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ISBN 9780593093498 (paperback)
ISBN 9780593093481 (library binding)
ISBN 9780593093504 (ebook)
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CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One: The Crime
Chapter Two: The Agency
Chapter Three: Whodunit?
Chapter Four: Clues
Chapter Five: Nibbles McSqueak
Chapter Six: The Pizza Thickens
Chapter Seven: I Have a Bad Feeling About This
Chapter Eight: Mrs. Sniffleton
Chapter Nine: No Clues Left
Chapter Ten: You Dunnit
Epilogue
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
THE CRIME
It was a normal day in the town of Berp. The sun was high in the sky, and a gentle breeze carried the sound of a lawn mower through Awesome Possum’s open window. He was having a wonderful dream, riding through space on Mr. Timms, and eating delicious pizza. The space breeze blew through his fur and—
“Wake up, Awesome Possum!”
Awesome Possum woke up to find an upset T. rex sitting on his feet.
“Possum, wake up! We have a case! A big case!”
It was his sister, Dino Detective, crack investigator and one half of Dino Detective and Awesome Possum, Private Eyes. The agency was a dynamite team of brother-sister private eyes, a dynamic duo of mystery solvers, always on the hunt for a new case.
But right now, one half of the agency did not want to get up. The thought of a big case would normally make Possum jump straight out of bed, but recently, Dino had raised a few false alarms.
Like the time that she thought she had FINALLY discovered evidence of aliens. (Mrs. Saunders, as it turned out, was a narwhal, not an alien.)
Or the time that she had thought Bigfoot was a shoe thief. (Bigfoot, apparently, had no interest in stealing Possum’s tiny shoes.)
“What IS it, Dino?”
“This is big, Possum, this is serious. Grandma Thunderclaps’s delicious Sicilian pizza—it’s, it’s . . .” Dino took a moment to compose herself.
“IT’S BEEN EATEN!” Dino sobbed.
“Eaten?!”
“Well,” said Dino, “more nibbled than eaten.”
Still, thought Awesome Possum, this could be a case. This could be THE case, the one that finally puts the agency on the map.
His blanket flew into the air as he jumped out of bed. Dino grabbed Plant, and they raced down to the kitchen.
Everything looked normal . . .
. . . except the pizza. From a distance, it didn’t seem like there was anything unusual. But as Possum got closer, he could see that Dino was right—it was covered in small nibbles. But even worse than the nibbling was the pepperoni. It was completely gone.
Who would do such a thing?
Who would commit such a terrible crime?
Dino Detective and Awesome Possum looked at each other with just one thought on their minds.
This sounded like a case for:
CHAPTER TWO
THE AGENCY
I know this is unusual, to hear from a plant, but you are reading a book about a talking dinosaur with a possum for a brother, whose grandmother’s pizza has just been mysteriously nibbled. So let’s just go with it.
These masterminds clearly think that this is a big deal, especially since they don’t get too many big deals. Dino Detective and Awesome Possum have been “investigating” “crimes” since they were knee-high to a dandelion. There has been no case too big for the agency, no case too small.
Which is just as well, because they tend to get a lot of small cases— generally lots of missing things, with the occasional whodunit. But each one has somehow demanded their full attention.
Dino has lots of ideas, some of them quite brilliant. But she tends to get a little . . . distracted.
Possum is different. He’s sharp and focused, just like their favorite TV character—Butch Malone. They are obsessed with him.
He has this TV show, Butch Malone, Private Eye, where he spends his time tracking down bad guys and solving crimes, all in the Big City. Do these people know how filthy the Big City is?
No self-respecting plant would go there: It’s just buildings and concrete everywhere.No comfy, soft soil, no clean flowing water, and just imagine the germs there. Ugh.
Anyway. These fools seem to think that Berp is a town chock-full of master criminals, and it is only a matter of time before they land a BIG CASE.
And they think this is it.
There’s just one thing. I know who did it. I’ve been watching the whole time.
CHAPTER THREE
WHODUNIT?
Dino looked over the scene. “Okay, Possum. I think it is clear what has happened here. The pepperoni has obviously grown legs and walked off. It’s finally happened. Now, where would it have walked to?”
“Hang on, Dino, there is more to it than that. Pepperoni doesn’t grow legs and walk off. Someone has eaten it.”
“But who?”
“Butch Malone always says that the most likely suspects are people the victim knew.”
Dino’s mind buzzed with possibilities, but she quickly shook them away. “It’s a pizza, Possum, not a victim. It didn’t know anyone.”
“You know what I mean. Who would have eaten it? Could it be someone from home?”
Possum and Dino eyed each other warily.
“Well, I didn’t eat it,” huffed Dino. “Why do you think I’m so hungry? I haven’t eaten anything all afternoon!”
Possum took out his pencil and scribbled down some possible suspects in his notepad.
It wasn’t anyone from the house. They would need to think bigger, think wider. There was a whole town out there. Someone was hiding a secret, a lie, and a taste for pizza. Who could it possibly be?
They needed to do some detective work.
CHAPTER FOUR
CLUES
Dino rushed around the crime scene, hoping for a clear sign of a break-in. But there were no muddy footprints or overturned chairs, no smashed doors or crowbars left lying around. There wasn’t even a ransom note demanding money.
Awesome Possum combed for clues and took out his notebook.
Possum and Dino used the clues to make a new list of suspects who WEREN’T family members. One name appeared on all of them: Nibbles McSqueak.
Nibbles was a mouse from Possum’s grade at school. He had the right bite size, and mice were
well known for being sneaky and loving cheesy pepperoni pizza. But was he a thief?
“Right!” said Dino. “It’s Nibbles! We go straight to the police, they lock him up, and then I can finally eat the evidence.”
“No, Dino. We cannot go to the police, not after last time. They won’t take us seriously.”
“That wasn’t my fault! I was certain that ninja had stolen my shoes!”
“That ‘ninja’ was a porcupine! Other people wear black shoes, too! Give it a rest, Dino!”
“Then what do we do?”
Possum thought back to his favorite Butch Malone episodes. If Butch suspected someone of a crime, did he run straight to the police? No. He found the suspect, watched his movements, collected evidence. That sort of thing.
“We need to find Nibbles. We need to watch his movements, collect evidence . . . that sort of thing,” Possum said confidently.
“Then we can eat pizza?”
“Yes, Dino. Then we can eat pizza. But first, we’ve got a case to crack.”
Across the room, Plant gazed out the window. Possum thought he heard a long, frustrated sigh, but it must have been the wind.
CHAPTER FIVE
NIBBLES MCSQUEAK
Nibbles McSqueak lived just a short walk away from Dino and Possum. When they arrived at his house, all seemed quiet. No trails of pepperoni, no pizza parties. Just a normal home. Except . . .
. . . they heard hushed voices coming from inside the garage. Possum moved closer. “What’s going on in there?”
“I say we bust right in, catch them in the act,” said Dino excitedly.
“We don’t even know what we would be catching them at. We can’t just barge in. We need to do some detective work.”
Dino saw some windows high on the garage wall. They scrambled up some boxes and looked in.
“Look, Possum. Pizza!”
Possum looked closer. “Yes, but all cheese toppings—no pepperoni. Shh . . . let’s listen.”
The mice at the table were listening intently to a larger, older mouse.
“Everything is coming together perfectly for our master plan,” said the large mouse. “Mikey, where are we with the fireworks?”
“We’re good, Boss. I’ll have boxes down at the launch site by midnight.”
The large mouse went on. “Nibbles, you got the goods?”
Possum’s ears pricked up. They looked on as Nibbles stepped out from the shadows, brought a bag forward, and placed it on the table for all to see.
“It could be our pepperoni!” whispered Possum.
“It was difficult, Boss,” said Nibbles, “but we did it.”
Nibbles went to open the bag.
A hush filled the room. The mice leaned in, eager to get a look. Dino and Possum struggled to see. Even Plant was curious . . .
It wasn’t the pepperoni.
“Me and Tony Four Fingers spent the whole afternoon in a drama class. You know Tony don’t do that stuff, Boss, but he played the part. We got ’em.”
“What are they doing with those?” asked Dino.
“Drama class?” whispered Possum. “Nibbles said he was there the whole afternoon.”
“That’s a pretty solid alibi.”
The large mouse continued talking, “Excellent, boys, excellent. These costumes will be the perfect disguises for our raid. Noodles, how are the numbers coming?”
“Looking good, Boss. My numbers are telling me it shouldn’t take more than an hour to reach our target. We will use Big Bertha to haul back the stolen goods.”
The large mouse looked around, satisfied. “You done good, boys, real good. No one can stop us now, no one even knows what we’re planning. But by the end of tonight, they’ll know. Oh boy, will they know.”
From outside the window, Dino shot a look at Possum. “No one can stop them? No one knows what’s happening? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Possum nodded seriously. “I think so . . . Mice. Disguises. Fireworks. Some kind of secret plot? This has absolutely nothing to do with our pepperoni.”
“Right. This is a waste of time! Calculations? Stolen goods? We’ve got a serious crime to investigate.”
Plant looked on, and again let out a long, quiet sigh.
CHAPTER SIX
THE PIZZA THICKENS
With no sign of their pepperoni, Dino and Possum were turning to go when out of nowhere . . . a figure appeared.
She simply popped into existence—one moment she wasn’t there, and the next, she was. Luckily for her, the mice were too busy stuffing their snouts with pizza to notice.
“Mrs. Sniffleton?” whispered a confused Dino. “What’s she doing here?” Mrs. Sniffleton was a friendly lunch lady at school.
Dino and Possum watched as she quickly ducked under the table, then carefully rummaged through boxes. Spotting the papers on the table, she grabbed a pile and stuffed them into her bag.
“What’s she doing with those?” wondered Possum.
Watching the mice closely, Mrs. Sniffleton reached out and grabbed a slice of pizza. Slice in hand, she then promptly vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind.
Well, almost no trace. As she disappeared, something fell to the ground.
Dino sprang into action. “What are you doing?” hissed Possum. “Wait!”
But Dino had already clambered down the boxes and disappeared around the corner.
Possum watched in horror as Dino opened the side door and slipped inside the garage. She made her way slowly along the back wall, inching silently toward the mysterious object. She reached down and picked it up.
Through the window, Possum pointed frantically back toward the door, and put a finger to his lips. Dino needed to be totally silent to get out without anyone noticing. Dino looked up, nodded at Possum . . .
. . . and ran for it.
Tables toppled as Dino went smashing through the garage, boxes scattering this way and that. Possum watched, horrified, as startled mice stopped munching and looked over at the racket. A few began scurrying in Dino’s direction, just as she made her exit.
The mice were fast, but they were no match for an escaping T. rex. Dino zoomed around the street corner, leaving a trail of mice in her wake.
Possum, safe from all the confusion, quietly climbed down the boxes and headed in the other direction. They needed a serious agency discussion.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS
“What were you thinking?!” asked Possum when they finally met up. “You were supposed to sneak out, not smash through walls like Godzilla!”
“I thought you were telling me to be quick!” cried Dino. “Besides. That thing she dropped! It could be a clue! You saw Mrs. Sniffleton take their pizza; maybe she took our pepperoni.”
“Just because she took a slice of their pizza doesn’t mean that she ate our pepperoni.”
“Look at your notes, Possum. She fits all the clues! You saw her appear and disappear—she could have gotten in and out of our house without leaving a trace. She’s the right size. She obviously loves pizza. She’s a prime suspect!”
Possum had to admit that it did look rather strange. “What did she drop?”
Dino’s mind whirred as she looked down at the clue. What was Mrs. Sniffleton doing in the garage? Why did she take those papers? Why did she have this flower?
The flower . . . The more Dino thought about it, the more familiar it looked. “Possum. This flower is from that tree in the park.”
“There are a lot of trees in the park, Dino.”
“I mean that tree. The one planted last year to celebrate Mr. Jones winning World’s Best Mustache. We need to go there, right now.”
The park was just a few blocks away from their house. Mr. Jones’s tree really was an impressive sight. It was unusual because of its l
arge size and odd shape, but that wasn’t the only thing that made it unique. Every branch was covered in bright purple flowers that bloomed all summer. The same purple, in fact, as Mrs. Sniffleton’s flower.
“I thought I recognized it!” said Dino. “The flower is from this tree. It’s the only one like it in town.”
They searched the area. No clues on the ground, which left only one place to look.
“Time to start climbing, Dino.”
High in the canopy, they found a small tree house.
Keeping quiet, they peeked in through a window and spotted a figure speaking into a phone, deep in conversation. Mrs. Sniffleton.
“You were right, sir. My years in deep cover have all been worth it. I’ve got their plans.”
They heard a muffled voice on the other end of the line.
“It’s worse than we thought, though. I can’t believe I missed it. It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking through the investigation this whole time. It’s tonight. Their rocket is ready, and they’ve got their disguises.”
“Ugh. She’s talking about the mice,” said Dino.
“There is one more thing,” continued Mrs. Sniffleton. “As I was leaving, it was mayhem. Someone was crashing through that joint like a tornado in a greenhouse.”
Possum glared at Dino.
“Not sure. But whoever it was, my cover was nearly blown. Must have been a real professional.”
Dino smiled smugly back at Possum.
The Case of the Nibbled Pizza Page 1