by Ron Roy
Hector closed his eyes, then snapped them open again. “Yep, I remember now. A bunch of people were standing around gabbing about the snow. Buying candy and gum. Some were behind me in line to buy lottery tickets.”
“Could one of them have seen the numbers you picked?”
“I suppose it’s possible,” Hector said. “I wrote all my grandkids’ birthdays down and handed the slip to the clerk. Then she typed the numbers into the lottery machine, and out popped the seven tickets. Anyone could have seen the numbers as I wrote them down.”
Dink thought for a minute. “And did you mention that you were going to send them to your grandkids?”
Suddenly, Hector’s face turned white. “I guess maybe I did,” he said, “while I was addressing the envelope and putting the tickets inside. Never thought it would do any harm ’cause I never expected them to win.”
Hector sighed and shook his head. “Me and my big mouth! I just can’t help bragging about ’em. How I eat supper at their house, how Lucky’s doin’ in college, stuff like that.”
Blue Boy left Ruth Rose’s head and zipped across the room. He landed on one of the hanging pots.
“Rats,” Josh muttered. “I hardly got started.”
“Let me see,” Ruth Rose said, reaching for the paper.
Josh grinned and folded the drawing in half, then slipped it into his pocket. “Nope. Not till it’s done.”
Dink stood up. “Thanks a lot, Mr. O’Leary,” he said. “I think we’ll go talk to the lottery clerk. Do you know her name?”
“Sure do,” Hector said. “It’s Dorothy. She’s new, but she’ll remember me. And if you catch the snake who stole those tickets, there’ll be something extra in your Christmas stockings this year!”
“Great,” Josh said. “I usually just get boring underwear!”
The kids said good-bye and left the atrium. Pal was sleeping under a potted palm tree with his leash on his paws. Josh woke him up, and the kids got back into their hats and coats.
Outside on Main Street, the wind blew snow into the kids’ faces.
“Do you guys think Zelda Zoot is the thief?” Josh asked. “She looks like my grandmother!”
“If the old folks at the Atrium know that Hector sends lottery tickets to his grandkids every Christmas,” Ruth Rose said, “they’re all suspects!”
“Guys,” Dink said, “you heard what Hector said. He likes to talk about his grandkids. Anyone in Green Lawn could be the thief!”
The kids trudged up Main Street. Two minutes later, they bustled into the supermarket and headed toward the lottery counter.
“Heel,” Josh told Pal, who waddled along next to him.
“I wonder if that’s Dorothy,” Ruth Rose said. She pointed at a young blond woman behind the counter. On the wall above her head hung a small security camera.
Dink approached the counter. “Excuse me,” he said. “Are you Dorothy?”
The woman looked up, chomping on a wad of gum. “That’s me,” she said, pointing to her name tag. It said DOROTHY CALM.
“People call me Dot. Who are you?”
“I’m Dink,” he said, “and this is Josh and Ruth Rose.”
Dot Calm blew a small pink bubble, let it pop, and then continued chewing. “Nice to meetcha,” she said.
“We were wondering if you remember selling a bunch of lottery tickets on Friday morning,” Ruth Rose said.
The woman laughed. “Kiddo, I sell hundreds of tickets every day.”
“This was seven tickets together,” Dink explained. He told Dot Calm about Lucky’s grandfather, and how the tickets had been stolen from Lucky’s house.
Dot stared at Dink for a moment, then smiled fondly. “Yeah, I remember him,” she said. “Nice old gent, loves to blah, blah, blah. He told me all about his grandkids and how he sends them lottery tickets every year.”
“Do you remember who was hanging around here when he bought the tickets?” Josh asked.
Dot Calm unwrapped a piece of gum and popped it into her mouth. She chewed for a few seconds, then said, “Lots of people were standing around.”
“Did you notice anyone real close who could have overheard what Mr. O’Leary was saying?” Ruth Rose asked.
Dot Calm squinted and looked into the distance. “Yeah,” she said finally. “There was one guy I remember special.” She shuddered. “He was pretty creepy-looking.”
“Can you describe him?” Ruth Rose asked.
Dot Calm smiled. “I can do better than that,” she said. “I know his name!”
“You know who he is?” Dink asked.
“Just his first name,” Dot Calm said. “He was wearing a bowling shirt with ‘Joe’ stitched over the pocket.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Josh said.
“I think the name of his team was printed on the back of his shirt,” Dot added. “I noticed it when he left, but he was too far away to read it.”
Josh pulled out his pencil and flipped over the piece of drawing paper Hector had given him. “I can sketch him if you tell me what he looked like,” he said.
“You can?” Dot asked. “Okay, let me see. His hair was dark and kind of floppy. He had a little mustache, too, a skinny one. And he had a space between his two front teeth.”
“About how old was he?” Ruth Rose asked as Josh sketched.
Dot closed her eyes and snapped her bubble gum. “I’d say about twenty-five or so,” she said finally.
“Did he have any scars or tattoos or anything?” Dink asked, watching the thief’s face take shape on Josh’s paper.
Dot shook her head. “Not that I can remember.”
Josh held up his drawing so Dot Calm could see it. “Does that look like the guy?” he asked.
“Yeah, pretty much,” she said. “But you drew his chin too square. He had kind of a pointy chin.”
Josh erased the man’s chin, made a few more pencil marks, and then showed her the drawing again.
“That’s him!” she said. “Boy, you could make a living as an artist!”
Josh blushed. “Thanks, that’s what I want to do when I grow up.”
Ruth Rose looked at Dink and Josh. “We should take this to the police station and show it to Officer Fallon,” she said.
“Good idea,” Dink said.
The kids thanked Dot Calm and started to leave.
“Hey, I just thought of something,” she called after them. “Joe said he was thinking of moving to California if he ever got enough money.”
“Thanks,” Dink said. “We’ll tell Officer Fallon.” They hurried out of the supermarket.
Snow was still falling. The wind blew it into their faces, and flakes caught on their eyelashes. Josh slipped his drawing inside his jacket to keep it dry.
A few minutes later they tapped on Officer Fallon’s door inside the police station.
“Come on in,” he said. “How about a Christmas goody?” He held out a paper plate of cookies.
“We want to report a crime,” Dink said, taking a cookie and sitting on one of the chairs in the office.
Josh and Ruth Rose each took one, then sat next to Dink. Josh broke his cookie in half and gave a chunk to Pal.
Officer Fallon leaned on his elbows. “I’m listening,” he said.
Dink told him about the lottery tickets stolen from Lucky’s house.
Officer Fallon let out a low whistle when Dink said “seven million dollars.”
Ruth Rose continued, telling Officer Fallon about visiting Lucky’s grandfather. And Josh finished by telling about their talk with Dot Calm. He slid his drawing out from under his jacket and showed it to Officer Fallon. “She told us his name is Joe,” he said.
“Pretty good artwork, Josh,” Officer Fallon said, studying the drawing. “You know, this face looks familiar.”
“Do you think we can find him before tomorrow?” Dink asked.
Officer Fallon raised one eyebrow. “I can’t trace him without knowing his last name,” he said. “Why the rush?”
“Becaus
e tomorrow he can cash in Lucky’s lottery ticket,” Ruth Rose said.
“And the lottery lady said the guy is heading for California!” Josh added.
Officer Fallon stood up. “I’ll do my best. Josh, can I keep this sketch?”
“Well, I was planning to finish drawing Ruth Rose,” he said. “I started a picture on the back.”
Officer Fallon flipped the paper over. He grinned at Ruth Rose. “Is that a bird on your head?”
“It’s a parakeet,” Ruth Rose said, then explained about Blue Boy.
Dink told Officer Fallon about Zelda Zoot. “Hector said she steals cookies,” he added.
“We’ll check her out,” Officer Fallon said, heading for the copying machine.
He placed Josh’s drawing on the machine, made a copy, and handed the original back to Josh.
“I’ll circulate the sketch and see what turns up,” he said.
“What happens if you don’t find the crook in time?” Dink asked.
“Well, that’s a problem,” Officer Fallon said. “As far as I know, whoever presents a winning lottery ticket gets the money, no questions asked.”
“Even if they stole it?” Josh said. “That’s not fair!”
“I know it isn’t fair,” Officer Fallon said. “But the lottery people have to award the money to the ticket holder.”
Officer Fallon thought for a minute. “I suppose if they had proof that the ticket was stolen, they would hold back the money.” He looked at the kids. “But you have no real proof. Your friend can’t prove his grandfather bought the tickets or sent them.”
Dink stood up. “Then we’ll get proof!” he said.
The kids thanked Officer Fallon and left. “Let’s go to my house and talk,” Dink said as they stepped outside into the falling snow.
“Talk, schmalk,” Josh sputtered. “I’ve gotta eat lunch! That half a cookie made me hungry!”
Dink laughed. “Okay, we’ll eat while we figure out what to do next.”
By the time they reached Dink’s front door, they looked like three kid-sized snowmen. They left their jackets, boots, hats, and mittens in the hall and headed for the kitchen.
Pal trotted in and immediately flopped down next to the radiator.
Dink found a note from his mom on the table.
Dink,
I had to take the car in for snow tires. Heat up the soup in the microwave and make peanut butter sandwiches. I’ll be home soon.
Love, Mom
“I’ll make the sandwiches,” Josh said, pawing through the cupboard.
Dink heated some tomato soup, and the kids carried their lunches into the den. “Anyone want to watch a video?” Dink asked.
“Video!” Ruth Rose said suddenly. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Josh asked.
“There was a video camera at the lottery counter,” Ruth Rose said. “If Joe’s bowling team is on the back of his shirt, maybe it’ll show up on the tape!”
“Good idea!” Dink said. “I’d better tell Officer Fallon.”
He picked up the phone and called the police station. After Dink told Officer Fallon about the video camera, he dialed information and asked for the phone number of the supermarket. Dink dialed again and asked to be transferred to Dot Calm at the lottery counter.
Dink asked Dot if the camera was turned on the day Hector bought the seven tickets. He listened, said thank you, and then hung up.
“She’s gonna ask her boss to check the tape,” Dink said. “If the name of Joe’s bowling team shows up, Dot’s boss will call Officer Fallon.”
“I wonder if this Joe guy bowls at the fitness center,” Josh said.
“Good thinking, Josh,” Dink said. “We can check it out after we eat.”
“What’s this?” Ruth Rose suddenly cried. Something had fallen out of her hair and landed in her soup.
Josh giggled. “Maybe it’s a cootie.”
“No, Joshua, it’s not a cootie!” Ruth Rose said. She lifted something shiny onto her soup spoon. “It’s another tinfoil bow tie!”
Josh dug the other bow tie out of his pocket. Except that one was wet from tomato soup, the two tinfoil bow ties were the same.
Ruth Rose looked at Dink and Josh. “How did that thing get in my hair?” she asked.
The kids stared at each other. “Blue Boy!” they shouted at the same time.
“He must’ve had it in his beak when he landed on your head,” Dink said. “He buried it in your hair!”
“Yeah, but where did he get it?” Josh asked.
“The bow tie had to be in the atrium,” Dink said. “Those parakeets never go outside.”
“Then the crook must have been in the atrium, too!” Ruth Rose said. “Maybe it is Zelda Zoot!”
“It could still be Joe,” Josh said. “He might’ve gone to the atrium to ask someone where Hector’s grandkids live.”
Just then Dink’s mother burst into the house. “The roads are awful, and it’s still snowing!” she said.
She slipped off her coat, scarf, and boots. “This will be a good night to curl up with a big bowl of popcorn.”
“That’s what we do after skiing,” Ruth Rose said.
“You know how to ski?” Josh asked.
“Sure. My family learned to cross-country-ski a couple years ago,” Ruth Rose said. “Hey, why don’t I teach you guys? We can get around town a lot easier that way.”
“That’s a nice idea,” Dink’s mother said. “Just keep out of the streets. The snowplows are out in full force.”
The kids cleaned up their lunch things, got into their jackets, and walked next door to Ruth Rose’s house.
She took three sets of cross-country skis and poles from the garage. Then she showed Dink and Josh how to strap them onto their boots.
“Okay, now just glide,” she said. “Slide your skis along the snow and use the poles to keep your balance.”
“Piece of cake,” Josh said, taking a step.
He fell into a snowbank.
Soon Dink and Josh could follow Ruth Rose across her backyard without falling.
“You guys learned fast,” she said. “Why don’t we ski to the fitness center? We can show Josh’s picture around in the bowling alley.”
The kids skied around the school. Pal bounded after them, leaping high in the snow.
When they reached Main Street, they waited for a snowplow to pass, then skied across to the other side.
They stopped near the corner of Bridge Lane and Main. A man carrying a heavy-looking satchel and a pair of snowshoes came out of the fitness center.
The man smiled at the kids. “Nice day to be out in the snow,” he said.
“We just learned how to ski,” Josh said.
The man flopped his snowshoes onto the snowy sidewalk and tried to strap them onto his boots with one hand.
“Can I hold your bag for you?” Dink asked.
“Thanks,” the man said. “Don’t drop it on your toe, it’s my bowling ball.”
“Do you belong to a bowling team?” Josh asked.
“Yep. I bowl with the Green Lawn Giants,” he said. “Why, you thinking of joining a kids’ league?”
“No, but we were wondering if you know this guy.” Josh pulled out his drawing of Joe and showed it to the man.
“Hmmm,” the man said, studying the picture. “He’s not on our team, but he looks familiar.”
“His name is Joe,” Ruth Rose said.
The man shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this face before,” he said. “Why don’t you ask inside?”
“Thanks, we will,” Dink said.
The man finished strapping on his snowshoes and took back his bowling bag. “Thanks for your help,” he said, then clomped down Main Street.
The kids brushed the snow off a bench and sat to remove their skis. They carried the skis and poles into the fitness center and walked down a set of stairs. Pal trotted right behind them.
Two long bowling lanes took up
most of the basement. A bunch of men and women were bowling. Some of them wore shirts with names over the pockets.
There was a cart in one corner where a woman sold hot dogs and sodas.
Josh and Pal stopped and stared at the cart. “Why don’t we get some lunch?” Josh asked.
“We ate lunch, remember?” Dink said, glancing around.
“Do you see Joe anywhere?” Ruth Rose asked.
Dink shook his head. Not one of the men looked like Josh’s sketch.
“Let’s ask if anyone knows him,” Josh said.
The kids leaned their skis and poles in a corner and left Pal in charge. They began showing Josh’s picture to anyone who wasn’t bowling.
A few people said Joe looked like someone they’d seen.
One woman said Joe resembled her husband, George.
A man said Joe had a face like a bank robber he’d seen on a MOST WANTED sign at the post office.
But no one said they knew Joe.
“Well, that was a big waste of time,” Josh muttered.
On the way out of the basement, the kids passed the hot dog stand. Josh unfolded his drawing. “Have you seen this guy?” he asked the woman.
She laughed. “Are you trying to be cute with me, sonny boy?”
“What do you mean?” Josh asked.
“I mean,” the woman said, tapping the drawing with one finger, “this is a picture of you, only older.”
The kids took a closer look at the sketch.
“She’s right!” Ruth Rose said. “It does look like Josh, except for the mustache.”
“That’s why everyone said this guy looks familiar,” Dink said. “He looks just like you!”
Josh stared at his drawing. “So there is no Joe?”
The woman behind the cart had been listening. “Sounds like you’ve been sent on a wild-goose chase,” she said.
“But why would Dot have us looking for some guy who isn’t even real?” Josh asked. “I don’t get it.”
Dink shrugged. “I don’t, either,” he said. “Why don’t we ask her? The supermarket is right across the street.”
The kids carried their skis across Bridge Lane and into the supermarket. The store was almost empty on this snowy Sunday afternoon.
“Look,” Dink said, pointing to a small sign taped to the lottery machine:
CLOSED FOR THE STORM. SEE YOU TOMORROW.
