Hiss Me Deadly (3 page)

The raccoon bared his teeth. "No way."

Natalie stepped closer to me. "And you didn't pick up a tiara and that nice digital watch while you were snatching the pearl necklace?"

His black eyes turned as hard as an extra-credit math problem. "This is
my
watch, friend. Why do I get blamed for everything that disappears?"

"Beats me," I said. "Is it because you're the biggest thief at school?"

"I didn't come here to be insulted," snarled the raccoon.

"Where do you usually go?" said Natalie.

"That's it!" snapped Johnny Ringo. "Enough of your lip. Sic 'em, Rolf!"

The branches rustled above our heads. I looked up to see a wolverine plummeting, like an emergency airlift of mean and ugly.

"
Yaah!
"

I dodged to one side, Natalie to the other.

Whomp!

Rolf landed between us in a shower of leaves and fur.

"I thought he was on coffee break," said Natalie.

"Sure," said Johnny. "He broke coffee, and now he's gonna break you."

Natalie and I didn't wait for the big lug to re-cover. We beat feet.

From behind us came Ringo's roar, "Ice those creeps!"

We tore across the open playground, weaving between soccer players and random kids. I risked a glance back.

Rolf came pounding after us, knocking the players aside like Tinkertoys. He was fast for a big guy. And he was gaining.

Natalie took to the sky. "Get the lead out, Gecko!"

"Time for ... Plan P!" I panted.

"P?" she asked.

"As in
pick up!
" I jumped for her legs and just managed to snag them.

Natalie dipped dangerously. "Let go! You're heavy."

"Not half as heavy as Rolf," I said, hanging on. "Head for that classroom!"

Bobbing and weaving, she flapped for the nearest portable building. We were nearly there.

I looked over my shoulder.

Ringo's goon was mere steps behind us. He grinned, flashing more fangs than a werewolf film festival.

"A couple of sittin' ducks," he chuckled.

"I'm no duck; I'm a
mockingbird!
" cried Natalie.

She was coming in a little too low to make the roof.

"Up, birdie! Up!" I yelled.

We rose, maybe a foot.

The wall rushed to meet me like an eager parent after summer camp.

We weren't going to make it.

I gritted my teeth.

Wham!

I smacked into the wall like a cream pie launched by catapult.

"
Oogh,
" I groaned.

Somehow, I held on. Good ol' sticky gecko feet. I wiggled upward.

The wolverine was jumping at—and just missing—my tail.

"Come back here, ya maroons!" snarled Rolf.

"The word is
moron,
" I grunted, "as any moron would know."

Natalie reached down. Between us, we managed to lift me onto the roof.

"Nice flying," I said.

"The flying is fine," said Natalie. "It's the landing you have to watch out for."

"
Now
you tell me, birdie."

A teacher finally came and chased off Rolf. Natalie and I climbed back down. On the way to class, we chewed over what we'd learned so far. It made for a very small snack.

"What do you think about Ringo?" asked Natalie.

"He acted as innocent as a crook can act," I said, rubbing my sore jaw.

"But he's got that watch," she said. "And he's a known liar."

We made our way around a pair of sixth graders—a flying squirrel and a lemming joined at the lips. It gave me the heebie-jeebies. Cootie Central.

"Truth is, you can't trust a liar," I said.

Natalie cocked her head. "But if you can't trust a liar to always lie, then he
could
be telling the truth."

"Huh?"

"What if he really
didn't
take the pearls?"

I kneaded my forehead. "All this detecting is making my brains hurt."

"Or maybe that's just the portable building," said Natalie.

But a sore head and a jumbled mind weren't the worst in store. When I reached my classroom door, I found myself face-to-face with Shirley Chameleon.

"Oh, hiii, Chet," she said with a giggle.

"Shirley." I tried to step around her.

She blocked me with her tail. "Thanks for taking the heat."

"What do you mean?"

Shirley batted her big green googly eyes. "You didn't tell on me—even though Ms. Dwyer punished you."

"I tried, but she didn't give me half a chance," I said.

"So...," said Shirley.

"So?"

She fiddled with her scarf. "Have you thought anymore about what I asked you?"

My palms got sweaty. "About the, uh, dance?"

"Yeeesss," Shirley breathed. "Will you go with me?"

"Okay," I said.

"Really?"

I nodded. "Sure. When chipmunks fly and elephants play the tuba."

She pouted, and I pushed past her into the classroom.
Sheesh.
What's a guy gotta do to shake these dizzy dames?

After school, I loitered around Pinky's classroom. It riled me that I was no closer to catching the thief. So I figured I'd get back to basics, maybe search the other kids' desks for my mom's necklace.

I figured wrong.

"What are
you
doing here?" asked Miss Flemm.

"Detecting," I said. "It's what detectives do. Want me to look for your missing tiara?"

The Chihuahua sniffed. "Do you take me for a total fool?"

"Well, maybe not a
total—
"

"Do you think I haven't already turned this classroom inside out?"

I shook my head. "I don't—"

The Chihuahua stalked toward me, brandishing a plastic rose. "For all
I
know,
you
could be the thief, returning to the scene of the crime."

"Me?"

The last few stragglers in her classroom stopped to stare.

"Get out," yipped Miss Flemm. "Bug off, before I call Mr. Zero."

When a teacher goes bonkers, it's best not to argue. I bugged.

Pinky was waiting by the flagpole, chewing her lip. When I drew near, she jumped up.

"Well?" said Pinky. "Didja find it? Huh?"

"Not yet," I said, "but we're following leads. It'll turn up."

She slumped. "But what if it doesn't?"

"It will."

"But what if you're wrong?"

I spread my arms wide. "Me, the greatest lizard detective at school? I'm never wrong. Cheer up, munchkin."

Pinky gave a shy smile and began to trudge home.

As I followed, the thought struck me: What if I
was
wrong? What if I couldn't find the necklace? Pinky would be crushed.

I shook my head. Why should that bother me? Hard-boiled detectives don't worry about their sisters' feelings. They just knock heads, solve mysteries, take a licking, and keep on ticking.

But that little voice inside wasn't as easy to fool as a little sister.

From a simple case of theft, this was growing into something as challenging as Scrabble in Swahili. And I had a sinking feeling it would only get worse.

The next morning, clouds covered the sky, as dark and deep as a bullfrog's belch. It suited my mood to a T.

If you ask me, mornings are a terrible way to start the day. I say we should just jump directly to recess, followed by lunch.

Unfortunately, the principal seldom listens to what I have to say.

On the way to school, I stirred the soggy corn-flakes in that bowl of mush I call my brain. Somewhere out there, a thief was laughing at me. He or she had ripped off my sister, and I hadn't yet caught the creep.

The only saving grace: My mom hadn't noticed her pearl necklace was missing. At least not yet.

A voice broke into my thoughts. "Look out below!"

I glanced up to see Natalie swooping into a two-point landing on the sidewalk. Mockingbirds have some serious moves.

"Hey, private-eye guy," said Natalie. "What's the scoop?"

"Chocolate or pistachio," I said.

She stretched a wing. "Dang. I was hoping for some earthworm ripple. Ready to track down a thief?"

I yawned. "Ready to go back to bed," I said. "But since I'm up, might as well catch a bad guy."

We had almost reached the school grounds. A clamor of voices came from a knot of students and parents near the gate.

"What's the hubbub, bub?" asked Natalie.

"Search me," I said. "Let's go see."

Natalie and I had to use our elbows to clear a path through the crowd. I glimpsed tangled ropes hanging across the gate.

Finally, we popped out in front. Instinctively, I took a step back.

The ropes were snakes.

Nearly a dozen serpents—cobras, pythons, cottonmouths, and so on—had twined themselves around and across the gate, blocking the entrance. A hefty anaconda held two picket signs in her coils:
UNFAIR

TO SNAKES
and
LET OUR KIDS LEARN.
(At least, I
THINK
she was a girl snake. How do you tell for sure?)

She gave us a sarcastic smile and stuck out her forked tongue.

Across from her, a rattler lectured.

"But you won't let
our
kids go here," he yelled, shaking his rattle. "Is that fair?"

"No!" shouted the other serpents.

A voice behind me boomed, "Can it, Percy. You know that poisonous and constricting snakes aren't allowed here. It's the law."

Principal Zero shouldered his way through the group. His ears were laid back and his eyes were slits. But Percy the rattler didn't seem to care.

"Big Fat Zero," he sneered. "
This
is for your law!
P-too!
" And the rattlesnake hocked a major loogey right onto the pavement at the principal's feet. It bubbled slightly—a poison spitball.

All the serpents hissed.

The huge cat's tail lashed like a crazy, well, snake. "Break this up right now!" said Mr. Zero. "Before the police break it up for you."

The snakes tightened their grip on the fence and one another. They chanted:

"
Heck no, we won't go
till our kids can come here, yo!
"