“You’re going to iron all of your T-shirts and jeans?” Randi asked.
“Of course,” Pudge replied. “They look better that way.”
“What happened to the eat-what-you-want, sleep-in-your-clothes Pudge I’ve come to know and love?” Randi teased him.
“I was on vacation!” Pudge argued. “I don’t want to live like that forever.”
“So you’re ready to go home, then?” Herb asked.
Pudge picked up the iron and began to smooth the wrinkles out of a Boston Red Sox T-shirt. “I never thought I’d say this, but yeah. I’ve had enough craziness to last me a while. I can’t wait to watch The Little Mermaid and eat a whole lotta broccoli. I just hope my dad never finds out about half the stuff I did here. If he ever heard I had five pieces of pie . . .”
“You think he doesn’t know what you’ve been up to?” Herb Rhodes asked the boy.
Pudge looked up with a horrified expression. “Did someone tell him?”
“Why do you think he let you stay? He’s a colonel now, but he was a twelve-year-old once, too. He knows that kids your age have to blow off some steam once in a while.”
Pudge’s relief was clear. “So he’ll be okay with it?”
Herb Rhodes clapped a hand on Pudge’s shoulder. “He met Gigi, didn’t he? He knew what he was getting himself into. But I’m not sure I’d tell him about the pie. And not because it would make him mad. Five pieces of pie? I’m feeling sick just thinking about it!”
“That makes two of us,” Pudge said.
~ ~ ~ ~
On the subway, Herb Rhodes sat with a box in his lap. It was a plain, square cardboard box, about eight inches deep and eight inches wide. It was the perfect size to hold a small cake. But the way Herb handled the box with care, Randi suspected there was something far more precious inside.
They got out of the subway on Twenty-Fifth Street and walked to Green-Wood Cemetery. The tall gates that guarded Brooklyn’s largest graveyard look liked the entrance to a fairy tale kingdom, with their tall spires reaching up to the heavens. Squawking green parrots had made their nests in every nook and cranny of the brown stone structure.
Without a word passing between them, Randi and her father headed down a path that led up a hill, past the mausoleums of famous politicians, mobsters, artists, and actresses. In a peaceful valley, near a giant sassafras tree, they reached their destination. There, a simple granite tombstone read, Olivia-Kay Daly Rhodes, 1972–2012.
“Hi, Mom,” Randi said, laying the flowers she had brought down on the grave. She and her father had gone to three different florists to find blue hydrangeas. They’d been her mother’s favorite flower. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Whatever greeting Herb Rhodes offered his wife, he didn’t say it aloud. But he brushed her tombstone gently with the tips of his fingers. Then he lowered himself down to the ground. Once there, he patted the grass beside him.
“Sit down,” he told Randi. “I have something to show you.”
The ground was cold. Randi could feel a chill working its way up her spine.
“Are you going to tell me what’s in the box now?” she asked. “Is it something for Mom?”
Herb Rhodes looked down at the parcel he’d been carrying. “No, Randi. It’s for you. When we left Brooklyn last summer, I asked Gigi to store some things for me. There were a few items that your mom wanted you to have when you got older. And a couple of things that I was saving to show you.”
“Why didn’t you bring them to Deer Creek?” Randi asked.
“When you live with a girl detective,” Herb Rhodes said, “it’s hard to keep anything secret.” He passed the package to his daughter. “You can open it now.”
Randi took the lid off the box. Inside was a soft round nest made of twigs and straw. In its center was a brilliant blue egg that was twice as big as a chicken’s egg and covered in delicate white morning glories.
“It’s not as fancy as a Fabergé egg,” Herb said. “But your mom wasn’t the kind of lady who went for gemstones and diamonds. The things that fascinated her about Fabergé eggs were the secrets that they each held inside. She never missed an opportunity to get a close look at one. I can still remember how excited she was when that big exhibition came to the Frick thirteen years ago. It took her weeks to figure out how to get into the museum after hours.”
Randi grinned. “So Mom really was the lady in black that Colonel Taylor caught breaking into the Frick—the one who called herself Glenn Street.”
“Oh yes. Whenever your mom went on one of her adventures, she always used an alias, and Glenn Street was one of her favorites. She was the one who dreamed up the name. I wasn’t even a writer in those days. At the time, I worked in a vacuum cleaner shop.”
“Wow, that sounds really . . .”
“Dull?” Herb Rhodes finished the sentence for her. “Yep. I guess I was the boring one in the family back then. But your mom kept things exciting. She had a knack for finding adventure wherever she went. She’d take a quick trip to the grocery store and end up chasing down a thief who’d snatched an old lady’s purse. Or she’d read about some mystery in the newspaper and spend weeks trying to solve it.”
“She sounds like a lot of fun,” Randi said.
“She sounds a lot like her daughter,” Herb replied. “And Olivia-Kay was fun. But it could be a bit nerve-racking to love someone so wild. My worst fear was that one day she’d turn up some trouble she couldn’t handle. I knew I wouldn’t survive if anything had happened to Olivia-Kay.”
“Did she know how worried you were?” Randi asked.
“Sure. I didn’t try to hide it. But that was who Olivia-Kay was, and I didn’t want to change her. I figured she’d keep chasing after adventure until she was too old to chase anything. Then one Easter morning, she gave me this.” Herb Rhodes took the egg out of its nest and handed it to Randi. It was much lighter than she’d imagined. “Open it.”
Randi pulled the two halves of the egg apart. A smaller egg lay inside. It was decorated with a miniature painting of a river with green mountains in the background. A group of tiny kids were jumping off of a wooden dock.
“Is that Deer Creek?” Randi asked. There was already a lump in her throat.
“Yep,” Herb Rhodes said. “Olivia-Kay must have painted it with a magnifying glass. That scene shows the day that your mom and I met.”
When Randi held the egg up for a closer look, she noticed a thin crack that circled the egg. “This one opens too?” When her dad nodded, she twisted the top of the egg. Inside was another, even tinier egg. Little blue flowers were affixed to its surface using a technique called decoupage.
“They’re real,” Herb Rhodes told her. “They were growing in the field where your mom and I got married. She must have picked some and pressed them. That egg opens as well.”
It was so small that Randi couldn’t imagine what might be inside. It opened lengthwise to reveal a tiny figure swaddled in an even tinier blanket.
“What is this?” Randi asked.
“That’s you,” Herb Rhodes said. “This egg was how your mom told me that we were having a baby.”
Randi took the baby out of the egg and held it in her palm. It was about an inch and a half long, but perfect in every way—from the lock of red hair that peeked out from beneath its cap to the perfect little mouth that looked like it might be laughing.
“Your mom told me that the Frick was going to be her last big adventure for a while. I don’t think she ever intended to give it all up for good. But once she had you, she wanted to make sure that she would always be there if you needed her. I was so touched by the sacrifice that I sat down that night and started writing the first Glenn Street book. If she couldn’t have her adventures in real life, at least she could read about them on the page.”
Randi tried to brush her tears away. “Dad, why didn’t you . . . ?”
“I know I should have told you this earlier,” he said. “I guess it was just too hard for me to talk ab
out. You lost your mother, Randi, and I lost the love of my life.”
Randi had often wondered if her father’s true love had been Glenn Street. She’d imagined her mom having to compete with the character for her husband’s attention. Now she realized that the two women had been one and the same.
“I know you think that I should have spent more time at home while your mom was alive,” Herb continued. “And you’re right. But you have to understand that Olivia-Kay was always with me—even when I was writing or away on a tour. She knew that, Randi. She knew that every book I wrote was a love letter to her.”
Just like her dad’s new book was a love letter to her, Randi realized. She wrapped her arms around her dad and squeezed him with all her might.
“There’s something else,” Herb said. “I spoke to your aunt. She told me that you’re welcome to live in New York with her if you’d like. I moved us down to Deer Creek to be closer to your mom. I know her grave is here, but her spirit is down there. But I’m starting to realize that it might not have been the best thing for the two of us. I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you back. You’re just like your mother, Randi. If I’d tried to control her, I would have ended up losing her. So I’m going to let you make this decision. What do you want to do?”
“I want to go home,” Randi told him.
“Is home here in Brooklyn or in east Tennessee?”
“Home is wherever you are,” Randi told her dad.
* * *
Go to Appendix G to complete the Ninja Task!
* * *
CHAPTER NINETEEN
* * *
THE MOVIE STAR
“Can I have your autograph?” A pack of fourth graders had surrounded D.C., and one of them was holding out a small notebook and pen. The local television channel had just run a segment about D.C.’s role in the upcoming martial arts movie The Littlest Warrior, and the town of Deer Creek was buzzing with the news.
D.C. signed the first page of the notebook and handed it back to the kid.
“Mine too!” cried another boy.
“So how does it feel being a bona-fide movie star?” Randi asked D.C.
“Pretty darn good,” the boy replied. “My dad even heard about it somehow. He called me last night to congratulate me.”
“And you talked to him?” Randi asked. “After the way he behaved when you were in Brooklyn?”
“Sure,” D.C. said with a shrug. “Jake says holding grudges is a waste of energy.”
“Maybe Jake should have a word with Amber-Grace,” Randi said. She’d spotted the bottle-blonde lurking in the hallway ahead. As always, her band of overdressed girls was by her side. “Looks like our absence hasn’t made her heart grow any fonder.”
There was no avoiding them. The girls were blocking the hall that led to Randi and D.C.’s next class. The bell rang and the kids surrounding D.C. scattered. Amber-Grace and her posse didn’t budge.
“How about that? It’s the motherless Yankee and her sissy friend,” Amber-Grace sneered as they drew closer. “If you guys were smart, you’d have stayed in New York City.”
“You’re not welcome here in Tennessee,” said one of her friends.
“Oh yeah?” D.C. asked. “Looks to me like you’re the only ones in the school who feel that way.”
“You sure about that? I heard that your own daddy doesn’t even want you around, Dario Cruz,” Amber-Grace said. “And your mama probably jumped off a bridge just to get away from you, Randi Rhodes.”
Once, the mention of her mother’s death would have left Randi reeling. But Amber-Grace’s words couldn’t wound her the way they used to.
“You know, Amber-Grace, you’re going to get yourself into a whole lotta trouble talking like that,” Randi said in a calm, clear voice.
“Oh yeah?” the older girl replied. “Does it make you feel like punching me? Come on, Yankee. Get yourself thrown out of school.”
Randi looked over at D.C. and grinned. “Does it make you feel like punching her?”
“Nope,” said D.C., playing along.
“Me either,” Randi agreed. “But you know what it does make me feel like doing, D.C.? It makes me feel like keeping really close tabs on Amber-Grace here. If she insists on harassing us, we should probably get to know her a bit better. I’ve always wondered what sort of stuff she does after school. Or when she’s out with her friends. Or on a date with Stevie. I think we should start keeping a file on her, don’t you?”
“You’re talking about spying on me?” Amber-Grace snarled.
“Oh man,” D.C. chipped in, ignoring the girl. “I bet we’d come up with some amazing stuff.”
“And we could take pictures and film videos of her being nasty to people,” Randi added. “And put them on the Internet so her parents and everyone at school could enjoy them.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Amber-Grace spat.
“Oh, I would,” Randi assured her. She pulled out her cell phone. “In fact, I’ve already started. This whole conversation has been recorded. I can think of a few people who might find it very interesting, can’t you, D.C.?”
“Yup,” D.C. said. “Should we post it on Facebook?”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Amber-Grace darted forward to smack the phone out of Randi’s hand. But D.C.’s reflexes were lightning fast. He caught the girl’s wrist and held it tight.
“Careful, Amber-Grace,” Randi warned. “I hear this school has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to violence.”
D.C. let the girl go, and Randi held up her phone. “You’re on video now. Anything you’d like to say for the camera?”
Amber-Grace hid her face with one hand. Her friends followed suit. “This isn’t over,” Amber-Grace growled through her fingers. “Let’s go, girls,” she ordered, and she and her posse stomped off down the hall.
“Nice work,” D.C. told Randi.
“You too. For a moment there, I was worried we might need backup. And speaking of backup, where’s Pudge?” Randi asked.
“Skipping school,” D.C. told her. “He went fishing with his dad. But he said he and his sisters will be at your house for the premiere tonight.”
For a moment, it felt like the entire world had been turned upside down. “Colonel Taylor took Pudge fishing on a school day?”
“Yup,” said D.C. “I guess Pudge had his hands full with those three girls on the ride back from New York. The colonel told Pudge that they needed to spend more time together alone.”
“Wow,” Randi said. “Who’d have thought it would take only one long weekend to turn you into a movie star and Pudge into a hooky-playing delinquent?”
“And what about you?” D.C. asked with a laugh.
“Me?” Randi said innocently. “I’m just an ordinary Deer Creek kid.”
~ ~ ~ ~
That night, eleven people took their seats in the Rhodeses’ living room to enjoy a feast and a movie. Jake Jessop had sent tapes of D.C.’s scenes in The Littlest Warrior. And Mei-Ling, Herb Rhodes, and Mrs. Taylor had fried up the fish that Pudge and his father had caught.
“So when do we get to watch your whole film?” Colonel Taylor asked D.C.
“Yeah, when?” Maya and Laeleah chimed in. Pudge’s twin sisters had become D.C.’s biggest fans.
“Jake said it should be done before Christmas,” D.C. told them.
“He and Gigi promised to bring a copy when they come to visit for New Year’s,” Herb Rhodes added.
“I can’t wait to meet them,” D.C.’s mother said. She grabbed D.C. and pulled her son into a hug. “And I don’t even know how I’ll possibly thank them.”
“Whatever you do, don’t bake a pie,” Pudge said with a queasy look on his face.
Randi laughed and dropped onto the couch next to Mei-Ling.
The older woman wrapped her arm around Randi and squeezed. “Does this mean you’re back for good?” she whispered.
Randi put her head on Mei-Ling’s shoulder. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” Randi told
her.
* * *
NINJA TASKS
* * *
Now that you’ve helped to solve another mystery, you can try all these experiments at home. Find a partner—recruit Mom and Dad, Gram or Gramps, or invite your best friend over. Follow the evidence and enjoy the fun!
* * *
APPENDIX A:
* * *
DISAPPEAR IN THE DARK
Things You’ll Need:
• Dark—not black—clothing
• Soft-soled shoes
• Patience
What to Do:
» CHOOSE your clothing carefully. Black clothing isn’t ideal for hiding in the dark—and it could make you seem suspicious. A dark gray sweat suit may be the best option. Not only will it allow you to hide in the shadows, but if you’re caught, you can always claim you were out for a jog.
» CAMOUFLAGE yourself when possible. No one ever looks twice at a pile of leaves.
» WEAR soft-soled shoes. The more you can feel the soles of your feet, the easier it will be to avoid making noise as you walk.
» HONE your night vision. Spend twenty minutes allowing your eyes to get used to the dark. And when you leave, don’t bring your phone! One look at the screen can ruin your night vision.
» STAY as still as possible. The human eye is very sensitive to movement. The less you move, the less likely you are to be seen. If you can’t stay still, stay low to the ground.
» PLAN a diversion in advance. In case you’re about to be spotted, have a plan that will draw attention away from you.
» PRACTICE moving silently and “vanishing.” Try sneaking up on your parents—or watching your siblings from the shadows.
* * *
The Sweetest Heist in History Page 13
