Page 80 of Don't Cross Mo Ellery

Death threat at a funeral.

Cops after me.

Neighbor murdered in cold blood.

Cutthroat political corruption.

And now this guy thinksIcan save him?

Nope nope nope.I amout.Out of this mess. Out of Chicago. Out of the country? I’ve got those three years of high school Latin, maybe I can hide out in... the Vatican?

“Take the dogs,” I offer. “For protection.”

Maybe a two birds situation?

But he ignores the offer and turns to Marlowe. “How about you, Nancy Drew? You’re weirdly young looking, but you obviously have the investigative skills. Please, you gotta help me!” He lunges for her, and oh my god,absolutelythe fuck not—I jump between them as the dogs leap up and flank me.

“Tond, she is notweirdly young looking, she is achild,” I say firmly.

“Oops.” He glances past me at Marlowe. “On the other hand, that’s a good cover—”

I growl and Jean growls along with me.

Tond steps back.

“I swear to god,” I say in my most terrifying voice. “This dog is always hungry, and he isnotpicky.”

“It’s just you two are clearly the only ones I can trust,” Tond says as he backs off and sniffles pathetically. “Come on, secret girlfriend.”

Oh. Right.

“I have a confession,” I say.

“You’rethe murderer?” Tond asks, horrified.

“No,” I say. “I wasn’t Cran’s secret girlfriend. I’m a crossing guard, and he was kind of a jerk to me.”

“I knew it! Cran exclusively dates models. Usually from Slovakia.” Tond leans in and whispers, “Never lets me meet them. On account of I’ve got too much game. Check out these abs.”

He fumbles with his clothes, and Marlowe and I quickly look away, at literallyanythingelse, as though Cran’s decor has recently gotten very interesting.

And it turns out I actuallyaminterested. In all the chaos, I missed the fact that the walls are, I mean,coveredwith ribbons and trophies and huge, blown-up glossy framed photos of the dogs at competitions. In some pictures they’re leaping over tiny fences; in others they sit proudly next to Cran.

“Wait,” I say. “The dogs areshowdogs? That’s why they can do all those tricks?”

“See?” Tond says, blessedly forgetting his abs. “You totally just detected that. You’re great at figuring stuff out.”

And you know what? I am. Because I spot mop-dog Charlie in one of the pictures, and a laugh bursts out of me as I realize that Tasha actuallymeantit when she said Charlie won awards for being a good boy. And thinking of Tasha just makes me more determined to get out of this mess. I want to be the kind of person Tasha couldfall for, and I don’t think that person is mixed up with cooking sherry–guzzling lunatics.

“Tond, listen,” I say. “This has gotten way out of hand. Marlowe is in seventh grade; she needs to pass math. I am acrossing guard; I help kids like Marlowe cross the street. We suck at this. We’ve already gotten an innocent person arrested. Speaking of which, we need to go deal with that.” I nod at Marlowe, who hustles toward the exit.

“Please??” he begs, slipping past Marlowe to plaster himself against the front door. “Stop me from being next?”

“Tond,” I say, trying to wedge my arm between him and the knob. “We all need to forget about this. We need to walk away.”

“I’m in too deep! I can’t walk away!”

“And we can’t help you with that. Marlowe, get the dogs.”