Wenzel dragged Shawn towards the hall. He grabbed the doorknob and held tight. “I got it all from Miami Vice,” Shawn said. “Don’t you remember? We watched it together last week. That’s why I used it on Mrs. Grisby-it was the first thing that came to mind.”

Henry thought that through. Then he nodded. “You know, son, I think I can believe that.”

“Honestly, I just wanted to get out of failing the test,” Shawn said, a wave of relief rolling through him. “I never thought anyone would take it so seriously they’d call the Feds!”

“One thing you have to understand,” Henry said. “The bigger and more ridiculous the story, the more likely people are to believe it. Because no one could ever imagine you’d make up something so crazy.”

For the first time since he’d seen the government-issue sedan roll up outside their house, Shawn was able to inhale easily. But for some reason, the gray-suited man was still clutching his shoulder.

“So I guess I don’t have to go with this guy and meet my new family, right?” Shawn said, trying to extricate himself from the agent’s grip.

“Oh, no; you do,” Henry said.

“But there is no drug deal,” Shawn said. “There never was.”

“Which is a good thing, because Curtis here wouldn’t do much good if a drug kingpin was really after you,” Henry said. “Shawn, I’d like you to meet Agent Wenzel of the Santa Barbara School Police, Truancy Enforcement Squad. He’s going to take you to your new home.”

“You’re going to like it there,” Wenzel said. “We call it ‘permanent detention.’ ”

The last thing Shawn saw as Agent Wenzel dragged him out of his room was Henry’s face splitting into a broad, wicked grin.