“Rarara, Grruff,” he playfully yelped. He pounced on her chest, knocking her to the ground. He dug at her tightly crossed arms until Sally snapped.
“Bones, I said cut it out!” she yelled. “I need to think, to figure this out, and you’re making it worse. So leave me alone, OK? Just leave me alone.”
Bones froze and stared, puzzled, at his angry friend. Reluctantly he climbed off her and settled down a few feet away.
Sally lay on her back, letting tears fall from the sides of her eyes into her ears. After a good cry, she crawled over to her pet and gave him a hug.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she whispered. Bones tilted his face up to hers and licked the salty spots where the tears had fallen. After a few minutes, he began to poke at her arm again.
“Geez Louise, Bones, what are you after?” Sally asked, and then she felt it. When they fled the schoolyard, she had been holding the paper bag with Bones’s bones in it. At some point she must have stuffed the sack in her shirtsleeve and promptly forgotten about it. Now, as she produced the crumpled bag in the dank shelter of the drainpipe, Bones whined in anticipation.
“GGGgggrrr-uff!” he barked when Sally revealed the plush toy bone. Taking one end in his mouth and holding the other between his paws, he engaged in a game of tug-of-war with himself. Sally removed the other bone, the real one, from the bag and held it up to her face.
“Too bad we didn’t have time to give this to one of the bone snatcher’s victims,” she said. Bones put down his toy and growled angrily at the cause of their troubles. In one swift motion, he knocked the bone from Sally’s hand into the mud.
“Hey! What’d you do that for?” she asked.
Bones did not reply.
“Seriously, Bones, that was a total waste. We could have at least given it to a dog we met on our way to Watta City. Anything to help out our karma—or to stop an angry dog from attacking you—would be good.”
Sally slumped her shoulders and rested her chin on her fist. “Whatever,” she groaned. “None of it matters anymore, anyway.”
Bones let out a heavy sigh. He climbed out of the drainpipe and waded into the mud, grumbling a little before focusing his attention on one puddle in particular. Sniffing around its surface, he inhaled all the smells of the marsh until he was able to isolate the one he wanted. He followed his snout in a zigzag formation until, suddenly, he froze, one paw raised and his tail sticking straight up. He shot Sally a sideways glance before plunging directly into the muck.
When he emerged, Bones held in his mouth the real-deal marrowbone. He tiptoed back over to Sally and flung it at her feet in a mixture of triumph and disgust.
“Aw, Bones.” Sally smiled guiltily. “You didn’t have to do that.” Hugging her muddy mutt, she added, “And I’m sorry I’m so cranky. It’s just that I can’t believe all this is happening. I mean, if only we knew who the bad guy was, we could expose him and clear our names. There are definitely suspects.”
Bones cuddled onto Sally’s lap as she laid out the possibilities. “Obviously, the D.C.’s on the list. He’d be the first to set you up.”
“Ggruff,” Bones agreed.
“Or maybe it was one of those PAD people. If they’ve got a problem with dead things, I can see why they’d go after you.”
Bones whimpered, his feelings hurt.
“Not that they should,” Sally clarified. “But they’re totally the type to protest first and get to know you later.
“And then there’s Tommy Gunn. His mom’s a member of PAD, and he started acting really weird the first time he saw you—suddenly trying to talk to us, asking us to hang out.”
Bones stared at Sally blankly.
“All right, fine. I suppose he did actually help us out today. Maybe Tommy isn’t the worst person in the world.”
“GGGggrrruff! GGGgggrrruff!!” Bones jumped off Sally’s lap and yapped excitedly. Tommy Gunn seemed to have a fan.
“Of course, there’s always Viola.”
Bones let out a low growl.
“But why now? She’s had it in for us for so long, what was she waiting for? I just don’t see it.” Sally lay back and stared at the ceiling of the drainpipe. “Seriously, though, what’s the point? Why even bother trying to figure out who the real bone snatcher is? It’s not like we’re ever going home.”
Sally covered her face with her hands. “We’d probably have better luck winning the lottery. Our chances of finding the real bad guy are one in a million. Less than zero. It’d be like searching for a needle in a haystack.”
Sally gasped as she shot up to a seated position. She grabbed Bones by the leg. “Or maybe it’d be like fishing a bone out of a puddle of mud!”
Bones cocked his head to one side and flicked his ears back.
“Here, smell this,” Sally said, as she thrust the marrowbone into her dog’s face.
“Grwof!” he reprimanded and shuffled backward. He scurried to the far end of the drainpipe.
“Bones. I’m serious. Take a good whiff. It’s what the real crook is stealing—fresh marrowbones—so the stolen ones must smell something like this. If you can follow the scent to the missing bones, maybe we can catch the real thief!” Sally eagerly held out the bone. Her dog did not move.
“Please, boy,” she begged. “This is our only chance to clear our names, and if we do…” Sally blinked away tears. “Then maybe we can go home.”
Reluctantly, Bones inched forward. He sniffed the marrowbone thoroughly, though Sally could tell he wanted nothing more than to turn away in disgust. When he was through, he looked at her and barked.
Exiting the drainpipe, Bones put his nose to the ground. Sally followed close behind as her dog, hot on the trail, directed them back toward Merryland and, she hoped, the villain who had set them up.
Chapter 15
It was a dusky night in Merryland. The stars twinkled dully around a crescent moon that played hide-and-seek with thick gray clouds. The muted glow of streetlights haunted sidewalks through a veil of fog. And in the shadows lurked two creatures, each hunting, each also hunted.
Sally hugged herself with straitjacketed arms, but it did little to still the shivers that afflicted her this blustery night. She followed closely behind Bones, the Sherlock to her Watson, as the canine corpse tracked the scent of real, marrow-filled bones. Three times already the trails they’d followed had gone cold; first at a butcher’s shop, then in a meatpacking plant, and lastly at the pound. Sally had been hopeful that this third trail would reveal the D.C.’s private stash, but all they found were bah-humbugging hounds whose longing for a simple marrowbone made Bones seem like fresh meat.
After going at it for hours, they finally landed on a new path that had potential. It led the junior sleuths out of the town center, toward the more residential neighborhoods where many of the bone snatcher’s victims lived.
They passed a small ranch-style home with peeling white paint and partially hinged shutters. The mailbox had fallen off its post and lounged lazily on its side. Behind the chain-link fence, which was rusting and bent, lay a mangy little mutt. He sniffed in the air as Bones crept by. Licking his lips, he growled.
Suddenly the dog leapt to his feet, snarling and snapping and scratching wildly at the fence. Sally fell back and shoved Bones behind her. She was sure the crazed canine would have climbed the fence, had he not been chained to a post in his yard.
“Keep moving,” Sally instructed. Peeking in the front window of the dilapidated house as she and Bones hurried on, she saw Danny Boi wrestling with his brothers. Or so she thought, until she realized he was crying uncle, to the amusement of the larger boys. His parents, who watched TV in the adjacent den, did nothing to help.
“Poor Danny,” Sally said. “And poor crazy dog.”
“Grruff,” Bones concurred without lifting his snout.
A few blocks away
, Bones caught a stronger scent. On the corner of Euclid and Elm stood a moderately sized split-level with a small, open yard. A hound dog dawdled toward Sally and Bones but stopped a few feet from the property’s edge.
“Invisible fence, huh, boy?” Sally smiled at the floppy-faced dog. He grumbled and plopped down, staring at Bones with wistful longing. Sally was about to give the depressed pet her one marrowbone when the door to the backyard slammed open, and Tommy Gunn barreled out. His mother, wearing a Parents Against Death jacket, charged after him, yelling. Neither wanting to see or be seen, Sally and Bones quickly turned another corner and were out of sight.
“If we ever get out of this mess, maybe we should walk home with Tommy sometime,” Sally suggested. Bones wagged his tail in agreement.
As they neared the top of a beautiful, tree-lined street, they came upon a plucky little puggle that Sally instantly recognized as Peaches, Chati Chattercathy’s designer mutt. “Hi, Peaches,” she whispered as she leaned over the crisp white picket fence. But Peaches, who normally couldn’t resist any attention, only stared at them from inside a clapboard doghouse.
“Things really are bad,” Sally said to Bones. “I hate to say it, but I kind of get why all the dog owners are out for, well, bones. Their puppies need Prozac.” Sally reached into the brown bag and revealed the lone marrowbone. Peaches instantly perked up. “Here you go, girl,” she stage-whispered as she tossed the treat into the yard. It landed with a thud, and a light went on in an upstairs room.
Sally and Bones retreated into the shadows just as Chati appeared at her bedroom window. She shined a flashlight around the yard and dialed her cell phone.
“Mom? It’s me…me, Chati…Yes, I know you’re still at the show, but I heard something in the…no, of course I’m not making this up. There was a loud noise, and I don’t like being here alone. I had a really long day. My friend is missing, and I…Well, how soon will you and Daddy…yes, I know you have to work, but…well, sure the alarm’s on, but I’d feel a lot better if you’d just come…no, I’m sorry…OK, all right. I’ll see you in the morning, and I won’t bother you again unless there’s an actual intruder in the…hello?” Chati hung up her phone and did one more sweep of the yard with her flashlight. She kept her bedroom light on and pulled the drapes shut.
“See you, Chati,” Sally whispered, knowing her voice would not reach the second floor. She waved at the friend who could not see her as she and Bones crept from their hiding place.
As they wandered the deserted suburban streets, Sally realized how much she missed her father. She wondered where he was right now and if he was asking himself the same question about her. Probably not, she decided. He was most likely at the lab, working hard, focused on nothing but his experiments. Sally was picturing him smiling warmly at his well-behaved fruit flies when Bones picked up a fresh scent. He wagged his tail furiously and charged ahead. Sally jogged alongside him, hurrying to keep up. When he stopped abruptly, she tripped over her own feet and tumbled off the sidewalk. She landed in a heap at the foot of an elegantly paved, long, and winding drive.
Bones sat beside her, looking through the imposing front gates. She saw a fuzzy toy bone in the grass just on the other side.
“Bones, are you kidding me?” Sally fell backward and covered her face. “Did you bring us to the Vanderperfects’ just to find Princess Poopsy and her stupid toy? We were in search of real bones, Bones, not fuzzy ones! Now we’re going to have to start all over again. I can’t believe we wasted all this time. I can’t believe you—”
“Grwoff!” Bones interrupted. He motioned for Sally to look deeper into the yard. What she saw this time brought her to her feet. Just up the hill of the Vanderperfect Estate stood Princess Poopsy von Vanderpoodle, but she was not concerned with a plush toy bone. Instead, she was furiously digging, retrieving the one thing everyone so desperately wanted. Caked in dirt and happy as a clam, the pretty poodle popped up holding a slightly chewed marrowbone in her mouth. Sally patted Bones lightly on the head.
“By George,” she whispered. “I think she’s got it.”
Chapter 16
Sally regarded the Vanderperfects’ formidable gate. It stood at least thirty feet high, and each individual rail ended in a terrifying spearhead that Sally pictured Viola sharpening twice a day, just for fun. The hinges were fastened with what looked like Frankenstein’s neck bolts, and the place where the two sides came together was lined with an electrical cord that Sally imagined would give a painful shock. She turned to comment on their sorry situation, but her partner in crime was no longer by her side.
“GGGgggrrr-uff!” Bones said as he slipped through the narrow opening between two of the rails. “Rara, Ggruff,” he added, eager for her to follow.
“Seriously, Bones? Even a Hollywood starlet couldn’t fit through there,” said Sally. “I’ll just have to find another way in.” But after fifteen minutes of staring blankly at the rails, Sally worried that she might never figure out how to break or enter. Just as she was about to give up, she heard the low rumbling of an approaching car.
“Bones, hide,” she commanded and ducked behind a shrub.
From her somewhat obstructed vantage point, Sally saw Officer Stu’s squad car pull up to the Vanderperfects’ front gate. There were two other people in the vehicle with him, but she could only make out one: the dreaded D.C.
“Oh, come on,” she whispered to an unseen higher power. “Couldn’t you give me even the tiniest break?” As if in answer to her prayers, the gates creaked open and the squad car headed up the drive. Once it was out of sight, Sally slipped through the gates just as they were about to close. She hurried toward the grassy area where she had instructed Bones to hide and found him curled up in a flower bed.
“Pushing up daisies, are we?” Sally joked. Bones craned his neck toward her and kissed her softly on the cheek.
“Are you ready to do this?” she asked.
“Ggruff,” Bones confirmed, and he jumped to his feet.
Sticking to the shadows, the fugitives hurried up the drive. When they arrived at the Vanderperfects’ house, Vivienne was arguing with Officer Stu and his companions out front.
“Really, Officer, I don’t know what more I can tell you,” Mrs. Vanderperfect complained. She pointed at the D.C. “I told this gentleman that I heard Seymour say Sally was lying about that animal-thing of hers not liking real bones, and that was all. I really don’t know why you’re interrupting my evening for this.”
“I never said Sally was lying,” the previously unseen passenger interjected. “I reminded her that I had seen Bones touch a real bone once before, and she told me things weren’t as they appeared.” Seymour Simplesmith turned to Officer Stu. “You called court back into session before she had the chance to finish.”
“What else could she say?” the D.C. hissed. “She said the dog never touched a bone, but you saw him do it. End of story.”
“That is not the end of the story,” Sally’s father snapped. “And I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, Vivienne, but mine’s been derailed a bit too. My daughter is missing, or haven’t you heard?”
“Now, Seymour,” Mrs. Vanderperfect patronized. “There’s no need to take that tone with me.” She put an arm around her dead friend’s husband and moved him toward the squad car. “I truly am sorry that Sally has run off, but, well, let’s be honest. There’s always been something a bit off about your girl. She’s a sad, lonely child who will do anything for attention. Why else would she bother with that hellion-hound?”
The D.C. sniggered. Vivienne continued, “Soon enough, Sally will realize he isn’t going to get her the kind of spotlight she craves, so she’ll dump him and come crawling back home.” She helped Seymour into the passenger seat of Officer Stu’s car. “I only hope your relief at her safe return will not stop you from punishing her as she deserves.”
Sally was shocked. Hadn’t this woman been her friend?
Vivienne had always been so nice to Sally, and she was one of the only witnesses who hadn’t accused Bones at the trial. Why would she turn against them now?
As Mrs. Vanderperfect returned to her house, Seymour defiantly exited the car. “Vivienne,” he bellowed. She pivoted to face him, stunned by his thundering tone. “How dare you speak about my daughter like that? Sally is the best kid a parent could ever hope for, and she’s had to endure more than most. She is graceful, and she is kind.
“In fact,” he continued, his voice rising, “my Sally has such a big heart that she was able to love something that everyone else feared, to see the good in a helpless little animal that anyone else would have shunned. And she had the courage to protect him when people like you were calling for blood. If that makes her ‘a bit off,’ then that’s the kind of off I can be proud of.”
“Seymour, please—” Vivienne began, but Sally’s father carried on.
“Now, I am not a man who wastes his time with regret, but today I am filled with it. I didn’t stand up for my beautiful, smart, honest little girl when I should have. I didn’t put my faith in the one person who most deserved it. But that changes now.”
“Stu.” Seymour addressed the honorable lawman. “I’d like to withdraw my testimony, if that’s all right with you. If Sally says Bones detests bones, then he does. If she says he is innocent, then he is. And if I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”
Officer Stu nodded, and the D.C. threw his hands in the air. He headed for the squad car, but Seymour stopped him. “And you can trust me when I tell you that I am not a man you want to go up against when it comes to discovering the truth.”
Sally couldn’t remember ever having heard Seymour confront anyone about anything, let alone something to do with her. Happy tears filled her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around her first-rate father, but before she could even consider revealing herself, someone else sprinted from the shadows and leapt into Mr. Simplesmith’s arms.
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