knees, gasping for air, but I remain on high alert.
Eventually my breathing returns to something like normal. I see no sign of a stalker, psycho or thief. Not that this is a good thing. In fact, itâs bad, because it means the lunatic may be inside the house. I manage to stand, even though my legs feel strangely bendy. I try them out for walking, and they workâmore or less. I wobble to the front door and ring the bell.
Footsteps approach from the inside, and then the door swings open to reveal Ella.
âAngus!â she says. Her face turns a rosy shade of pink. âYouâre here.â
âYes,â I say. I lean toward her and lower my voice. âDonât panic. I want you to gather your family and get them out of the house. And then weâll call the police.â
Ellaâs eyes dart about. She licks her lips. Clearly, sheâs frightened. She tucks a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. âUh,â she says. âWhy?â
âBecause,â I hiss, âI think the guy who stole your sketchbook may be in your house.â
Her brown eyes widen. Her mouth forms a circle. The pinkness of her skin deepens, especially on the tip of her nose. And then she starts giggling. She claps a hand over her mouth to stop the nervous giggles, but seconds later, they burst through.
âElla!â I attempt to sound stern. âYou must remain calm. Please, go and get yourââ
âAngus,â she cuts in. âIt was me. I took the picture.â
âYou?â I squeak out the word. âWhat? No. You drew the picture, butâ¦â
âShhh.â She reaches out and places her hand on my mouth. Itâs as if she found my Off switch. Or maybe itâs more like she zapped me with a stun gun. I start tingling all over, and I canât speak.
Ella looks over her shoulder into the house and calls, âIâm going out on the porch.â And then she closes the door behind her and points toward a bench. âCan we sit down for a minute?â
I nod. I sit. Ella sits on the opposite end of the bench. She looks down at her shoe toeing the bench leg and then says, âI have a confession to make.â
And does she ever. It turns out her sketchbook was never stolen. She made the whole thing up so that she could spend time with me.
âSeriously?â I ask.
She bites her lower lip and nods. âIâm really sorry. Itâs just that I like you, Angus. And I thought you might like me too. I tried for months to get a chance to talk to you. But every time I saw you, you were going the other way. When I finally did talk to you, that day the school got evacuated? I thought it went well. But then you had to take off andâ¦â She shrugs.
Iâm speechless. All I can do is stare at her.
Ellaâs lower lip quivers in that fascinating way. âI donât know what got into me. But when you said you were a mentalist and you wanted to solve crimes, I got this crazy idea.â She finally looks straight at me. âIâm sorry I lied to you. You probably despise liars.â
I emit a sound. âGack.â
âPardon me?â
I look down at my foot toeing the bench leg. I have an impulse to run away, but Iâve had enough runningâin more ways than one. Itâs time to confess. I start with, âErm.â I progress to, âUh,â and finish in a rush. âIâm a liar too.â
Ella asks, âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean Iâm no mentalist. I canât read people. I donât have a clue what people are thinking. I donât even know what Iâm thinking sometimes.â
Ella is quiet, and I risk a quick glance to see how sheâs taking this. Her head is tilted to one side and, strangely enough, sheâs wearing that little smile. âGo on,â she says.
I find this encouraging. I draw a deep breath and basically barf up my next words. âI lied. I was trying to
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