3 The Spy Who Totally Had a Crush on Me Page 3

  “ Shut up Rinteau,” Booker said. “ I can gut you just as easy.” He brandished the switchblade. I don’ t really know what brandish means exactly except that when it applies to people waving switchblades around in my general vicinity I do know I really don’ t care for it.

  “ Uh, no you couldn’ t and besides the mall’ s neutral. You start working it and Juarez or the Raiders are going to hear about it. That’ s trouble you don’ t want.”

  “ You ain’ t a Bully no more, Rinteau, you don’ t say nothin!’ ” Booker said. But I noticed that he closed the blade and put the knife back in his pocket. Clearly he didn’ t like this Rinteau person being around. It made him nervous. But he recovered quickly. He took a step back sneering at Alex. He made like he was leaving, acting as if we weren’ t even worth worrying about. His gang parted to let him pass through.

  So far what I’ d been able to discern is A) this Booker individual and this Rinteau person knew each other and B) it sounded like they were once part of a gang or something. I don’ t think it was a Boy Scout troop or church choir they were talking about. My keen deductive skills also informed me they didn’ t like each other.

  “ You aren’ t leaving with that money,” Alex said. Booker stopped, turning around to face us again.

  “ Let it go man. It isn’ t worth the few bucks. If you try to get it back you’ re going to have to fight him for it,” Rinteau said.

  “ Whatever.” Alex said. “ He’ s not leaving with that money.”

  Booker just stood there staring. No one said anything. It seemed to me like time had stopped; as if we’ d been standing in that hallway for hours. I knew it’ d only been a couple of minutes. Somebody must have seen all the commotion out in the mall and noticed we had run down this corridor, why hadn’ t someone called the cops or the security guards? Or the Army? Can you actually call the Army? I mean not to join, but to come somewhere and beat someone up for you? I needed to check into that.

  Then it happened. With no warning, Booker took a run at Alex and sent a long looping punch toward his head with his non-knife hand. Alex blocked it easily at Booker’ s wrist. He quickly grabbed his arm and twisted it so the elbow was facing up and the force of the move sent Booker to his knees. I could hear the sickening pop of his elbow dislocating and Booker screamed. The scream died in his throat as Alex kicked him hard in the stomach and he lost his breath with a whoosh of air. It quickly took the fight out of him, but not his gang. The young kid who’ d stolen the purse and a few of the younger ones turned and ran, but it still left seven of them and five of us. Not good odds.

  Two of the guys from Booker’ s gang launched themselves at Alex with a roar. They both hit him high in the chest and he went down underneath them. Brent jumped in and pulled one off of Alex and put the guy down with a palm strike. But two more waded in and Brent took a hard shot to the side of his head. Pilar yelled and jumped on one the gang guys’ back and after that I couldn’ t keep track because it just turned into a big dog pile, with people yelling and shouting and grunting and flopping around on the ground like a tuna on the deck of a fishing boat.

  One of the gang guys came running toward me yelling really impolite things concerning both my personality and sexual orientation. I crouched and readied to throw him across my hip, but I never got a chance because this Rinteau guy flew out of my peripheral vision and hit the kid hard in the chest with a flying tackle. They both went down, but Rinteau sprang to his feet quickly, grabbing another gang guy off the pile and spun him hard to the ground. Booker was screaming ‘ my arm, my arm’ underneath the pile of bodies. Rinteau pushed through the pile until he reached Booker and with one hand jerked him to his feet, twisting the bad arm behind his back. Bodies were flying everywhere and Brent and Pilar were shouting and Alex was somewhere under the pile getting pummeled.

  Rinteau twisted Booker’ s arm and he screamed. “ Call ‘ em off,” Rinteau hissed at Booker.

  “ Owww. Owwww. Okay, stop, stop!” Booker screamed. Alex was still rolling on the ground with two of the guys that were not stopping. He managed to flip one guy off him and Rinteau twisted Booker’ s arm again. “ Stop!” Booker screamed.

  They stopped.

  Everyone stood there panting and grunting. Brent was going to have a black eye and Alex’ s nose was bleeding. With his free hand Rinteau reached around to Booker’ s front pocket and pulled the cash from his pocket. He let go of Booker’ s arm and pushed him away.

  “ Get out of here,” he said.

  “ I’ m going to kill you, Rinteau. I swear. You’ re a dead man,” Booker said, his mangled arm hanging limply at his side.

  “ Yeah, whatever, you’ ve been saying that for years, get out. Now,” Rinteau said.

  Booker made a very unkind remark about Rinteau’ s mother and left, walking away down the corridor with his gang following close behind.

  “ You okay?” he said to Alex. Alex nodded rubbing his neck, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket that he pressed to his nose.

  Rinteau picked up the purse still lying on the ground and dropped the cash back into it.

  “ Everybody all right?” he said. We all nodded.

  “ You just got to meet Booker. He’ s a bad dude. Best if you don’ t come back here again. Try the Mall in Franklin or Portersville. He doesn’ t ever go there. He won’ t be so co-operative if he sees you here again. And he won’ t forget. Nice meeting you all,” he said.

  He headed back down the corridor toward the mall.

  “ Where are you going?” Alex said.

  “ To find that lady and give her purse back,” he said.

  “ I’ ll go with you,” Alex said. And the thing about Alex is, he doesn’ t always say things in the friendliest way. He made it sound like a challenge.

  Rinteau stopped, staring at Alex. It was a hard look. Like he was sizing him up.

  “ Don’ t trust me?” he said.

  “ Well, I just met you. And I thank you for helping us out with those punks. But no, I don’ t trust you.” Alex said. Great. Let’ s get it all right out there in the open, shall we?

  “ Alex, don’ t be rude,” I said. Alex shot me a look and Rinteau switched his gaze to me and got that slightly bemused expression on his face. It was a really, really good look for him.

  “ What Alex means to say is thanks and we appreciate your help. My name’ s Rachel Buchanan. This is Pilar Jordan, Brent Christian and Alex Scott.”

  He kept studying me for a minute, and then said, “ name’ s Michael Rinteau.”

  “ If you don’ t mind my asking, where did you come from?” I said.

  “ The Gap,” he said.

  “ I mean how did you know we were back here and there was trouble?” I asked.

  “ You ask a lot of questions,” he said.

  “ You don’ t answer many,” Alex said. Somehow, despite his really saving our bacon, Alex had taken an instant dislike to the guy. Boys. The instant clash of the alpha males. It was like standing in the middle of a nature documentary on the National Geographic Channel. I could almost hear that music in the background.

  “ I was shopping. Saw the kid with the purse run by and recognized him. He’ s a Fourth Street Bully. Where there’ s a Bully, there’ s always trouble. I saw all of you white bread suburban geeks go running after him. Knew you’ d be in over your head,” he said.

  “ And you knew he was a ‘ Bully’ how exactly?” Alex said.

  “ Because I used to be one,” he said. Um. He was a gang person. Oh.

  “ Used to be?” Alex said.

  Rinteau looked at Alex and didn’ t say anything. Then walked over to him and got real close to Alex’ s face. “ Did I stutter?” he said.

  They stood there like they were ready to go at it, until I stepped in between them.

  “ Boys! Boys!” I said. “ Please let’ s not quarrel.”

  “ No quarrel from me,” Rinteau said. “ It’ s your boyfriend here that’ s got the problem.”

  “ Oh, I assure you
Alex is not my boyfriend; he’ s just a big fan of law and order. I mean law and order in the philosophical sense, not the TV show. You know, truth and justice and all that? Alex, just relax some okay.”

  “ I am relaxed,” Alex said. “ I’ m also making sure that lady gets her money back. We don’ t know this guy, maybe he was part of it. Maybe he walks out of here thinking he’ s keeping the money. Putting one over on us. So he wants to give the lady her money back, fine, but I’ m going with him.”

  Rinteau looked at Alex again, and then nodded. “ Fair enough. You come along. We’ ll see she gets it back.”

  But we never got the chance because right then, the cops finally showed up. And they arrested all of us.

  CHAPTER FOUR— Déjà vu all over again

  For the second time in less than four months I was being held in a Police Station. I sat there wondering what my parents, Charles and Cynthia, would think if they could see me now. Probably they figured I hadn’ t changed much. If I knew them. Which I did.

  We’ d try to explain everything to the cops. We hadn’ t stolen the purse, and were on our way back to return it to the lady. But they weren’ t having any. We were loaded into squad cars and taken to a nearby station. When we got there and got our phone call, we called Mr. Kim and were waiting for him to show up. He hadn’ t arrived yet, but in the meantime they’ d brought the woman in from the mall and she explained that Alex and Brent weren’ t the ones that stole her purse. But the cops said that that didn’ t let us off the hook, because the lady hadn’ t seen Pilar and me and for all they knew it could have been us that took it. Some kind of scam they said. The lady tried to explain that it was a young boy that knocked her down and grabbed her bag, but the police just kept telling her that they would get it “ all sorted out, soon enough.”

  And there was a real problem with Michael Rinteau. It turned out he was very familiar with the cops. He had a record in fact and been in a lot of scrapes. And that made it real difficult for them to believe us. I mean they caught us with the purse. Well him with the purse technically, but still that kind of just made the whole thing worse. Pilar and I tried to explain it to the policeman who interviewed us, and he finally decided it was no use. We just told him to wait until Mr. Kim got there. He wasn’ t happy but he put us in the lobby of the station to wait. I don’ t know where they had Michael Rinteau. He must have been in an interview room, probably being worked over with a rubber hose. I hope they didn’ t damage his face. Or those teeth. That would be a tragedy.

  Mr. Kim came walking into the station with some other guy who was tall, with gray hair and glasses. He was wearing a sweat suit and looked like he’ d come from the gym or something. For some reason, when the guy entered the station with Mr. Kim, all the cops starting acting real nervous and busy, picking up the phones on their desks and straightening papers, like they hoped the guy wouldn’ t notice them.

  Mr. Kim spotted us and came over to check us out while the guy in the sweat suit started a conversation with one of the cops who had interviewed us, and the poor guy looked very uncomfortable.

  “ Are all of you all right?” Mr. Kim asked. He had a very worried look on his face. It always made me feel good he was so concerned about us.

  “ A few bumps and bruises,” I said, “ but otherwise okay.”

  We filled him in on what happened. After hearing our story, he told us not to worry.

  “ But there’ s more Mr. Kim, the police are holding this kid who helped us. I mean it sounds like he was in some scrapes before, but this time he didn’ t do anything. If it wasn’ t for him, we’ d have been in a real mess. We need to help him,” I said. I tried telling myself I was only interested in the truth. I was correcting an injustice and just had a soft spot in my heart for people who had been in trouble or were unjustly accused by the police, like myself. I wasn’ t sticking my nose in because the guy was devastatingly cute. Yep, that’ s it, Rachel Buchanan, crusader for social justice. That’ s my agenda I told myself. Several times. Cute guy has nothing to do with it. Nothing.

  Mr. Kim nodded and strode over to the guy in the sweat suit. They stepped away from the cop and Mr. Kim spoke to him very quietly. I couldn’ t hear what they were saying, which wasn’ t going to work, so I non-chalantly walked up behind them. I needed to brush up on my eavesdropping skills anyway. In a moment the Mr. Sweat suit (again putting my nick naming skills to use) returned his attention to the cop. I crept closer.

  The cop was telling Mr. Sweat suit the ‘ Rinteau kid’ was in a lot of trouble before, and how his story didn’ t hold up. The guy in the sweat suit said it didn’ t matter anymore because Mr. Kim was going to personally vouch for him and the ‘ Rinteau kid’ was to be released immediately into Mr. Kim’ s custody.

  The cop got really uncomfortable, kind of sweaty and twitchy and informed Mr. Sweat suit the Rinteau kid had already been booked and was on his way to ‘ Central Processing’ where he was due to be arraigned that afternoon. He would probably be “ bound over” for a hearing with the Juvenile Judge on Monday. And he was really sorry Chief. They could release him to Mr. Kim’ s custody, but he’ d still have to make his court appearance.

  Did he just say ‘ Chief?’

  The ‘ Chief’ got kind of frustrated, with a few comments about how he hoped the cop would enjoy his time ‘ directing traffic from now on,’ then told Mr. Kim the best he could do would be to call the judge before the arraignment. Mr. Kim looked disappointed, but nodded.

  I heard Mr. Kim thank the ‘ Chief’ (only he called him Darrell) and Darrell said he needed to get back to his racquetball game with the Mayor. Mr. Kim shook hands with the Chief thanking him for coming out to the station to help. The ‘ Chief’ said, “ no problem Sa Bum Nim, you always know I’ m at your disposal.” He bowed slightly as he said it. The Philly police chief was a former student? Wow. That Mr. Kim! He knows everyone.

  So we waited in the station while the Chief called the judge. He finally got through and explained to him what happened. He finally returned to where we sat waiting and told us the judge would agree to release Rinteau to Mr. Kim temporarily. All we needed to do was pick him up at the jailhouse.

  And that’ s how it went down. That’ s was the start of how Michael Rinteau became a student at Blackthorn Academy. CHAPTER FIVE— Boys! Boys! You’ re both handsome!

  At the courthouse, Mr. Kim and the four of us were taken back to the holding area where Michael Rinteau was sitting on a bench with his back against the wall at the rear of his cell. He was alone, his hands cuffed in front of him, but sat there with an almost serene expression on his face and a very relaxed posture. He had a look like being in jail was no big deal and it was something he was quite familiar with. Which, according to the police it was.

  He looked up when we approached his cell and he smiled at me. I’ m pretty sure it was me he was smiling at. It was in my general direction and it was a very dreamy kind of smile and he certainly wasn’ t doing the dreamy smiley thing at Alex. When he saw Mr. Kim with us his, expression changed and became a little guarded.

  “ Remember us?” I said.

  “ How could I forget?” he said. Already he was telling me that he couldn’ t get me off his mind! This was working out really well for me.

  “ This is Mr. Kim, he’ s the headmaster at our school, Blackthorn Academy,” I said.

  Michael nodded at Mr. Kim.

  “ Anyway, Mr. Kim spoke to the Chief of Police and he spoke to the judge and everything is all cleared up, so you don’ t have to stay here.”

  “ Is that right?” he said.

  “ Yeah, Mr. Kim is like totally connected to everyone and he got it all straightened out, right Mr. Kim?”

  Mr. Kim smiled and nodded. The bailiff who accompanied us back to the holding area opened the cell door and unlocked his handcuffs. The bailiff left, but Rinteau stayed sitting on the bench.

  “ I wish to thank you for helping out my students,” Mr. Kim said to him. “ Rachel tells me that you are very br
ave.”

  “ Does she now?” he said. He looked at me and got that smirky bemused thing going. I was totally hoping he wasn’ t noticing how red I was turning and he certainly couldn’ t have noticed my knees were getting all squishy. It sure is warm in these jails!

  “ Yes, I understand you were quite helpful and I appreciate it. And Rachel is correct. You will have no record of this incident and have been released to my custody. Is there somewhere I can take you? May I call your parents or drive you to your home?” Mr. Kim said.

  “ If it’ s all the same to you, I’ ll just head back to the Galleria, my shopping was interrupted,” he said.

  Mr. Kim bowed slightly and smiled at Rinteau. “ With respect, I’ m not sure returning there is a good idea. I believe you indicated to my students this ‘ Booker’ and his gang frequent the mall. Might not they show up there looking for revenge?” Mr. Kim asked.

  “ Yeah. Why would you want to go back there, where they might be waiting for you? Especially after you warned us not to go there?” Alex chimed in.

  Rinteau looked at Alex and smiled. He walked toward the cell door.

  “ The Galleria is where I hang out. I said you should stay away, I didn’ t say anything about myself. I can handle Booker; you obviously can’ t, so that’ s why you don’ t want to go back there. The next time I might not be there to bail you out,” he said. He put a lot of emphasis on his you’ s.

  Okay. Here’ s an important Alex safety tip. Never, ever tell him that he can’ t do something, especially not when it comes to physical macho type stuff like taking on a crazed, knife wielding gang leader. It will get you off his Christmas card list quicker than anything. Rinteau might as well have spit in his oatmeal. Alex was getting the coiled spring thing going again.

  “ Or maybe you just want to go back there to hook up with your gang buddies and see if you can pull some other scam. That lady is lucky we were there or you would have stolen her money for sure… ” Alex didn’ t get a chance to finish what he was saying because Rinteau had sprung the remaining few feet from the door right toward Alex. Unfortunately for him, he didn’ t know that Mr. Kim is a world class martial artist. Before Alex could get his fists up, Mr. Kim had caught Rinteau mid-leap with one arm and put his other hand on Alex’ s chest.