Hi sighed. So patient.
"First, we need an alibi for Saturday. On top of that, we have to convince Karsten we made an honest mistake at the gravesite."
"We'll be fine," Shelton said. "The man's not psychic."
"Really?" Hi locked his hands behind his back, pivoted, and loomed over Shelton. "You!" Thundered like a drill sergeant. "Where is the dog tag you found?"
"What?" Shelton yipped. "We . . . lost it."
"Where?"
"In the woods. After we ran."
"Where in the woods? Ran from what?"
"Oh, uh . . . Tory dropped the tag when we ran from . . . whatever."
"From whatever?" Hi hammered. "Did you see men with guns or not?"
"Um, no, I guess not."
"You guess?"
"It was dark." Shelton struggled. "I realize now that nobody was there."
"Then what did you hear?"
"Uh, er . . . pops. Like sticks breaking?" Shelton's responses were growing increasingly feeble.
"How many? From which direction?"
"Lots. Like, from everywhere."
Hi's eyebrows shot up. "You heard 'lots' of 'pops like sticks' coming from everywhere? That's your story?"
"Wait, no, not everywhere. From the . . . left?"
Hi honed in like a Patriot missile. "How many men chased you?"
"Three dudes." Shelton replied without thinking.
Hi pounced. "But I thought you imagined the shooters?"
"Oh, no, I mean, I thought I saw men, but actually . . ." Sweat dampened Shelton's hairline. "Okay! Enough!"
"You!" Hi pointed at Ben. "What'd you find in the pit?"
"Bones," Ben answered.
"How many? Which ones?"
Ben opened his mouth, closed it.
"The bullet hole," Hi said. "Which bone?"
"Skull."
Hi leaned into Ben's face. "But the monkey skull had no bullet hole!"
"Right . . . I thought the skull had a hole but I was wrong."
"You thought? You can't tell if there's a hole in something?"
Ben paused. "Yell in my face again, buddy boy, and I'll put a hole in your skull."
Ignoring him, Hi turned on me.
"Where were you at nine o'clock Saturday morning?"
"What?" I hadn't thought about Saturday. "I was at home. Sleeping."
"Your father can verify that? He was home too, right?"
Oops.
"No, I forgot, I was at the bunk--"
Can't say that either.
"With Ben in his boat," I finished lamely.
"Alone?"
Crap. What the others would say?
"Maybe."
"Maybe!?!" Hi threw his hands skyward.
"We're screwed," Shelton muttered.
"Okay, Hi," I said. "I'm convinced. Lay it out."
"Details are key." Hi gestured for us to gather close. "We lock in the critical ones. Then, if Karsten asks something outside the box, either you don't know, or you make up something the others don't have to corroborate."
He pointed at Shelton. "No one saw anybody in the woods. No lights, no voices, none of that."
"I hear you."
"Let's say we heard exactly two bangs," Hi said. "Like a whip cracking. Got it? 'Whip cracks.'"
"Got it," Shelton said. "Could have been a monkey in the trees. Maybe a branch breaking, who knows?"
"Right! But let them draw conclusions. We just act stupid. And the whip cracks came from 'the other side of clearing.' Nothing more specific than that. Okay?"
Everyone switched to memorization mode. Luckily, we were good at this kind of thing.
"And Tory lost the tag, so she can handle that however she wants. The rest of us say what?"
"I don't know." Shelton and Ben, together.
"Bingo." Hi checked his watch. "We've got about thirty minutes. You guys are lucky I did some research."
For the rest of the crossing we huddled, tweaking the alibi.
Please don't let me foul this up!
CHAPTER 34
"Mr. Stolowitski." Karsten glanced at a clipboard. "You first."
Hi rose and entered the conference room. Inside, three chairs circled a folding table. Karsten sat next to Carl on one side. Hi took the chair opposite them.
Karsten wasted no time. "Where were you Saturday morning?"
Carl leaned on his forearms in an attempt to look menacing. The posture failed.
"Saturday morning? Let me think." Hi glanced at the ceiling. "Oh, right! I went to the canine festival with Shelton, Ben, and Tory. We took Ben's runabout down to the marina and walked to Marion Square."
Hi propped his chin on his fists.
"I remember because it was drizzling, and the dogs were howling like mad. A massive Doberman slipped his leash and tripped Ben. He landed in a huge puddle. It was hilarious! Ben had to buy a new shirt from a stall that only sold animal prints. He was so mad--"
Karsten interrupted. "What time did you get to the park?"
"Hmmm. Must've been around eight thirty that morning. Tory wanted to buy dog pastries from a vendor selling designer animal treats. The guy had run out, but said his partner was bringing white chocolate bars at nine.
"I know what you're thinking. White chocolate. Bad for dogs. But the vendor said only the cocoa is dangerous, and white chocolate doesn't contain any."
Karsten opened his mouth, but Hi was a boulder rolling downhill.
"Anyway, we bought a bunch to give to the rescue dogs. We couldn't adopt one ourselves, but we figured we could at least--"