Page 63 of Don't Cross Mo Ellery

I grab it, and with the hard hat plus my crossing guard vest, I do actually get a burst of confidence. I slip back through the fence onto the sidewalk, where I stand up casually, like I was always there, just doing some kind of typical... gas business. Marlowe’s across the street now—having made sure the coast was clear for me to go in and get the hat, she’s now keeping an eye on the outside of the house, so she can alert me if there are any developments while I am—fingers crossed—inside.

We nod at each other.

Then I take a deep breath and try to manifest Big Gas Company Energy.

I adjust the hard hat with a jaunty tap, fix my eyes on the house, and business-walk my way toward the front door.

And holy hell, it works—I breeze right past the literal gas company truck, the fire truck, and the police car, and no one even looks at me.

This Rodney guy knows what he’s talking about—I should probably check out the rest of his videos, or at least scrub through a couple of them.

I give Marlowe our agreed-upon sign—a knock on the hard hat—as I slip inside the house.

Apparently, what I’m looking for is an elaborate charging station—a sculpture? a statue?—in Claudia’s bedroom upstairs. Marlowe says I can’t miss it. Turns out Claudia was some kind of artist? I feel a pit in my stomach at the fact that I didn’t know this, and now I’ll never get to ask her about it.

I slip through the front room of the bungalow, and yeah, wow, the gas smell isstrong. Better make this quick.

No one seems to be around, so I take the creaky stairs two at atime, down the burnt umber carpeted hallway with its wood paneling and into the bedroom with the rose comforter. Okay. There’s a bedside table with a lamp and a digital clock. A long low dresser with a mirror. A closet, a floor lamp, and a human-size sculpture of...

Is that Link fromThe Legend of Zelda?

All grown up and ready to party?

Shirtless with rippling abs?

Thisis Claudia’s sculpture?

Wow. Way to go, Claud.

I lift the bottom of my shirt to cover my nose and mouth. I must already be feeling a bit dizzy and out of it because I swear this Link looks very familiar. I can’t place it, but I know that face and bod, and not from my days of playing the game, because canon Link is a scrawny kid.

So where’s the phone?

I check Link’s hands; one is resting on his hip and the other looks like it’s blowing a kiss. No phone. It’s not on his trademark hat or his beefy shoulders, so I walk all the way around and—wow—she’sreallylovingly crafted his ass, but there’s no phone in there either. I’m starting to doubt myself, when I suddenly see it: a seam running along the edge of his abs. I press on his six-pack and the abs pop open andBoom.

Claudia’s phone.

Fully charged, baby.

I grab it, tuck it in my pocket, and run down the stairs.

Where I slam right into a giant fireman cosplaying as a friggin’ mountain.

He frowns. “What the hell are you doing?”

Uh-oh.

“I—”

“How many times do we have to tell you guys it’s not safe untilwe find the source of the leak? You’d really think thegascompany would know that.”

Right. Gas company. That’s me!

“Sorry, sorry, I—got here late, didn’t get the memo. Leaving now!”

I try to skirt around him but he steps in front of me again. My heart is pounding so hard it has got to be visible through my shirt.

“Hey, tell your guys it’s not the oven or the furnace or the meter connections. Gotta be the line under the house.” He shakes his head. “Good thing you turned the gas off for the street. Could’ve been way, way worse.”