She leans toward me and lowers her voice, even though no one’s in sight. “What if they really are spies? What if this is the mystery we were looking for when we were kids?”

“The woman definitely doesn’t want anyone to recognize her,” I say. “That ugly hat, those huge sunglasses.”

Skylar frowns at the chipped polish on her thumbnail. “He could be a cheater like my dad.”

She hasn’t talked about her dad in ages. I thought she’d gotten over him, but I guess she’s still mad. He walked out when she was eight or nine, so she has tons of bad memories.

Maybe it’s better that I don’t remember my dad. He left before I was born, and I’ve never even seen him, not a photograph, not a name. Unlike Skylar’s mom, my mother never talks about him. Not even if I ask her. Sometimes I wonder if she got me from a sperm bank. Anyway, I have no feelings for him one way or another. When I’m older, I plan to get a copy of my birth certificate.

I take a chance Skylar might get mad at me and say, “You don’t know they’re cheating. You don’t know anything about them.”

“Why else would they be meeting at a dead-end road where they think nobody will see them?”

“This isn’t about your dad, Skylar, it’s about solving a mystery. We decided they’re Russian spies, remember? They’re meeting here to exchange secrets or plan some kind of mission. They could even be terrorists, with explosives in the SUV.”

She’s picking a scab on her knee now, her face hidden by her hair. “So what do we do about it? How do we catch them with explosives or weapons or whatever? Especially when they have a car and we don’t?”

“We’ll video them,” I say. “They’ll never know they’re being watched.”

Skylar tosses her hair back and grins. “That’s a great idea, Abbi! We’ll get their license plate numbers, the make of their cars, the dates we see them. We might connect them to something we see on the news, a crime or a murder, and we’ll have evidence.”

We high-five each other. Skylar’s totally on board with the spies, her dad forgotten.

“To the mystery we’ll finally solve!” she says. We bump fists and drink some more water from my extra bottle.

“You take the videos, Abbi. Your phone has a better camera than mine. Take a few photos of her car now too, before they come back. Make sure you get the license plate.”

I grab my phone and start gathering evidence for a crime that hasn’t happened yet. I feel like a reporter covering a big story.

Skylar looks at my pictures. “These are great. The license plate is nice and sharp—Maryland 3MB5098.”