CHAPTER ONE
Unexpected Teammate
Rushing down the driveway of 42 Larson Way, I smiled as angry shouts came from the house itself. "A job well done," I said to myself. I wasn't prepared for what happened next, though. Glancing behind me, I saw someone storm out of the house with a gun. Frantically, I turned the corner and hopped on my bike, pedaling as fast as I could. I took the first bike trail there was and then rode casually. I looked behind me and saw the car from 42 Larson Way going a little over the speed limit on the road behind me. I sighed with relief and headed home.
"I just wanted to help!" I shouted defensively.
"I told you to stay OUT of our work!" yelled my dad, Michael. Just then Fiona, my mom, and Sam, my uncle, walked in.
"Claire Madeline Westen, where HAVE you been?" Fiona scolded after getting over her shock that I was here, at the loft.
"We were driving all over Miami looking for you!" Sam exclaimed, looking relieved. Had they been worried about me? They were looking for me? How long had I been gone? I glanced down at my watch. 4:06! I finished school almost 2 hours ago!
"Claire, where were you?" cried my mom, coming up to me. My dad answered before I did.
"She was snooping around Taylor Parker's house," Michael said, looking disapprovingly at me.
"The conman that cheated our client, Stacy?" Fiona asked, horrified.
"Yup," he answered.
Just then, Michael's phone rang, so I grabbed his yogurt and went to talk to Sam. The stolen yogurt didn't exactly improve the angry mood my dad was in, but I spooned happily away at the blueberry yogurt anyway.
"So what exactly did you do, Claire?" Sam inquired.
"I put a virus in the e-mail from his manager, so when he opened it, the virus started clearing out all their dealings together and making it look like his manager wanted him dead."
"Whoa," Sam narrowed his eyes suspicously. "Where did you get that insanely perfect idea from?"
"Well, from you guys, mostly. I heard you say that you were trying to get Taylor to think his boss wanted to kill him. The rest I planned myself," I replied.
"From us?! You were at Fiona's and we were at the loft when Mike and I talked about it! And we told Fi while you were in school!" Sam cried out.
"I know. I planted a bug in the loft. It's behind the fridge. I was listening to it at Mom's house."
"You what?!" Sam said. He went over to the fridge and started to move it.
"Sam, what are you doing?" Fiona said.
"Usually beers are in the fridge, not behind it," Michael said, looking at him strangely over a yogurt. Sam stared with a puzzled look at the empty wall.
"Uh . . . right," he said, pushing the fridge back and walking over to me.
"I moved it," I confessed to him, biting my lip to stop from laughing.
"Moved what?" Michael asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
"A listening device," Sam growled.
"A what?! Behind the fridge?!" my dad yelled, glaring furiously in my direction.
"Yes," I whispered meekly.
"Claire!" my mom gasped, "To your room!"
"I just wanted to help Stacy! She has a daughter, Kayla, in my grade, you know! She's 9, a year or 2 younger than me and everyone else in 5th grade! Plus, she's almost at the top of the class! She's really smart and deserves a good education! But that nasty conman Taylor ruined her chance!" And with that I stormed off to my "room."
My so-called room was a couch (which I slept on), a beanbag chair, a desk, and a lamp, all surrounded by curtains. I tied the curtains closed, threw myself down on the couch, and sighed before getting to work. Eleven years of being the child of an ex-super spy and an explosives expert helped me come up with the next part of my plan.