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consequences of that choice.”
    I didn’t say anything, mostly because I felt like an idiot. He was right. It was a losing argument to try to paint Nikki as an innocent pawn.
    â€œNow then,” Vinny said, “here’s the rest of your money.” He handed me a twenty.
    â€œThis is ten too many,” I said.
    Vinny chuckled. “Always honest … The extra ten is a retainer. I want to keep you in my employ, to find out who took down Nikki.”
    â€œYou don’t need me for that. With your network, you could have that kid in the Outs in twenty minutes … twenty-five tops.”
    â€œYou overestimate my reach, Matthew.”
    â€œI don’t think I do. In fact, I may have underestimated it. You could probably find him in fifteen.”
    â€œAre you trying to talk yourself out of a job? I
could
find out who did it on my own, but again—”
    â€œDon’t give me that garbage about owing me, because I’m still not buying it from the first go around,” I said.
    â€œListen, Matthew, just take the money. Find out who did this and I’ll give you another twenty. That’s thirty dollars to do a job that I can tell you’re itching to do anyway.”
    â€œNicole’s sister already hired me.”
    â€œThis is a free-market society. I’m outbidding her. Tell her she’ll get the same results, but she won’t have to shell out a dime. Not a bad deal. Or tell her nothing and collect twice on the same job. I don’t care. Just find out who pulled the trigger.” He turned to leave, then turned back and handed me the surfer girl. “Here,” he said, “you need this more than I do.”
    I pointed to Brian. “Not if
he’s
your bodyguard.”
    â€œHe’s not. Anymore.”
    Brian winced, then shot me a look that could have peeled paint. After a moment, he wandered off, the weight of his failure bowing his shoulders. He gave a final, wounded look back at Vinny as he rounded a corner out of sight.
    â€œYou’re going to walk through the halls without a bodyguard?” I asked.
    â€œYour concern for my well-being is touching, Matthew. But don’t worry … I think I’ll be all right.” He turned and walked off. When he was fifteen feet from me, three kids seemed to materialize out of thin air, forming a protective half-circle around him. One of the kids turned back and blew me a kiss; I doubted she was looking for a date.

left school with a lot on my mind, but not much in my stomach. It was already four o’clock. I hopped on my bike and rode home, reviewing the events of the day. They rolled around my brain like billiard balls on a table with no pockets; nothing was sinking in.
    Nikki Fingers had once been the most feared trigger girl in school, and now she was in the Outs. The number of suspects could fill a New York City phone book. I was having a harder time thinking of kids that didn’t have a motive. The question was: Who had the motive
and
theguts? That was a much shorter list. Then again, a kid gets some sugar-induced courage—a couple of sodas, a couple of candy bars—there’s no telling what he or she will do.
    Take a case I worked on last year. Some kid from the yearbook staff hired me to track down his camera. He had put it in his locker and gone to lunch, and had come back to find it missing. Nothing else was out of place. In fact, his locker door was still locked. The only thing gone was his camera. Turns out, kids from the yearbook staff had had cameras taken from their lockers all year, all with the same M.O.: Kids would go to their lockers after lunch, unlock them as they always did, and nothing would be out of place, except the cameras that were in there before lunch were now gone. The hall monitors didn’t have any leads, so they were keeping the story hush-hush.
    Instead of attempting to solve the case through the front door, I decided to try a back way. I