by Lewis B. Montgomery
illustrated by Amy Wummer
The KANE PRESS
New York
Text copyright © 2011 by Lewis B. Montgomery
Illustrations copyright © 2011 by Amy Wummer
Super Sleuthing Strategies original illustrations copyright © 2011 by Kane Press, Inc.
Super Sleuthing Strategies original illustrations by Nadia DiMattia
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. For information regarding permission, contact the publisher through its website: www.kanepress.com.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Montgomery, Lewis B.
The case of the purple pool / by Lewis B. Montgomery ; illustrated by Amy Wummer.
p. cm. — (The Milo & Jazz mysteries ; 7)
Summary: Detectives-in-training Milo and Jazz must put their skills to the test to solve the mystery of how the water in the town swimming pool turned purple.
ISBN 978-1-57565-343-3 (library binding) — ISBN 978-1-57565-342-6 (pbk.) — ISBN 978-1-57565-364-8 (e-book)
[1. Swimming pools—Fiction. 2. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Wummer, Amy, ill. II. Title.
PZ7.M7682Cav 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2010051099
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
First published in the United States of America in 2011 by Kane Press, Inc.
Printed in the United States of America
WOZ0711
Book Design: Edward Miller
The Milo & Jazz Mysteries is a registered trademark of Kane Press, Inc.
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eISBN: 978-1-5756-5364-8 (pdf)
eISBN: 978-1-5756-5753-0 (ePub)
eISBN: 978-1-5756-5668-7 (mobi)
For Cassidy, Marina, Fiora, Zoë, Maeve,
Alexandria, Vivien, Ryujin, Cassandra, Abe,
Sierra, Annabel, Olivia, Elise, Nate, Sam,
Sophia, Julia, Evie, Meredith, Porter, Dillon,
Bridget, Leo, Sing’a, Elena, Egan, Sadie,
Cassie, Liam, and Ben. See you at the pool!
—L.B.M.
Milo stuffed his clothes in the locker, grabbed his beach towel, and grinned. His first day back!
Wait till the kids at the pool saw all the swimming stuff he’d learned at camp. His cannonball was totally—
“Hey, Milo!”
His friend Spencer walked into the locker room. With him was a tall blond boy Milo had never seen before.
“This is Noah,” Spencer said. “He just moved here a week ago.”
“Where from?” Milo asked.
Noah shook his hair back from his eyes. “California.”
“Sand and sun!” Spencer spread out his arms, pretending to surf. “Catching waves! My family went on a trip to California once. It was amazing.” He clapped Noah on the shoulder. “Bet you can show us some great swimming tricks, huh?”
“I can do a cannonball now,” Milo said.
“Cannonball! That’s nothing,” Spencer said. “In California, I saw a guy doing a triple somersault—off a cliff!”
Noah dug in Spencer’s duffel bag and pulled two swimsuits out. “Hey, Spence, which one’s for me?”
“The orange one is bigger.” Spencer turned to Milo. “The movers lost the box with Noah’s bathing suits. He hasn’t been able to swim since they moved in! So I’m lending him one of mine.”
“Milo! Come on!”
The sound of a girl’s voice at the locker room door made them jump.
“That’s Jazz,” Milo explained.
“Your sister?” Noah asked.
“No, just a friend.”
Jazz was more than just a friend, actually. She was his partner. Milo and Jazz were sleuths in training. Together, they solved real cases—with a little help from lessons they got in the mail from world-famous private eye Dash Marlowe.
Milo hurried out to meet Jazz.
She stood waiting, tapping a purple-flowered clog. “What took so long? I thought the mildew crawled off the wall and grabbed you.”
Milo laughed. “No, just Spencer. And a new boy—from California,” he added glumly, thinking of the triple somersault. So much for the tricks he’d learned at camp!
Jazz shot him a puzzled look. But all she said was, “Let’s stop by the snack bar. I need to get my goggles from Vanessa.”
At the snack bar, a teenage boy was cooking up some corn dogs. He wore a big, floppy, flowered sun hat and a pair of purple swim goggles.
“Hey, Ben,” Jazz greeted him. “How come you’ve got my goggles on?”
A voice floated up. “He’s my model.”
They peered over the counter. Jazz’s older sister sat cross-legged on the concrete floor, surrounded by paints and crumpled paper.
“I need my goggles back,” Jazz said.
Vanessa frowned. “But I’m not fin— Oh, forget it.” She dropped her brush. “It’s no good anyway.”
“What is it?” Milo asked.
“My final project. For my summer painting class. I just can’t seem to do anything with this theme.”
“Why? What’s the theme?”
“Fun in the Sun,” Vanessa said unhappily.
“That doesn’t sound so hard,” Milo said. “Swimming, picnics, volleyball . . .”
“But that’s so obvious,” Vanessa said. “Everyone will be doing that. I want to do something different.”
Ben turned from the fryer. “Don’t worry. You’ll come up with something. That last picture you painted was terrific. I totally could tell it was a cow.”
Vanessa gave him a weak smile. “Ben, you’re sweet.”
Blushing, he turned away again. Then, looking past Milo and Jazz, his face changed.
“Oh, no. Here comes trouble.”
A muscular young man swaggered toward the snack bar. He carried a clipboard and wore a whistle around his neck.
Jazz nudged Milo. “It’s Chip!”
Milo and Jazz had met Chip on their first case, helping Jazz’s older brother Dylan find his lucky socks. Chip was crazy about two things: sports and Chip. Not in that order, though.
Chip didn’t seem to notice them as he leaned over the counter. When he saw Vanessa on the floor, he frowned. “Hey! You’re getting paid to work. Shouldn’t you be frying fries, or popping . . . popsicles, or something?”
“It’s fine,” Ben said quickly. “I’ve got everything covered.”
“This is a pool,” Chip told them. “Not a—a—painting place.”
“What’s it to you?” Ben asked. “You’re not in charge of the snack bar. You’re a lifeguard.”
Puffing up his chest, Chip said, “Head lifeguard now. That’s like assistant manager of the whole pool, practically.”
Vanessa pushed up to her feet. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked Ben to model during work.”
Now Chip looked interested. “Model?”
Gathering up her paints, Vanessa nodded. “For my painting.”
Chip eyed the other boy’s getup. Flushing, Ben snatched the floppy hat off his head. He pulled the goggles off and handed them to Jazz.
Chip turned back to Vanessa. “Looks to me like you could use a better model.” He flexed his arms and flashed her a smile full of big white teeth.
Watching him, Ben scowled.
Jazz spoke up. “Chip, what’s that . . . thing stuck in your hair?�
�
Chip’s hands flew to his head. “What? Where?” He pulled a little mirror from his pocket and twisted around, trying to see.
Jazz pointed. “There. No, there. No, you’re still missing it. Better go look in the big mirror in the locker room.”
Chip rushed away.
Puzzled, Milo said, “I didn’t see anything in his hair.”
Jazz smiled. “Neither did I.”
Ben wasn’t smiling. “Practically assistant manager,” he grumbled. “I wouldn’t put that guy in charge of a wading pool.”
Noah came up to the counter, followed by Spencer.
“I’d like a hamburger, please,” Noah said. “No, make that two.”
“Two burgers?” Spencer asked. “You’ll be too full to swim!”
“I’ll be okay. I’m starving.”
Milo introduced Noah to Jazz. Then, after finding a clear spot in the grass to spread their towels, he and Jazz walked to the pool’s edge.
“On the count of three?” Jazz asked.
He nodded. “One—two—three.”
SPLASH!
Once the first shock had passed, the water didn’t feel so cold. Milo and Jazz were doing handstands when Spencer joined them.
“Where’s Noah?” Milo asked.
“Over there, with Carlos.” Spencer pointed.
Milo saw their school friend talking to the new boy. Two little girls in matching swimsuits tugged on Carlos’s arms.
“Carlos has to babysit the twins again,” Spencer said, shaking his head.
Milo groaned in sympathy. Watching his own little brother, Ethan, could be bad enough. But twins!
“I think they’re cute,” Jazz said. She was the youngest in her family. “What’s wrong with them?”
“What’s wrong is Carlos never gets to swim,” Spencer explained. “He has to watch Mina and Fina in the baby pool.”
“Don’t you ever help him?” Jazz asked.
Spencer looked baffled. “Me? Why?”
Jazz rolled her eyes. “Come on, Milo. Let’s go ask Carlos if he wants us to watch the twins for a while so he can swim.”
“We just got in!” Milo protested. But Jazz gave him a look that made him climb out and follow her. When they reached the baby pool, though, a delighted Carlos was handing the twins over to Noah.
Jazz smiled at the new boy. “I’m glad someone around here thinks of other people,” she said as Carlos sped away.
Noah shrugged. “I can’t go in now anyway. Spence was right—two burgers are too much!”
“Well, I bet Carlos is glad you ate them,” Milo said.
Noah nodded. “Yeah, he says it’s torture coming to the pool when he can’t swim. Poor guy! He told me sometimes he wishes they’d just close the whole place down.”
The next day’s forecast called for rain, so Milo and Jazz stayed in the pool until they looked like prunes. But in the morning Milo woke to sunshine pouring through his window. Another great day for a swim!
The pool didn’t open till eleven, so he spent the morning working on his new model airplane. Finally it was time to go.
“Can I come?” Ethan begged.
Milo thought of Carlos and his sisters. Then he thought of Jazz and sighed. “Okay.” At least Ethan was old enough to swim.
They smeared on sunscreen, then swung by to pick up Jazz. Milo knocked, and a voice yelled, “Around back!”
Vanessa had an easel set up in the yard. Jazz was crouched in the grass in a swimsuit, her arms stuck straight out in front of her.
“What in the world are you doing?” Milo asked.
“Water skiing,” Jazz said, looking pained.
“But you don’t have any skis,” Ethan pointed out.
“I know.” Jazz straightened up and rubbed her back. “We don’t have any water, either.”
“You lost the pose again!” Vanessa complained.
Jazz shot her a murderous look.
Hastily, Milo said, “We’re going to the pool. You want to come?”
“The pool!” Vanessa exclaimed, glancing at her watch. “Oh, no! I’m going to be late for work!”
“Won’t Ben cover for you?” Jazz asked.
Frantically folding her easel, Vanessa shook her head. “It’s his day off.”
She gathered up her things and zoomed off on her bicycle. Milo waited for Jazz to get her pool bag. Then, with Ethan trailing along, they followed on foot.
When they reached the pool, they found a crowd milling around outside.
Spotting Spencer with Carlos and the twins, Milo went over. “What’s going on?”
“The gate’s still locked,” Spencer said.
“Maybe the pool’s not opening today,” Carlos said cheerfully.
Mina—or was it Fina?—burst into a wail.
Milo checked his watch. It was fifteen minutes past opening time. “Is anyone inside?”
As if in answer, the gate swung open and Chip came out. The crowd surged forward.
Chip held his hands up to stop them. He announced, “The water-quality test results are inconclusive, which indicates a need to test for—uh, for more conclusive test results.”
There was a puzzled silence. Then an angry-looking mom called out, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Chip shot her an uneasy glance. “It means . . . the pool is closed.”
Fina—or was it Mina?—started crying. Grumbles and mutters spread through the crowd. The angry mom demanded to know where the manager was.
Mumbling something about “chain of command,” Chip fled back inside.
“There’s Vanessa,” Jazz said. “Maybe she knows what’s wrong.”
Vanessa stood at the bike rack talking to Ben. As Jazz and Milo came up, he was saying, “So, um . . . now that you don’t have to work today—”
“I know, isn’t it great?” Vanessa yanked her bike out and hopped on. “Now I have more time to work on my painting!”
With a wave, she pedaled off. Ben gazed after her, his mouth still hanging open.
“Ben, do you know why the pool is closed?” Jazz asked.
“Huh?” He looked at her. “Oh. No.” He jerked a thumb toward the gate. “Ask Mister Practically-the-Pool-Manager, why don’t you?”
Milo followed Jazz over to the tall wooden fence. They peered through the cracks between the slats.
“I can’t see anything,” he complained.
Jazz stepped back from the fence. “Let’s walk around,” she said. “Maybe there’s a better place to see through.”
Around the side, they found a spot where two slats had pulled slightly apart. They peeked through.
Chip stood at the edge of the pool, staring down into the water as if he had seen a shark circling.
Milo and Jazz stared at the water, too. Then, at the same time, they both burst out:
“It’s PURPLE!”
The water in the pool had always been a light, bright blue. Pool color. But now, it was definitely . . .
“Purple,” Milo said again. “Wow!”
Hearing him, Chip looked up. He marched over. “No pool today, kids. Go on home.” He tried to wave them away.
Jazz put her nose up to the fence. “Why is the pool that color?”
“It’s technical,” Chip told her. “We need to test the chlorine level and the, uh . . .” He scanned his clipboard. “Total dissolved solids . . . alkalinity . . .”
“You mean, you don’t know?” Jazz said.
“Well, it was fine this morning!” Chip slumped. “My first week as head lifeguard, and this happens.”
Milo couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. The look on Chip’s face reminded him of Ethan the time his favorite dino action-figure got stuck in the vacuum—
Ethan!
“We forgot my brother!”
Milo ran back to the gate, with Jazz close behind. To Milo’s relief, Ethan was still there, along with Spencer and Carlos and his sisters. Mina and Fina had stopped crying and were begging Carlos to take them to the playground.<
br />
“Want to come?” Carlos asked Spencer. “The twins can play in the sandbox while we skateboard. I want to try out that new ramp.” He zoomed his hand up through the air and grinned.
Spencer glanced toward the locked gate. He sighed. “I guess.”
“Hey, guys. What’s up?”
It was Noah, in a new surfer-style swim suit, a towel slung over his shoulder.
“Bad news,” Spencer said gloomily. “The pool is closed today.”
“You’re kidding! How come?” Noah asked.
“It turned purple,” Jazz said.
Six heads swiveled toward her. “Purple?”
Milo and Jazz described what they had seen through the fence.
“I never heard of a purple pool,” Carlos said.
“Me neither,” Jazz told him. “And I’m the queen of purple.”
That’s for sure, Milo thought. Jazz had more purple stuff than anyone he’d ever met. Even her detective notebook was purple. And she wrote in it with a sparkly purple pen.
“You two should investigate!” Spencer said.
“Investigate?” Noah asked.
“Jazz and Milo are detectives,” Spencer explained to the new boy. “They solved a mystery about my parrot, Floyd.” He turned to them. “I’ll bet you could solve this one, too!”
Milo and Jazz looked at each other.
“I don’t know if it’s a mystery,” Milo said. “Something probably just went wrong with the pool chemicals.”
Slowly, Jazz nodded. “Yeah . . . Chip will call the manager, and they’ll figure it out. Right?”
Ethan wanted to go to the playground too, so they all went off together. Jazz split off from the group, saying she had stuff to do.
When Milo got home, he found a message to call Jazz. She answered on the first ring.
“Guess what?” Jazz announced. “Pools don’t turn purple.”
“Huh? But we saw—”
“I mean, they don’t turn purple accidentally. I looked it up. They can turn green or yellow, if there isn’t enough chlorine in the water. But not purple.”
The Case of the Purple Pool Page 1