by Stuart Gibbs
Hoenekker started toward Athmani angrily. “I care plenty about this rhino. . . .”
Dad quickly stepped between them. “We’re leaving,” he said, then took Athmani by the arm and led him toward the door.
“Wise move,” Hoenekker told them. He snapped his radio out of his holster and spoke into it. “This is Chief Hoenekker. All available security personnel report to Rhonda Rhino’s quarters in the Asian Plains at once. We have what appears to be an assassination attempt.”
Dad walked Athmani out of the building, then turned back to Hoenekker and said, “If I were you, I’d have your men seal off the park exits first.”
Hoenekker gave him an annoyed glance. “And why’s that?”
“The window the bullet came through faces FunJungle, not the exterior fence,” Dad explained. “Whoever fired that shot did it from inside the park.”
Hoenekker’s annoyance was quickly replaced by surprise. He stared at the broken window, realizing Dad was right. “Oh, crud,” he said.
“You mean an employee of FunJungle did this?” I asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Dad replied.
THE ROYAL TABLE
I wanted to stick around FunJungle to see if I could help with the investigation, but I had to go to school.
Not that I’d have been allowed to help anyhow. Chief Hoenekker didn’t seem to want anyone who wasn’t an official member of his security forces involved in the investigation, and my parents wanted me to keep my distance too. “The last two times you’ve investigated crimes at FunJungle, you’ve ended up in serious danger,” Mom explained.
“But I survived,” I argued. “And I solved the crimes.”
“Chief Hoenekker’s a professional,” Mom replied. “Let someone else face the danger for once.”
And so, at eight a.m., my parents loaded me onto the bus and I set off for Lyndon B. Johnson Middle School.
That didn’t mean I left the troubles at FunJungle behind, though. The first thing Xavier Gonzalez, my best friend, said when he got on the bus was, “Why’d those elephants stampede this morning?” Xavier was a budding biologist and a FunJungle fanatic; he knew almost as much about animals as I did.
“You heard about that?” I asked, surprised. “How?”
“It’s all over the news.” Xavier slid into the seat next to me. “Pete Thwacker was being interviewed.”
This was surprising to me. Pete was the head of public relations at FunJungle. He went on television a lot, but usually to deny that bad things had happened.
“I thought Pete would try to cover that story up,” I said.
“It’s an elephant stampede!” Xavier exclaimed. “They trampled the Gorilla Grill! You can’t cover that up!”
“That doesn’t mean Pete wouldn’t try,” I countered.
“Well, he wasn’t telling the whole story,” Xavier said. “Or at least, I don’t think he was. He said the elephants stampeded because they were frightened by a mouse, but that’s something that only happens in cartoons, right?”
I groaned. “Right.” Even though Pete was being strangely open about the stampede, it seemed he was still trying to keep the fact that someone had shot at Rhonda a secret. Thus the mouse story. Pete probably thought it was true that elephants were afraid of mice; despite working at the world’s biggest zoo, he didn’t know squat about animals. In previous interviews, he’d mistakenly claimed that dolphins were fish (they’re mammals), that chimpanzees were monkeys (they’re apes), and that woolly bears were bears (they’re caterpillars). His real talent was looking good on television.
“So what did scare the elephants?” Xavier asked.
“I don’t know,” I lied. If Pete was keeping the gunshot a secret, then I figured I’d better keep quiet about it myself.
“You’re lying,” Xavier said accusingly. “Knowing you, you were probably there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because you walk with the elephants every morning. And besides, whenever anything crazy happens at FunJungle, you’re always there.”
“That’s not true.”
Xavier ticked things off on his fingers. “You were there when Henry died, when the mamba got out, when the tiger escaped, when the shark tank collapsed . . .”
“Okay,” I admitted. “I’ve been there for a lot of crazy stuff. But I wasn’t there this time.”
Xavier pouted, turning away from me. “I thought you were my friend.”
“You know I am.”
“Friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”
I sighed. The truth was, I wanted to tell Xavier the truth. I wanted to discuss what was going on with Rhonda with someone. But it would have been nearly impossible to do that on the bus without someone else overhearing, and once word got out that somebody had tried to shoot Rhonda, it would spread like crazy through the school. Then the parents would find out and share the news, and pretty soon the entire country would know about it and I’d end up in trouble for not keeping my mouth shut. So I tried to change the subject and talk about our math homework. Xavier wouldn’t take the bait, though. He spent the rest of the ride to school pretending to read a book, making a point of ignoring me.
It turned out, I could have saved myself all the trouble. Because Summer McCracken accosted me the first chance she got. Summer already knew about Rhonda because her father had been informed and Summer had been there when he got the news. She’d already texted me a dozen times that morning, wanting to know more, and I’d shared the little information I had, but that wasn’t enough. Since Summer was a grade ahead of me, we didn’t see each other until lunchtime. The moment I walked into the cafeteria, she ambushed me. “So, who do you think tried to shoot Rhonda?”
I cased the room to see if anyone was watching us. Of course, almost everyone was. Summer was famous, even though all she’d ever done was be born rich, and the whole school was always riveted to her every move. Including the teachers. It didn’t help that Summer always wore pink from head to toe and had brilliantly blond hair, so she stuck out in any crowd like a flamingo surrounded by penguins. Plus, she had bodyguards. Today, her newest one, a hulking mass of muscle named Hondo, was tailing her. Luckily, it didn’t seem that anyone had been close enough to overhear her.
I headed for our usual table, keeping my voice as low as I could. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m pretty sure your dad wants it to be a secret.”
“That doesn’t mean it should be one. If one of our animals is in danger, the public ought to know.”
“Know about what?” Xavier asked, dropping in beside us.
“Nothing,” I told him.
“Someone tried to shoot Rhonda this morning,” Summer said.
Xavier’s jaw dropped open so wide, he looked like an angler fish. “Is she okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “The shooter missed.”
Xavier scowled suddenly, remembering he was supposed to be angry at me. “I knew you were lying about something this morning! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s supposed to be a secret,” I said, more to Summer than Xavier, as we arrived at our table.
Violet Grace was already seated there, along with my friends Dash Alexander and Ethan Sokol and half a dozen other kids. “What’s supposed to be a secret?” Violet asked.
“Someone tried to kill Rhonda Rhino,” Xavier replied.
“Oh my God!” Violet gasped, horrified. “Is she one of the sixth graders?”
Not everyone at school knew the names of the animals at FunJungle as well as Summer, Xavier, and I did.
“No,” Xavier explained. “She’s a real rhino. At FunJungle.”
Our friends were relieved to hear that someone wasn’t trying to kill our fellow students and extremely concerned about the rhino.
Those days I always sat at the center table in the cafeteria, along with the athletes, like Dash and Ethan; the cheerleaders, like Violet; and a couple of kids who weren’t either
, like Summer and Xavier. The group was known to most of the other students as the Royals, because they seemed cooler than everyone else, but now that I’d become friends with them, I had trouble thinking of them that way. For the most part, they seemed like all the other kids in middle school, with the same concerns and worries.
The only person who was really different was Summer. Although she’d decided to transfer from boarding school so she could have a “normal education,” she hadn’t completely embraced everything at public school. Lunch, for example. In her defense, the cafeteria food was disgusting, but while I avoided eating it by bringing a lunch from home, Summer had her staff deliver a hot meal to her every day. Summer didn’t want to appear too privileged, so she had her staff put the lunch in a plain brown bag, but she wasn’t fooling anyone.
“What happened with the rhino?” Dash asked Summer as she and I sat down. Hondo hovered a respectful distance away.
Summer shrugged. “Ask Teddy. He’s the one who was at the crime scene.”
Everyone’s gaze shifted to me.
“I knew it!” Xavier cried. “Every time something crazy happens, you’re there!”
“We’re not supposed to talk about this,” I said.
I was pelted with wadded-up napkins in response. “C’mon!” Ethan taunted. “Don’t be a dork!”
Several people echoed this. I shot a disgruntled look at Summer, but she avoided my gaze and dug into her meal. It was some kind of steak with fancy gravy, steamed potatoes, and sautéed green beans. She had a homemade napoleon for dessert. My tuna sandwich and carrot sticks looked pathetic in comparison.
I gave in to peer pressure. I didn’t want to be a dork, and if I didn’t say anything, Summer probably would have told everyone anyhow. “I’ll tell you, but you all have to keep quiet about this, okay? It doesn’t go any further than this table.”
Everyone nodded eagerly and swore they wouldn’t spread the word, crossing their hearts and zipping their lips.
“I really don’t know that much,” I reported. “Someone shot at Rhonda while she was inside her house in SafariLand this morning. She wasn’t hurt, though. The bullet missed her and hit the wall.” I purposely left out the parts about Rhonda being pregnant and the shot having been fired from inside the park. Thankfully, Summer either didn’t know this information herself—or she realized it shouldn’t be shared and didn’t correct me.
“Did this happen while the elephants were stampeding?” Dash asked.
“It’s what caused the stampede,” I explained. “The elephants heard the gun and freaked out.”
“They went right through the Gorilla Grill,” Summer reported. “The whole place is trashed.”
“Aw, man.” Ethan groaned. “That’s the best place to eat at FunJungle.”
Violet shook her head sadly. “Why would someone try to kill the rhino?”
“Probably for the same reason people kill them in the wild,” Xavier said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “For their horns. A lot of people think powdered rhino horn cures cancer—even though it’s only made of keratin, which is basically the same stuff as our fingernails. They’re willing to pay tons of money for it. Rhino horns are actually worth more per ounce than gold.”
Several people gasped in surprise at this—although Violet didn’t. “I know all about the poaching,” she said. “My parents donate to the International Rhino Foundation. But the rhinos in the zoo are surrounded by walls and fences and stuff. Even if you can shoot one, that doesn’t mean you can get its horn afterward, right?” She looked to me for confirmation.
“Right,” I agreed. “Rhonda was locked inside her house when the shot was fired. There’s a keypad entry to get inside the building—and that’s inside SafariLand, which has a different keypad at the gates. So stealing the horn from there would have been almost impossible.”
“Then why would someone shoot Rhonda?” Violet repeated.
There was a moment of silence while everyone mulled that over. Then Ethan said, “Sometimes people like shooting things just to shoot them.”
Summer laid down her silverware, looking disgusted. “You mean they do it to be cruel?”
“That’s probably not the way they think of it,” Ethan explained. “It’s more like, sometimes around here, guys go out with guns looking for stuff to shoot. Rabbits and birds and such. Not to eat or anything. It’s only for fun.”
“It doesn’t sound fun,” Summer replied. “It sounds horrible.”
Several of the cheerleaders chimed in agreement.
“Hey, I’ve never done it,” Ethan said quickly. “When I hunt, it’s only for ducks or deer, and we eat what we shoot. I’m only saying there are other people who aren’t like that. And maybe, if someone thought it was cool to shoot a rabbit for fun, they’d think it was really cool to shoot a rhino.”
Everyone nodded sadly. As distasteful as the idea was, I had to admit it made more sense than someone trying to poach Rhonda for her horn when the horn would be impossible to recover. “Do you know any of these people who like to shoot things for fun?” I asked.
Ethan sighed. “Lots of people do it. Half the people in town hunt, and I’ll bet plenty of them have shot something just to do it at least once.”
“Even kids do it sometimes,” Dash added. “They get a new BB gun for Christmas, and the first thing they do is go out in the woods looking for snakes or blue jays.”
“That’s disgusting,” Summer said. “Why would anyone ever want to kill anything?”
“You’re eating a steak!” Ethan exclaimed. “Where do you think that came from? You think the cow committed suicide?”
Summer’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “That’s different.”
“Not really,” Ethan shot back.
“Vance Jessup used to shoot things for fun,” Xavier said quickly, before the argument got out of hand. “All the time. He was always carrying a rifle around in the woods.”
“Maybe,” Violet said. “But Vance is locked up in juvenile hall right now for stealing the koala, thanks to Teddy. So I don’t think he’s the one who shot at Rhonda.”
“I know,” Xavier replied. “But Vance almost never did anything without TimJim, and they’re still free.”
TimJim was actually two people—the Barksdale twins—but they were almost always together and no one could tell them apart, so everyone just called them TimJim. Even their parents. Back when Vance Jessup had been bullying anyone he could, TimJim had been his accomplices. Now that Vance was gone, they didn’t bully nearly as much, but they weren’t exactly angels, either.
I glanced over my shoulder at them. They were sitting in a corner of the cafeteria, taking the baloney from their sandwiches and throwing it at the ceiling, then laughing when it stuck.
“Those guys are so dumb, they need to team up to count to twenty,” Summer said dismissively. “You think they’re smart enough to go after a rhino?”
“You don’t need to be smart to shoot at a rhino,” Xavier replied. “All you need is a gun.”
Dash nodded. “Even TimJim could manage it. There’s a ton of places along the back of FunJungle where someone could shoot into the park.”
“How do you know that?” Summer asked suspiciously.
“Because I’m evil,” Dash replied sarcastically, then said, “You can see the back fence from inside the park when you’re on the SafariLand monorail. It’s only chain link the whole way around. There’s barbed wire at the top, but that doesn’t mean you can’t shoot through it.”
“He’s right,” I agreed. “I once even found a place where I could get over the fence by climbing a tree.”
“Really?” Xavier polished off the last of his sandwich. “It’s that unprotected?”
“I think they cut the tree down,” I replied. “But yeah, it’s pretty unprotected.”
Xavier said, “Given how much people like to hunt around here, I’m surprised no scuzzball’s taken a shot at an animal before this.”
“Yeah,” Violet agreed,
looking at Summer somewhat accusingly.
Summer glared back at her. “My father does everything he can to keep those animals safe.”
“Where’s the rhino house?” Dash asked. “Near the fence?”
“No,” I told him. “In fact, it’s pretty far away. Maybe a couple hundred yards.”
“Plenty of rifles could shoot that far,” Ethan said. “But you’d have to be a pretty good shot to make it pay off.”
“The hunter didn’t,” Xavier pointed out. “He missed.”
“Anyone find the bullet yet?” Dash asked.
“Maybe by now,” I replied.
“Well, if they have, then they should know what type of gun was used,” Dash said. “That’d be good to know.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. Even though Dash and Ethan mistakenly believed that the shooter had fired from outside the zoo, they still had some good points. If I had figured out how to jump the fence into SafariLand, someone else could, too, which meant that whoever had fired the shot from inside FunJungle wasn’t necessarily an employee. And if they’d had a good enough gun, they wouldn’t have had to shoot from anywhere near the rhino house.
“Maybe whoever did it wasn’t even shooting at the rhino,” Violet suggested.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“My little brother has a BB gun, but he’s never used it to shoot animals. He shoots things like bottles and cans. And once he thought it’d be funny to shoot the windows out of this house they were building down the street from us. My parents were royally angry and they took the gun away for three months, but that’s what kids do sometimes, right? You said whoever did this shot through the window. Maybe they just wanted to shoot a window.”
Everyone nodded thoughtfully.
“Good point,” Dash said, then turned to me. “Would whoever did this have been able to tell there was a rhino in that building?”
I considered the rhino house. “Maybe not. The windows are pretty high up. It would’ve been hard to see Rhonda in there.”
Ethan slapped his knee happily. “Well, there you go. There’s a good chance this wasn’t some psycho rhino killer after all. It was only a stupid vandal.”