeans that matched with his baggy tee-shirt. The onyx fabric hung loosely on his frame.
"What's with the clothes?" she asked with a lifted brow.
"What's with the face?" Tweed responded with a challenging look, rising from his seat and motioning for her to slide in. While Tweed waited expectantly, she glared at him. An unspoken conversation flittered through their gazes as they settled next to each other on the plush red booth.
"I brought my dad's camera," Mara said, holding up the silver box for Ethan to see. "I figured that it'd be good to incorporate a few photos if we really do find something worth documenting."
"Are you sure it isn't to snap a few photos of my sexy self when I'm not looking?" Tweed gestured to his face, clearly joking. However, it didn't sound like a jeer as much as it sounded like something he wanted. Mara scoffed at this, but Ethan cut in before she could respond. They were disgustingly funny.
"We should get going. I just saw Red's car leave," he said, gesturing to the wide glass window behind their booth. A midnight black sports car cruised by. Both Mara and Tweed nodded, and they all got up.
Ethan pushed the door to the diner open and stepped out. His eyes trailed after Red and the striking black Jaguar as it disappeared around the corner. Now was the perfect time to check out his unfinished bakery to find some proof, as well as a hint of where he could be living in town.
The sky was coated with a wispy layer of swift-moving clouds that dampened the atmosphere. The whole street filled with an air of gloom, especially since the painted streets were empty. Ethan couldn't help but wonder what Mrs. Heifenmeir would say about their expedition.
Once again, the bell above the door to Bjornie's clinked, and Tweed spilled onto the street. He seemed to catch a certain look in Ethan's eyes because he ambled over to him and laid a heavy hand on his hoodie.
"You alright, man?" Tweed asked. With a shrug, Ethan forced his lips to curve up.
"I guess."
Before Tweed had any time to react, Mara flounced up to them. "Ready?" she asked. Ethan nodded, pushing ahead of both of them and leading their escapade. Tweed hung back at Mara's side. Ethan couldn't help but sigh when he caught whispers of their conversation about him. 'Was he alright? Should they do something?'
Once the gang was in front of the building, they stared up at the tan, unpainted brick exterior. How were they going to get in? Ethan thought.
From the time that Ethan and Tweed had first snuck into the building to now, the exterior was completely finished, and they hoped that the inside would be close to done as well. If the interior was finished, there was a guarantee that Red's office would be set up, and they would be able to find something suspicious to incriminate him with.
Tweed motioned for them to follow as he crept along the side of the building. His expression turned into a broad beam as he spotted the tarp they had entered the building through the last time.
He moved the tarp up, but instead of seeing a gaping hole, gray slabs filled in the section. "Drat. They closed up this section," Tweed hissed, sucking his teeth as he scanned the rest of the building before unconsciously reaching back grabbing Ethan's hand.
In slow motion, his blonde head turned to face the boy. He shoved his hand away when he realized it wasn't Mara's. Ethan whistled low, but didn't comment further as they continued to prowl down the side of the building, arriving at the back.
Amidst the sea of dusty bricks encased with mortar, a glass security door was positioned in the center, ripe for the use of three sleuthing teens.
"How are we getting that open?" Ethan whispered, but when he glanced at his friend's face, complete with the signature sickly-sweet grin, he groaned. "Curse that brilliant mind."
"Mara, do you see any loose construction materials that are pretty hefty?" Tweed called out as he studied the lock of the glass door. Somehow, Ethan doubted Tweed was going to use 'hefty construction materials' to pick the lock.
Mara's eyes roamed the base of the building before she picked up a metal pipe, swinging it twice in her hand like a lightsaber, then dropping it accidentally.
The clatter of the metal on the concrete caused them to collectively suck in a breath and wait for someone to scold them and/or arrest them. When there was no sound or movement other than their own, Tweed was the first to take a step toward the door. He grabbed the metal pipe, locking eyes with Mara as he grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around so that the back of her styled afro puffs faced them.
"What are you doing?" she asked as she tried to turn back around. Tweed silenced her, and when he was sure that she wasn't able to see him, he arched the pipe back over his shoulder and swung it at the glass part of the door.
The pipe hit with a brash crash, causing the glass to form transparent spiderwebs. He beat the door again, and this time, the glass shattered, the ice shards spilling onto the concrete floor within.
Mara's breath hitched as she turned and saw the pipe fall out of Tweed's grasp. His face was stormy, and he didn't dare look at her as he shoved his hand through the open slits of the metal grate, unlocking the door.
Without any complaints, he was the first to enter the building. Everything was almost exactly the same, but this time, windows and doors were placed over the once-open spaces, casting angled shadows into the room.
Mara raised her camera as they entered the office with light steps, all collectively breathing in relief. The simple, metal desk in the center of the room was cluttered with various papers and files. Mahogany bookshelves installed along the sides of the room were barren and waiting for a collection of texts.
"Ethan, you search the drawers of the desk. I'll keep a lookout. Mara, look on the mountain," Tweed said and gestured to the huge stacks of papers strewn across the surface of the metal desk without care.
Even though Mara grimaced at the fact that she was going to have the hardest job, she nodded, drawing her camera close to her as she shuffled through papers.
Tweed leaned against the doorway, and Ethan tuned into the quiet atmosphere like a radio station. The only audible sounds were the shuffling of shoes, the flipping of papers, and the wheels of drawers rolling out. He breathed in the scent of rock dust and resisted the urge to cough as particles flew into his nose.
Rummaging through each drawer, he was careful to put everything back into place. Ethan reached the second from the bottom when he spotted something peculiar. He lifted up a set of keys from various white slips of paper nestled to the drawer.
"What is that?" Mara whispered as he turned the keys over in his warm palm. They were house keys, but to which house, he had no clue. An idea swarmed his mind, and he glanced up at the girl.
"Do you see any house closing papers?" he asked, rising to his feet as he began ransacking the desk. After a few minutes of intense searching, Mara fished an official-looking page out of the pile.
"Take a look at this," she said and thrust the page into Ethan's hands. He squinted as he scanned over the premise of the sheet. It was a contract, signed by Red, for a house closing in town. Tweed padded over to them and took a look over Ethan's shoulder.
"I know where this is. It's by the old church."
"Is someone in here?"
All of a sudden, the quiet atmosphere broke, and the sound of heavy footfalls caused Ethan's eyes to grow wide. He shoved the contract into a gap between stacks of towering white papers and pulled both Mara and Tweed down with him to hide behind the desk.
As they huddled together, they listened to the footsteps on the broken glass and heard someone suck in a frustrated breath.
"Yes, hello? I'm calling today to inquire about the warranty on a set of security doors I bought a few days ago," the voice said.
"God, what do we do?" Mara breathed out. She gripped the side of the desk for stability, and Tweed placed a hand over her knuckles, which were deathly white. This seemed to calm her down. Ethan didn't have the galls to make a joke about this.
The panic began to rise in Ethan's chest. What if Red caught them? He would call the cops on them again, and then, they would all be in jail. His parents would kill him, and they would lose their lead on Red, the element of surprise.
For what seemed like ages, they crouched in the same spot, waiting for Red's droning voice to fade into the distance. When the heavy thud of his dress shoes retreated, echoing on the concrete, Ethan exhaled while clutching his chest and turned to Tweed.
"We need to check this place out. There could be something there that we can use as evidence against him," Tweed whispered, chewing on his lower lip.
Mara shook her head. "We should wait. If we search his house and find evidence, we couldn't present it to a court as valid evidence if he really did... ya know."
Ethan nodded in agreeance. "Yeah. My dad's team ignores any evidence found outside of a search warrant. And what if Thomas is home?"
With a glare, Tweed turned to Ethan. Hesitantly, Ethan shook his head. Not agreeing with Tweed felt like he was violating some sort of unspoken moral code. Like he was breaking the law.
Tweed's head cocked to the side as he bargained with Ethan wordlessly. He said, "We won't touch anything. Let's just look and confirm what we already highly suspect."
Ethan's face contorted into a look of inner turmoil as he and Tweed stared at each other with defiant expressions, but he was adamant. Acting too early could ruin everything. Tweed was wrong about this. With a frown, Tweed grabbed Ethan's hoodie sleeve and pulled him aside, ignoring Mara's smug look that said, 'See? Even your dorky friend agrees with me!'
"What's with you, Ethan?" Tweed asked, his brows lifting.
"What do you mean?" Ethan knew exactly what he was talking about.
Tweed pushed his blonde, curtain bangs out of his face, running his fingers through his hair. He let out a strangled-sounding breath. "I mean this. You not taking my side."
Ethan's lips turned down, and his skin creased with frown lines. "I don't agree with us going through with this because it's dangerous and reckless."
"Since when have you cared about being reckless? You've gone through with more reckless ideas of mine. Why won't you take my side? And agreeing with Mara? What's that about?" Tweed demanded with folded arms.
"You seem to have no trouble agreeing with her recently. I mean, you're acting like I should be your sidekick or something." Ethan's cheeks felt hot like hellfire, and his fingers trembled as he stared at his friend.
Tweed's expression softened, but instead of the apology Ethan was looking for, he said, "Well... yeah. Batman and Robin, remember?"
"In case you haven't noticed, Mrs. Heifenmeir is dead! I don't want to be a sidekick, or a third-wheel, or whatever you want to categorize me as anymore!" Ethan shouted. The room fell into a lapse of silence. The only sound emitted from a ticking clock on the newly-painted wall.
"What... what's going on with you? What's going on with us?!" Tweed cried out, gripping Ethan's shoulders so tight that the blood escaped his knuckles.
"Tweed-"
"Tweed, stop, you're hurting him," Mara observed, her eyes fixed on Tweed's hands. As if snapping out of a trance, the boy released him, his hands trembling as they fell to his sides. He tripped back, staring straight down at his Vans.
After another uncomfortable pause, Ethan's words were a wisp of stray cotton candy, foregone by the eater to drift endlessly in the breeze. "I'll go." But it was too late. The status quo, Ethan and Tweed's normal, had been disrupted. And it was his fault.
"We should hurry," Ethan clipped, and they all walked back to the Honda, in direct view of the sun-shaped windows of the bakery.
.
.
.
What do you think the crew is going to find at Red's house? Is Red truly the cause of Mrs. Heifenmeir's death? These are the questions, peoples!
Also... I'm not sure if I'm allowed to speak on this, but I wanted to say something, especially since Ethan and his family are East Asian, and this has been a hot issue where I live recently—it is never okay for people to throw racially-charged insults at any group of people for any reason.
As someone who has always struggled with her identity and has gotten the question, 'what are you,' as if I'm some sort of slab of meat, and has been called various insults related to my race, I think it is very unfair that people are targeting East Asians during this time, calling them insults, and directing hate to them.
I don't want to get political here either, because that's not what this is for. This pandemic that's going on? We're all going through it. It's not 'you vs. me,' or any of this bullcrap about separation. We need to come together as people. Please— if you see anyone threatening to hurt any group of people, say something to the right authorities. Find the number of your local precinct. Tell your school's administrators.
Hope you all are staying safe during the month of March and being a good person. Sorry this author's note was kind of long, but I hope you stuck around for it. I love you all so much, peace!