“Sorry I didn’t get the dog-walking clue,” D.C. said. “D’you find anything while you were inside the house?”
“Plenty. First of all, McCarthy’s not the worst man in the world. He misses his wife and he’s really sweet to his dog. Also, he might be the guy you kicked in the cabin, but I’m starting to think that he might not have been the “ghost” I saw looking at me through the window. I found a pair of his boots in the closet, and they’re a lot bigger than the boot prints we picked up at the cabin.”
“What about the time capsule?” D.C. asked.
“Nope. Didn’t see any sign of the capsule. I did come across an old diary that belonged to Toot McCarthy. I think he might have found the treasure right before he disappeared.”
“Did the diary say where it is?”
“No. Looked like Toot might have drawn a treasure map, but it had been ripped out of the book. Probably a long time ago.”
“So no capsule and no treasure,” D.C. moaned. “We’re right back where we started!”
Just then Sheriff Ogle rode past them and stopped in front of McCarthy’s house. Mayor Landers was sitting in the passenger seat of the cruiser. He stayed put while Sheriff Ogle got out and walked up the steps of McCarthy’s front porch.
“Do you think she finally got the search warrant?” Randi asked.
They snuck back just in time to hear McCarthy open the door and shout angrily, “I said I wasn’t . . .”
“Excuse me?” Sheriff Ogle said, taken aback.
“Oh, it’s you. I thought it was those kids again. What do you want, Mildred?”
The sheriff stared down at her feet. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors going round town, Angus. Folks seem to think you had something to do with the capsule disappearing. Now, I’m gonna be honest with you. I don’t have enough evidence to request a search warrant. So I’m just going to ask you to let me come in and have a look around your house. If you don’t have the capsule, I give you my word that your name will be cleared of all suspicion.”
I’m just going to ask? Randi shook her head. I’ll give you my word? Could Deer Creek’s sheriff get any more pathetic?
“Don’t matter if you find the capsule or not, Mildred. We both know folks’ll still say what they want. They laughed at my daddy; now they’re pointing their fingers at me. But I’m going to have the last laugh, Mildred. Just you wait and see!” Then he slammed the door in her face.
“Did you hear that?” D.C. groaned. “It’s over.”
“No, it’s not!” Randi insisted. “Go home and ask your mom if you can sleep at my house tonight, and I’ll ask my dad if I can stay the night at your place.”
“What are you cookin’ up?” D.C. asked, kicking the gravel on the side of the road.
“Phase Three of our plan,” said Randi, hoping she’d have enough time to come up with one.
* * *
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
* * *
LIAR, LIAR
Mei-Ling was in the living room hanging paintings when Randi arrived home. A still life of poppies already decorated the foyer. Now Mei-Ling was holding a painting that Randi’s mother had done the last summer the whole family had been together in Deer Creek. It showed the monument in the center of town, surrounded by the brightly colored pansies that Randi’s mom had planted herself. Randi was about to rush up to her bedroom when Mei-Ling called out to her.
“Give me a hand, please, Miranda,” she said. “Pass me the hammer.”
When the painting had been hung, Randi took a step back to admire the artwork. Her mother hadn’t allowed any of her art to be displayed around the house, and Randi never understood why. The paintings might have been the work of an amateur artist, but that didn’t make them any less lovely.
“What do you think, eh? Hen hao?”
Having thumbed through the Mandarin dictionary that Mei-Ling had given her, Randi knew that hao meant good. “Hen hao, Mei-Ling. Very good,” Randi replied.
“I found them in the cellar and thought it was a shame that no one was enjoying such beautiful art. It was just collecting dust.”
“Thanks for saving it,” Randi said. She hoped Mei-Ling didn’t hear the quiver in her voice.
“You’re welcome,” Mei-Ling told her. And before Randi knew it, they were sharing a hug. She even let it last for a few seconds before she pulled away. “I know how important it is,” Mei-Ling added, “to keep little reminders of the people we’ve lost. My husband was a carpenter, and I would never get rid of the things that he built. They make me feel as if he’s still there.”
“My dad threw my mom’s paintings into the cellar.”
“He doesn’t need the paintings to remind him, mae mae. This whole town is your mother to him. Why do you think he brought you here?”
“I never thought of it that way,” Randi said as she stared at the painting in front of her.
Mei-Ling smiled and scoped out a place to hang another artwork. “I hope you’re hungry, Miranda. I’m making my special fish yi mein tonight.”
“Yi what?” Randi mumbled, distracted by her mother’s painting of the monument. She took a step closer, until she could read the message engraved on the monument’s plaque. REMEMBER HOW IT ALL BEGAN. It was the same thing Toot had written in the diary she’d found at Angus McCarthy’s house. What else had the diary said? Something about the treasure being in the heart of the town, but not under the . . . monument. That had to have been the word that was missing! Was the message on the monument’s plaque a clue to the treasure’s real location? Is that how Toot had managed to find it?
“Yi mein. It’s delicious.” Mei-Ling was still talking. “Chewy golden noodles with my secret ingredient: catfish.”
Randi could barely hide her excitement. “Sounds great. Too bad I’ll have to miss it, Mei-Ling. I’m gonna ask Dad if I can camp out with D.C. tonight.”
“Oh, no, no. Not tonight. It’s going to storm.”
Randi’s eyes narrowed. The last thing she needed was a nanny poking her nose in where it didn’t belong. “The television forecast said it would be clear and sunny all week.”
“You can never trust the forecast. Only trust your body. Before the first big summer rain, my left ankle swells. See?” Mei-Ling said. She kicked out her left foot for Randi to see her bloated ankle. “Well, go ahead and ask. He’s in his office. If he says yes, I will save some yi mein especially for you.”
“Thanks,” Randi said. Now mind your own business.
~ ~ ~ ~
Randi bypassed her dad’s office and hurried up to her room. Once the door was closed, she dumped the contents of her backpack out on the bed. She grabbed her camera and began to scroll through the evidence photos. The first pictures she examined were the ones she’d taken of Toot’s old diary. He seemed to think that the monument’s message was a clue to the treasure’s location. He’d started his search inside his own cabin—the first house built by the town’s three founders, but that didn’t seem to be where he’d found it. If only Randi had gotten a look at the treasure map!
Randi went through the rest of the evidence. She found the photo she’d taken of Angus McCarthy’s boots. And just as she’d suspected, they didn’t match the boot prints that she and D.C. had discovered inside the cabin at Rock Hollow. Who had she seen looking at her through the window? Had someone else figured out that the monument’s message was a clue? Had that person gone to the cabin to search for Toot’s treasure?
Randi felt like she’d been presented with a giant jigsaw puzzle. The pieces all fit together somehow. She just didn’t have enough time to figure out how. She and D.C. had only a few hours left to save his mom’s orchard. That meant they had to go back to Angus McCarthy’s house. This time they’d wait until he fell asleep and have one last look for the time capsule.
~ ~ ~ ~
Randi tiptoed down the hall to her father’s office and listened to him typing while she stood at the door collecting her thoughts. She had to find a way to get out of the house, but sh
e didn’t enjoy deceiving him. She’d never kept secrets when her mom was alive. Lately, though, it seemed like the Rhodes family had forgotten how to tell the truth. Her father hadn’t even told his own daughter that he was writing again. And Randi had lied about, well . . . just about everything for over a year.
It would have been easier if she’d been born a boy, Randi thought again. Her dad wouldn’t worry so much—or try so hard to protect her. If she were a boy, she could have told him about her detective work. They could have swapped crime stories and forensics tips. And she wouldn’t have to lie all the time. Randi sighed and brushed that aside. The capsule, she thought. I have to focus on the capsule. Glenn Street would never let anything stand in the way of a big case. Besides, Randi wasn’t really planning to lie—she was just delaying the truth a little. She’d explain everything as soon she’d recovered the time capsule. And when she did, she knew it would make her dad proud.
She nudged the door a bit and watched her father working at his computer. Click, click, click. His fingers glided across the keyboard, never missing a stroke. Randi glanced around the small room. She hadn’t been in the office since the first day of their move. Back then, it had been covered in two years’ worth of dust. Now the wood furniture gleamed and sunlight streamed through crystal-clear windows. Oak bookshelves held neatly organized volumes of detective manuals and hardbound copies of the Glenn Street novels. Randi smiled to herself and ran her fingers along the books’ gilded spines.
Herb Rhodes muttered something to himself as he tapped at the computer’s keyboard with musician-like precision.
Randi plopped down on the edge of the desk.
“What can I do for you?” Herb asked without looking up.
“Oh, nothing. What’s up with you?”
“Just jotting down a few notes.”
“For a book? You haven’t done that in a while. How’s it going?” Randi asked.
Herb ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Fine, thanks,” he said. He stopped typing and glanced up at Randi. “What do you need, honey?”
Randi’s gaze landed on the family photo on Herb’s desk. “A lot of people are going to be hurt if the town council votes to postpone the festival, huh, Dad?”
“I hope not. Maybe the time capsule will be located before the deadline. Let’s be optimistic. Is that what you came here to talk about?”
“No. I wanted to ask if I can camp out at D.C.’s place tonight. His mom said it was okay with her if it’s okay with you.”
“Hmm.” Herb grimaced. “I’ve never met this kid, and you barely know him, kiddo.”
“He’s great, Dad,” she said in her bubbly little girl voice. “Really. He’s my only friend. We just want to finish working on our secret hideout.”
But this time, Randi’s father wasn’t buying the act. “Maybe by the end of summer, after I’ve gotten to know him and his family.”
“The end of the summer?” Randi grumbled. “I’ll be dead of boredom by then.”
“I hope not. Who’ll help Mei-Ling with the laundry?” Herb said with a smile.
“Then I guess I better call D.C. and let him know I’m not coming,” Randi sniped, heading for the door. “Thanks for being so understanding, Dad.”
Well, I tried, Randi thought as she walked up to her bedroom. She restocked her backpack, making sure she had her digital camera, spiral notepad, binoculars, evidence bags, and fresh batteries for the flashlight. Then she ran downstairs to the kitchen, where she raided the fridge for juice packs, peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches, and Mei-Ling’s homemade baozi.
When she was done, she stopped to stare at a painting of daisies that Mei-Ling had hung on one of the walls. She remembered the day two years earlier when her mother had walked into the kitchen holding that very painting. Ta-da! she’d said. Not too shabby, huh, kiddo? Randi heard footsteps coming up behind her, and for a moment she was sure they belonged to her mother.
But it was only Mei-Ling carrying a handful of folded dish towels. “I see he said yes,” she said, eyeing Randi’s backpack.
“Nope,” Randi said coldly. “I’m just packing up some gear for tomorrow.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Later that night, Randi was pretending to sleep when her father walked through the house, doing his nightly check. She’d left her door slightly open, and she heard a light tap on the wood.
“You up, kiddo?” he whispered.
Randi peeked out from beneath her sheets and saw him glance around the room. A light breeze blew through the curtains. When Randi didn’t answer, he sighed and closed the door.
As soon as the latch clicked, Randi popped out from beneath the covers. She listened for her dad to head back downstairs to his office. Now that he was writing again, she knew that’s where he’d be until morning.
Already dressed head to toe in black, Randi pulled on her sneakers and grabbed her backpack. Then she quickly scribbled a note and tucked it underneath her pillow.
I’ve gone to look for the capsule and save Deer Creek. If you find this note in the morning, something has gone wrong.
If you find it before morning, mind your own business, Mei-Ling!
With everything in order, Randi snuck out of her room and down the stairs.
When she reached the bottom, she stopped and listened for Mei-Ling. Hearing nothing, she tiptoed across the landing and crept past the hall that led to her dad’s office. She’d almost reached the front door, but stopped cold in her tracks when she heard her mother’s voice.
“You’ve reached, Herb, Olivia-Kay, and Miranda Rhodes. We’re not home, so you know what to do . . . beep!” the answering machine played.
Randi stood frozen while her father replayed the outgoing message over and over again. Her eyes were filled with tears when she finally forced herself through the front door.
~ ~ ~ ~
D.C. had left his window open, just as Randi had instructed. He was tucked under the covers studying The Warrior Within by flashlight.
“Empty your mind,” Randi heard him read out loud. “Be formless. Shapeless. Like water. Now you put water into a cup. It becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle. It becomes the bottle. Now water can flow, or it can crash. Be water, my friend . . .”
Randi was about to announce her presence when D.C.’s mom knocked at his door. “You awake?”
“Yeah.”
“I know you heard me tell Mr. Sutton that we have no place to go, but I want you to know that we’re going to be fine,” Mrs. Cruz said, her voice trembling. “I’ll figure this out, okay?”
“I know you will,” he assured her.
“But for now we have each other, and that’s all that really matters.” She touched D.C.’s brow, checking his temperature. “You look a little flushed. Are you feeling okay? Did you have an attack?”
“A small one,” D.C. reluctantly admitted.
“You’ve been running around a lot lately. You need to be careful, D.C. We couldn’t keep up with the insurance payments, so we can’t really afford a hospital visit right now.”
“I’ll be okay. I’m just tired,” said D.C.
“You know you’ve got to take it easier than other kids.” She tucked his hair behind his ears. “You were in that incubator for a very long time when you were a baby. The doctors said it was a miracle you survived.”
“I know, Mom!” D.C. replied, sounding annoyed. “My hearing’s been okay since I got the new hearing aid, and this is my first asthma attack in a long time. And I’m twelve, you know. I’m not a sick little baby anymore.”
Mrs. Cruz smiled nervously, her eyes misting. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Why don’t I let you get some rest.”
Randi stood outside listening. We really have to solve this case tonight, she thought. I had no idea it was this bad. D.C. and his mom can’t even afford to get sick.
As soon as D.C.’s mother was gone, he hopped out of bed, dressed in the dobok that Randi had given him. She waved to him from outside, and he gave her a th
umbs-up as he pulled on his backpack and scrambled out the window. When he was safely on the ground, they both donned black skullcaps and snuck off into the night, as invisible as ninjas. Randi hopped on her Schwinn and D.C. mounted the BPX5, and together they rode all the way to Angus McCarthy’s house and set up camp behind the old man’s pickup truck.
They could see McCarthy inside, moving from room to room. When he settled into a La-Z-Boy chair in front of the TV, Randi trained her binoculars on him. Cicadas and crickets sang in the night. A couple of hours passed and nothing happened. McCarthy seemed to be a bona fide night owl.
“What time is it?” D.C. asked.
“Five minutes later than the last time you asked me.”
“Which is?”
“Eleven forty-five,” said Randi.
“So, we have fifteen minutes to find the time capsule. Great!” D.C. leaned against the truck. “Can we just go home already? I’m starving to death.”
“There are peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches in my pack.”
“I ate them already. And those sweet little dumpling things,” griped D.C.
“They’re called baozi.” Randi turned and gave him the evil eye.
“What? I was too nervous to eat dinner at home. We’ve been out here for hours. And what if you’re wrong? What if McCarthy doesn’t have the time capsule? What then?”
Randi chewed on her bottom lip. She had been thinking the same thing. She turned her attention back to McCarthy just in time to see the old man get up from the table.
“I think he may be heading to bed,” Randi said, passing the binoculars.
“You’ve said that four times now. And . . . yep, he just picked up the phone.”
“What’s he saying?”
“Dunno,” said D.C. “His back is turned to me. Wait, he just hung up. He’s walking to the door.”
McCarthy opened the door and Bunny dashed into the yard. The two kids ducked back behind the truck.
Case of the Time-Capsule Bandit Page 10
