The Accomplice (Theodore Boone 7)

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Boy Scout Troop 1440 was dismissed by Major Ludwig promptly at five p.m. on Tuesday afternoon, and the boys hustled outside to their bikes. As always, Theodore Boone lingered for a moment to say good-bye to the Major, then he stepped into the cool evening with plans to head downtown to his parents’ law firm.

At the bike rack he saw Woody Lambert, one of his good friends, and noticed once again that he wasn’t smiling. Woody never smiled these days, and that in itself would not have been noticeable except that in place of a smile or a grin or any sign that life was normal or even okay, Woody was going about his business with a sad, sour expression, as if life was beating him up. As if he carried burdens and problems too heavy for a thirteen-year-old boy.

Theo had known him since the fourth grade when the Lamberts moved to Strattenburg. Their home was unstable. His mother was on her second or third husband, and the current one was often away on the job. His real father had disappeared years ago. His older brother Tony had been arrested once and was gaining a bad reputation. Theo suspected that the Lamberts were having serious problems and that was why Woody seemed so unhappy.

Theo said, “Let’s go to Guff’s and get a frozen yogurt. My treat.”

Woody immediately shook his head no, even frowned. “No thanks.”

He never had spare change, and he was too proud to allow Theo or anyone else to treat. Theo had known this for a long time and felt like a jerk for offering to pay.

“You okay?” Theo asked.

“I’m fine,” Woody said as he climbed on his bike. “See ya later.”

“Call me if you need me,” Theo said, and watched him ride away. Woody did not respond.

Home was the last place Woody wanted to go, though he suspected the house would be empty. His mother was working two part-time jobs and on Tuesdays she waited tables at a diner near the college. Her husband, Woody’s stepfather, worked in construction and made good money at times, but the jobs were sporadic. Currently he was out of town, two hours away, and Woody hadn’t seen him in a month. Tony was a sophomore at Strattenburg High but was in the process of dropping out, or flunking out, or getting kicked out for bad grades and low attendance. Tony’s attitude was so lousy he didn’t care how he left the school.

Woody parked his bike under the carport, walked through the unlocked door to the kitchen, yelled for Tony, heard nothing, and was pleased no one was there. He was spending a lot of time alone, and it wasn’t all that bad. He had choices, options. He could play video games, watch television, do his homework, or plug in his electric guitar and practice for an hour or so. Of the four, homework, of course, ranked last. His grades were slipping and his teachers were asking questions, but no one at home seemed to care.

There was rarely anyone at home.

Theo parked his bike outside the rear door of Boone & Boone, the converted old house his parents had owned since long before he was born. He entered through the door, stepped into his own little office, and was immediately met by Judge, his faithful dog who’d been waiting for hours. Judge spent his days at the office doing nothing of any importance except sleeping and begging for food. He moved quietly around the place, napping on one small dog pallet for an hour or so before easing along to another. He had at least four beds, three downstairs and one up, but his favorite was the soft one located under Theo’s desk. Each afternoon, in anticipation of his best friend returning from school, Judge went to Theo’s office and waited.

Theo rubbed his head, chatted with him for a moment, then the two of them went to say hello. Vince, the paralegal, had left for the day and his door was closed. Dorothy, the real estate secretary, was hard at work but stopped for a second to inquire as to how Theo’s day had gone. The door to his mother’s large office was closed, a clear indication that she was meeting with a client. She was a divorce lawyer, most of her clients were women, and when they met behind closed doors things were usually tense. Theo did not even think about knocking.

He had no plans to be a divorce lawyer. At the age of thirteen, he had already decided that he would become either a great courtroom lawyer, the best in the state with big, important trials, or a great judge who presided over those trials and was known for his wisdom and fairness. Most of his friends wer

e dreaming of careers as professional athletes, or computer geniuses, or brain surgeons, or perhaps even a rock star or two, but not Theo. He loved the law and longed for the day when he was a fully grown man with dark suits and a fine leather briefcase. However, according to his parents, he must first finish the eighth grade, then suffer through high school, college, and law school. At least twelve more years of education awaited him, and he was not looking forward to the ordeal. At times he was already tired.

The front room of Boone & Boone was ruled by Elsa Miller, the firm’s long-time receptionist/secretary/paralegal/adviser/referee, and, occasionally in the past, Theo’s babysitter. Elsa did it all, and she did it with an enthusiasm that Theo often found tiresome.

At the sight of him, she bounced up from her desk, grabbed him, hugged him, pinched both cheeks, all the while asking how his day had gone. It was the daily routine and it rarely changed.

“Just another boring day in school,” Theo said as he tried to wiggle out of her embrace.

“You always say that. How was Scouts?”

Elsa knew his schedule better than he did. If he had an appointment with the doctor or dentist, Elsa had it marked on her calendar. A science project due? Elsa reminded him. A scouting trip to the lake? Elsa was on it.

She looked him up and down to make sure his shirt matched his pants, another irksome habit, and said, “Your mother is with a client but your father is free right now.”

His father was always free, and alone. Woods Boone was a real estate lawyer who smoked a pipe, and because of the smoke no one else in the firm ventured upstairs near his office.

“Better hop on your homework,” Elsa said as she retreated to her desk.

Every school day of his life at least three people—his parents and Elsa—reminded him to do his homework. And the irritating part of it was that Theo always did his homework. No one had to remind him. Not once in his student life had he failed to do his homework, yet he was constantly being reminded to get it done.

At times he wanted to snap at them, all three of them, but that would cause more trouble than it was worth. And it wouldn’t help matters. Part of being a good kid was learning to overlook the shortcomings of adults. They liked to repeat things, especially his father, and especially those little commands that were supposed to make Theo a better person. Brush your teeth. Comb your hair. Eat your vegetables. Ride carefully and watch for traffic. Do your homework. The list seemed endless.

So instead of arguing, he said “Yes, ma’am,” and walked to the stairs. Judge was at his heels and they headed up, making as much noise as possible. His father was known to nap in the late afternoon and Theo, being a good kid, did not want to embarrass him by barging in mid-snore.

But Mr. Boone was wide awake and lost in the usual pile of papers on his desk. A thick, rich aroma of pipe smoke hung in the air, which Theo had never found to be unpleasant.

“Well, hello, Theo,” his father said, looking up as if surprised, the same greeting virtually every afternoon.

“Hey, Pop,” Theo said as he fell into a soft leather chair across the desk. “Are you busy?”

“Busy?” Mr. Boone repeated as he waved his arms at the mountain of paperwork, as if he had far too many clients. “Never too busy for you. How was school?”

“Boring as always, but Scouts was fun. We’re headed to the lake in two weeks.”

“I know. The Major invited me to tag along, but not this time.”

They’d had this conversation at least three times already. “Dad, I’m worried about something.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“It’s Woody. He’s acting strange, like he’s worried all the time. His grades are not good, and the teachers are watching him pretty close.”

“Trouble at home, you think?”

“Probably. His big brother Tony is hanging out with some bad kids, skipping school, staying out late, stuff like that, and he has a lot of influence over Woody. Their mom works a couple of part-time jobs and is not home much. His stepfather works out of town and Woody doesn’t like the guy anyway. We’re going camping in two weeks and Woody says he’s not going, says he needs to do some yard work around the house. The truth is that he probably doesn’t have the money to make the trip. He’s always broke these days. I’m really worried about him.”

“Does he have many friends?”

“You know Woody, Dad. He’s a popular guy who gets a lot of respect because he’s the toughest kid in class. If there’s a fight, Woody either starts it or finishes it or breaks it up. Nobody messes with him, and he sort of likes his tough-guy role. It looks like Woody is headed down the wrong road, at least in my opinion. I wish there was some way we could help him.”

“You can be his friend and talk to him, Theo. He’s always liked you. Be a positive influence. Encourage him to study and do his homework. Talk about what it will be like when you guys go off to high school next year. The sports, the girls, the football games, the field trips, all the fun stuff you’ll be involved in.”

“I guess. I don’t suppose there’s anything you and Mom could do.”

“I’ll talk to her and we’ll think about it, but it’s usually a bad idea to get involved with somebody else’s kid. We’ve got our hands full raising you.” He laughed, but Theo wasn’t in the mood for humor.

“Thanks, Dad. I’d better get busy with the homework.”

“Sure, Theo. And I’ll discuss it with your mother.”

Theo and Judge went downstairs to his little office. Judge curled up on his bed and immediately went to sleep, completely unworried about anything. Theo envied him. The life of a dog. Sleeping, eating, occasionally chasing squirrels and rabbits, no troubles at all.

It was after dark when Woody heard the kitchen door slam. He was in the den watching television, bored. Tony bounced in with a big smile and said, “Hey, kid, what’re you doing?”

“Nothing. Where you been?”

“Hanging out. Any word from Mom?”

“No. She works until ten on Tuesdays.”

Tony fell onto the sofa and kicked off his sneakers. “What are you watching?”

“Clint Eastwood. An old western.”

“You watch the weirdest stuff. Have you had dinner?”

“There’s nothing to eat. I’ve already checked.”

“Look, I gotta deliver some pizzas tonight. Why don’t you come with me and we’ll grab one on the run?”

A pizza sounded like a good idea, though they ate a lot of them. Tony worked a few hours a week delivering for a popular pizza joint called Santo’s, and he usually managed to grab a few leftover slices for himself and Woody. Often, he managed to steal an entire supreme.

“All right,” Woody said without moving. Tony bounced off the sofa, went to his room, and returned seconds later wearing his red Santo’s polo and matching red cap. Woody turned off the television and the lights and they left the house.

Tony drove a small Toyota pickup with a million miles on it, a hand-me-down from their stepfather. It wasn’t much of a ride and the girls weren’t too impressed with it, but for the time being it was all they had. Ten minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall, and Tony parked as far away from Santo’s as possible.

“Keep down,” he said as he got out.

“I know, I know,” Woody said as he slid low in the seat. Santo’s had a No-Riders policy and the boss was strict about it. While making deliveries, any driver caught with a passenger would be fired on the spot. Tony disappeared into the restaurant and Woody began the waiting. Peeking out the window, he watched college students spill out of their cars and enter Santo’s. Cute girls, cool guys, nice cars. Woody wondered if he would ever make it to college. He was having doubts, though at the age of thirteen he really wasn’t too concerned about it. In his gang, only Theo and perhaps one or two others had their futures planned. Woody was leaning toward a career as a fireman, and he wasn’t sure if college was necessary.

His phone pinged with a text

from his mother. Have you seen Tony? What are you having for dinner?

Woody responded: We R fine. Pizza. You good?

Okay but may work until 11. Okay with that?

Sure.

Homework done?

Of course.

She asked about his homework only because she was expected to. The truth was Daisy was too tired to monitor her sons’ progress in school. She knew Tony was skipping a lot because the school called her, and they were fighting about it. But Tony was winning because his mother simply didn’t have the energy to keep up with him. Things were not going well with her current husband. She was worrying a lot and losing sleep. Daisy was always tired and frazzled, and Woody was concerned. With her earnings from two part-time jobs, plus what little her husband kicked in, the family was barely staying afloat.

How was Woody supposed to dream of college? It was easy for someone like Theo, with two parents who were lawyers and seemed to be happily married. Plus, Theo was an only child. He had been Woody’s loyal friend for many years, and would always be, but at times Woody secretly admitted to himself that he was envious of Theo.

Tony walked out with the bright red magnetic Santo’s sign and affixed it to the top of the Toyota. “Should be only a few minutes,” he said, and went back inside. Woody said nothing. Ten minutes later, Tony was back with four large pizza boxes, which he placed on the bench seat between them. They smelled delicious and Woody was suddenly starving. When they were on the street, Tony said, “Open the top one and let’s have dinner. Sausage and mushrooms.”

Woody opened the box, handed a slice to Tony, and took one for himself.

They ate in silence as Tony zipped through narrow streets around the college, driving, as always, much too fast. The first stop was a run-down duplex with cars scattered in the front yard. Tony checked the address, parked in the street, and hustled to the front door with a large pizza. He was back in seconds, and grumbling, “Kid gave me a buck. A twelve-dollar pizza and Mr. Big Spender tipped me only a buck. College kids.” They sped away and stopped two blocks over at another student dump. Another one-dollar tip.