“Or she wants to chase the squirrel again,” I say with a laugh. On second thought, chasing the squirrel again isn’t a bad idea, so I let Honey go. She springs from my arms and pads across the dusty floor, adding a fresh set of prints.
Honey sniffs a dark pile of something gross under the over-turned chairs. She circles around a table leg, her stubby tail swaying behind her. She paws at a shredded cushion then leaps to the couch frame. Not in any hurry, she gazes around like a window shopper.
I cross the room and pat her head. “You’re cute but no help.”
As I pet Honey, my gaze drifts down to the animal prints overlapping each other in dusty squiggles on the floor. Hmmm. Why so many prints in this corner?
I place Honey on the crate then push aside the cooler.
“Ooh, yuck.” I wrinkle my nose as a musty odor wafts up from a disgusting pile of decaying leaves, twigs, and tufts of fur. There are random objects too: a rusty spoon, broken pen, tarnished dime, silver key, and rhinestone beads. But it’s what’s behind the garbage pile that makes me gasp.
“Leo, Becca—look!” I point to a shadowy hole in the wall. The hole is no bigger than my hand with splintered edges and snagged bits of animal hair.
“So that’s how the animals got in and out.” Becca leans over.
“It’s so dark I can’t see the other side,” I say.
“Poke your hand through to find out,” Leo says with a challenge in his tone.
“Me? No way!” I think of spiders and other creepy-crawlers that could lurk in that tunnellike hole. “At least we know how Honey got inside.”
“But we haven’t learned anything about the kids who came here,” Becca adds with a wistful glance around the room. “I wonder if they were younger or older than us and if I’ve ever met them.”
Leo gestures to the table with its dusty soda-can centerpiece. “We know they liked soda.”
“What else did they leave behind?” I turn to the cooler. It’s so faded (or just really dusty) that it’s more pink than red. Its hard plastic sides are speckled with dirt and animal prints. I push aside a sticky cobweb (relieved not to see the spider that made it) then blow off dust and lift up the lid.
Becca peers over my shoulder and sighs. “Only more snacks and drinks.”
I sigh too, because I’d hoped to find something mysterious. Unfortunately real life isn’t as thrilling as the plots in my mystery books, where an old clock reveals a hidden will, a brassbound chest hides love letters, or a haunted attic holds dazzling jewels. All we find in the cooler are four orange sodas, more chip bags, a box of chocolate-chip granola bars, and a baggie with shriveled blackish things that might have been carrots.
I start to close the cooler when I notice an edge of blue poking out from beneath one of the soda cans. Pushing the can aside, I slide out a thin plastic pouch. I slide the zipper open and see some papers inside. A thrill pulses through me. Hidden papers in a hidden pouch in a hidden tree house! Could they be pages from a secret journal? Love letters? A treasure map?
“What’s inside?” Becca asks, tugging on my arm.
I lift out the papers. The first page is blank except for black-inked letters: Property of ARC.
I reach deep inside and pull out a bundle of green paper.
No, not paper: fives, tens, and twenty dollar bills.
Over two hundred dollars!
- Chapter 5 -
Cash and Clues
We stare at the money, our mouths open in surprise.
Why would anyone abandon money in a tree house? I can understand leaving food behind. But money? Especially so much! I don’t care how big of a hurry I was in, I’d come back for a pouch of money. Something really terrible must have happened to the kids who hung out here.
Did one of them get sick or even worse?
“Can I count the money?” Leo asks with his palm out.
Nodding, I hand the cash over and watch him quickly shuffle through the bills. “Two hundred and twenty-nine dollars,” Leo announces.
“Wow!” Becca exclaims. “That’s like a fortune.”
“It’s more than we’ve ever had in our CCSC treasury.” Leo fans the cash in his hand. “The most was one hundred and four dollars, and that’s only because of a one-hundred-dollar reward for returning that Chihuahua with the jeweled collar.”
“We didn’t have that much for long because we donated half to the Humane Society,” Becca adds proudly.
We use half of any money we earn for club expenses then donate the other half to animal charities. Helping animals is our club goal.
I finally ask the question that I know we’re all thinking.
“What are we going to do with it?”
We stand there awkwardly, surrounded by dust and cobwebs, looking at each other as if waiting for someone else to come up with the answer.
“It doesn’t belong to us so we can’t keep it.” Leo slips the cash back in the plastic container.
“We have to return it to the kids who hung out here,” Becca agrees. “Do you think they go to our school?”
“Maybe,” I say. “But then why not come back for their stuff? It’s obvious no one has been here in months.” I tap my finger on the rim of the cooler, shifting into detective mode and mentally adding up clues. “We know one or more people—probably kids—were getting ready for lunch when something happened.”
“They liked to play games,” Leo adds as he uses his handkerchief to pick up a dusty deck of cards from beneath a chair.
“If they’re still in Sun Flower, we can find them,” I say with rising confidence.
Leo looks skeptical. “If they didn’t come back for the money, they probably don’t want to be found.”
“Maybe they witnessed a crime.” I shudder. “If they’re still alive, they could be in a witness protection program.”
“Nothing tragic happened to any kid around here, or I would have heard.” Becca reaches up to touch her crescent moon Sparkler necklace. “Rumors buzz around school—like that girl falling off her bike. Everyone was talking about her even before she returned to school with a cast on her leg. But I’ve never heard any rumors about a tree house tragedy.”
“Most likely the kids moved away,” I decide, sighing because moving isn’t mysterious. I should know—I’ve moved twice in one year.
Leo’s gaze sweeps over the filthy floor and dusty table. “According to the evidence here, there were a minimum of three kids and it’s unlikely all of them moved simultaneously.”
“Unless they’re in the same family,” I say. “Like my family.”
“Good point.” Leo folds his handkerchief then slips it into his vest pocket. “But the question still remains: why leave the money?”
“And how do we find them to return the money?” Becca adds.
“Sounds like a mystery for the CCSC.” I get that familiar thrill of excitement and can’t wait to pull out my spy pack hidden in my closet. “I’ll ask my dad what he knows about the people who used to live in our house.”
“I’ll analyze the photos when I get home.” Leo aims his phone and clicks more pictures.
“And I’ll find out if the kids went to our school,” Becca offers with a sweet smile that could turn even an enemy into a friend. She knows more people at school and on social media than I’ll probably meet in my entire life.
“First let’s read these.” I hold up the papers I found in the cooler.
“Property of ARC,” I read aloud. “What does ARC stand for?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Leo says. “The acronym represents a name. For instance, my initials are LNP.”
Becca scrunches her forehead. “Leopold what Polanski?”
“That’s classified information.” Leo glances away, avoiding our gazes as he bends down to snap a photo of dried animal poop.
“Classified?” I roll my eyes. “My middle name is old-fashioned but it’s no secret. I’m named after my great-grandmother, Alfreda.”
“And I have two middle names
after my aunts—Laurie Marcella,” Becca says. “Leo, tell us yours.”
But he shakes his head, his lips pressed tightly like they’re glued shut.
“Why won’t you tell us?” I persist. “It’s just a name.”
“A humiliating name.”
Now I really have to know. Curiosity itches like a bad case of poison oak and the only cure is finding out the truth.
“You can trust us, Leo,” Becca says in her sweetest tone. “We’re more than club mates—we’re friends.”
His face reddens and he shifts his gaze to his dust-speckled black shoes. “I never tell anyone,” he says.
“It’ll be listed in public records,” I point out. “I could look it up.”
“A friend would respect my privacy.” Leo frowns.
“Well…” The itch to know what N stands for has risen beyond curiosity to a quest. Still, Leo is my friend. I sigh. “All right, I won’t research your name. But if I guess right, will you tell me?”
“Yes.” Leo smirks. “Because you will never guess.”
A challenge I can’t ignore. “Nathanial, Nickolas, Noel, or Ned?”
Leo shakes his head. “Incorrect.”
I try again. “Neil, Norman, Nathan?”
“Not even close. If you knew, you’d tease me.”
“Tease you?” I say in mock innocence. “We would never.”
“Never,” Becca echoes but ruins the sincerity of her promise by giggling.
“It must be really embarrassing.” I snap my fingers. “Are you named for the mythical god Neptune?”
Now I’m giggling, which sets off Becca. When Leo glares at us, I feel guilty for teasing him so I say sorry, then switch the subject by waving the papers in my hand. “Let’s see what else is in here.”
“A secret code!” I snap my fingers. “I’ve been studying codes forever.”
“It could be a geometry equation.” Leo traces his finger across the odd symbols.
“Or doodles,” Becca adds. “I love to doodle fashion designs.”
“I’m sure it’s a code. I can look it up in my Deciphering Cryptic Codes book,” I offer. “It’s in my room. I’ll go get it.”
“Look it up later,” Becca says with a wave of her purple-polished fingers. “What’s the next paper say?”
I fold up the first page of codes and tuck it into my pocket. The next paper has two columns of handwritten (messy) names:
Bandit
Dehydration
Muffy
Bloody foot
Willow
Animal bite
Bagel
Infected ear
Skitty
Hypothermia
Xavier
Head trauma
“This list seems strange.” Becca knits her dark brows together. “The names are weird too. Who names a kid Bagel?”
“Someone who loves bagels?” I think of Dad’s berry-swirl bagels and smack my lips.
“I know!” Becca jumps, and the wood boards beneath our feet quake. “These names aren’t for people! They’re animals.”
“Interesting theory,” Leo says with a thoughtful tilt of his head.
Suddenly Becca’s expression changes. “OMG! I was worried about one tragedy. But there are six!”
“I know dehydration means lack of water.” I turn to Leo. “But what’s hypothermia?”
“When your body loses heat faster than it can produce heat,” spouts off walking-dictionary Leo, “It causes a dangerously low body temperature.”
“Dehydration, a bloody foot, ear infection, animal bite, head injury, and freezing…maybe…to death.” I shiver even though the warm sunlight streams through the cracks in the wood beams over my head.
Becca frowns. “I hope no one died.”
“These injuries are painful but rarely lethal.” Leo presses his lips together as he stares at the paper. “I’m intrigued by the medical terms. Not many kids know the meaning of hypothermia and can also spell it correctly.”
“Why make a list of injuries?” I ask.
I turn to the last page and read out loud.
MEMBERS:
1. RJ
2. GAVIN
3. ZEE ZEE
“Are these human or animal names?” I wonder with a glance at my kitten, who is watching us curiously from her perch on the crate.
“Human,” Leo says without doubt.
Why is Leo always so sure he’s right? I’m annoyed, but I agree with him this time.
Adding up the clues, we know at least three kids met here: RJ, Gavin, and Zee Zee. Once we find them, we can return the money.
“There’s a girl in my science class named Rachelle Jennifer but everyone calls her RJ,” Becca says. “Also, there’s a Robert Junior who goes by RJ on the track team. And I have three online friends named Gavin.”
“Know anyone named Zee Zee?” I point to the paper.
“No. But it makes me think of Zed. I miss him.” Becca glances out the window, as if she can see all the way to Nevada where the zorse she used to care for recently moved. Zed—a hybrid horse/zebra—stayed at Wild Oaks Sanctuary until the Curious Cat Spy Club found his owner.
“So go see him,” I urge. “We have a whole week off school. Ask your mom to drive you to Nevada to visit Zed.”
“I’d love to. After Mom’s hard work at the Humane Society Fund-Raiser, she could use a break.” Becca’s frown curves into a hopeful smile. “It would be a fun road trip.”
I nod and glance over at Leo to see why he’s so quiet. He’s staring at the table as if the answers to our questions are written in the dust. Suddenly he snaps his fingers and spins around to face us. “That’s it!”
“What?” Becca and I ask.
“The purpose of these papers.” Leo’s blue eyes shine. “They’re notes for a club. This is a membership list.” He gestures to the paper I’m holding. “I don’t know why they wrote about animals—”
“I think I do!” Becca raises her hand like she’s first to answer a question in class. “They were caring for injured pets.”
“Then ARC isn’t someone’s initials,” I say. “It’s a club name.”
“Of course!” Leo smacks his palm on his forehead. “The ‘C’ is for Club.”
“A is for animals,” Becca adds.
“R could be for Recovery or maybe Rescue—Animal Rescue Club.” I grin. “Doesn’t it sound freaky familiar? Three kids meeting in a hidden clubhouse with the goal of helping animals, just like us. I wonder if—”
I’m interrupted by a shout outside.
“Drats! It’s Dad!” I spring over to the trap door and lift the handle to peer down through the leafy branches. “He’s calling for me and headed this way!”
“Why are you whispering?” Leo gives me a puzzled look. “Shouldn’t you let him know you’re here?”
“And ruin all the fun of having a hidden tree house?” I shake my head. “I’ll wait till he’s gone then climb down. I don’t want my family to know about this. It’ll be our secret hideaway.”
I hold my breath when Dad calls my name again. He walks down the bricked path to the driveway and stops to check out Becca’s bike.
Becca squeezes my arm. “He knows I’m with you.”
“But he doesn’t know we’re up here.” I put my finger to my lips. “Speak without talking.”
“Like this?” She mouths. “Can you understand me?”
I nod.
“I hope he doesn’t find us.”
“Would you two stop not talking?” Leo complains. He’s not a fan of lip-reading since he can’t do it.
“Shhh!” I whisper with my finger to my mouth.
The trap door is open a crack so we can watch Dad as he looks around the yard and then up into the tree. I know he can’t see us because I stood exactly where he is and only saw dense leaves. Still, I grip the trap door so tightly my knuckles ache.
Becca’s nervous fingers dig into my arm. Leo watches too, but his expression is relaxed like he’s calcula
ted the odds of our being discovered and determined that they are low.
Dad calls my name once more then shrugs and turns away from the tree.
I blow out the breath I’d been holding. “He’s going around to the backyard. This is our chance to leave!”
Becca is already lowering herself through the trapdoor. Her foot dangles inches over the slats. She almost has her foot on the top slat when her fingers slip. She falls and—
Leo lunges forward to grab her wrist. He holds her until she finds her footing.
“Great catch,” Becca says breathlessly.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I am now…thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do anything special.” He’s trying to sound casual, but he’s blushing. “According to my calculations, a fall from this distance has only a 19 percent chance of fatality.”
“But falling would really hurt.” Becca smiles at Leo. “You 19 percent saved my life.”
Leo glances away, his face bright red like it’s on fire. I think back to our earlier conversation when he said he wanted to ask me something but not in front of Becca. Is it because he wanted to ask about her? A suspicion hits me, but it’s too weird to be true. Logical Leo couldn’t possibly have a crush on Becca.
Becca climbs down the tree and Leo follows, staying close. I start after them, until I remember Honey. I call her name and glance around the tree house. Where did she go now?
I hear a rustling behind the cooler.
Dust puffs up around my now-filthy sneakers as I move toward the hole in the wall.
I am really, really hoping I don’t have to put my hand in that gross hole. The mess piled beside it is bad enough. I don’t even want to imagine what’s on the other side of the hole.
Still…I can’t leave without Honey. So I get down on my knees, holding my breath to avoid the disgusting smells, and peek into the murky-black hole.
Beady eyes shine back at me.
Wild-animal eyes.
- Chapter 6 -
Dinner Rules
With a gasp, I jump away from the hole.
“Kelsey!” Leo’s voice comes from behind me, and I whirl around. His blond head pokes up from the trap door. “Are you coming?”
The Secret of the Shadow Bandit Page 3
