The Mystery of Case D. Luc
Page 1
Beverly Lewis Books for Young Readers
PICTURE BOOKS
In Jesse’s Shoes • Just Like Mama
What Is God Like? • What Is Heaven Like?
THE CUL-DE-SAC KIDS
The Double Dabble Surprise
The Chicken Pox Panic
The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery
No Grown-ups Allowed
Frog Power
The Mystery of Case D. Luc
The Stinky Sneakers Mystery
Pickle Pizza
Mailbox Mania
The Mudhole Mystery
Fiddlesticks
The Crabby Cat Caper
Tarantula Toes
Green Gravy
Backyard Bandit Mystery
Tree House Trouble
The Creepy Sleep-Over
The Great TV Turn-Off
Piggy Party
The Granny Game
Mystery Mutt
Big Bad Beans
The Upside-Down Day
The Midnight Mystery
Katie and Jake and the Haircut Mistake
www.BeverlyLewis.com
The Mystery of Case D. Luc
Copyright © 1995
Beverly Lewis
Cover illustration by Paul Turnbaugh
Story illustrations by Barbara Birch
Ebook edition created 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6069-7
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
To Carole Billingsley,
who solves word puzzles
faster than warp speed.
Well, almost.
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About the Author
The Cul-de-sac Kids Series
Back Cover
ONE
Dunkum dribbled his new basketball up the driveway. The basketball was very special. David Robinson, his hero, had signed it! David Robinson wasn’t just any basketball star, he was a Christian, too.
Jason Birchall and Eric Hagel flew into Dunkum’s yard on their bikes. They skidded to a stop.
Jason dropped his bike onto the grass. “Hey, Dunk, let’s ride,” he called.
“Not today,” Dunkum said. He aimed his ball at the net and shot. Whoosh! It slipped right through.
“Aw, come on,” Eric begged. But Dunkum ignored them and kept shooting baskets.
Soon, Abby Hunter and her little sister Carly showed up. “Hi, Dunkum,” Abby said. “Do you have time to talk about the April Fool’s Day party?”
Dunkum dribbled the ball under his leg. “Not now.” He shot the ball up over his shoulder. It bounced off the backboard. In!
“Good shot, now let’s go,” Jason said.
Stacy Henry, Abby’s best friend, came down the sidewalk. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Hi, Stacy,” Abby said. “I’m trying to talk to Dunkum about the party next week.”
Dunkum stopped shooting baskets. “Sorry, Abby. I have to keep practicing.”
“But you practice all the time,” Eric said.
Carly giggled. “If you don’t watch out, you’ll turn into a basketball!”
“Eric’s right,” Stacy said. “All you ever do is shoot baskets. What about us?”
Dunkum ran between Abby and Carly and shot the ball. It spun off the rim and he chased after it.
“Stop bouncing that silly basketball,” Carly said.
Dunkum froze like a statue. “What did you say?”
Jason and Eric began hooting like owls. Eric laughed so hard, his bike toppled over.
Dunkum glared at Carly. “Nobody calls my basketball silly! David Robinson wrote his name right here!” He held the ball up for them to see.
Abby shot him a sour look. “Your basketball isn’t silly. You are!”
“Oh, yeah?” Dunkum felt the back of his neck getting warm.
Stacy walked up to him. “We can’t plan our April Fool’s Day party because of you. You’re too busy with this!” She tapped on his basketball.
Dunkum swung the ball away from her. “Then plan it without me,” he said. “I don’t care.”
“But we always have our meetings at your house,” Abby said. She was the president of the Cul-de-sac Kids—nine kids on Blossom Hill Lane.
Dunkum dodged Abby, then leaped up and shot. Missed! “Go have your silly meeting somewhere else,” he said.
Abby frowned. “Please, Dunkum. Just talk to us!”
“Not today,” Dunkum said. “I’m busy.”
Jason whistled. “That’s what he always says!”
“Do not,” Dunkum muttered.
“Uh-huh!” Eric shouted. “Maybe you want to drop out of the Cul-de-sac Kids. Is that it?”
Abby frowned. “No, we stick together around here, remember?”
Dunkum didn’t care about sticking together. His basketball was more important. He spun the ball on his pointer finger. “I’m going inside,” he said, then ran into the house.
Dunkum never even looked back at the Cul-de-sac Kids. Not even once.
TWO
In his room, Dunkum placed the ball on his dresser—in front of the mirror. He sat on his bed and stared. Maybe this ball will make me a great player, he thought. Maybe I’ll be as famous as David Robinson!
Suddenly, he dashed to the window and pushed the curtains back. Abby and Carly were gone. So were Jason and Eric. Dunkum almost wished his friends were still waiting in the driveway.
But then he remembered the girls. They had made fun of his fantastic basketball. Rats! thought Dunkum. Who needs them.
Later, at bedtime, Dunkum read his Sunday school lesson. The verses were in Matthew 6. “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth . . . where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven. . . .”
Dunkum went to his dresser and reached for his basketball. “Maybe it’s okay to store up just one treasure on earth,” he whispered.
Then he carried the ball to bed and pushed it down between the sheets. Dunkum crawled into bed beside it.
In the darkness, he thought about Abby and Carly Hunter. And Stacy Henry. How dare they call his basketball silly?
Reaching over, Dunkum felt the hard, round surface next to him. No thief was going to steal his treasure! Soon he fell asleep with his arm around the giant lump.
Dunkum kicked the covers off. It was Sunday morning. His basketball was still in bed with him. The Cul-de-sac Kids would die laughing, but he didn’t care.
He showered and dressed for church. Then he hurried to the kitchen. “Mm-m, eggs smell good,” he told his mother.
His dad passed
the salt for the scrambled eggs. Then he held up the crossword puzzle in the paper. “Can you solve this?” his dad asked.
“Looks tough,” Dunkum said, studying it.
“Not for your dad,” his mother said.
Dunkum nodded. It was true, his dad could solve anything. Especially word puzzles.
Before Dunkum ate a single bite, he prayed. He wished his parents would pray with him. He wished they would go to church, too. Sometimes it was lonely being a Christian.
Not long ago, Abby Hunter and her family were the only ones on Blossom Hill Lane who attended church. Now all the Cul-de-sac Kids were going. God’s love was catching. And Abby’s van was getting crowded with kids—including Dunkum.
After brushing his teeth, Dunkum dashed upstairs to get his Sunday school lesson and Bible. The memory verse was easy. Let’s see, thought Dunkum. There was a treasure on earth and a thief stole it. And there was a heavenly treasure and no thief could snatch it!
Before he left for church, Dunkum hid his basketball in the closet. He closed the door. Now his treasure would be safe. As safe as the heavenly treasure in the Bible.
THREE
Dunkum hurried to Abby’s house. The Cul-de-sac Kids piled into the van. All but Dee Dee Winters.
“Where’s Dee Dee?” Dunkum asked.
“Her cat is sick,” Carly replied.
“That’s strange. I saw her cat outside yesterday,” Dunkum said.
“Maybe Mister Whiskers ate one of Dee Dee’s cookies,” Jason teased.
Carly stuck up for her friend. “Dee Dee’s cookies are the best in the world!”
“Seat belts, everyone,” Abby’s father said before starting the van.
After church, Abby’s van pulled back into their driveway. She grabbed Dunkum’s arm as they climbed out of the van. “We’re having a club meeting. Right now! Before you start practicing your shots again.”
“Make it quick,” Dunkum said. His thoughts were on his new basketball.
Abby called the rest of the kids. They gathered in a circle on her porch. “Next Friday is April Fool’s Day. I’m having a party after school,” she said. “For all the Cul-de-sac Kids.”
“Where?” Stacy asked.
“Let’s have it outside,” Eric suggested.
“At the end of the cul-de-sac,” Carly said.
“Yes!” said Shawn, Abby’s adopted Korean brother. “Beside big oak tree.”
Jason Birchall danced a jig. “What’s to eat?”
Abby’s eyes twinkled. She pulled a list out of her Sunday purse. “Here’s the menu. Remember, it’s an April Fool’s Day party.” She began to read. “First we’ll have ants on a log.”
“Ants?” squealed Carly. “I’m not eating ants!”
“Next is silly dillies,” said Abby, laughing.
“I know what that is,” Jason said.
“Don’t tell.” Abby continued, “Number three is garden popsicles.”
“Mm-m,” said Eric. “Sounds good.”
Stacy held her hands over her ears. “Don’t tell me, I want to be surprised.”
“Next,” said Abby. “We’ll have jitter blocks.”
Carly giggled. “Must be something wiggly.”
“Last of all, we’ll have sweet hearts,” Abby said.
Dunkum frowned. “I thought it was an April Fool’s Day party, not a Valentine party.”
“Who cares,” said Jason. “Sweets are good any day.”
“You better stay away from them,” said Dunkum. “Remember Valentine’s Day, when you pigged out on chocolates?”
Jason groaned and held his stomach. He remembered.
“Hey, Abby, what are jitter blocks?” Dunkum asked.
Abby smiled. “April Fool’s Day food, that’s what.”
Jason and Eric poked each other, laughing.
Jimmy Hunter, Abby’s little Korean brother, tugged on the list. “I not like that American food.”
Abby hugged him. “It’s just for fun,” she said. “You’ll see.”
Stacy grinned. “What will we do at the party besides eat strange food?”
Dunkum had an idea. “We could play basketball.”
The kids groaned.
“Not that again!” Carly shouted.
“Then I’m not coming,” Dunkum said. And he leaped off the porch and headed home.
FOUR
Dunkum’s friends called to him, but he kept running. He was sick of planning parties. He was dying to practice basketball.
As he turned toward his house, he heard Dee Dee Winters calling. She lived across the street.
Dunkum spun around. “What do you want?” he grumbled.
“Come over here,” she called from her front door.
Dunkum stomped across the street.
Dee Dee was holding her sick cat. “Did you get me a Sunday school paper?”
“I’m not in your class,” Dunkum replied.
“Well, I got one for you when you were sick. That’s what friends are supposed to do.” Then she asked, “What was your memory verse today?”
“It was two verses, Matthew 6:19 and 20,” Dunkum said. “Read it for yourself.”
“I already did,” Dee Dee answered.
Dunkum shook his head. “Then why did you ask me?”
She grinned. “Just checking.”
Dee Dee’s as sick as her cat, thought Dunkum. He stormed down the steps and dashed across the street. Ka-bang! Dunkum slammed his front door.
Upstairs, he ran to his room and threw open the closet door. He reached for his basketball. It was gone!
Dunkum searched the back of the closet. He looked behind his overnight bag.
“Mom! Dad!” Dunkum called. He ran downstairs, darting in and out of the kitchen. He checked the family room. The house was empty.
Then he remembered. The front door was unlocked when he came in. “That’s it! A thief walked right into my house and stole my basketball!”
Dunkum didn’t bother to check if anything else was missing. He could think of only one thing—his basketball.
Running back upstairs, Dunkum searched everywhere. He looked under his bed. Nothing.
He looked in the hamper. Nope.
He even looked behind the shower curtain. But his ball was nowhere to be found.
Dunkum fell on his bed. The lump in his throat grew and grew. He could hardly swallow. When he did, tears filled his eyes. But he squeezed his eyes shut and wiped the tears away.
He got up and marched downstairs, wondering where his parents were. Looking on the counter, Dunkum spotted a note.
Dear Dunkum,
We’ll be back in a jiffy. We went to get fried chicken. I hope you’re hungry!
Love ya,
Mom
P.S. I left the front door open. I guess you figured that out.
Dunkum put the note back on the counter. He stared out the kitchen window. “The thief might still be out there,” he whispered.
He almost wished that rotten thief was lurking nearby. Dunkum would sneak up behind him. And grab his basketball right back!
FIVE
Dunkum leaned closer to the window. He watched for the slightest movement in his backyard. But no one was hiding in the bushes.
Then Dunkum had an idea. He would call Dee Dee Winters. She might know something. After all, she had the best view of his house. And . . . she had stayed home from church.
Dee Dee answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Have you seen anybody hanging around my house today?” Dunkum asked.
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” Dee Dee said.
“Well, you better lock your doors.”
“How come?”
“Because there’s a thief in the cul-de-sac.”
Dee Dee gasped. “A thief! That’s horrible!”
“Yes, and he robbed my house while we were at church,” he said. “I better warn the rest of the kids.” Dunkum said goodbye and hung up the
phone.
Next, he called Jason, who lived next door to Dee Dee.
Br-r-ring!
“Hello?” Jason answered.
“Hey, Jason, you’d better keep your doors locked. There’s a thief in the cul-de-sac.”
“A what?” Jason yelled into the phone.
“A thief,” Dunkum said. “And he just left my house!”
“How do you know?” Jason asked.
“He stole my new basketball,” Dunkum said. “The one my uncle got for me from David Robinson.”
Jason started laughing.
“Hey! It’s not funny,” Dunkum said.
“I know, I know,” Jason said. “It’s just so weird.”
“How could the thief know where I hid it?” Dunkum said.
“It’s real creepy,” Jason whispered. Then he paused. “Hey, wait! I’m looking out my window. There’s something blue stuck on your basketball pole.”
Dunkum dropped the phone and ran outside. Jason was right! Dunkum peeled the blue paper off the pole. A bunch of dots and lines scampered across the page.
It looked like a secret code.
Who put it here? Dunkum wondered.
Then he saw a strange name at the bottom. Someone had signed it: CASE D. LUC.
“That’s weird,” Dunkum said out loud. “I don’t know anyone by that name.” He stared at the blue paper. There was some writing at the top. It said: IF YOU WANT YOUR BASKETBALL BACK, CRACK THIS CODE.
Dunkum stomped his foot. “Nothin’s gonna stop me from getting my basketball back!” he shouted.
SIX
Dunkum saw Jason coming across the street. “Look at this!” Dunkum shouted. He waved the blue paper at his friend.
Jason pushed up his glasses and looked at the code. “I think it’s the Morse Code.”
Dunkum scratched his head. He studied the name at the bottom. “Who in the world is Case D. Luc?”
“This is crazy,” Jason said.
“Can you help me crack the code?” Dunkum asked.
Jason shook his head. He had to go home for dinner. “Look in your encyclopedia,” he called over his shoulder.
Rushing inside, Dunkum grabbed the encyclopedia. He found the page with the Morse alphabet:
Dunkum studied the dots and dashes on the blue paper. (Can you crack the code before Dunkum does?)