The Mystery of the Zorse's Mask (6 page)

“But she's desperate to keep him. What if she asks us to help her hide Zed like we're doing with the kittens?”

“We can't hide a zorse in here,” Leo says with a gesture around the small shack. “Zed is large, energetic, and noisy.”

“That's for sure,” I agree. “He'd end up kicking out walls and smashing the window. And if Becca's mom organized a search party, they'd look here and find not just Zed but our kittens too.”

“That would be very bad.” Leo glances down at the kitten in his arms.

“Our secret clubhouse wouldn't be secret anymore,” I add, thinking how much I love being part of the CCSC and meeting in our clubhouse. I don't want it to ever end.

But it may end for me—if my family has to move away.

I still need to get ideas from my friends about finding a job for Dad. But that will have to wait till later.

Kneeling down on the wood floor, I wiggle the string for Honey to chase. Chris jumps out of Leo's arm to paw the string too. Leo goes over to the grandfather clock, metal pinging as he sorts through a pile of parts. I keep on playing with the kittens. They get distracted by a bug creeping up the wall. Honey pounces on the bug but misses. Chris jumps higher, but the bug crawls out of reach, and Chris somersaults to the floor, landing gracefully on his paws.

“They're so cute,” I say, laughing as I gesture for Leo to watch the kittens.

“They'll never catch that bug. It's much too high and—” He stops, staring at me. “Why are you wearing Becca's necklace?”

I reach up to touch my Sparkler necklace. I had hoped Leo wouldn't notice. I've been hiding it underneath my shirt, so he doesn't feel left out. Drats.

“Um … it's mine,” I say.

He leans closer to study the necklace. “Did Becca give it to you?”

“No. It's from the Sparklers. They all wear these necklaces.” He looks even more confused so I blurt out, “Didn't you see me sitting with them at lunch?”

“No.”

“I thought someone observant like you would have noticed.”

“I'm observant when it matters. I shut out distractions during lunch to concentrate on calculations on my tablet. I'm working on a microsized drone that will be an efficient surveillance tool.”

I might as well be talking to a drone. “The Sparklers invited me into their group temporarily, so I can help them plan a fund-raiser,” I tell him. “And they gave me this sparkly necklace.”

“The stones are artificial gems made of paste, glass, or gem quarts that are cut into facets to make them sparkle,” he says while studying me like I'm a test subject for an experiment he can't figure out. I can almost see gears churning in his head. Are they processing anger, envy, or hurt?

Me, I'm processing guilt. If I found out Becca and Leo were in a group without me, I'd feel left out. I should have sat with Leo at lunch. I wanted to … but I wanted to sit with the Sparklers more. Now I have new friends, and Leo's more alone than ever.

“I'll only hang with the Sparklers for a few weeks, and Becca and I won't tell them anything about the CCSC,” I assure him. “Becca and I will still meet here after school, take care of the kittens, and go biking to look for lost animals. So don't feel bad.”

“Why would I?” He shrugs. “You're stuck with those glitter-brains. I feel sorry for you.”

“
You're
sorry for
me
?” I glare at him.

“Yes.” He turns his attention back to the broken clock.

Unbelievable! Leo so doesn't get it. I rub my fingers over the crescent-moon necklace. It's an honor to be an honorary Sparkler. The best part was when Becca told the other girls that I was interesting and smart. It'll be fun to be almost popular for a few weeks. And the best part will be sharing the Sparklers with Becca.

The crunch of footsteps outside jerks me to alertness. The door bursts open and frightened kittens scatter. Becca rushes into the room, out of breath like she ran all the way up the hill.

“Wait till you hear my plan!” she exclaims, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.

Leo stands stiffly. “Is this an official CCSC meeting?”

“It can be if you want it to.” Becca picks up her kitten and pulls out her chair at the table.

“Then we need to sit at the table and call the meeting to order,” Leo says.

It's easier to go along with Leo than argue, so Becca and I sit with him at the table. We grab drinks from the cooler and some chips, then wait for Leo to talk.

“The CCSC meeting is called to order,” he says with his chin held high and papers in his hand. “Is there any old business to discuss?”

“No,” Becca says impatiently. “Skip ahead to the new business.”

“Clubs run on rules,” he goes on. “Following
Robert's Rules of Order
maintains fairness and democracy.”

“Says the dictator,” I whisper to Becca.

“I heard that but I choose to ignore it.” Leo picks up his papers. “I'll begin with the treasurer's report.”

Becca groans. “Can we skip that so I can tell you my plan?”

“With cat food, litter, and other expenses, our treasury has twenty-four dollars and twenty-seven cents,” Leo goes on. “I can show you the exact figures and expenditures.”

“Not now,” I say. “I want to hear Becca.”

Leo gives me a stern look. “Impatience is a waste of time.”

“You're the one wasting time,” I argue. “We can do boring club business later.”

“Finances are not boring,” he says. “They are fun.”

“Only to you,” I say, then turn to Becca. “So what's going on? Is this about Zed?”

“No, his fly mask.” Becca pauses to eat a chip. “I've been on the phone with Sophia's cousin Devin.”

“Who?” Leo asks.

“Sophia is from the Sparklers and her cousin Devin is the assistant manager for the Wear-Ever Thrift Store,” Becca explains. “I've only met Devin a few times, but I'd heard he likes my friend Christin's older sister, Amanda. I promised to hook him up with Amanda, which is easy because she already likes him but is too shy to tell him.”

“Huh?” Leo looks confused, but I totally get it. Becca is so genuine and friendly that people open up to her.

“I have a plan to help Zed.” Becca pauses then adds sadly, “I know Zed has to leave and I'm glad the grandmother will be with him again. But she's old. What will happen when she's gone? I heard Caleb tell Mom he's joining the rodeo circuit, which means lots of traveling, and he'll ride a horse, not a zorse. How can Caleb take care of Zed when he's traveling?”

“Caleb mentioned a sister,” Leo says. “She'll probably keep Zed.”

“But what if she doesn't?” Becca waves her hands dramatically. “Zed deserves to be with the person who loves him best. And that would be me.”

I hate to burst her happy bubble. Still.…

“Becca, be realistic.” I gently put my hand on hers. “Once Zed is gone, your mother won't let him come back. She won't even let you keep a small kitten.”

“Only because I haven't told her about Chris,” Becca argues, petting the ball of black-and-white fur curled on her lap. “If I ask her now, she'll say we have too many animals. So I'll ask after the humane society fund-raiser when most of our foster animals will be adopted. Mom won't have an excuse to say no to a cat or a zorse.”

Leo shakes his head. “Caleb won't give you a valuable zorse for free.”

“He might if he's grateful because I did something huge for him,” Becca says with a confident smile. “Then when his grandma can't take care of Zed anymore, Caleb will bring him back to me.”

“And why would he do that?” Leo asks skeptically.

“Because I'm going to find the jeweled fly mask for him tonight.” She grins at us. “And you're going to help me.”

Chapter 7

Sunflower Mary

I left the Skunk Shack hours ago, but I haven't been able to think of anything except Becca's fly mask plan.

I'm not sure whether to be excited or scared. I've longed to go on thrilling missions since I read my first James Bond novel. But I thought I'd have to wait until I was a grown-up or at least a teenager. Instead, tonight I'm searching a closed store.

I pull my spy pack down from its hiding spot in the back of the high closet shelf. It looks like an ordinary green backpack but is filled with cool stuff. It's heavy, so I'll carry only what I need. Last week was my first chance to use it on a for-real stakeout. It was exciting but not scary. But this time we're not just watching from the outside—we're going
inside.

In spy novels, detectives break into buildings all the time like it's no big deal. If they get arrested, they're quickly released or escape. But I'd freak out if I got arrested. And my parents would ground me forever.

I'm glad we have permission to go into the building. Unfortunately, the assistant manager, Devin, can't meet us there since he has tickets to an opera in San Francisco. But he's leaving us a key.

“He was rushing out the door when I called,” Becca explained. “He only had time to tell me the alarm code and where to find the key. Oh, and he couldn't get in touch with his boss, so he said to stay out of sight and don't turn on the lights.”

I'll need a flashlight
, I think as I dig into my spy pack for my flash cap. I made it myself by attaching a light on a sports cap. The light may be tiny, but the beam is powerful.

Should I bring my black knit cap?
I ponder. It covers my face and has eyeholes like a mask. But it's itchy and cuts off my peripheral vision. Since we have permission to go into the store, why hide my identity? So that would be a no.

What about my lock picks? I jingle the ring of different shaped picks in my hand. They don't weigh much, but why take them when we'll have a key? The assistant store manager told Becca he hid the key beneath a decorative stone turtle by the back door. Once we have the key, we will disable the alarm, unlock the door, find the fly mask, reset the alarm, and return the key.

Our mission is more like shopping than spying.

So why do I have a bad feeling?

“Don't be silly,” I tell myself, then get back to work.

I sort through my spy pack, taking out things I won't need, like the small mirror, laser pointer, bottle of graphite powder, plastic rain jacket, and energy bars.

What I leave in the spy pack:

Magnifying glass

Plastic gloves (never a good idea to leave fingerprints)

Roll of wire

Plastic baggies

Mini tool kit

Duct tape (I read a book called
101 Uses for Duct Tape
)

Flash cap

I'll use the baggies to wrap up two BLT sandwiches, so when I tell Mom I'm eating dinner with Becca, it won't be a lie. I just won't tell her
where
we're eating dinner.

My spy pack feels light on my back as I hop on my bike and pedal for Pleasant Street. It's only a few miles to Wear-Ever Thrift. The store is at the east end of downtown and backs up into a park with shady trees that will give us cover until we're covertly inside the store.

As a precaution, I stay off busy streets and wind through random side streets.

I'm not sure how it happens, but suddenly I'm at the edge of downtown, where the houses are older than the paved streets. Driveways are so narrow, cars spill over to the sidewalk or are parked on front yards like lawn ornaments.

From what I can see over fence tops, most yards are too small for a large dog to play fetch in. Thinking of dogs makes me miss Handsome. He loves to chase his Frisbee. I call him a “golden whip” because he's part golden retriever and part whippet—two very energetic breeds blended into the best dog ever. Even though he's huge, he used to curl up every night on my bed. When we lost our house, he moved in with Gran Nola. Now I only see him when I visit my grandmother.

I'm a block away from Pleasant Street when I slow down for yellow—not a traffic yield sign, but a fairy-tale cottage with a front yard glorious with sunflowers. There must be hundreds of stalks of golden flowers taller than me.

It's the most gorgeous garden ever! I stop my bike, balancing on my tiptoes, and admire the flowers. They're like a crowd of smiling faces, as if each sunflower represents a resident of Sun Flower and they're gathered together to party.

“Well, don't just gawk, missy. Come on over,” a crackly voice calls.

I look around but can't see through the blooming yard. I roll my bike a few feet until I see the tiny, wrinkled woman stepping off the porch. Her face is crinkled with age, but her black eyes shine bright. And she's hobbling surprisingly fast on her cane. She wears a flowing, mustard-yellow skirt with a white blouse trimmed in tiny brown beads.

“Don't be shy,” she says sweetly, her amber, tear-shaped earrings dangling as she leans against her cane. The cane's wooden handle is a carved sunflower. “Come visit with me. It isn't often young folks stop by, and I get lonely.”