Death by Dinosaur: A Sam Stellar Mystery

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Death by Dinosaur: A Sam Stellar Mystery Page 4

by Jacqueline Guest


  “Oh man, that sucks, big time!” Sam groaned. Dr. Feldman could not have been involved in any of this. Maybe she’d copied it down wrong, or the tracing wasn’t clear. She shoved the slip of paper into her back pocket. Her best lead was gone… big time!

  The rest of lunch was spent discussing what a dish Jackson Lunde was. Sam listened as Paige gave a detailed list of when he should ask her out, where he should take her, what she should wear and why the difference in their ages didn’t matter…much.

  •••

  Jackson was hard at work on a fresh crate when Sam returned.

  “Hey Gopher, you’re back early.” He put his hammer down and yanked on a stubborn board.

  “I thought I’d redo the vertebrae count before Professor Caine gets here. Not that I ever mess up, but hey, there’s always a first time.” Her casual laugh sounded a little nervous. She didn’t want to admit to Jackson that she was the tiniest bit worried she was blowing this all out of proportion. After all, what did she really know? And relying on a strange feeling would hardly stand up in a court of law. “Did you talk to the professor about our extra bone?”

  “Yes, I told him about the chunk of plaster before I went to lunch.”

  Something in Jackson’s voice alerted Sam. “What’s the matter?”

  He hesitated only a moment, still it was enough to tell Sam he was not on her team. “Professor Caine was upset that you’d touched those fossils. He thought you might have mixed something up.”

  They both stopped talking as the professor hurried in. “Jackson, you said Samantha had discovered an extra vertebra for our dinosaur.” He turned to Samantha. “Please show it to me now.”

  “Yes sir. It’s right over here,” Sam said with as much confidence as she could turn on. “It’s beside the other fossils I’ve already put in numerical order.”

  She went to the work table where she’d left the bone.

  It was gone.

  Sam quickly scanned the carefully arranged pieces to make sure it hadn’t been moved in among them. “I left it right here. Um…unbelievably, it seems to have disappeared.” She turned to Jackson. “Did you see it?”

  Jackson shook his head. “I got back from lunch a couple of minutes before you and started on this crate.”

  “Are you sure it belonged with the vertebrae group? Perhaps it’s been put with another section.” Professor Caine motioned to the entire room in case it may have teleported to some other part of the dino’s skeleton.

  “Although it was still encased in the plaster shipping jacket, it, it was the right size and shape to be a vertebra,” Sam stammered.

  Professor Caine inspected the neatly arranged display on the table, then went through the sheets Sam had used to set out the jumble of fossils and compared the numbers against the ones on the shipping jackets. When he’d finished, he shook his head. “Everything seems to be in order. Nothing amiss. You did a thorough job arranging these pieces. I’m actually impressed with your attention to detail, Samantha.” His gruff tone relaxed. “If you’re so sure the piece was an actual bone, I suggest you try to find it while Jackson and I continue unpacking the rest of the shipment. Perhaps it will show up.”

  Sam had the distinct feeling the professor didn’t believe the piece was a bone at all. Jackson must have told him that it was merely a random piece of broken plaster.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon scouring every inch of both rooms. Frustratingly, by the end of the day the mysterious X piece still hadn’t reappeared. She decided there was only one logical explanation.

  While she and Jackson were at lunch, someone had stolen it.

  It was exactly like the newspaper articles on the other museum thefts. They’d said odd pieces were removed, not entire shipments. With a shiver of excitement and her weirdometer registering nine on the Richter scale, Sam realized her case was developing rapidly.

  The peculiar thing about this theft was that the piece stolen was still in its plaster of Paris wrapper. Whoever took it knew what it was and didn’t need to wait for the jacket to be broken off. That must have been why it was marked with only the X.

  Why that piece? One chunk of a dino, even an exotic imported dino, wasn’t much good to anyone, unless… Sam remembered what Jackson had said about the uniqueness of this find. What if it was the proof that this type of dinosaur was the missing link with a North American species? If someone had the proof of that connection, it would be a very important chunk o’ dino, indeed.

  Professor Caine didn’t seem the least bit worried that a potentially vital piece was missing. Sam decided his casual attitude must have to do with the way Jackson had treated the whole thing. Of course, the professor would listen to Jackson before her. She was, after all, only the gopher!

  It was late in the afternoon when Professor Caine gathered up his paperwork and walked over to Jackson and Sam. “I’m going to finish this in my office. How’s the rest of the uncrating progressing? Any more phantom pieces?” he asked Jackson with an obvious note of disbelief.

  Jackson shook his head. “Professor, I know Sam believes the missing piece was a real fossil, but it was oddly shaped and not marked properly. It resembled a broken fragment of a shipping jacket more than anything else.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jackson.” Sam knew she sounded snotty and tried to dial it down. “Despite what you think, I’m sure it was the real deal.”

  “Samantha, I appreciate your concern that a specimen might be missing,” Professor Caine said in a reassuring tone. “As a safeguard, Jackson and I have both gone over the manifest several times and also the import documents. According to those papers, all the pieces are here and accounted for.”

  Sam couldn’t explain it. “If it was simply an extra piece of plaster, why did it have an X on it? Someone marked it for a reason.” She could see neither of them believed that her find had been a real fossil.

  Professor Caine noted the time on his watch. “It’s late, and we’re all tired. Let’s call it a day.”

  Sam wanted to continue arguing her case, but knew when she was beat. Without another word, she reluctantly packed up her tools and then left.

  •••

  Paige was leaning against Jackson’s pickup when Sam came out of the building. “How goes the bone business?”

  “Terrible!” Sam shook her head. “Remember I told you about the piece with the X on it?”

  “Yeah, the spare spine.” Paige secured an errant lock of carrot-orange hair behind her ear.

  Sam dropped her bombshell. “It disappeared over lunch.”

  Paige’s head whipped around, sending the carefully tucked hair swirling like a fiery halo. “No way!”

  “It’s true. Jackson told the prof he saw something, then he said he thought it was probably a piece of broken plaster. Professor Caine thinks I have a faulty hard drive. As if! I know there was something inside that jacket. I heard it.” She jerked the truck’s tailgate down and sat on it. “I’m sure we won’t find the piece because I know what happened to it.” She took a breath and delivered her decision. “Someone stole it.”

  “Sam, you sound totally crazy. Why would anyone steal a chunk of junk?”

  This was one reason Sam never worried about her cousin being sucked into some wacko cult. There was no way they could get her to switch to the dark side. Sceptical was Paige’s middle name.

  “It was not junk, cousin. Whatever was inside the jacket was important. Important enough for someone to sneak in at lunchtime, when no one was around, and steal it.” Sam swung her legs back and forth agitatedly. “What other explanation is there? It was on the table before lunch; it had disappeared after lunch.”

  “Maybe it fell into the garbage.” Paige hopped up beside her cousin. “And some hyper-efficient soul threw it out with the trash.”

  Sam shook her head adamantly. “No, I made sure everything was clean where I was working. There wasn’t a garbage bin anywhere near the table.” Suddenly, she grabbed Paige’s arm. “O…M�
��G, to use an old expression!”

  “What? What!” Paige squealed.

  Sam pointed.

  Walking quickly across the far side of the visitor’s parking lot was a tall, dark-haired man she recognized. “It’s Agent D!”

  Chapter 6

  Man in the Mist

  The next morning Sam was still mulling over Agent D leaving the museum scant minutes, okay, to be picky about it, several hours, after the mystery bone had gone missing.

  The list of mega-coincidences in this case was long and, to Sam, there were simply too many to ignore: Agent D recently arriving in Drumheller and speaking Spanish – the national language of Colombia; Jackson going to Colombia to deal with this shipment and speaking Spanish (how convenient he was there to arrange the shipping of all these bones and could fluently explain to the Colombian bone dudes why he needed to add a piece to the shipment); this being the one shipment where a dino bone went missing. All of these pieces were connected, and Sam was going to find out how and why.

  She was finishing breakfast when Jackson hurried into the dining room. “Ah, Gopher.”

  Sam placed her empty teacup carefully in the delicate china saucer. “That’s me.”

  “I’ve got a seven o’clock appointment and won’t be able to give you and Paige a ride to work this morning. Can you make it by yourselves?”

  “Sure, Mrs. O’Reilly said she has two bicycles we can use, and the ride will do us good. Will you be coming in at all?” Sam was more than a little curious.

  “Yes, but for how much longer, I don’t know,” he replied distractedly as he searched for the truck keys, patting his jacket, pants and shirt pockets.

  Jackson’s cryptic answer needed more explaining. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jackson withdrew his keys from his back pocket. “What? Oh, I mean, of course I’ll be in later.” He checked the time on his phone. “I’ve got to fly. Catch you later, Gopher.”

  Sam watched him hurry out the back door. Seven o’clock was a truly gross hour for a meeting. As she cleared away her dishes and prepared for the inevitable wait for her cousin, she wondered at the interesting bit of information Jackson had dropped. What was with the crack about not knowing how much longer he’d be coming to work?

  •••

  The ride to the museum on Mrs. O’Reilly’s ancient bicycles would be a challenge. The two-wheeled wonders were made out of steel and weighed a ton.

  Paige saw their transportation and groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding! They don’t even have gears!”

  “Think of the great shape we’ll be in by the end of summer.” For a change, it was Sam’s turn to keep a positive spin on things, even though it was going to be tough. She bent over and tightened the laces on her Vans. Getting her sneaker laces tangled in that nasty chain wouldn’t do her, or the bike, any good.

  “They must have cabs here. We can call a cab,” Paige offered by way of a solution.

  She was so hopeful, even Sam gave it some serious consideration. “One tiny problem. Neither of us has the money to pay for one without busting our budgets. So let’s ride, girlfriend.”

  Backpacks strapped on, the two girls started the long commute to the museum. The day was bright and sunny, the air fresh, and by the time they arrived, laughing and wheezing, both decided it hadn’t been that bad, in a health-nut sort of way.

  •••

  Sam was busily ripping crates apart when Jackson finally arrived at morning coffee break.

  “Hey, about time you showed up,” she teased. “How was your meeting with what’s-his-name down at the…” She screwed her face up as though trying to remember something that was on the tip of her tongue.

  “Oh, that. No problem,” Jackson answered without giving up any information. “Anyway, it’s a boss’s prerogative to show up late and since I’m sort of your boss, I’m taking advantage of that workplace rule.”

  “Hmmm, my boss, huh? I’d say you are definitely bossy. Oh yeah, totally bossy,” she teased back.

  Jackson’s tone became surprisingly stern. “This is the most important project I’ve ever worked on and Professor Caine is counting on me to make sure there are no screw-ups.” Then, without another word, he picked up his hammer and started dismantling a nearby crate.

  Sam was taken aback at Jackson’s abrupt change, then she cut him some slack. He was right. This was a big deal, and she felt privileged to be in on it.

  •••

  Samantha decided to stay out of Jackson’s way, which turned out to be a smart choice, as he was snarly to everyone. She wondered if it had anything to do with his early morning meeting. At lunch, she left for the computer department to find Paige.

  “Are you nearly through? I thought we could snoop around the exhibits now and eat later.” Sam hoped her cousin wouldn’t waste this opportunity to tour the museum.

  Paige added one last card to the stack she was working on. “As a matter of fact, you’re in luck. Done.” She hit a key with an authoritative stroke.

  Sam rubbed the top of the terminal thoughtfully. “Paige, can you tap into other areas besides the dino catalogues from here?”

  “Yeah, I suppose, if I had the right password or access codes.” Then she added suspiciously, “Why?”

  Sam shrugged her slim shoulders. “Oh, no reason. I simply wondered what kind of wizardry you could perform on your magic box.” She patted the CPU. “If you wanted to be a real pal, you could make a quick note of any codes that pop up.”

  Paige wasn’t buying it, Sam could tell. “Not that I’m planning anything. Call it a quirk. When I’m on a case, I gather as much information as possible, whether or not it seems relevant at that particular moment.”

  Paige narrowed her fuchsia-mascaraed lashes. “Brilliant strategy, except for a minor detail. You’re not on a case; you are a case!” Before Sam could continue, Paige scrunched up her face in a look of total pain…or disgust. “Okay, okay, enough with the drama queen stuff. You win. I’ll gather never-to-be-used, unneeded codes, and I want it on my permanent record – I’m the best cousin on the planet and a total superstar. Now, let’s go peruse those exhibits.”

  The two girls decided to make their way to the Cretaceous Garden Palaeoconservatory where present-day plants, similar to prehistoric ones, were grown in a giant glass atrium. To get there, they had to cut through the huge dinosaur exhibition hall. It was something to see, and they marvelled at the realistic dioramas and giant skeletons of fossilized dinosaurs. The reconstructed dinos were arranged as they would have been in life, standing over a kill, or guarding their eggs. Sam shuddered when she saw the size of the teeth and the killing claws capable of tearing through flesh with ease. There were lots of interactive exhibits to educate visitors in a fun way, and many were specifically geared to kids, making it very family friendly.

  Finally, they arrived at the Cretaceous Garden and eagerly pushed through the glass doors. “I can’t believe the size of these tree ferns!” Sam hooted as they entered the humid green space. “And the ivies and trailing moss are like a jungle.”

  Paige was busy reading a label beneath one of the plants. “Sapotacea. Hey, it says sixty-nine-million-year-old fossil pollen from this plant has been found everywhere in the world except Antarctica. Its modern counterpart gives us chicle, which is used in chewing gum. At last – evolution I can relate to!”

  As they continued wandering through the large exhibit, Sam had the creepy sensation someone was walking over her grave. She was sure she was being watched. This was one spy skill she’d spent a lot of time honing. Gordon Craig, class nerd, used to sit staring at her in Language Arts and she always knew when he was doing it. Sometimes the feeling was so strong that the hairs in her nose would stand up, and she’d have to sneeze. Sam cautiously peered around. Nothing and no one.

  A fine mist started to fall ensuring a high humidity level for the plants. Through the mini-monsoon, Sam caught a glimpse of a dark figure in a trench coat and black hat nearly hidden by the den
se foliage. She blinked, refocussing, but he’d disappeared.

  “Did you see him?” Sam whispered urgently.

  “See who?” Paige grumbled as she held her purse over her head trying to deflect the tiny droplets. “If this downpour doesn’t let up, my hair is going to self-destruct. Do they need to make it quite so realistic?” She stood under a screw pine tree until the mist let up. “Honestly, who expects it to rain inside a building?”

  “There’s someone watching us. I’m sure we’re being followed.” Sam quickly scanned for the exits, mentally planning escape routes.

  “I told you, Sam – no more insane Spy School stuff! It gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Paige shook the excess water off her faux-croc purse.

  “I’m not kidding. Come on, we’ll hide behind that fat sago palm and find out who it is when he passes us.” She hurried Paige to the bushy plant that would offer them cover.

  The minutes ticked by as the two girls waited impatiently. No one materialised. Carefully, Sam peered around the edge of the palm, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mystery man.

  Finally, Paige could stand the waiting no longer. “Sam, there’s no one following us. Your over-active imagination has OD’d again.” She stalked toward the nearest exit, mumbling to herself as she went. “First secret messages in phone booths, then shadowy figures in the ferns. What next? Microphones in the lampshades?”

  Sam was sure of what she’d seen. It had been someone tall, dark and, unless she was mistaken, South American. She ran to catch up with Paige. “I’ve got an idea who it was. Don’t go all freaky on me, Paige. I think it was Agent D!”

  Her cousin sighed in a way disturbingly like Sam’s mother when she was completely out of patience. With the reminder of home Sam felt a fleeting stab of guilt. She’d promised her parents that she would play it safe and stay out of trouble if they let her go to Drumheller. Guilt was definitely not her thing, and besides, she wasn’t in trouble – yet. Sam cut her cousin off before she could say anything. “I know you’re revving up to lecture me on that ‘no more secret agent stuff’. First, let me tell you something. The morning after we arrived, I was on my way to call the phone number I procured at the bus depot, when Jackson stopped me. He told me museo is Spanish for museum and the number was a local for one of the employees here.”

 

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