I So Don't Do Mysteries (19 page)

Read I So Don't Do Mysteries Online

Authors: Barrie Summy

I jump about
a million miles into the air.

It's Tattoo Man, and he's standing a little too close. “Yer gonna
pick up the ammo you knocked off the display, right?”

“Uh, right.”

I hang up all the packets of bullets and straighten them, then exit Kearny's Gun
Exchange in time to see the burgundy van careening out of the parking lot and onto the street.

“Sherry!”

I jump another million miles. “Mom! You gotta quit freaking me out like
that.”

“Sorry, pumpkin.”

I sink down onto the curb. “So, you made it from the Park to the condo and
then from the condo to here?”

“Impressive, isn't it?” A few leaves are gusted away as Mom
settles next to me.

“Very. Where's Grandpa?”

“Resting up for tomorrow when we catch the poacher. We'll go over
those plans in a moment. But first, bring me up to speed on what happened today at the Park and
where the gun store fits into everything.”

So I tell her.

There's a long pause. Too long. Finally, my mom says, “Murder? You
really think the old people were planning to murder the chef?”

“Absolutely. I heard them.”

“Sherry, they're pretty frail. I don't see them as a physical threat
to anyone. However, I'm wondering if they're connected to the case in a different
way.”

I cross my arms. “I heard them.”

“Just listen for a second. Perhaps the old people want rhino horns for
themselves. They met on an arthritis Web site. They're in a lot of pain. Rhino horns are used in
a variety of quack medicines.”

“No way.” I stamp my foot. I hate it when my mom blows me off.
“Like I already said, I heard them. They're Fearless Rhino Warriors.”

“Good police work involves keeping an open mind.” Mom clears her
throat. “Let's talk about your role in stopping the poacher tomorrow at the Park. Your
grandfather and I feel strongly that we can prevent the crime and handle any actual conflict. Our
paranormal powers give us a definite edge. We'll need you to dial nine-one-one when the
situation's under control. That's all, though. I'm assuming Junie will be with
you?”

“She will.”

“Good. That makes it safer. Basically, we want you and Junie hidden and out of
danger.”

We figure out tomorrow's meet time, then Mom leaves to go conspire with
Grandpa.

All in all, I'm feeling superb. I've turned out to be a skilled detective. I
rescued the old people's butts from muggings on gang turf. I discovered they were Fearless
Rhino Warriors. My mom's afterlife will be saved. The rhinos will be safe. I'm totally
on track with Junie. And sweet romance is percolating between me and Josh. Major sigh.

Biking back to the condo, I yawn. At my aunt's, I'll sack out and sleep
uninterrupted until tomorrow morning. At which time I'll take a long, hot shower and eat a
bunch of junk food for breakfast.

Then I'm going on a secret personal errand.

Junie and Amber
had already left when I finally rolled out of
bed on Thursday. Junie's note said they had to reshoot some of yesterday's scene but
that she and Amber would definitely be back in time for the Wild Animal Park jaunt later this
afternoon.

I park the bike and hustle into Home Depot, filled with joy and hope. Thoughts of my
darling fishies fill me with warmth. I'm here for some serious aquarium shopping.

I follow the signs hanging from the ceiling until I get to the garden center, and start
poking around in the fertilizer shelves. I'm humming a happy song and feeling good.

“Can I help you?”

I look up to see an older woman, rake thin, with hair the color of yellow daisies.
She's tying a bow at the back of her orange Home Depot apron.

“Hi,” I say with a bright smile. “I'm looking for
Keflit.”

She crosses her arms over her narrow chest. “What are you planning to do with
Keflit?”

I launch into the story of my turquoise + sea green bedroom walls and how I invented
the paint color at Home Depot, but at a Home Depot in Phoenix—why did I pick such a tough
color to match?—and how I'm trying to coordinate my aquarium decor with my walls.
Okay, I know I'm rambling, but it's a pretty interesting ramble.

Arms crossed even tighter, she interrupts me with, “Do you know what Keflit is
really for?”

“Planting,” I say. That's one good thing about all this detective
work. I've gotten really talented at remembering details. And I can totally hear Arthur saying
Keflit was for planting, not aquariums.

“It used to be sold for killing weeds. Problem was, it killed a lot of other things
too. And that's what it would do to your fish. Kill them.”

I slap my forehead. “Kill my fish?” I absolutely do not want my
precious fish floating belly-up in a delightfully decorated aquarium. I guess it's back to trying to
match beads at the Hobby Shop.

“Keflit's been illegal in this country for several years now. I'm
surprised you even know the name.”

“Illegal?” A little ice cube of cold lodges at the base of my spine.
“Why?”

“Because of how lethal it is. Even a very small amount of Keflit can kill a large
animal.”

“Kill a large animal?” I repeat.

She nods. “About a decade ago, they lost a couple of elephants at the Toronto
Zoo because a gardener used Keflit too close to the exhibit.”

“Oh no.” Elephants are big. Rhinos are big. The chill creeps up my
spine.

She continues, “And it works quickly. Keflit's nickname was
‘two-step,' because that's how many steps an animal took before keeling
over.”

“Two-step?” I break out in goose bumps all over.

The pager clipped to her apron crackles. She looks at it. “Repaint your
bedroom walls,” she advises. “Something neutral.” She leaves.

I sit down on a wooden slat, next to a tall ceramic planter. I'm freezing cold,
even though it's warm out and Home Depot isn't even air conditioned but only cooled
with giant, noisy ceiling fans.

I close my eyes. Around me, the smells of flowers and plants and potting soil and
fertilizer all meld together and transport me to the Wild Animal Park. I'm by the fence at the
rhino enclosure and I can see Arthur with the Ziploc bag of shimmering, sparkling, killing Keflit. And in
my mind, as the Keflit crystals dance and glitter, pieces of the mystery puzzle slam into place. Strange
snippets of phone conversations suddenly make perfect sense. I flash on sentences I interpreted as
innocent when they were really sinister and murderous.

Dizzy, I grab the lip of the planter to keep from pitching into the aisle. The old people
are not Fearless Rhino Warriors. Not even close. They want the rhino horn. For a funky, fringy arthritis
cure. Which must be where Dr. Kim comes in. My mother was right. And the old people are furious,
killing furious, with the chef who went all greedy and wants the meat
and
the horn. When I was
eavesdropping at the restaurant, that's what he was talking about to the poacher. Then the
weird thing he said, the thing I couldn't remember, crashes into my consciousness. The chef
said, “Just don't tell them.” Meaning, don't tell the old people
they're out of the rhino deal.

Shivering, I lean against the planter. I told the old people my name. I gave them my cell
number. I told them Mom and Grandpa and me were protecting the rhinos. I even told them
we'd be at the Park tonight. Major, major tragedy.

I'm sitting there all hunched over and hugging the planter for support.
Suddenly, it's like my brain morphs into a pinball machine and the poacher's name is
zinging and pinging around in there. All lit up and with bells ringing. I know exactly who he is. Without
a shadow of a doubt.

At Indy 500 speed, I'm out of Home Depot and on the orange rocket back to
the condo. I have a huge pot of coffee to brew.

Just as I'm
turning the key in the lock, the front
door swings open.

Amber runs straight into me. She squeals.

Her clothes are so tight I'm amazed she can breathe, let alone squeal. She must
have spent hours gluing them on. Her skintight gold tank top matches the polish on her toenails and
fingernails, which matches her eyes. Her black jeans are molded to her. She looks awesome.

“I have a date,” she says. “He's twenty-one.”
She rounds her index finger and thumb into an O. “And very good-looking.”

Ack. Eek. “No, no, no.” I'm flapping my hands in panic.
“You're driving me and Junie to the Wild Animal Park.”

“Nuh-uh. Junie said you guys didn't need me anymore.”

Say what?

“Amber,” Junie calls from inside the condo, “are you
leaving?”

“I'm gonna wait at the curb!” Amber yells, heading out.
“Sherry's here!”

I jet into the condo.

Galloping to the kitchen, I shout, “Why don't we need Amber? We
gotta make coffee. I figured out a bunch of stuff about the mystery today. We gotta get hold of my
mom and grandpa ASAP.” My hands flapping even faster, I'm so nervous and scared
and freaked that I can't stand still.

“Your grandfather's sick. They came by here earlier to tell you.”
Junie grabs a bag of Doritos. “He started feeling really crummy this morning. Your mom took
him to a ghost avian specialist who gave him some medicine.” She opens the bag. “But
he was feeling even worse by lunchtime, so your mom's taking him back to the
specialist.” She pulls out a handful of chips.

“You got all that from my grandfather?” I'm impressed with
Junie and worried about my grandfather all at the same time.

“I'm not saying it was easy, but you know how I've always
been good with foreign languages.” Junie munches on a chip. “Anyway, I'm
supposed to tell you that tonight's mission is off. Your mother's exact words,
according to your grandfather, were ‘Sherry, tonight's mission is aborted.' He
made me repeat it five times. Then he passed out.”

“He passed out?”

“At least, I think that's what happened. He was standing on the patio
table. Then he kind of flopped over onto his back, his feet sticking straight up in the air.”

“What?”

“Then he was whooshed through the air. Over the stucco wall. And,
poof—gone. I guess your mom scooped him up and rushed him to the specialist.”

I slide onto a bar stool. Elbows on the counter, I hold my head up with my hands. I
can't believe it. I just can't believe it. What started off as a perfect day has gone
completely haywire. I close my eyes. Even though I don't know what happens to a really sick
ghost bird, it can't be good. At least one rhino will die tonight. And I'll lose my mom
forever. I take a deep, shuddery breath.

I freeze in that sad position for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds.
During this traumatic time, I make a decision. A really tough, scary decision.

When I open my eyes, I see Junie set a Mountain Dew Code Red in front of me.

“What's your plan?” she asks. “I can tell you've
got one.”

Junie my best friend is so back. “The mission is not aborted. It can't
be. Or I'll lose my mom forever. And rhinos will die. I'm going to the Wild Animal
Park. I'm not exactly sure how, but I'm gonna stop the poacher.”

“You know I'll help you.”

“Junie, you're the best.”

While we're loading up a big backpack, we go over our plan.

“He'll be so blown away when he sees us actually in the rhino
enclosure,” I say, “that he'll sorta freeze up.”

“That's when you zap him in the eyes with hair spray,” Junie
says. “And I'll conk him on the head with the frying pan.” She drops the heavy
pan into the pack.

I pat my pocket with my cell. “Then I'll call the cops to come pick up a
knocked-out criminal.”

She pushes rope from my great-aunt's garage into the backpack, then pokes a
few flashlights into a side compartment.

“I hope we can pull this off.” I shake the can of Sassy Girl hair spray.
Totally full. I set it in on top of the rope.

Junie zips the whole thing up.

“We gotta give it our best shot. We can't let him Keflit a rhino.”
I swing on my mini-backpack.

She hauls the Yellow Pages down off the bookshelf to find a taxi company.

My cell rings. It's Josh. Woohoo. The screen says Analog Roam. I'm
not supposed to answer those calls. Too expensive, in The Ruler's opinion. But it's
Josh. But it's analog roam. But it's—

“Hey, Josh,” I say into the phone.

“Hey, Sherry, I'm free tonight. Wanna do something?”

I pause. Josh, my knight in shining armor, is available. Right when I need him most. We
are so connected. We are so meant to be.

“How does a trip to the Wild Animal Park sound?” I say.

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