“Until I taunted him, apparently. I can’t risk it. I have a winning record to maintain. Heath Hall will not ruin that.”

Seven

Dylan Sutter was next on my list. And as I left the science building and headed through the outdoor halls toward the pool, I saw him wrestling with a book at his locker. I stepped up beside him into the shade structure that covered the rows of lockers. “Dylan.”

His book fell to the ground with a slap. He started to retrieve it when he met my eyes with a stunned expression before dropping his gaze to my shoulder.

“I noticed that you follow Heath Hall online. I know he’s not the actual actor who plays him,” I added before he had the chance to inform me of that.

“Yeah.” He went back to trying to fit his book in his too-full locker.

“So who is he?”

“You don’t know?”

Obviously, I wanted to say but instead just said, “No.”

He shook his head back and forth several times, then slammed his locker, his hand barely making it out. He pushed on the door once more as though he thought the books inside were about to shove it back open. Satisfied, he straightened up, then glared at my shoulder. “Can’t tell if you don’t know.”

Holy crap, how did this guy get all these people to keep their mouths shut? This was turning out to be way more work than I had anticipated. “Dylan. Look. I won’t tell anyone. I just need to talk to him.”

“You can’t just talk to him. Well, I mean you can but you can’t.”

What? “What is he, the Godfather? Come on.”

Dylan adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and stumbled a little under the weight of it. “Can’t tell you if you don’t know,” he said again, then nodded his head at the ground and left.

I smacked Dylan’s locker as if it was the one that had refused to spill its secrets and I turned to leave, walking straight into Jackson. “Moore, I should’ve known it was you.”

I took a step back. “What?”

“What did you say to Dylan?”

“What?” Why did I keep saying that?

“Dylan.” He pointed behind him, where I watched Dylan glance over his shoulder once, see us looking, then nearly trip over his own feet before righting himself and continuing forward.

“I said nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“Are you spying on me?” I asked.

“I was walking down the hall. So yes, I guess that means I was spying. I thought maybe I could learn your secret swimming powers for the next time someone strands me on an island in the middle of a lake.”

“Strands you? That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? If you weren’t a strong swimmer, you shouldn’t have swum out there.”

“I’m a strong swimmer. I did beat you, after all.”

I started to protest, to tell him he only beat me because he cheated, but I stopped myself. That’s what he wanted me to do.

He bent down and picked up something off the ground by my foot. When he stood, I noticed it was my earbuds. I held out my hand for them. “Oh, thanks.”

He just tucked them into his pocket. “I better go turn these in to Lost and Found.”

“They’re mine.” I kept my palm outstretched.

“They were just sitting on the cement. They could be anyone’s.”

I sighed. “Jackson. They’re mine.”

He took them out of his pocket and held them over my hand. When I reached for them, he tugged them just out of my grasp. He laughed and did the exact same thing again. “You just have to grab them.”

“Why are you such a child?” Even his hair seemed to laugh at life. It was a curly mop on top of his head that he didn’t feel the need to tame.

“Why are you always so serious?” He dropped them onto my hand.

I wasn’t serious all the time. I had fun around the right people. Just not people who thought life was a big joke.

As if reading my mind, the smile on Jackson’s face disappeared. “Hey,” he said in a tone as sincere as his new expression. “I’m sorry if I offended you the other day. I didn’t think my joke out in the lake would scare you.”

“I . . .” wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. I was sure he was seconds away from laughing and saying, Just kidding.

“You . . . ?” he prompted.

“Yeah. No big deal. It didn’t really scare me.”

“I think what you meant to say was, ‘Jack, not only did you not scare me, I thought it was hilarious. You’re the funniest person I know.’”

A breeze filled with salty ocean air blew a piece of my hair across my face. I pushed it out of the way. “Why is it so important that I find you funny? The rest of the school feeds your ego enough.”

“You’re the last holdout.”

“I’m positive I’m not the last.”

“Really? Have you started a club?”

I smiled a little. “Maybe I should. The Jack-haters club.”

“I’d totally join that club.”

I shook my head. “I bet you would.”

He gave my arm a playful punch. “See you around.”

At home I opened my computer, ready to look for more clues. Surely Heath Hall had to have said something to give himself away at some point. Right away I zeroed in on his latest post. Heath Hall: I’ll be at the museum on Tenth Street this Thursday sometime between the hours of 7 and 10.

He’d given another location.

I pulled out my cell and dialed Amelia’s number.

She answered the phone with the words, “I saw. That’s Abby’s museum. They have a show this week. Do you think he’s trying to ruin it?”

“I don’t know if he’s trying to, but that always seems to be the end result. So are we going?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“Ms. Lin would be so proud,” I said. Ms. Lin was the art teacher at school. I had never taken art, but she was my mentor teacher and was constantly trying to get me to change this fact.

“I know. That’s why we shouldn’t tell her. She’ll think we’ve decided to become artists after all.”

“She thinks everyone’s an artist waiting to find themselves,” I said.

“So do you think I should warn Abby?” Amelia said. “Or my brother?”

“Yes, you should let them know there might be a disruption at the museum.” If someone had warned me, it might not have affected me so much.

“You know, Heath Hall busted that museum heist and saved the priceless painting in movie number three.”

“Um . . . so? You know this guy isn’t really Heath Hall. As we’ve been told a million times.”

“Maybe it’s a clue, though. Maybe he plans where to go based on the plots of the movies.”

“Has there been a movie that involved swimming?” I asked, searching my memory for that answer.

“He’s constantly swimming. Usually scuba diving to break into some fancy building,” Amelia said.

“But what does that have to do with the school pool?”

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll figure it out Thursday at seven. You and me at the museum.”