Water-Ski Wipeout

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Water-Ski Wipeout Page 2

by Franklin W. Dixon


  Joe added (Maybe) after Adam’s name. He had a feeling Frank was right. But still, he couldn’t forget Adam’s face as the bully pushed past him and off the bus. He’d seemed so mad. Was he mad enough to take the water skis? Would he really do that?

  Frank went into the shed, waving for Chet and Joe to follow. “Let’s stick to the facts for now. Why don’t you remind us exactly when you put them in the shed?”

  Joe walked over to the place where the life vests were. “I leaned them against these shelves right here. I came in right after we arrived.”

  “They were taken sometime between six o’clock last night and ten o’clock this morning,” Chet added. He pointed to the word When? on Joe’s paper. Joe wrote down the times.

  Joe wrote down notes as he talked. Next to Where? he wrote: Storage shed behind the lodge. Beneath that, he wrote: They were leaning against the shelves, on the right side of the shed.

  Frank paced back and forth. “Now let’s think of why,” he said.

  “They were expensive,” Joe said. “Maybe someone wanted to sell them.”

  “Or it could be because Adam was mad,” Chet added. “Just like you said.”

  Frank scratched his head. “Maybe someone is playing a joke on you. But that doesn’t seem likely.”

  Joe wrote down all the reasons why someone might’ve wanted to take the skis. His dad liked to call this a “motive.” A motive was a reason why someone would commit a crime.

  “ ‘What,’ ” Joe said. “That’s easy. My water skis.” He wrote down a short description of the skis, including that they were tied with a blue strap. When he was done, he looked down the list. They didn’t have much information about this case. If Adam Ackerman hadn’t taken the skis, who had?

  Chet knelt down by the shed door. He was looking at a yellow towel crumpled on the floor. “Could this be a clue?” he asked.

  Frank picked up the towel, noticing it had the letters SLSG written across the top in big black print. “Maybe,” he said. “It’s hard to tell how long it’s been here. I have no idea what ‘SLSG’ means.”

  Joe flipped to a clean page in his notebook and wrote down Yellow towel—SLSG. “We should probably write down everything in here, just in case,” he said. He counted an oar, a life tube, three extra life vests, and the foam noodles. Then he wrote everything down in a list.

  When he was done, Frank and Chet came to his side, reading over the notes with him. Chet crossed his arms over his chest. “Where should we start?” he asked.

  Frank turned and looked out the shed door toward the lodge. The closest cabin to the shed was only a few yards away. The sign in front read PINECONE CABIN. He recognized it instantly.

  He stared out over the lake toward Bucks Mountain. Mrs. Rodriguez had left less than half an hour ago. He’d seen Adam and Paul go with her. Maybe it was unlikely that Adam had taken the skis, but that was the same cabin he’d seen Paul and Adam go into last night. Besides, it was their only real lead.

  Frank pointed at the path that led into the woods. “Let’s go that way,” he said. “If we’re fast, we can probably catch Mrs. Rodriguez’s group before they get to the other side of the lake.”

  Chet followed behind as Joe and Frank took off down the trail. “I’m confused. . . . Why do we want to catch them?” he called out.

  “Adam’s in that group,” Frank said.

  “I thought you didn’t think it was him,” Chet said.

  Frank ran faster, waving for Chet to hurry up. “It probably wasn’t. But if he’s the only one on our suspect list, we might as well be sure. Once we know he didn’t steal them—”

  “Then we can find out who did,” Joe finished. He smiled as he ran past his brother, moving deeper into the woods.

  Chapter 5

  THEY’RE HIDING SOMETHING

  They’d been running for a while when they spotted the group up ahead. The kids, led by Mrs. Rodriguez, turned and took the trail down toward the beach. Frank and Joe could see Adam and Paul in the back, walking along behind the others. The two boys were each carrying a stick, which they used to swat away the tree branches.

  “Hey!” Frank called out. “Wait for us!”

  The whole group turned around, studying the boys. Mrs. Rodriguez smiled. “Where did you boys come from? I thought you were going out on the boat today,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

  When Frank, Joe, and Chet finally caught up, they were out of breath. “We’re fine. Mr. Morton said we could hang around the lodge as long as Mrs. Pinkelton knew where we were. We aren’t going on the hike,” Joe said. “We were just hoping to talk to Adam for a second.”

  Mrs. Rodriguez nodded. “I guess that’s fine. Be careful, though—you missed my warning. There are rattlesnakes in these woods. There are also brown bears. I don’t think we’ll run into one, but make sure you make a lot of noise. The last thing we want is to sneak up on one.”

  The group started back down the trail. Frank noticed that a few kids in the front had sticks too. They banged them together as they walked, making noise.

  “What do you want?” Adam asked. He didn’t look at them as he talked.

  “We just wanted to ask you a few questions,” Chet said.

  Adam and Paul laughed. “Is this for another one of your little mysteries?”

  Joe took a deep breath to calm himself down. He didn’t like how Adam said those words. He was always making fun of the Hardys, even when he didn’t mean to. “We know you took my skis,” Joe said. “Where did you put them?”

  Adam scrunched his nose. “Your skis? What are you talking about?”

  Frank glanced sideways at his brother. Joe was letting Adam get to him. Just because Adam and Paul were staying in the cabin near the shed, that didn’t mean Adam definitely had taken the skis. It didn’t mean anything that he had been rude to Joe, either.

  Frank tried a different strategy. “We noticed your cabin was near the storage shed. Did you see anything strange last night?”

  Paul laughed. “What are you guys even talking about?”

  “Joe’s water skis are missing,” Chet explained. “And yesterday, on the bus, you got really mad at him. You told him you’d get back at him for hitting you with his skis.”

  Adam rubbed his head like he didn’t remember. “Oh . . . that.”

  Joe was so mad, his cheeks were red. “Did you take them? Don’t lie to us.”

  Adam shook his head. “I didn’t, I swear.”

  Paul stopped walking. He turned, looking at Frank and Joe for the first time. “We definitely didn’t take them. When Adam said that, we were going to play a prank on you or something. Pull your chair out when you tried to sit down. Something like that.”

  Frank stepped toward his brother. He was starting to feel really annoyed. Why did Adam always have to be so mean?

  “Well, if you didn’t take them,” Chet said, “who did?”

  “Look, we didn’t see anything weird,” Adam said. “I don’t know anything about this.”

  Paul stood still. He looked at Frank and Joe like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Then Adam nudged him. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, pulling Paul along behind him.

  Adam and Paul turned, following the rest of the group up the path.

  “That was weird,” Chet said. “Didn’t it seem like Paul wanted to tell us something?”

  “Definitely,” Joe said. “He knows something.”

  Frank sighed. “It’s like he was afraid to say it in front of Adam.”

  The boys walked back toward the shed. Joe looked down at his notebook, going through all the clues they had. It was possible the person who took the skis had something to do with the yellow towel, but they couldn’t be sure. Now the best thing to do would be to go back to the shed and see if there was anything they’d missed.

  They hadn’t gotten very far when they heard footsteps behind them. They turned and saw Paul running toward them. He looked nervous.

  “Hey, guys,” he said. “I don
’t have much time, but I wanted to tell you I did see something. Last night I got out of bed and saw a boy walking down toward the lake with your skis. I just thought it was you.”

  “What did he look like?” Joe asked.

  “He had on a black hooded sweatshirt,” Paul said. “He had your skis—I saw them.”

  “Are you sure?” Frank asked.

  “Positive,” Paul said.

  Frank looked at Joe and smiled. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to start with Adam. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock and they already had a break in the case. Paul Alcotti was now their very first witness.

  Chapter 6

  THE SUSPECT

  Joe flipped his notebook to a clean page. He wrote the word Who? again, and Possible suspect beside it. “Tell us everything you remember,” Joe said.

  Paul rubbed his hands together like he was nervous. He glanced over his shoulder. The group was behind him, moving along a trail by the beach. “Umm . . .”

  Frank saw how worried Paul seemed. Adam was at the back of the group. He hadn’t noticed Paul was gone yet.

  “If you don’t want anyone to know you told us, that’s okay,” Frank said. “We can keep it a secret.”

  Paul nodded. “Yeah, I just . . . I don’t want Adam know I’m helping you guys. He’d be mad, you know?”

  “It’s okay,” Frank said. Their dad had taught them that sometimes witnesses didn’t like anyone to know they’d helped with a case. Maybe it was because they knew the suspect, or maybe they were scared the suspect might get mad at them. Mr. Hardy told Frank and Joe it was okay to keep what they said a secret.

  “So we were hanging out in our cabin. And I got out of bed and went to the bathroom,” Paul began. “I was looking out the window and I saw this kid. He was walking out of the shed with the skis. I didn’t think it was weird at first, but then when you said someone had stolen them . . .”

  Chet put his hands on his hips. “That’s crazy!” he said. “Who was this guy? What did he look like?”

  Paul rubbed his head. “Like I said, he had a black hooded sweatshirt on. He was wearing jeans. I think he had light hair . . . like blond. And he looked short.”

  Joe wrote down everything Paul said. “Do you remember what time it was?”

  Paul bit his lip. “Maybe nine thirty. It was just after lights-out—that I remember.”

  “Where was he heading?” Frank asked. “Did you see where he went?”

  “He was going toward the dock . . . ,” Paul said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then someone called out from the forest behind him.

  “Paul! Where’d you go? Are you there?”

  Paul’s eyes went wide when he heard Adam’s voice. “I gotta go!” he said, turning to run back. “I’ll see you guys later!”

  The boys watched as Paul ran back toward the group. “I’m coming!” he called out to Adam. “I just got lost!”

  Within a few seconds he was gone. Frank turned to Joe. “We officially have a suspect,” he said. “We’re getting closer, I can feel it. Hopefully, we’ll find your skis and be out on the lake this afternoon.”

  Joe smiled. “I hope,” he said. “Let’s go back to the shed and see if we missed anything. We have to find that boy.”

  Ten minutes later Frank, Chet, and Joe were back at the shed. They walked around it, looking for any clues they might have missed.

  “Nine thirty,” Chet mumbled. “The thief was out late. He must’ve waited until everyone was in their bunks for the night.”

  Joe stopped by a corner of the shed. He barely heard what Chet had just said. He was too busy studying some tracks that led down to the beach. “Look at these,” he said. “We must’ve missed them before.”

  Frank came around the side of the shed. There was one long line that started a few yards away. “The edge of the skis must’ve dug into the dirt,” he said, following it.

  They walked beside the tracks, noticing that they went toward the dock. Halfway to the dock the lines changed. There were two lines, not one. They were about a foot away from each other.

  “He started by carrying them,” Frank said. “That’s why there were no lines. Then he dragged them together. Then he took them apart and dragged one in each hand.”

  Chet knelt down. He picked something blue out of a pile of dead leaves. “Is this something?” he asked.

  Joe perked up when he saw the blue strap. “That’s what held the skis together!” he said. “We’re definitely close.”

  Chet passed the blue strap to Joe, who put it in his pocket. They followed the tracks all the way down to the beach, where they ended right at the dock. There were a few girls swimming in the water. Another group was sitting in a speedboat, reading. One of the girls, in a pink sundress, was weaving a friendship bracelet with colorful string. Behind them, an older woman in a giant white hat thumbed through a magazine.

  Frank stopped before the girls noticed them. “This might be it,” he said. “Maybe the thief used this boat to water-ski. That would make sense, right?”

  Before Joe could answer, the girl in the pink sundress turned around. She was a little older than the boys, maybe ten. “What’s up?” she said. She put down the bracelet she was making.

  Frank stepped forward. “We were wondering if you’ve seen a boy in a black hooded sweatshirt and jeans. He was definitely wearing those last night, and maybe even today, too. He has light hair and is pretty short.”

  The girl just shrugged. One of her friends was lying out on a yellow towel. Another one was drinking a soda.

  “I didn’t see anyone like that,” the girl in the sundress said. “But we just got here last night.”

  “What time?” Frank asked.

  “Like eight o’clock,” another girl said. “This is our first day here, and it’s been quiet all morning.”

  “Is this the only boat at this dock?” Chet asked.

  “There’s been a few boats going in and out,” the girl said.

  Joe wrote down what she said in his notebook. He was glad Chet had asked her that question. Just because the thief took the skis down to this dock didn’t mean he got on this boat. He could have used any of the boats that left from here.

  “But you didn’t see a boy by that description? He might have had water skis with him,” Frank said.

  Another girl turned around. She was wearing a yellow sweatshirt with the words SAINT LILAC SCHOOL FOR GIRLS across the front. “There were some boys,” she said. “But no one who looked like that. It was dark by the time we got here last night, though.”

  “Did you see anything strange?” Chet asked.

  The girls shook their heads.

  Joe let out a deep breath. He knew the boy had probably changed out of whatever he was wearing last night. They’d have better luck if they questioned people at the lodge. But who would remember seeing a boy in a black sweatshirt? Half the third- and fourth-grade boys from Bayport Elementary were wearing dark sweatshirts last night.

  “Thanks,” Joe said. “Let us know if you remember anything. We’re staying back there.” He pointed to the lodge.

  The boys turned and walked back to the lodge, more confused than ever.

  “The lines lead right to the dock,” Chet pointed out. “He must’ve brought the skis there.”

  “But he could be anyone,” Frank said. “We don’t have a good enough description of him. Paul saw him from so far away.”

  Joe scanned the woods. “We have to have missed something,” he said.

  Frank looked around. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But what?”

  Chapter 7

  MISTAKEN IDENTITY

  Frank knew something wasn’t right. Sometimes he got a nagging feeling that they’d asked the wrong questions, or that they were looking in the wrong places. There was something about this case that they had missed.

  The boys walked through the woods in silence. Frank glanced up the hill, noticing the cabin Adam and Paul had stayed in. It said PINECONE CABIN above the door. Paul
hadn’t given them a great description. But where had he been standing? Had he seen everything clearly?

  “I just want to check something,” Frank said, walking toward it.

  When he got there, the front door was open. He crept inside, Chet and Joe following close behind him. There were four bedrooms spread out off the main living area.

  “Paul said he was staying in that room in the corner,” Joe whispered. He had his notebook out and was looking at his notes.

  “Which means he probably used the bathroom that’s right near it,” Chet said.

  The three boys climbed the stairs. The cabin was much dirtier than the main lodge. There were some cobwebs near the ceilings, and mud tracked across the floor. When they got upstairs, they went into the tiny bathroom. There was only one window, and it was covered with dirt.

  “He saw the boy from here? At night?” Chet asked. “It’s the middle of the day and I can barely see out of this window!”

  Frank leaned forward, putting his nose close to the glass. “Exactly,” he said.

  “Whatever he saw,” Joe added, “it can’t be trusted.”

  Frank stood up straight. “He probably did see someone in a black hooded sweatshirt,” he said. “He’d be able to tell his height.”

  Joe’s eyes widened. He cupped his hand over his mouth, like he’d just remembered something. “I know what we missed!” he said. “It all makes sense now.”

  “What?” Chet asked.

  “SLSG!” Joe said. “The yellow towel!”

  Frank and Chet almost laughed. “Huh?” Frank said. “What about it?”

  Joe was so excited, he started talking twice as fast as normal. “When we went down to the dock and saw those girls. One of them was sitting on a yellow towel. And the other girl was wearing a sweatshirt that said Saint Lilac School for Girls.”

  “Wait . . . SLSG,” Frank repeated. He couldn’t help but smile. Joe had figured it out. They’d missed one important clue. “The towel from the shed belonged to a girl.”

 

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