Robot Revenge Read online

  “Thanks.” Cam lowered his eyes. “Just so you know, Mom’s not home. She’s at the store grabbing Martinelli’s.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Gratz on your big award! A scholarship and everything.” He tried to give Cam a high five, but the boy didn’t respond.

  Winston and Marcy marched into the house, still filled with science experiments and schoolwork. Winston dragged Blueberry into the living room, where the cat rolled into his signature ball. “Like animals?” he asked Cam. “Want to pet him?”

  “Nah. I don’t do live things.” The teen looked at Blueberry as though the cat might unleash some Pokémon power from his curled position. “But my mom might. Could make her less stressed about college apps.”

  Marcy shook her head. “Yeah, I remember all those crazy deadlines.”

  Winston had only ever applied to his local community college, and that was one application too many for him. “She helping you with the forms?”

  “Kind of. Looks them over. Tells me to put down the right extracurriculars, dictates my essays,” Cam said. “She even Googles my name to make sure I look good online. Says admissions might run a Web search on applicants.”

  Winston looked over at Marcy and raised his eyebrows. What would prospective colleges say if they saw Cam’s mom dancing like a stripper?

  Marcy stared with longing at the couch, which Winston noted was still overtaken by a chemistry kit. Sighing, his sister sat down on a nearby rug and rubbed her feet. She told Cam, “Don’t worry. You made that great robot. You’re a shoo-in.”

  Cam fiddled with his glasses. “Well, Mr. Bill and I did it together. He even pulled an all-nighter to create the final version.”

  “Bill was a genius,” Winston said.

  Cam started picking one of his pimples, and Winston hoped the boy wouldn’t pop it in his nervousness. “He could have made even cooler stuff if . . .”

  Winston looked Cam in the eyes (in fact, he and the teen were about the same height) and said, “I miss Bill, too.”

  Cam sniffled a little but didn’t say anything more.

  “Did you happen to, uh, see him fall?” Winston asked.

  “No, I was organizing my rock collection.” The boy seemed totally serious. “But I remember Mom running into my room, saying something bad had happened. Then she thrust the robot into my arms.”

  He took a wavering breath and continued, “I heard the sirens, the ambulance, but I didn’t want to look. I distracted myself by fixing Adom.”

  “Was the robot broken?”

  “Minor problem. Needed a new tread to move around. The old one got gunked up with mud and grass.”

  Winston had heard the boy mention tread before in this very same house. For the robot. To move.

  The tracks, Winston thought. Flattened grass near where Bill had fallen. The robot had been at the crime scene.

  “Can I look at Adom?” Winston asked.

  “Sure.” A genuine smile popped up on Cam’s face.

  Cam brought the little robot over and placed it at Winston’s feet. Just when Winston was about to scoop Adom up, the door opened and in walked Diana.

  She stared at them in her living room, and the bag of groceries slipped from her hands. Something shattered. Glaring at Winston and Marcy, she asked, “What are you doing in my home?”

  CHAPTER 32

  DIANA STOOD LOOKING at them with her hands on her hips. She didn’t glance down at the groceries on the floor, not even once. “Cam, go to your room.”

  After the boy left, she tried to lunge for the robot, but Blueberry hissed at her sudden movement. Diana retreated, and Marcy grabbed Adom.

  “That’s my property,” Diana said, trying to reach Marcy, but Winston stepped between them.

  “It’s Bill’s,” he said. “You want it? Go and talk to his estate lawyer.”

  “Cam built it.” She gazed with longing at the robot.

  “It’s evidence,” Winston said. “In a murder case.”

  Diana’s face drained of color. “You’ve no proof.”

  Marcy jerked her thumb in the direction Cam had gone. “Did you do it for your son? Think he’d get a guaranteed sum from Bill? After all, the old man was the kid’s mentor.”

  “You think I killed Bill?” She looked at them with wide eyes. “I did nothing of the sort.”

  “The robot was there. And you have it now in your house”—he crossed his arms—“explain that.”

  “Yes, the robot was near Bill’s place, but I found it. Afterward. Bill had already fallen down.”

  Was she telling the truth? Could it really be a simple case of finders keepers? Winston needed Diana to be honest, so he pulled out his ace card.

  “We have a video,” he said. “Of you dancing . . . like you were on a pole.”

  She cringed. “That can’t be. I saw the broken doorbell lens.”

  “You mean you tried to crack the device, right?”

  Her face flushed red, and Winston continued, “The footage was stored elsewhere, on a computer.”

  “Impossible. Bill didn’t carry a smartphone or tablet...”

  “It was old tech,” Winston said. “A desktop.”

  She backed away from him. “What are you going to do with the footage?”

  “Maybe post it on YouTube—tagged with your name, Cam’s name, and all the colleges he’s applying to.”

  She gasped and covered her mouth.

  “Unless you cooperate. Tell us the whole truth.”

  She held up her hands. “Okay, I will. I was there that day.”

  “So you are the murderer.” Winston wanted to drag her over to the police station right then.

  “I’m not,” she said. “But I did see something.”

  Her cheeks reddened as she continued, “I heard a strange whirring and looked out my window. I saw Adom speeding out Bill’s front door. Bill noticed and started going down the ladder. But then the robot stopped at the base of the ladder, pushed it over . . . and Bill fell.”

  She shuddered. “He was all twisted up. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything for him.”

  “But you still went over and took the robot?” Winston asked. “Why? It was evidence.”

  “No, it’s a science project. One that earned Cam a full ride.”

  Winston shook his head in disgust. The blindness of an obsessed mom. But with his YouTube threat, he bet she’d spoken the truth.

  Why had the robot come rushing out then? Had it been deranged? Winston doubted that. After all, it’d worked well enough to secure a scholarship. So the question was: Who had commanded Adom to push over the ladder? Who was the real killer?

  CHAPTER 33

  WINSTON AND MARCY WALKED back home, Marcy lifting the robot high in the air like a trophy. Even Blueberry seemed to stroll along with pride. And maybe he should; the cat had kept the evidence from being snatched away after all.

  Blueberry waltzed through the door like a king, into the kitchen, and paused in front of his dish. He acted like he was waiting for a reward. So Winston took out a can of salmon gourmet cat food from the pantry and gave it to Blueberry with a flourish. “Don’t tell Kristy,” he whispered to the cat. “She’ll think I spoiled you.” The cat wiggled his whiskers and started nibbling his food.

  Smiling, Winston left the cat in the kitchen and joined Marcy in the living room. She’d taken over the futon and was lying across it, rotating the robot in her hands.

  “How does this thing work?” she asked.

  “Scoot over. I’ll show you.”

  She sat up and gave him some space on the couch. “You were always better with machines.”

  Winston held Adom and peered at the robot. “If only so many different people hadn’t handled it, then we’d be able to get the murderer’s prints.”

  Or not. He’d tried dusting for prints last year (he’d had to Google how) and had ruined them.

  Marcy peered at the robot’s face. “What button do you press to turn it on?”

  “Oh, it’s voice a
ctivated,” he said. “Bill showed me. It can do cool stuff like chop onions. Butler things.”

  “Neat,” Marcy said. “I need one of those in my kitchen back home.”

  Back home? In London? Was she missing her life across the ocean?

  Marcy interrupted his thoughts. “Do you think there’s a command for it to remember the day of the murder?”

  “Let me see.” Winston stared into the robot’s eyes and called out, “Adom.”

  A green light turned on, and the robot replied, “Ready for your command.”

  “Remember,” said Winston.

  Nothing.

  “Recall,” he said.

  “Command unknown.”

  Winston gritted his teeth.

  “Please try another action phrase.” Adom paused. “Would you like a list of common commands?”

  No, it would take too long to scroll through all the options. “There must be another way,” Winston said, slamming his hand against the coffee table. A resounding clang echoed in the kitchen. Odd. Usually Blueberry moved around like a ghost, creeping back and forth from the kitchen to the rest of the house on silent paws. But maybe Blueberry had picked up on Winston’s emotion, echoing it.

  “Would you like to search for a specific command?” Adom asked.

  “Yes.” There must be a more efficient method of finding out what he wanted. What about a different command? One to push over a ladder.

  “Search for push,” he said to Adom.

  “Push broom?” Adom asked. “First activated by user 001. Would you like to hear the entry?”

  “No,” Winston said. “Search for ladder.”

  “Ladder. Shove ladder,” Adom said. “User 004.”

  “Hear entry,” Winston said.

  The robot spat out the recorded command. Winston recognized the voice right away, even though it had an edge of menace to it.

  The kitchen door swished open all of a sudden, and the same voice of steel spoke. “Figured it out, did you?”

  Winston and Marcy turned to look at Zack—and the gun he leveled at them.

  CHAPTER 34

  WINSTON LICKED HIS lips. That didn’t look like a BB gun in Zack’s hands. “Is it real?” he asked Zack.

  Zack grunted. “One hundred percent. Now hold out your hands, the both of you.”

  Marcy tried to work her charm on Zack by batting her eyelashes at him. “But I thought you said you’d never kill or hurt anything.”

  “I don’t hurt animals,” Zack said, “but people are a different matter.”

  Marcy wilted a little, and Winston figured the previous “crush” had all been an act on Zack’s part. Maybe to cast suspicion off him. Or to get more info on how their investigation had been progressing.

  Zack tied Marcy’s wrists together and then proceeded to bind Winston’s hands. Although the material was some sort of flexible natural fiber, it managed to cut into his skin, and Winston winced.

  After checking the bonds, Zack tilted his head toward the kitchen door and said, “Now go in there.”

  AS SOON AS THEY ENTERED, Winston could smell it. Gas. The whiff of sulfur invaded his nostrils, and he could see the stovetop dials turned and the oven door wide open. Thankfully, Blueberry was nowhere in sight.

  Zack commanded Winston and Marcy to stand side by side next to the range while he slipped on a gas mask. Then he linked Winston’s right ankle to Marcy’s left ankle with the tough eco-ties.

  At least he’d die next to his sister, Winston thought, their feet bound together. But he needed answers before he succumbed to the toxic carbon monoxide. “Why’d you do it, Zack? And don’t tell me it was for the gray water.”

  “Of course not.” Even muffled by the mask, Zack’s voice sounded harsh. “Bill had no respect for life, wanted to get rid of those sweet skunks. Little baby ones.”

  Speaking of devaluing life, Winston thought.

  Zack continued, “He hired a company to kill that precious skunk family—”

  “Oh, so you did argue with Bill about killing. Just like Heather said.” Marcy took a swipe at Zack, but he moved away. Still attached to his sister, Winston almost fell over, but he recovered.

  “The old man wanted to kill my friends,” Zack said. “I took care of my furry buddies, checked on them every night.”

  “The video,” Marcy whispered to Winston.

  So Zack had gone over to Bill’s place that evening, not to see about his neighbor’s well-being but about the skunks’ quality of life. It was no wonder skunks never left the neighborhood, with Zack taking care of them. Winston also guessed that the wild creatures had made that odd mewling sound the other night.

  “I made sure to give them food,” Zack said.

  That circular object Anastasia had seen—Winston bet it had been a feeding dish.

  “What do skunks eat anyway?” Winston asked. Maybe if he kept Zack talking, the man would make a mistake, and Winston could overpower him. But first Winston needed to free his hands. He tried to bite at his woven cuffs, but his teeth were too dull. (Less chomping on ice in the future, he noted to himself—if he survived this.) Plus, it would take forever for his incisors to sever the string, and the gas was spreading—in fact, he already felt a slight headache.

  “Skunks eat insects, worms. They’re absolutely essential to the ecosystem by keeping crops—even lawns—free of pests. Bet you didn’t know that.” Zack paused. “But I needed something easier to give them, so I fed them cat food.”

  Winston remembered seeing the large bag of cat food in Zack’s home. He recalled Blueberry trying to leap over Bill’s fence, too—probably to get a snack from the provisions left for the skunks. Just as he figured this out, a wave of dizziness hit Winston, and he tottered.

  “It was the perfect crime,” Zack said. “Old man falls off a ladder. I even erased the footage from his desktop. Nobody would have suspected, except then you had to get nosy.”

  “My brother was doing the right thing, you monster,” Marcy said, but her voice came in slow spurts, like it took too much effort for her to talk.

  “I erased all the evidence,” Zack said. “Except I forgot about the recorded voice commands on the robot—until you, my dear, carried that blasted thing around the neighborhood like a trophy.” Zack started coughing. “Huh, this mask doesn’t help as much as I thought it would. Guess it’s time for me to go.”

  Winston gulped. His sister had always bailed him out. He had to save her. While not dying. Plus, catch the killer.

  He wondered if there was a weapon he could reach. Maybe something his free foot could use. But he saw only Blueberry’s food bowl close by, and he still couldn’t reach it to kick at Zack.

  Zack unlocked the side door leading to the outside and stepped through. He leveled his gun at the gas range. “An explosion will burn up that robot. And get rid of you pesky meddlers at the same time.”

  Winston felt his stomach twist—and not just from the carbon monoxide. What could he do to stop the crazed animal lover?

  CHAPTER 35

  WITH A GREAT CRY, WINSTON bellowed, “Cat! We have a cat in the house.”

  Zack’s eyes widened. “Oh no. That beautiful gray cat you were walking.” He rushed through the connecting kitchen door to hunt the inner recesses.

  Thankfully, he’d left the door to the outside wide open. A wave of air came in and refreshed Winston. “Now’s our chance,” Winston told Marcy. “Let’s go to the living room.”

  “No, we should escape through the side door,” she whispered.

  “But then we won’t be able to retrieve Adom. And maybe catch Zack. Come on,” Winston said, gesturing to their tied feet. “It’ll be like a three-legged race.”

  They managed to count off and walked inside-leg, outside-leg to the living room. Winston collapsed near the futon. How to get free? His eyes searched the room. The robot.

  He activated Adom. “Cut rope.”

  The robot retracted its arm. Like during Bill’s demonstration, it changed its limb to one w
ith an attached blade. The sharp knife sliced through their restraints with ease.

  Just then, Zack showed up with a wriggling and mad Blueberry in his arms. Winston did a speedrun and used the last of his strength to tackle Zack. Thank goodness he’d practiced catching Blueberry when the cat had tried to escape during their walk.

  Unprepared for Winston’s launch, Zack dropped hard. His gas mask fell off, and he groaned. Winston continued to pin him, his miniature Buddha belly helping to keep Zack down. Blueberry, now free from Zack’s clutches, started clawing at his kidnapper’s exposed face with all the vengeance of a furious feline.

  Winston saw Marcy behind Zack cover her nose with her hand and enter the kitchen to turn off the gas. When she returned to the living room, she dialed the cops. He didn’t loosen his grip (and Blueberry didn’t stop scratching) until the police arrived.

  IT GAVE WINSTON A LOT of satisfaction to see Officer Gaffey among the policemen who hauled Zack away. The cop shook his head at Winston, but there was also a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.

  The police opened windows and doors to air out the house. Paramedics came to check on Marcy and Winston, but they both had no major injuries. Medical staff even evaluated Blueberry, who seemed insulted that they thought he’d need help.

  That cat. Blueberry had saved Winston’s life twice. First, Blueberry had been the reason Zack had gotten distracted and left. Second, chasing the cat had taught Winston how to really tackle and hold on tight.

  “Come on, you rascal,” Winston said to Blueberry, patting him on the head. “You deserve a treat.”

  After the kitchen had aired out, Winston went to the pantry and gave the cat another fancy meal for the day. “Lobster,” he said. “Bon appétit.”

  He left Blueberry licking his chops and checked on Marcy. His sister lay sprawled on the futon. Winston didn’t tell her to move over. Instead, he crouched down to her level and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. No.” Marcy furrowed her brow. “Almost dying makes you think about things.”