Ms. Luna peeked into the teacher’s lounge, which was no longer alleged (because I was about to see it with my own two eyes), and no alleged teachers were in there messing up the crime scene. “All clear,” she said, and we went inside.
This must have been what that astronaut dude Neil Armstrong felt like when he stepped on the moon for the first time. We all gazed around in wonder. There was a big long table with lots of chairs and a coffeemaker and a microwave and a fridge and (WHAT?!?) a box of donuts just sitting on the counter that still had little donut holes left in it!
I looked at Ms. Luna, then at the box of donut holes, then back at Ms. Luna. She shook her head at me. “We’re just here to investigate, Aven,” she said.
Ms. Luna held the magnifying glass and recording pen for me while I searched around where the cake had been. When I got to one corner of the room, I had her hand me the magnifying glass, and I studied a leftover smear of chocolate frosting that had been missed. “Aha!” I said. “Please turn on the recording pen.” Ms. Luna did as I asked, and I decided she was a fine assistant. I stood up and cleared my throat. “Paw print!”
Ms. Luna turned off the pen and got down to study the print. “Oh my goodness,” she said and looked up at me. “You’re right!”
Of course I was right! “I think we should visit the next crime scene,” I said. “The cafeteria.” And lucky for us, a new crime had just been committed that morning. All the lunch workers were breaking out brooms just as we walked in the door. “Stop!” I cried. They were going to sweep up all the evidence. Amateurs.
Ms. Luna walked behind me as I followed the trail of Tater Tots through the kitchen and out the doorway. Then down, down, down the stairs. All the way to another place we’d never been before—the basement!
Ms. Luna pushed on the door to the basement. “The lock is broken,” she said. “Look at this.” She pushed the door open and closed. Then we all entered the cold, dark basement.
Ms. Luna flipped a few switches before a bulb hanging from the ceiling finally came on. “Stay close,” Ms. Luna whispered to all of us as we crept through the place, the one light bulb barely enough light to see anything very well.
There was lots of theater stuff, like the barn from the Old MacDonald play the kindergarten did. Boy, was that a baby play. And I knew because I was in it. I played a cow that went moo moo here and moo moo there.
We heard a scary creaking sound, and I shivered. Creak, creak. Someone whimpered. I think it was me, but I decided I would blame Robert if anyone said anything.
“Don’t worry,” Ms. Luna said. “That’s just the radiator. It gets pretty cold down here.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I said bravely. Then I gave Robert a look that said Stop being such a baby. He stuck his tongue out at me.
Sujata pointed a shaking finger at a shelf that was covered, simply covered, in chopped-off hairy heads. I gulped a gulp of fear.
“They’re just wigs,” said Ms. Luna.
I turned around to look for Emily and Kayla because I was getting kind of scared, and I watched in horror as Robert grabbed a wig from the shelf and shoved it right on Emily’s head. “Ahhhhhh!” Emily screamed. “It’s got me!” She jumped around in a circle, slapping at her head. “Get it off!”
Just then Sujata reached up and grabbed the wig off Emily’s head and threw it across the basement, where it fell behind another shelf. Ms. Luna walked to Emily, who was now crying, and put an arm around her. “Thanks, Sujata,” Emily said through sobs.
Sujata smiled shyly down at the floor. “You’re welcome.”
Then Ms. Luna gave Robert the evil eye. “A letter will be going home today, Robert.”
I snickered because a letter was just about the worst thing that could ever happen, and Robert deserved the worst.
We kept walking through the basement, Ms. Luna now holding Emily’s and Sujata’s hands. I pointed at a mysterious thing on a shelf. “What is that mysterious thing?” I asked.
“Oh,” said Ms. Luna. “That’s a typewriter.”
“What’s a typewriter?” asked Kayla.
“It was used to type papers. With ink,” explained Ms. Luna.
“Who used it?” asked Emily, her voice still shaking.
“Cavemen,” Robert whispered.
“No, not cavemen,” said Ms. Luna. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
“Then why didn’t they just use a computer?” asked Kayla.
“We didn’t used to have computers,” said Ms. Luna.
“Wow,” said Robert. “You must be really, really old.”
Ms. Luna frowned. “Let’s move on, everyone,” she said.
I pointed at a wooden paddle-looking thing with little holes in it. “What’s that for?” I asked. “Looks like a wooden fly swatter.”
“Oh my,” said Ms. Luna, her hand going up to her cheek. “Well, that’s, um . . . That’s . . . ”
“Spit it out, for goodness sake,” said Robert.
“That’s for spanking.”
We all gasped. “Who gets spanked?” cried Kayla.
Ms. Luna shifted on her feet. “Well,” she said. “When I was little, kids got spanked when they misbehaved in school.”
“What in the world?” I cried. “Did you ever get spanked?”
Ms. Luna’s brown cheeks had turned bright red. “Just once,” she said.
“What did you do?” Emily asked.
“I think we should just keep moving,” said Ms. Luna.
“Yeah,” I said. “Good thing you’re not allowed to get spanked anymore, right, Ms. Luna?”
“Actually,” said Ms. Luna, “it’s still legal here in Kansas, even though our school doesn’t use it anymore.”
“Legal,” Emily said. “What’s that mean?”
“It means it’s not against the law,” said Ms. Luna. “It’s still allowed.”
“Spank Robert for what he just did to Emily!” said Kayla. “Spank him!”
Robert slapped his hands against his cheeks. “Nooooo!” he whined.
“No, Kayla,” said Ms. Luna. “Moving on now, please.” She gave us all a look.
That was too bad because Kayla was really on to something with this whole Robert getting spanked idea.
Suddenly, Emily screamed, “Dead body! Dead body!”
Ms. Luna grabbed the body from the corner. “It’s just a CPR dummy.”
Kayla frowned. “Dummy is not a nice word. My mom told me.”
Ms. Luna dropped the dummy and held a hand to her chest. “I’m going to have a heart attack before we get out of here.”
But this basement was the most exciting place I’d ever been in my whole life! Emily had gotten attacked by a hairy wig. And now I knew I could spank Robert if I wanted to because it was legal. And we found out that Ms. Luna was so old she knew what a typewriter was. And now there was a dead dummy body!
I looked down and spotted a Tater Tot and remembered the whole reason we were down here in the first place. “This way,” I whispered to everyone, and they tippy-toed quietly through the basement, the radiator creaking. Suddenly I stopped. “Who’s whining?” I said. And I knew it wasn’t me this time.
Ms. Luna looked around the group. “Is everyone okay?” she asked. Everyone did not look okay. Emily looked cold and shivering. Kayla’s eyes were extra big. Sujata was sniffling.
“What was that?” Kayla whispered.
“Let’s find out,” I whispered back.
We followed the whining sound, winding our way around old computers and broken desks and cleaning supplies until we ran into a skeleton!
Everyone shrieked.
“It’s aliiiiiive!” Robert shouted.
“No, it’s not!” said Ms. Luna. “It’s just for science class.” She picked up its hand and jiggled it, making all the bones knock together. It whined again. Kayla dove behind a giant tower of baskets, Sujata covered her face with her hands, and Emily looked like she might faint.
Ms. Luna let go of the skeleton’s hand and peeked aroun
d a bookshelf. She laughed. Then she looked at me and said, “Aven, come here.”
I walked on shaky but strong legs to Ms. Luna.
“Look,” she said.
I peeked around the bookshelf, and there he was—the culprit! The criminal! The food thief! The whiner!
It was Smitty!
And also a mess of bread and cake and Tater Tots and Ms. Luna’s brand-new lunch bag, though I wasn’t sure she’d want it anymore since it was all smeared with Smitty’s slobber.
Chapter 17
Celebration Dinner
That night, we were all so happy that we decided to have a celebration dinner with Grandma and Smitty and Emily and Kayla. And Mom made the most special dinner in the whole world—buttered noodles!
And guess what else? Sujata showed up! Turns out Sujata had been really sad since leaving her friends and family behind at the place she used to live—a very mysterious place called Baltimore.
After we found Smitty, and Grandma came and picked him up and all the excitement died down, Kayla, Emily, and I asked Sujata to play with us at recess. Emily was so grateful to Sujata for saving her life from the hairy wig, and I thought Sujata had showed tremendous bravery down in the basement.
Then Sujata told us she’d been sad because she was lonely and she even cried a little, and I said, “I know how to solve that!” Then we all four played together at recess, and I invited her over to our house for dinner. So I had officially solved The Mystery of the New Girl Sujata’s Sad Eyebrows. This was the busiest week ever.
Emily, Kayla, Sujata, and I sat on the living room floor petting Smitty. After he’d had a bath, of course. He’d been all covered in dust and peanut butter and spiderwebs from hiding down in the school basement.
“What if we’d found Smitty, and he was wearing one of those wigs down there?” Kayla said. “Like a disguise?”
“Yeah, and what if we’d found Smitty,” I said, “and he was using the typewriter to send secret letters, and it turned out he was a time-traveling spy dog from hundreds of years ago and that’s why he knew how to even use a typewriter?”
Emily’s eyes got huge. “What if we’d found Smitty, and he was eating a whole pile of Tater Tots?”
Sujata nodded quietly, and I sighed. “That’s basically what really did happen, Emily.” Sheesh. She really needed to work on her creativity skills.
Sujata didn’t talk much yet, but that was okay. Because it’s okay to be shy, of course! I was shy once. It was on a Wednesday afternoon in kindergarten.
Then we all ate dinner together and Mom surprised us with a special celebration cake that I helped her bake myself. It was the kind with carrots in it, but you can’t taste the carrots at all, and that makes it taste extra good. I really loved helping Mom bake that cake.
But the best part of the night was when Grandma whispered to me, “It was all because of you, Aven. You’re the best P.I. in the whole world.”
And I knew she was right.
Chapter 18
Retirement
After dinner, my friends’ parents came and picked them up, and we drove Grandma and Smitty home. When we got to Grandma’s, we saw that her neighbor, Ralph, was out on his loud riding lawnmower. Smitty hunched down in the car and whined. “Yep,” I said. “That definitely scared him.”
Dad got out and asked Ralph if he could turn the lawnmower off. Then they talked a second, and Dad walked back to the car. “You can take him in now,” said Dad. “And he’ll make sure to warn you before he mows from now on, so you can keep an eye on Smitty.”
“Wonderful,” said Grandma. We all got out of the car and walked Grandma up to her trailer, then she gave me a little hug and went inside with Smitty.
“Come here, Aven,” Dad said, putting his arm around me and walking me over to Ralph. “This is Mr. Pitt.”
I giggled, and Mr. Pitt shrugged. “Yeah, when I was in school, they called me Ralph Armpit.”
“I don’t even have armpits,” I said.
Ralph nodded and smiled. “So your Dad said you might like to try driving the lawnmower.”
I looked up at Dad because how did he know?
He grinned down at me. “I know my Sheebs.”
Mr. Pitt stepped down from the lawnmower as I slipped off my flats. Then Dad helped me up on it and got on behind me. I gripped the steering wheel with my feet as Dad started the lawnmower back up. “How do you know how to work one of these things?” I asked Dad. All we had at home was a push mower.
“Oh, I know a lot of things,” he said, and that made me laugh because he really didn’t know that many things.
The sun was setting as I steered the lawnmower around Mr. Pitt’s and Grandma’s yards, and Dad only had to grab the steering wheel every few seconds to put me “back on track.” My heart was full of happiness knowing that Grandma and Smitty were inside the trailer together, safe and sound, while I got to drive the lawnmower.
On the way home, I let out a big sigh as I looked out the car window.
“What are you thinking about Aven Green Sleuthing Machine?” asked Mom.
“I’m thinking about retiring from the P.I. business,” I said.
Mom and Dad were quiet a moment. “Retiring, huh?” said Dad. “Why’s that?”
“Well, I just solved the biggest case I ever had. I feel like I should retire on a high note. Just like Grandma retired from the bread factory before that factory totally destroyed her back and when she was finally old enough for her penance.”
Mom giggled. “Pension.”
“I don’t want to destroy my back either,” I said. “And maybe I could get a pension, too.”
“What were you thinking exactly?” asked Dad
“Fifty dollars per day.”
“How about fifty cents per day?” said Dad.
“And only if you do all your chores,” Mom added.
“Yes!” I cried. I was going to be rich.
“But what will you do now?” asked Mom.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you know we believe you can do just about anything,” said Mom.
“I know.” I sighed. “The world is my toy store.”
Mom giggled again. “You mean the world is your oyster,” she said.
I frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would I even want an oyster? Gross. I like what I said better.”
“I think I do too, Sheebs,” said Dad. “And the world really is your toy store.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Especially now that I get fifty cents every day!”
“What do you think you’ll do with your new fortune?” asked Dad.
I thought a moment. “I really loved baking that carrot cake with Mom. Maybe I’ll start a baking business.”
“Oh,” Mom said. “The fair is coming up, and they always have a baking contest.”
“That’s it!” I said. “Watch out, world! Here comes Aven Green Baking Machine!”
Aven’s Sleuthing Words
Culprit: the person who did the crime
Hypothesis: a really good guess based on evidence about why something happened
Legal: not against the law
Pertinent: having to do with the matter at hand (or, in my case, at foot)
Premises: a really official way to talk about a building and the land around it
Alleged: something that might be pretend because there’s no proof
Amateur: someone who does not know what they are doing; not a professional
Acronym: when you take the first letter of each word in a name or phrase and put them together
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