The Secret of the Shadow Bandit

by Singleton, Linda Joy

“Notched? What’s that?”

  “In some areas, free-roaming cats are a huge problem. So they’re trapped and brought into spay-neuter clinics where veterinarians donate their time to cut down on the cat population. Each cat gets a notch in one ear, identifying them as being spayed or neutered. Then they’re returned and released.”

  “Cats can survive on their own but not a ferret,” Becca adds with a worried frown. “Bandit needs a home where he’s safe from predators and harsh weather.”

  “I think Bandit lives here and gets in and out through there.” I point to the hole in the wall just beyond the huge pile of filth I still need to clean up. I grab the broom and—

  “Don’t sweep that!” Becca snatches the broom from my hands.

  “You want to do it? But your pretty jacket will get dirty.” I’m puzzled because she’s wearing her favorite pair of black jeans and a tiger-striped jacket over a silky yellow blouse.

  “We’re not going to clean it because it’s a nest. Bandit must be a female ferret,” Becca explains, bending over for a closer look. “Females have a nesting instinct and collect items to line their den.” She points to a ripped sock sticking out from the bottom of the pile. “If this is Bandit’s home, it would be rude to sweep up her nest.”

  “Can I spray it with air freshener?” I pucker my nose.

  “No. Smells are important to animals. We need to let Bandit come and go as she pleases until we can find her a safe home.”

  “She might belong to Sergei,” I say.

  “Then why did she make a nest here?” Becca shakes her head.

  “I don’t know. And Sergei is too scary to question.”

  “A spy must be fearless when interrogating a subject,” Becca quotes.

  “No fair using my own quotes against me,” I say, but I’m grinning because it’s nice to have a friend who knows me so well. “I’ll try to talk to him. But I don’t know when I’ll get a chance. It’s not like I’m invited to the castle every day.”

  “You’ll figure out a way. And if you find out that Bandit is homeless then I’ll tell Mom and she’ll know how to help. I read up on ferrets when we got the Fur Bros. Ferrets lost their hunting instinct centuries ago. They’re cute little guys but totally reliant on humans. Bandit wouldn’t have survived more than a few days if someone wasn’t feeding her. Oh!” Becca cups her hand to her ear. “I hear Leo’s gyro-board.”

  Sure enough, Leo pops up through the trapdoor a few moments later.

  “Impressive!” he says as he surveys the tree house. “I can breathe without covering my mouth or sneezing.”

  “Kelsey did all the work.” Becca gestures toward me.

  Leo smiles at me. “Great job. You’re very efficient.”

  It feels nice—but strange—to get a compliment from Leo. When I realize I’m blushing, I change the subject. “Nigel?”

  “Huh?” Leo blinks.

  “Your middle name. You said if I guessed right you’d tell me.”

  “You’re far from guessing right,” Leo says with a laugh.

  “Nesbitt, Neville, Nyles, Nunzio?”

  “Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.” Smiling smugly, Leo sits in a metal chair beside me.

  Sighing, I give up the name game for now and get down to club business. “Now that we’re all together, I can tell you about last night. Not only did I get a tour of the castle but I found a mystery to solve.”

  “Another one?” Leo furrows his forehead. “Our top priority is to return the $229 to the ARC kids—and I’ve uncovered pertinent information.”

  “If you’re going to tell us the long skinny paw prints were a ferret, we already know,” Becca interrupts.

  “A ferret?” Leo cocks his head to the side. “That explains why I didn’t find a match online—I was searching for wild animals not domesticated ones. I printed a poster of wild paw prints native to northern California.” He pulls out a sheet of paper from his backpack and unrolls it flat.

  “Oh, it’s lovely!” Becca holds the paper up to catch light. “The drawings are so realistic.”

  “I have no use for it.” Leo offers her the poster. “Keep it.”

  “Really? Thanks! I’ll put it on my ceiling with my other favorite posters.” Becca has an “upside-down” bedroom with her belongings high above the floor so they’re safe from her goat and other pets.

  “It’s just a print-out,” Leo says with a shrug. “Nothing special.”

  “But it’s special to me. Thanks so much!” She gives Leo a quick hug.

  “Um…you’re welcome.” Leo face burns crimson but he’s smiling like he was the one given a gift; not the other way around. And that weird idea I’d had yesterday returns. Could Leo like Becca?

  Impossible, I assure myself. Leo is too logical for a romantic crush. He blushed because Becca’s hug embarrassed him. Besides, they don’t have much in common. Leo’s an introvert and interested in science—which is more like me than Becca. And Becca already likes someone—Trevor Auslin. If Leo liked her romantically it would be a one-way trip to heartbreak.

  “Returning to CCSC business.” Leo straightens his shoulders as if to shake off his awkwardness. “Before we take on a new mystery, we need to return the $229 dollars.”

  “But we don’t know how to find RJ, Zee Zee, or Gavin,” I point out.

  “Au contraire,” Leo says in a bad French accent. “I’ve uncovered new information.”

  “What?” Becca and I both ask, leaning forward eagerly.

  “According to my calculations, the ARC kids age range is ten through eighteen, with a 57 percent likelihood they attend Helen Corning Middle School or Sun Flower High. Without their full names, though, finding them was a challenge. Until I searched Sun Flower High yearbooks”—he pauses dramatically—“and located one of the kids.”

  - Chapter 11 -

  Surveillance

  “Her name is Zenobia Zoller,” Leo says.

  “But her friends call her Zee Zee,” Becca guesses with an excited jump.

  “Precisely.” Leo nods. “She’s in ninth grade at Sun Flower High, and I know her address. Let’s go talk to her now.”

  “Wait, Leo!” I cry when he lifts the trapdoor. “It’s too early to visit someone we don’t even know,” I explain. “Zenobia is probably still asleep.”

  “Who sleeps past 9 a.m. on a weekend?” Leo looks so puzzled that Becca and I giggle. Leo has a habit of assuming others behave like he does.

  “I wouldn’t have minded sleeping in, but I got here early to hear Kelsey’s news,” Becca says. She turns to me curiously. “What happened last night?”

  “I had a tour of Bragg Castle and found out about a theft,” I say in a rush of excitement. “Someone stole an emerald chess piece.”

  “A genuine emerald?” Leo drops the trapdoor with a soft thud.

  “Nothing but the best for King Bragg,” I paraphrase Irwin’s words from last night with a grin. Now that I have their attention, I launch into the details of my evening with the King of Resorts, starting with the brass door knocker.

  “The dungeon was kind of creepy,” I say with a delicious shiver. “I loved it.”

  “Obviously not a real dungeon,” Leo scoffs. “American castles can’t compare with the historical architecture of European castles.”

  “Mr. Bragg said his castle was designed after a Scottish castle. The dungeon has thousands of wine bottles and a room with bars like a prison.”

  “A wine vault,” Leo guesses, and I don’t bother to tell him he’s right.

  Instead, I explain how I tried to talk to Mr. Bragg. “It didn’t go well.” My shoulders slump. “He got mad when I asked about the kids who lived in our cottage. He insists no kids ever lived here.”

  Becca purses her lips. “But that can’t be true.”

  “This tree house wasn’t made for adults,” Leo agrees. “The ceiling isn’t very high and the trapdoor isn’t wide enough.”

  “Also the club notebook and money we found prove kids were here.” I drum my f
ingers on the table. “Either Mr. Bragg doesn’t know about this tree house or he lied to me. But why would he lie? And why did my question make him angry? His nephew, Irwin, acted secretive too, though he’s much nicer. Leo, you’d get along great with him.” I grin mischievously. “Irwin reminds me of you.”

  “Do we share a physical countenance?” Leo smooths back his blond hair. “Or are you speaking metaphorically?”

  I roll my eyes. “I just meant that Irwin is smart and talks with big words like he swallowed a dictionary. When Mr. Bragg left to take a business call, Irwin took us into the toy room—where I bumped into a cabinet and found a jeweled chess set. The rubies and emeralds were dazzling! But when I counted them I realized one was missing—the emerald king. Irwin told me it was stolen.”

  “Does he know who stole it?” Becca asks.

  “I don’t think so. He acted nervous like he regretted telling me that much and he said not to mention it to King Bragg because it would upset him.”

  “I’d be upset too if I lost an expensive chess piece.” Leo gazes at a stain on the table, his expression faraway like his thoughts are in a distant galaxy, then he blinks and returns to Earth. “According to my calculations, the chess set should be worth eighty-eight thousand dollars.”

  Becca’s jaw drops. “That’s a lot for a game!”

  “Chess is more than a game. It’s about strategy and war and history.” Leo strokes his chin thoughtfully. “But why would a thief steal only one piece?”

  “Exactly what I wondered,” I say.

  “Since the chess set is so valuable, there might be a reward for the emerald king’s return.” Becca’s dark eyes shine. “If we can find out who stole the missing piece and there is a reward, we could donate to the feral cat program.”

  “Only you could turn a mystery into an opportunity to help animals,” I say fondly. Becca has a heart big enough to care for every animal in the world.

  “We can investigate the emerald king after we talk to Zenobia. I vote that we go to her home now. Do I hear a second?”

  Becca and I share a look. I have a bad feeling about going on surveillance with little information about the subject, but when Leo gets stubborn there’s nothing to do except what he wants.

  “Sure,” Becca tells Leo, but he just stares at her like he’s not satisfied with her answer until she adds, “I second the motion.”

  “Motion passed.” The trapdoor creaks as Leo pulls it open. “The house isn’t far from here.”

  When he describes the route to Zenobia’s house, I realize she lives in the neighborhood I saw while peering through the toy room window at Bragg Castle. All the houses looked as small as dollhouses.

  “I have to lock Honey in my bedroom before I go,” I say as I hold my kitten tight and hurry toward the house. “I just hope she stays there this time.”

  As I cut through the kitchen, I’m relieved that it’s empty. Usually Dad is making breakfast but he left early for his first day of work at the castle. And Mom loves to sleep in on her days off.

  I shut Honey in my room (and tell her very firmly to stay here) then go over to my closet and stand on my tiptoes to reach up to a high shelf for my spy pack.

  The pack always feels heavy on my shoulders, and I consider taking a few things out, like the night vision goggles or my fingerprint kit. But I don’t want to leave anything useful behind.

  Spy Strategy 5: Always prepare for the unexpected.

  As I leave my room, I hear voices across the hall. My sisters are awake—and arguing in Kenya’s room.

  “Give them back!” Kiana shouts.

  “I told you I don’t have your stupid shoes!” Kenya shrieks.

  “You didn’t even ask permission.”

  “Don’t blame me—you lost them.”

  I don’t hear the rest because I’m hurrying down the hall, afraid if my sisters see me they’ll accuse me of stealing their shoes—which would just be silly because my feet are smaller than theirs.

  I leave a note on the fridge for Mom, saying I’m with my friends. Then I join Becca and Leo outside, hop on my bike—and we’re off!

  It’s a short ride to the neighborhood, which feels newer with sprawling homes in pale colors of beige, tan, and ivory, and yards so green and perfect they’re probably manicured by the same gardening service.

  Zenobia’s tawny-brown paneled house is angled on a huge corner lot. A blue sedan is parked in the driveway, but the house looks dark with closed windows like sleeping eyes. We ride around the block slowly, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves.

  After our third time around, Leo slows his gyro-board to a stop in front of Zenobia’s house. With no shadowy trees, our only cover is a pick-up truck parked on the street. We crouch low beside the large tires and strategize.

  “Either no one is home or they’re sleeping in,” Becca whispers.

  “We can’t stand around without a good reason or neighbors will get suspicious,” I say with an uneasy glance at the house next to Zenobia’s where a cat is meowing at the front door. “Surveillance means watching without being noticed. I’ll pretend something’s wrong with my bike chain.”

  “Good idea,” Leo approves.

  “And I’ll check online to see if I can find out more about Zenobia,” Becca offers, withdrawing her sparkly pink cell phone from her pocket. “Anyone watching will think I’m calling for help to fix Kelsey’s bike.” She taps her screen. “Luckily Zenobia is an unusual name…Ah! Found her Facebook page. But only one photo and it’s of a bearded rabbit. Seriously? Doesn’t she know anything about maintaining a social media presence?”

  “Cute bunny,” Leo says as he glances down at the screen.

  I tilt my head up from my bike-in-fake-distress position so I can look too. Hands with blue and red nail polish hold the long-haired black-and-white bunny. There’s a short caption: My sweet Muffy.

  “Muffy?” I test the name in my memory. “Why is that name familiar?”

  “It’s from that animal list in the ARC papers,” Leo says. “Muffy had a bloody foot. Bandit was dehydrated. Willow was bitten by an animal. Bagel’s ear was infected. Skitty had hypothermia, and Xavier had head trauma.”

  “You remember all that?” I ask, impressed.

  Leo nods like having a photographic memory is no big deal.

  “I’m glad Zenobia kept the rabbit.” Becca slips her phone back into her jeans pocket. “I wonder what happened to the other animals.”

  “Zenobia will tell us after we return the money,” Leo says confidently, patting his pocket where he tucked the cash.

  “I don’t think she’s home.” I straighten up to look at the house then turn to Leo. “If you had your Dragon Drone or Bird Drone, we could spy through the windows.”

  “My drones aren’t equipped with infrared vision, so they couldn’t see into a darkened dwelling.”

  “What about your new project?” I ask. “Would it work for surveillance?”

  “Yes…but it’s still in the experimental stage.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out several small objects like popcorn kernels. They’re sticky-looking like Scotch tape and reflect Leo’s fingers like a mirror without any color of their own. “These are prototypes for my GPF.”

  “What’s that stand for?” Becca asks.

  “I’d rather not say until they’re perfected.” He puts the GPF back in his pocket then asks to use my compact binoculars.

  I slip the pack from my shoulder then sift through my spy tools until I find the binoculars.

  As Leo peers through them, I watch him curiously, wondering if he’s a mystery that needs to be solved too. He’s being unusually secretive about his new invention. Also, he’s been acting weird, wanting to ask me a question but not in front of Becca, then later denying the whole thing. And when Becca hugged him, he almost fell over with embarrassment but he had this goofy smile on his face.

  I don’t want to believe it, but the evidence adds up. Leo has a crush on Becca—which will lead to heartbreak and
could destroy the CCSC.

  “Kelsey, Becca! Look!” Leo lowers the binoculars and points. “Someone’s coming out of the house next to Zenobia’s.”

  I lean forward, squinting at a woman wearing jogging clothes and holding the leash of a large Doberman. She pauses in her front yard to stretch her legs then jogs down the sidewalk—right toward us!

  Leo tosses me the binoculars and hops onto his gyro-board. “We have to get out of here. She’s headed our way.”

  I shove the binoculars inside my spy pack but I don’t climb onto my bike.

  Spy Strategy 11: Knowing when to fight or flee is the mark of a clever spy.

  “I think we should stay,” I say. “I’ll keep pretending something is wrong with my bike, and we’re trying to fix it. She won’t even notice us.”

  “And if she does, I’ll question her,” Becca says. “This could be our opportunity to find out about Zenobia.”

  “Or get attacked by a Doberman.” Leo frowns at the approaching dog.

  “Dobermans get a bad rap. I can tell this one is a sweetie,” Becca assures him, boldly walking toward the jogger and her dog.

  “We better go with her,” I whisper to Leo though I’m uneasy too. I love dogs, but I respect them enough to know to approach a strange dog with caution.

  Becca waves at the jogger with one hand and holds out her other hand so the dog can smell her friendly vibes. The dog wags its short tail as it yanks on the leash. When it licks her hand, I exhale the breath I’d been holding.

  “Beautiful dog,” Becca says. “May I pet him?”

  “Bradley loves attention,” the woman says, pausing but still jogging in place. Her eyes are hidden behind sunglasses but I can see her face is tan like she’s outdoors a lot. She’s around thirty and wears an electronic pedometer on her wrist.

  “I’m Becca,” she says quickly with her widest smile. “And these are my friends, Kelsey and Leo. We were coming to visit Zee Zee but it doesn’t look like anyone is home.”

  The woman’s eyebrows arch. “Didn’t she tell you?”

  Becca frowns. “What?”

  “The whole family went on a Mexican cruise for spring break. I’m caring for their pets and plants while they’re gone.”