Riley Mack and the Other Known Troublemakers

by Chris Grabenstein

  “Anyway,” said Riley, “we followed the dogs and saw them all come streaming into the back door of the bank because I think some of these dogs are purebred security dog puppies so they instinctively knew something bad was going on in here.”

  The reporter arched an eyebrow. “Really? The puppies knew the bank was being robbed?”

  “Hey, why else would a pack of dogs that just escaped from a puppy mill go running into a bank instead of a steak house?”

  “And the back door was propped open,” added Jamal, joining Briana and Riley in the bright white circle of light. “Which seemed atypical. Do you know what that word means, Ms. Barclay, atypical? Sort of like asymmetrical.”

  While Jamal rattled on, Riley noticed Mr. Weitzel skulking across the lobby toward his office.

  “Excuse me,” he said. He stepped away from the camera crew and followed “Chip” across the lobby toward his office.

  “You can’t go in,” Mongo said to Weitzel. Riley had stationed his humongous friend in front of the bank manager’s door just in case “Chip” got any ideas about making evidence disappear or starting his little editing project early.

  “That’s my office,” said Weitzel.

  “Right now,” said Riley, “it’s a crime scene. See the tape?”

  While the cops had been arresting the bank robbers, Riley had strung up all sorts of silver duct tape across Mr. Weitzel’s office doorway and written CRIME SCENE DO NOT ENTER on it with a thick-tipped marker.

  “A crime scene?” Weitzel scoffed. “Says who?”

  “I do,” boomed a voice that cut through all the barks and camera crew commotion.

  A man wearing a tan trench coat strolled across the lobby, his hands stuffed into the deep pockets. He had a square face and an even squarer haircut.

  “And who are you?” asked Weitzel.

  “Special Agent Larry Chavis, FBI.” He flashed a badge.

  Mr. Weitzel flicked on his fake smile and shot out his arm to shake Chavis’s hand. “Chuck Weitzel. But you can call me Chip. Pleased to meet you, officer.”

  Chavis didn’t shake Weitzel’s hand. He shifted his focus to Riley. “You Colonel Mack’s son?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How you holding up?”

  “Better. Now that you’re here.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Um, Special Agent?” Now the bank manager sounded all smarmy.

  “Sir?”

  “Can I bop into my office for a quick little minute? I left some very important paperwork on my desk this afternoon.”

  “He’s lying,” said Riley.

  “What?” Mr. Weitzel acted offended. “Lying?”

  “He wants to go in there and tamper with evidence.”

  “Special Agent Chavis,” said Weitzel, all huffy, “you should know that young Mr. Mack here is a well-known troublemaker around town.”

  Riley shrugged. “Hey, beats being an embezzler. See, Mr. Chavis, Mr. Weitzel here stole three thousand dollars from one of his depositors, an elderly lady named Mrs. Rollison. Then, he tried to pull a frame job on my mom.”

  “I did no such thing!”

  “Maybe not,” said Riley. “I guess the police should search your files, maybe your desk, to see if there is any evidence to support my accusation.”

  “Good idea,” said Chavis. “We’ll start with the desk?”

  “An excellent choice, sir.”

  Before Special Agent Chavis could enter the office and find everything Riley knew he would find, Mr. Weitzel lurched toward the door.

  Mongo grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him six inches off the ground.

  “What’s the matter, mister? Can’t you read? The duct tape says, ‘Do Not Enter!’”

  50

  RILEY’S MOM WAS RELEASED FROM her jail cell before eleven p.m.

  They needed her bunk for Mr. Weitzel because Otto and Fred were sharing the Fairview Police Department’s only other cell.

  The chief arrived at headquarters just as Mrs. Mack was being set free. He was covered with chicken feathers. The TV news crews—there were a dozen of them at the police building and outside the bank doing live remotes for their eleven o’clock news broadcasts—all wanted a shot of the chief shaking hands with “the young local heroes.”

  Forcing a smile, Chief John Brown worked his way up the line, thanking Briana, Jake, Jamal, and Mongo. When he got to Riley, he leaned in and whispered, through very tight teeth, “This isn’t over, Riley Mack.”

  On Friday, the “Bandit-Busting Bowsers” were all over the news. The national news. Briana, who had excellent on-camera skills, did the Today show, Good Morning America, Fox & Friends, The Early Show, and about fifteen other interviews by satellite.

  The dogs, being doubly famous—first for escaping from a horrid puppy mill and then for courageously confronting the notorious suburban bank robbers—were all adopted by the end of the day. Even the ones recuperating in Dr. Langston’s animal hospital would have homes waiting for them as soon as they were treated and released. Briana did a lot of the interviews with her two newly adopted Chihuahuas, Amigo and Pepe, snuggled on her lap.

  On Saturday, Riley’s mom actually had the day off because starting the following Monday, the people running First National Bank wanted Mrs. Madiera Mack to be the new manager of their Fairview branch. They also wanted to give her a hefty raise and her own office.

  Riley and his mom had a big pancake breakfast at the diner to celebrate and decided to go for a stroll.

  “We should head over to Sherman Green,” suggested Riley. “Check out the antiques.”

  This surprised his mother. “You like old junk?”

  “Depends. I think I’d like it today.”

  It was a glorious spring day. Flowers were blooming. You didn’t even need a jacket. And the sky was the blue people sing about.

  “Wow, wonder what’s going on over there,” said Riley, gesturing toward the crowd gathered outside a triple-tented antiques booth.

  “Grandma’s Antiques,” said his mom, reading the sign. “Oh, a friend of mine at work told me about this. The fifth grade from your school is on a field trip.”

  “No kidding,” said Riley, pretending like he wasn’t the one who’d organized the whole fake event. “A field trip?”

  “Something to do with studying history through found objects.”

  “Sounds cool. Let’s check it out.”

  “But you’re not a fifth grader.”

  “True. But I used to be. Come on.”

  They made their way over to Grandma’s Antiques, which was bustling with over a hundred customers. Kids, parents, grandparents.

  “Cash only!” snarled Grandma Brown, surly as ever. “You break it, you buy it!”

  “Everything’s on sale today,” added Chief Brown, who, Riley imagined, needed his mom to move a lot of merchandise to make up for all the money they’d lost when Riley’s crew, with the able assistance of Ms. Grabowski and her boyfriend, Andrew, shut down their dirty dog business, big-time.

  Riley saw Jamal in the tent with his mom and dad.

  Jamal raised his eyebrows, waiting for his signal.

  Riley touched the right side of his nose with his right index finger.

  Jamal smiled. “Yo, Dad—look here. This is my iPod! The one that got stolen at school! Why is Grandma Brown selling my stolen iPod?”

  And then the other kids jumped in.

  “Look, Mom—it’s my Lava Lamp!”

  “Hey, she’s selling my MP3 recording karaoke player, the one you guys gave me for Chanukah!”

  “That’s my baseball mitt!”

  “My chunky lucky charm bracelet!”

  “And this here, dag, it’s my other iPod!” shouted Jamal. “Oh, man, this is egregious! Do you know what that word means, Dad? Means this is outrageously bad and unacceptable.”

  It got better after that.

  The parents confronted Grandma Brown, demanding to know why she was selling goods stolen from their childr
en. Several suggested that she needed to be arrested and, since Chief Brown was standing right there, they insisted that he cart his own mother off to jail in handcuffs.

  Eager to keep his job and move on before the kids started pointing a finger at his son, Gavin (who was sitting in a corner of the tent with his earbuds stuffed in, singing “O Sole Mio”), the chief quickly agreed.

  “Mom, you are under arrest.”

  “What?”

  “You have the right to remain silent.”

  “Take these handcuffs off me, Fatty McFat.”

  “Okay, that does it. I am sick and tired of you calling me names. I’m locking you up and throwing away the key!”

  Riley grinned.

  The chief had been so right last night. This thing was definitely not over. In fact, helping Police Chief Brown lose his job was about to move up to the top of the Gnat Pack’s To Do list.

  Riley and his mom watched the chief cart his snarling mother away.

  “So, Riley,” his mom asked when they were gone, “how’d you guys really find that security camera footage last night?”

  “Sorry, Mom. That information is classified. I’d tell you, but, then, I’d have to shoot you. And, frankly, I love you too much to do that.”

  His mother laughed and gave Riley a hug.

  “I love you, too, you little troublemaker.”

  That’s when her cell phone buzzed.

  It was Riley’s dad.

  He was safe. His whole squad was safe. The secret mission was over and it had been a huge success. Riley’s mom and dad chatted for a couple minutes and said a bunch of mushy junk, and then his mom handed the phone to Riley.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Riley? How are you?”

  “Excellent, Dad. Never better.”

  “So what’d you do while I was off chasing bad guys?”

  “Nothing much,” said Riley. “Same old, same old.”

  “You staying out of trouble?”

  “Whenever possible.”

  And when it wasn’t, Riley Mack would do what he did best: he’d protect his family, he’d protect his friends, and he would defend those who could not defend themselves.

  And, while he was doing it, he would also do like his dad always said: he would try to enjoy the ride.

  THANK YOU…

  FIRST AND FOREMOST TO MY editors, Laura Arnold and Maria Gomez, as well as editorial director Barbara Lalicki at HarperCollins for assisting me in the development of Riley and his crew.

  To Sam and Cameron Morkal-Williams who, years ago, when they were both about Riley’s age, first introduced Ms. Lalicki to my writing for younger readers.

  To the real Riley Mack for lending me his name. The real Riley, my web maven’s son, is a great young guy who has never, ever caused any kind of trouble for anyone anywhere (as far as I know).

  To my extremely talented wife, J.J., who has been my first reader/editor on everything I have ever had published. She has an exceptionally keen eye for any boring bits that need to be cut.

  To my agent Eric Myers and everybody at the Spieler Agency.

  To Riley’s art director, Hilary Zarycky, designer Erin Fitzsimmons, and copy editor Kathryn Hinds. Thanks for making young Riley Mack’s debut so spectacular.

  To the late Donald Westlake and his Dortmunder books for being such an inspiration.

  And, most especially, to all of YOU who rescue animals from shelters, take them into your homes, and make them members of your family.

  About the Author

  CHRIS GRABENSTEIN is the Agatha and Anthony Award–winning author of the Haunted Mysteries series, including THE CROSSROADS, THE HANGING HILL, and THE SMOKY CORRIDOR. He’s also the author of such adult titles as TILT A WHIRL, MAD MOUSE, and WHACK A MOLE. Chris lives in New York City with his wife, JJ, three cats, and a dog named Fred, who starred on Broadway in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

  You can visit Chris (and Fred) online at www.chrisgrabenstein.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  Credits

  Jacket art © 2012 by Ben Huen

  Jacket design by Erin Fitzsimmons

  Copyright

  RILEY MACK AND THE OTHER KNOWN TROUBLEMAKERS.

  Copyright © 2012 by Chris Grabenstein.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.harpercollinschildrens.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Grabenstein, Chris.

  Riley Mack and the other known troublemakers / by Chris Grabenstein.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Twelve-year-old Riley Mack and his friends Briana, Mongo, Jake, and Jamal outwit the school bully, solve the mystery of who stole the goldendoodle named Noodle, and get evidence to help the FBI catch bank robbers.

  ISBN 978-0-06-202620-0 (trade bdg.)

  [1. Heroes—Fiction. 2. Bullies—Fiction. 3. Schools—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. Embezzlement—Fiction. 6. Robbers and outlaws—Fiction. 7. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.

  PZ7.G7487Ri 2012

  2011016616

  [Fic]—dc23

  CIP

  AC

  12 13 14 15 16 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  First Edition

  EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2012 ISBN: 978-0-06-210204-1

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