Weeding Out Trouble by Heather Webber

finding it.
    Of how Kevin nearly went mad with grief.
    And of how, as his friends, Lewy and Joe never wanted to see that happen to him again.
    By the time the pair dropped us off at my house, I practically crawled over Perry to get out of the car.
    As much as I hated to admit it, the guilt was working.
    And when I walked into the house, saw Kevin sitting on the couch looking pale and drawn, bags under his eyes, with Riley next to him, with a goofy grin on his face from something his dad had said, I forgot all about the things I was mad about and forced myself not to rush over and pull them both into hugs. Instead, I did the next best thing.
    I burst into tears.

    My mother rushed in from the kitchen, took one look at me and gathered me in her arms, pushing my head into her ample bosom.
    Sometimes there was nothing like a mother's hug, and thinking so just made me cry all that much harder on Riley's behalf.
    Finally, I pulled away and accepted a handkerchief from Perry, who had followed me inside.
    My mother jabbed a finger in Kevin's direction. "What did you do?"
    "Me?" Shock lifted his eyebrows. "Nothing!"
    My mother cursed in French. I didn't have to know the language to understand what she was saying.
    "It's true," Riley said, jumping to his feet. "She just came in and started with the tears." He looked horrified, and took a step away from me as though my emotional outburst might be contagious.
    "Ach, it wasn't them. Not directly, at least," Brickhouse said, closing the door behind her.
    I hoped Lewy and Joe had gone away. Far, far away.
    "Directly? What does that mean?" Kevin demanded.
    Perry perched on an armchair. "It was those detectives talking about— Ow!" He glared at Brickhouse. "Why'd you do that?"
    "What?" she asked innocently.
    "Kick my shin! I bruise easily, you know."
    "Oh, I must have slipped. Snow on my shoes," she mumbled.
    My mother crossed her arms and aimed her evil eye at the whole group. "What's going on?"
    Perry looked at Brickhouse. Both said, "Nothing."
    "What was that comment about the detectives?" Kevin asked. By the look in his eye, he wasn't giving up until he got some answers.
    I didn't want to stick around for that conversation. There's only so much I could take in a day. Honest. It had nothing to do with Kevin finding out I'd snuck off again, taking Larry and Moe with me. "I'm going to take a bath."
    My mother looked at me, concern drawing down the corners of her eyes.
    "I'm okay," I said. "I'm just worried about Kit."
    "Yeah, Kit," Perry said, nodding.
    Brickhouse clucked.
    Suspicion crept into my mother's eyes. I took the stairs two at a time, getting away before being subjected to the Grand Inquisition.
    At the top, I paused on the landing and listened, wincing as the questions began. Brickhouse had tremendous fortitude, but it wouldn't be long before Perry caved.
    Rubbing my gritty eyes, I headed for my room until I saw Riley's door open wide.
    I cocked an ear toward the stairs. Brickhouse was explaining about walking BeBe, visiting Miss Maisie.
    I didn't have long.
    Creeping into Riley's room, I took a cursory glance around. It was a disaster area. Clothes everywhere, bed a mess, school papers tossed on his desk. I picked one up. It was from September. He rarely threw anything away without a lecture from me first, and I could only stomach those twice a year or so.
    The drawers of his desk were stuffed with knickknacks from when he was little, from trips to Kings Island, from old stocking stuffers. I didn't find anything suspicious.
    I checked under his mattress and found an old Victoria's Secret catalog underneath. Rolling my eyes, I shoved it back in.
    Under the bed, stray socks, old binders, and boxes to his video games lived a happy, content life. I shook some of the boxes, but they were empty.
    I didn't have time to check his closet, and I wasn't going near Xena's cage.
    Letting out a puff of frustration, I put my hands on my hips. My instincts told me he was up to something. I had