“So that’s what you meant by ‘working on a case.’ Rather a thin one, isn’t it?” Paige flashed Sam her you’ve-got-to-be-out-of-your-mind look. “Some guy you see on a crowded bus, who may or may not have had a concealed hairbrush, writes down the phone number for a world-famous and wildly popular tourist attraction, and you turn it into a spy-vs.-spy thriller.”
“He was a stranger here, and he wrote down the number for a specific individual at the museum, like you or me or Jackson.”
“Right, Dick Tracey.” Paige crossed her arms. “May I remind you we do not have a private phone number at the museum and it’s not only Jack who does. Every permanent employee who’s assigned to a specific section, people like Doctor Beech and Professor Caine and the janitor dude who cleans the washrooms, has a number. Besides, Jack didn’t say it was his number did he?” She pushed through the exit doors of the Palaeoconservatory.
“No-o-o-o…” Sam drew out the word trying to think of a better comeback. The more she thought about the part Jackson had in this, the more her weirdometer went off. “Don’t forget, he was the last guy to see the missing fossil piece before it vanished. He may have been cleverly throwing me off his trail so I wouldn’t catch on to the big picture,” she finished with satisfaction.
Paige whirled on her angrily. “There is no trail to be put off and no big picture. Jack’s a nice guy, and I won’t let you drag him into one of your phoney fantasies.”
“Don’t you see a connection? Jackson goes to Colombia and can speak Spanish. Our Agent D turns out to be Spanish-Speaking and I’m willing to bet a good old-fashioned loonie he’s from Colombia!”
Paige shook her head. “That doesn’t make Agent D a spy from Colombia; it makes him a tourist from another country. Big difference!” She marched off in the direction of the gift shop.
Sam watched as she strode away. The strong reaction to Sam’s hinting Jackson was involved in the bone theft could mean only one thing. Sam had seen this before with her cousin.
Paige had a seriously stupid thing for Jackson Lunde.
“Great!” Sam knew this might complicate things if she needed Paige’s help in nailing her prime suspect and it turned out to be her cousin’s latest crush.
She had a bigger problem. Even if Jackson was dirty, without proof she had nothing. She was a teenager with a history of being a little strange, and she was pointing a finger at a reputable scientist from a world-class museum. Oh, and the scientist was crazy cute, thought of her as the lab gopher and was not at all interested in Sam in “that way.” No crown prosecutor in Canada would press charges. And on top of this, Sam would have to be extremely careful of what she said about the guy when Paige was around.
Chapter 7
Acid Test
For the next couple of days, Sam watched and listened very carefully but the mysterious Agent D was either not around or was being extra careful not to slip up again. She didn’t see any sign of him, in the ferns or out, and wasn’t certain whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
Sam tried to keep everything in perspective. Okay, maybe she did have a tendency to jump off the deep end sometimes, and her cousin did dish out good advice, which meant Sam should listen to Paige’s warning. But then she thought of all those coincidences piling up.
After a lot of sweat and aching muscles, Sam and Jackson had nearly finished the uncrating and cataloguing, and they were working together to organize the last of the bones into specific groups.
“So, Jackson, do you know where I’ll be assigned next?” She pushed on an uncooperative block of securely jacketed bone. Even though she was in good shape, being rather small for her age meant that shoving plaster-covered chunks of dinosaur around was tough work. She gave the fossil one last shove and was rewarded as it slid into place.
“As a matter of fact, Gopher, Professor Caine and I already discussed your future. Since we’re done with the uncrating, you’ll be assigned to the Fine Preparation Lab to work on another project.”
The idea of her being forced to leave what she was sure was the scene of the crime didn’t sit well with Sam. Somehow she had to scare up more leads. So far, waiting and watching had done nothing to help her track down the bone thief.
Perhaps if she told Jackson about seeing Agent D in the conservatory, Jack’s reaction might tell her whether or not there was a connection between the hidden lurker and himself. It was worth a try.
“Jackson, can I tell you something in strictest confidence?”
“Sure, Gopher, what’s up?”
She leaned toward him. “I may be giving my imagination a free pass, but I think there’s someone spying on us.”
“Spying! What are you talking about?”
“Paige and I saw the guy here at the museum, at least I saw him,” she corrected. “And I believe it’s the same man who left the Spanish message in the phone booth.”
“Phone booth?” Jackson asked. “You said you found the number in a book.”
Sam cringed at having given that piece of information away. “I did – the phone book. Agent D, that’s what we call him, sort of…left the ghost impression of the number, and I took a copy. Anyway, he was not only at the depot, he rode all the way from Calgary with us on the bus!”
Comprehension dawned on Jackson’s face. “You were watching this Agent D, not me, right?”
“Right,” Sam confessed. “The bigger question is, why was he there in the first place?”
Jackson betrayed nothing. “Maybe he’s a visitor here to see the museum. It is a pretty popular place.”
Sam shook her head. “He’s no visitor.”
“Did I hear you say someone was following you, Samantha?”
Professor Caine’s voice startled Sam and she jumped. The old man had snuck up without her noticing. She had a lot of work to do on her sleuthing skills.
Not wanting to widen the circle of people who knew about her suspicions, or give her boss the impression she was paranoid, she cleared her throat and turned to the dour professor. “Actually, it’s probably nothing more than my hyperactive imagination.” She stuck her thumbs into her jean pockets, trying to act casual.
Professor Caine’s gaze swept the room apprehensively. “All the same, someone watching one of my employees is not something we condone. I want you to tell me immediately if you see this person again and I’ll have building security investigate at once. In the meantime, I’m going to keep you working here with me.”
Sam wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. She’d be staying close to the Colombian fossils, which was good, but she’d have Professor Caine watching her like a hawk, which was bad.
•••
Later that afternoon Sam was helping Jackson put some of the catalogued bones into storage when she bumped a cart holding a large leg bone. The bone tumbled to the floor and rolled against a shelf.
Embarrassed at her clumsiness, Sam hurried over to the runaway fossil. “Hey!” she exclaimed, hefting the huge femur. “This thing hardly weighs anything. What gives?”
Jackson moved next to her. “It’s a cast made out of fibreglass. Some original bones are too fragile, too unique or too heavy to use in the displays so fake ones are made.” He tapped the replica. “They look exactly like the real thing and are easier to work with.” He took the lightweight replica from Sam and replaced it on the trolley. “Never mind this stuff. I want to show you another of our palaeo-mysteries.” He passed Sam a piece of rock with hundreds of tiny shells imbedded in it. “Every one of these shells is important and needs to be recovered. Guess how?”
Sam studied the fossil-studded rock for a moment then gave it back. “Okay, I give up. How do you get the fossils out without smashing them to bits?”
“I’m glad you asked, Gopher. Right this way.” Jackson swept his arm toward the door.
He led her down a series of hallways to an open room marked ‘Noxious Laboratory.’
“Here in the Obnoxious Lab, we use special measures to free our little fossi
l friends.” Sam followed him into the room and started to close the door behind her.
Jackson reached out and grabbed the door. “Whoa! Read, then proceed is my motto, especially here.” He pointed to a sign Sam had missed on the way in. LOCK BROKEN – DO NOT CLOSE DOOR! “Maintenance is working on it – slowly. If I hadn’t caught the door, we’d have been stuck. The lock won’t open from the inside.”
“Sorry.” Sam felt foolish, then wondered what the big deal was. It was just a door. “I guess I was more interested in freeing ‘our little fossil friends’ than reading door signs.”
Jackson ran his fingers through his hair in an irritated gesture. “Rule number one: In a laboratory, you have to pay attention. You could get hurt, and then my butt would be in the fire. I don’t need any bad press because you messed up.”
Sam thought he was way overreacting. She was sure someone would have come along and found them – eventually.
The Noxious Lab was dominated by a long table in the middle of the room on which lay a large partially exposed fossil. Sturdy workbenches ran around the outside of the room, with stainless steel sinks every three metres. Fume hoods hung down from the ceiling. On the walls were shelves with lots of different-sized bottles displayed. Sam saw they all had the corrosive warning label.
“Acid!” She loved the insider intel. “You use acids to dissolve the rock away from the fossils.”
“So – you are observant when you want to be, Gopher.” He indicated the labels on the bottles. “I take it you saw those?”
“Yup, it’s what clued me in, not to mention the peculiar smell in here.” She wiggled her nose.
“This is one room that really needs fume hoods and you’re right, we use different acids to leach out the fossils. The limestone cement in the rock dissolves, and then the palaeontologist can use his dental picks to finish cleaning the specimens.”
“What types of acids are we talking about?” Sam asked, fingering the dark bottles.
“Careful, Gopher,” Jackson cautioned. “Some of them are very dangerous. We use nitric and hydrochloric acids as well as glacial acetic acid.”
Sam’s brow arched. “Acetic acid, isn’t that vinegar?”
“Right again!” he laughed. “It’s not as dangerous. Unfortunately, because the acid is so weak, it’s not as effective either. It still reacts with the lime in the rock so we sometimes use it.”
Sam was starting to see that palaeontology was way more than digging old bones out of rock and she now understood the need for caution when working with fossils. Thinking about working with dangerous, or even lethal, acids made her ner-vous. Maybe Jackson hadn’t overreacted after all.
Chapter 8
Tips, Turtles and Treachery
Professor Caine had been more than watchful; he’d practically been Sam’s shadow. It was nice of him to worry, even if it did put a crimp into her investigative work. And as for Jackson, she’d decided that even though he hadn’t risen to her bait when she’d dropped the bomb about Agent D spying, it didn’t mean he wasn’t involved in something nefarious.
Sam thought nefarious was a great word. It sounded oddly Egyptian from the days of the pharaohs. Bow, lowly slaves, when in the presence of Queen Nefarious. Yeah, very cool, she decided as she and Paige bicycled home Friday afternoon.
“We have the whole weekend off, right?” Sam asked as they wended their way through the dusty streets back to the rooming house. The early July sun was so warm, she couldn’t help wonder what the temperatures would be in August.
“Yeah, so?”
Paige threw her a suspicious look and Sam wondered what she’d done to warrant such mistrust. “So, after we check in with our parents, we have nothing too pressing, right?” She wheeled her bike onto Mrs. O’Reilly’s street.
“No, Sam. I won’t do it.” Paige shook her head emphatically.
“You don’t even know what I have in mind!” Sam protested.
“I don’t need to hear any more. Whenever you open with ‘Paige, we have the whole weekend off,’ I know you’ve got a scheme bubbling up in that overworked brain of yours.”
“Cousin! I’m deeply offended. My master plans should never be referred to as schemes. They’re well-thought-out, insightful strategies that can only be executed by a team of skilled operatives, such as ourselves.” Sam leapt off her bicycle and pushed it up the gravel drive. “Besides,” she added mischievously, “you haven’t even heard this scheme yet.”
Paige jammed on the brakes. “If it involves anything to do with your mysterious Agent D, count me out.”
Sam opened the rickety wooden garage door and both girls walked their bikes in, being careful not to scratch Mrs. O’Reilly’s car, although one more scratch would hardly have been noticed. The paint on the old relic was a little past its prime.
“All I’m asking is for you to come with me tomorrow on a short junket around Drumheller,” Sam said in a tone that hinted at hurt feelings. “Not a big commitment for one cousin to make for another.”
“Junket, shmunket!” Paige scoffed, then as though admitting the inevitable defeat, relented. “Okay, okay, stop with the Pound Puppy bit! As a matter of fact,” she said thumbing through a non-existent appointment book, “until Mr. Right calls back, my social calendar isn’t exactly full and, Lord knows, my thighs could use the extra exercise. Sitting all day slaving over a hot computer has got me thinking about secretarial spread.” She twisted her head around at a bizarre angle and tried to watch herself as she walked away. “Tell me the truth Sam; do you think I’m getting hippo hips?” She continued her awkward method of locomotion until she tripped over the coiled garden hose.
“No Paige, for the ten-thousandth time! You’re gorgeous, svelte, irresistible, mind-blowing model material. Now, about tomorrow...”
Sam was still explaining details for the morning’s excursion as they sat in their room after calling home and before going downstairs for dinner. Paige listened absently as she inspected her Pucker-Pink fingernail polish for chips.
“I’m positive Agent D will lead us to the fossil. All we have to do is watch what he does, where he goes and who he contacts,” Sam said nonchalantly. “No sweat!”
“There’s one teeny tiny flaw in your master plan, Ms Bond. We don’t know where this Agent D of yours is.” Paige’s voice held more than a dash of sarcasm.
“That’s what my game plan for Saturday is all about. You see,” Sam finished her explanation, “it’s a game of cat and mouse, or mice and cat in our case.” She sat back on her bed and folded her arms as though that explained everything.
“Let me get this straight,” Paige said slowly. “You want us to cruise every hotel, motel and boarding house in Drumheller in search of the elusive Agent D?” She waited for Sam to confirm her suspicion.
Sam grinned at her cousin, showing all her teeth at once in a jack-o’-lantern creepy way.
Paige went on, the sarcasm still annoyingly evident. “Suppose he is a crook. He would, of course, have used his real name when he signed in and wouldn’t mind at all if two busybody teens were to give him the third degree about his illegal business!”
“This is not my first rodeo, Ms Carlson. We’re going to be a little more subtle than that. Leave it to me.” Sam hoped her confidence wasn’t overconfidence. She had no choice now. She had to prove to Paige, and herself, that she wasn’t dreaming this all up or blowing it way out of proportion. She wasn’t a nut case…was she?
•••
Saturday was a scorcher. By ten o’clock, half the kids on the block were already running through sprinklers. Sam and Paige started rather late on their quest for Agent D, mostly because Paige had refused to leave the security of her rumpled bed.
“Sam, we have to go back.” Paige had pulled her bicycle over and was rummaging in her oversized purse/backpack/ suitcase.
“Why? We haven’t even investigated the first motel yet.” Sam scanned the street up ahead for their intended target.
“Because,” Paige said
throwing her bag back into the bike basket, “I’ve forgotten my sunscreen, and you know, as a natural redhead, how paranoid I am about radiation sickness.”
Sam took a deep breath. “Agreed, it’s smart to worry about too much sun. In your case, I don’t consider a barely-there tan radiation sickness. Squish your hat down over your ears and slip this poncho on. It will cover the rest of you till we get some lotion.” She pulled a ratty green plastic rain slicker out of her own bike’s ancient wicker basket. “Mrs. O’Reilly obviously believes in going prepared.” Sam tossed the musty poncho to Paige who gritted her teeth before slipping it over her head.
They set out again with Sam in the lead and Paige reluctantly in tow. When Sam stole a glance at her cousin a few minutes later, Paige was pedalling at a furious rate. Her hat was pulled firmly down, and the mouldy rain slicker with its bright-orange reflective stripes merrily flapped in the breeze. Sam thought the total effect of the ensemble was hilarious.
“At least we won’t have to worry about anyone identifying you, Ms Carlson. Your own mother wouldn’t recognize you in your stylish new outfit.”
Paige grumbled an inaudible reply and continued pedalling.
Drumheller was not exactly a huge urban metropolis and a complete tour of all the available lodgings consisted of a few motels, a hotel and a motor lodge, which was suspiciously like a motel with a restaurant stuck on the end.
Death by Dinosaur: A Sam Stellar Mystery Page 5
