The X-Factor

by Franklin W. Dixon

  Joe and I exchanged a look. I was pretty sure he was thinking what I was thinking. This was our chance to question Ox about the tractor incident.

  “Excuse me,” I said as we watched Ox string a chain across the entrance to the RCA park. “Um, we heard there have been a few accidents at GX today. Is this place, you know, safe?”

  “Galaxy X is the safest way there is to live on the edge,” Ox rumbled. “Everything is under control, and we hope you enjoy your visit.” He sounded like one of the recordings that told park guests to keep their arms and legs inside the rides. I guessed that line was what McKenzie had told everyone to say if guests questioned them about recent incidents.

  Joe cleared his throat. “Dude,” he said. “Listen, you can square with us. We’re just curious. What’s the real scoop?”

  Ox shot him a wary look. Then his expression cleared, and he smiled. “Oh, wait. You two must be the secret agents, huh?”

  I winced. Great. Did everyone in the entire park know who we were now?

  “Um, what do you mean?” said Joe. “We just heard—”

  “Look, you don’t have to worry,” Ox said calmly. “I’m no snitch.” He glanced at the celebrities, who were still gathered just down the path talking to the cameraman. “It’s not like I’m going to give you away to any of those jerks with the cameras.”

  He seemed pretty sure about his theory. I decided we might as well give up and question him openly. “We just want to figure out if someone’s still trying to sabotage this place.”

  “Do you know anything about the tractor that drove off the cliff-diving wall?” Joe put in. “Like, how it got up there in the first place?”

  “You mean the one I’m supposed to drag out of the northwest lake?” Ox grimaced. “Yeah, I know how it got up there. I left it there this morning.”

  “You did?” I said. “Um, why?”

  “Tyrone’s orders.” Ox walked over and scooped up several of the model aircraft in one meaty hand. “I got a text about it. Said I should close down the attraction and drive the tractor up there so I could do some work on that part of the grounds after closing tonight.”

  “So you drove it up and parked it?” Joe prompted.

  Ox nodded. “Barely had time to get it up there before I got another text from the boss ordering me over to the other side of the park right away.”

  He sounded a little disgruntled. And no wonder. It sounded like McKenzie had him running all over the place nonstop.

  “So Mr. McKenzie must be kind of tough to work for, huh?” I said.

  Ox shrugged. “Tyrone’s not so bad. Besides, the pay is decent, and I like being outside doing an honest day’s work.”

  Just then a burst of rock music blared out over the park. There were speakers on all the lampposts, and they seemed to be turned up to full volume.

  “Attention, everyone!” McKenzie’s voice blared out as the music faded. “I’d like to personally invite you to a special presentation of the one-of-a-kind Galaxy X Super Stunt Spectacular! It’s totally free, and it starts in ten minutes over at our fantastic open-air auditorium. So come on over and check it out!”

  “Stunt show?” I echoed as the speakers clicked off.

  Joe gestured to a kiosk just outside the RCA park. Posters were plastered on all sides advertising GX’s various shows and activities. “Must be that one.”

  I stepped over for a better look. Sure enough, one of the posters was for the stunt show. It showed stuntmen performing various death-defying feats straight out of the movies. A lot of them seemed to involve fire or explosions.

  “Whoa,” I said to Joe, my blood running cold. “If someone wanted to mess with things and make them go horribly wrong, this stunt show sounds like the perfect chance!”

  Stunt Trouble

  Frank and I said a quick good-bye to Ox and booked it over to the auditorium. It seemed pretty obvious that this special stunt show was McKenzie’s way of distracting everyone from the latest trouble in the park. I just hoped it didn’t backfire!

  We got there just as the show was about to start. If I’d been a regular guest, the stunt show would’ve been awesome. McKenzie had hired a bunch of real stuntmen (and stuntwomen) from Hollywood, and they were totally amazing. They did all kinds of tricks, many of which I remembered from seeing them in the movies.

  As it was, though, Frank and I spent the entire time on the edge of our seats, watching for anything to go wrong. Several times I was on the verge of rushing to the rescue. Once when a motorcycle slipped off the high, narrow board it was driving over and crashed to the ground, I actually leaped to my feet. Frank had to grab my arm to stop me from taking off over the seats in front of us. Sure enough, I saw that the rider was parachuting to the stage, grinning and giving a thumbs-up. I covered up my mistake by letting out a whoop and pumping my fist, pretending I was just excited by the stunt. Luckily, nobody was paying attention to me.

  Finally the show ended in one last blast of explosions and flamethrowers. When the smoke cleared, the performers came forward to take their bows. Whew! It looked like they were all still in one piece.

  “Okay, that was a waste of time.” Frank stood up. “Let’s get back to work.”

  I nodded. “Should we go back and see Ox Oliver?”

  “Nah. Since he knows who we are, he’s not likely to tell us anything useful even if he is the bad guy. I think we should track down Nick. We still haven’t talked to him about sending us on that wild-goose chase to the diving wall.”

  “Sounds good.” I scanned the auditorium. Most of the guests were heading for the exits, eager to get back to the rides and activities. But a few people were standing in a group down near the stage. I spotted Tyrone McKenzie in the middle. Most of those around him appeared to be the remaining celebrities, including Sprat and the others from the RCA incident. “There’s dear old dad,” I said. “Don’t see Nick with him, though.”

  “Big surprise there. I don’t think those two hang out much, at least voluntarily.” Frank glanced around. Then he blinked and did a double take. “Hey. Speaking of McKenzie’s kids, is that Erica back there?”

  I grinned and opened my mouth to rib him about his “girlfriend.” But then I caught a glimpse of Erica and forgot all about it. That’s because she was sitting sort of crumpled over in the last row—and it looked like she was crying!

  Okay, that was weird. Erica wasn’t the type of girl to cry because she chipped her nail polish or something. Nope, if she was crying, something had to be seriously wrong. And under the circumstances, that made me think we’d better talk to her right away.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s see what’s up.”

  Erica glanced up when we approached. She sniffled and rubbed her eyes, looking sheepish and annoyed at the same time.

  “What?” she blurted out.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not.” Then she grimaced, realizing how lame the lie was, considering we were looking right at her. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Come on.” I sat down next to her. “Talk to us.”

  Frank stood there, looking sort of awkward. “We want to help,” he added.

  She shrugged and stared at her hands. “Like I said, it’s no big deal,” she mumbled. “It’s just, this whole stuntman thing…”

  If I were a cartoon character, a little lightbulb would’ve appeared above my head at that moment. “Hang on,” I blurted out. “Your dad was a stuntman, wasn’t he?”

  Frank’s eyes widened. He’d obviously just remembered the same info I had. While researching Tyrone’s family, we’d learned that Erica’s father had been a stuntman. He’d died during a stunt gone wrong while shooting a video for one of the musical acts McKenzie produced. That was how McKenzie and Erica’s mother had met.

  “Yeah.” Erica sniffled. “I didn’t want to watch this show. But I couldn’t resist, you know? I was so sure something would go wrong again, just like… well, you know.”

  I r
eached over and squeezed her arm. “It’s okay,” I said. “We understand. Right, Frank?”

  “Uh—what?” Frank blinked. “Um, I mean, yeah. Of course we do.”

  Erica shook off my hand and stood up. “Thanks,” she said, her voice quavering only a little. “Anyway, I should go. See you around.”

  She rushed off. I watched her go, then glanced at Frank. “Dude,” I said. “You could’ve been a little more sympathetic. I mean, you know she digs you!”

  “Whatever.” Frank still looked uncomfortable. “It’s not like anything I said would make her feel better. She lost her dad to a bad stunt, remember?”

  “Yeah, that’s my point.”

  Frank bit his lip. “Listen, I feel bad for her too. But we have a job to do, remember? Speaking of which, I had a thought about what Ox Oliver told us.”

  I could tell he was trying to change the subject. Typical. But I decided to let it slide. I’d been trying all my life to teach Frank how to copy my smooth touch with the ladies. At this point, I was starting to think it was a lost cause.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Why would McKenzie have Ox park that tractor up there and then call him away again?” Frank rubbed his chin. “Seems a little suspicious, doesn’t it? Especially taken together with what McKenzie said earlier about the park maybe not doing so well…”

  “Not being worth it, I think is how he put it.” I nodded, forgetting about Erica’s angst as my mind returned to the case. “Think we should go have another chat with ol’ Tyrone?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  McKenzie was still hanging with the celebs on the other side of the auditorium. Frank and I hurried over. We arrived just in time to hear a hot young rap star complaining about all the trouble.

  “Now I get why Kirk and the others left yesterday,” he exclaimed. “Me, I’m out of here too, just as soon as my agent sends a chopper.”

  “Yeah,” an actor put in. “I mean, I know Bret’s death was an accident and all, but I’m starting to wonder about this place.”

  “I hope you won’t let a few unfortunate incidents stop you from enjoying everything Galaxy X has to offer,” McKenzie said. His voice sounded pretty normal, but the stress was showing in the form of a twitch at the corner of his mouth. ATAC teaches us to look for stuff like that. “In fact, if any of you would like to be my guests at a special video game party tonight…”

  “No way, man.” A popular NASCAR driver shook his head. “I read on the StopGX site that this might be only the beginning. Could be dangerous to stay, know what I mean?”

  A few of the others let out murmurs of agreement. Then Sprat brayed out a loud laugh.

  “Are you cats for real?” he exclaimed loudly. “I’m not afraid of what some lame website says! Even if there is someone messing with the place, who cares? GX isn’t about being safe, is it? This just makes the danger seem more real—and makes the whole deal more fun.”

  Interesting. That comment almost sounded like something our old pal Sk8rH8r might say. Wasn’t the whole anti-GX thing about the park trying to make dangerous stuff too safe?

  “So you’re sticking around?” one of the other celebs asked Sprat.

  Sprat squared his shoulders. “Just try to pry me out of here,” he said. Then he leaned toward McKenzie and smirked. “Well, as long as my visit is still comped, anyway.”

  Tyrone’s mouth was twitching more than ever. “Of course. I’m thrilled to have you here as my guest for as long as you’d like to stay.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Frank broke in. “Could we speak with you for a minute?”

  McKenzie almost seemed relieved for the excuse to get away from the celebs. “What is it?” he asked as the three of us moved out of earshot.

  “We just wanted to ask you about those texts you sent Ox Oliver earlier,” Frank said.

  “What texts?” McKenzie was watching as the celebs scattered for the exits. “You mean about cleaning up the model planes?”

  “No, earlier than that,” I put in. “You know—about the tractor.”

  “What tractor? Oh, you mean the one someone dumped in the lake?” McKenzie scowled. “Yeah, I sent him a text to try to pull it out after hours. What about it?”

  Frank shook his head. “We mean the texts before that. About bringing it up to the diving wall. And then the one afterward about coming over to another part of the park.”

  By now McKenzie was looking irritated. “What are you talking about?” he snapped. “I’ve only sent Ox two texts all day. I didn’t tell him to park that tractor up there. Who told you that?”

  “Uh…” I shot Frank a confused glance. What was going on here? Did this mean Ox was lying to us? Or could McKenzie be the one with something to hide?

  At that moment a loud beep came from McKenzie’s pocket. He pulled out his PDA and glanced at it with a frown.

  So much for that interview. McKenzie almost always seemed more interested in talking on the phone or texting than he did in dealing with us face-to-face.

  But this time he didn’t mutter an excuse and walk away. Instead he read the message on his PDA and then held it out to us. His face was as white as a sheet.

  “What is it?” I asked. Craning my neck to read over Frank’s shoulder, I took in the text message:

  YR STUNTS R FAKE JUST LIKE GX

  MINE R REAL

  READY 4 MORE?

  —SK8RH8R

  Too Many Suspects

  “Well,” Joe said, “guess that removes any doubt. There’s definitely still someone out there messing with us.”

  Tyrone looked shaken. “This is an outrage,” he fumed, shoving the PDA back into his pocket. “You two have been here how long now? And some psycho is still out there trying to ruin me! What was the point of bringing in ATAC, anyway?”

  I didn’t bother to point out that we’d nabbed two sets of culprits already. Was it our fault that a lot of people seemed to hold a grudge against GX?

  “Don’t worry, sir,” I said. “We’re working on it. I’m sure we’ll have the responsible parties identified soon.”

  “You’d better.” McKenzie glared at me. “Otherwise GX is doomed.” He started striding back and forth in front of us like a tiger in a tiny cage. “There’s not much else I can do to distract people and save the park’s reputation. I mean, I’ve already pushed my crew to the limit to get Bomber Pilot ready to open tomorrow.” He stopped short and glared again, including Joe this time. “Not to mention the new bunch of crazies weeping around over that singer, plus the usual old gang of crazies outside…” He threw up both hands and let out a sort of strangled roar. Then he stomped off without another word.

  “Gee,” said Joe sarcastically as soon as McKenzie was gone. “Think he’s a little upset?”

  We drifted out of the auditorium, stopping at a private spot behind a gift shop. “We’d better figure out what to do next,” I said. “Let’s go over the clues.”

  “What clues?” Joe rolled his eyes. “So far, just about the only thing we have to go on are those alleged text messages to Ox.”

  I nodded slowly. “Right. He says he got them, McKenzie says he never sent them. So which of them is lying?”

  “Well, McKenzie’s been on our suspect list all along,” Joe pointed out.

  “True.” I leaned back against the gift shop’s back wall. “But we already know quite a bit about him. Maybe we should try to find out a little more about Ox.”

  Joe was already pulling out his phone. “I’ll call ATAC HQ and get them on it right away.”

  While we were waiting for them to get back to us, we continued our search for Nick. We also went back to discussing Tyrone McKenzie.

  “McKenzie’s potential motive is starting to seem stronger all the time,” I pointed out. “What if he’s trying to shut himself down so he can collect some kind of huge insurance payout?”

  “It’s possible.” Joe kicked at a rock in the path. “And he could’ve done most of the stuff himself, or paid someone to do it for
him.”

  We hadn’t reached any new conclusions when Joe’s phone rang ten minutes later. It was ATAC reporting back on what they’d dug up on their initial check into Ox.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to share. “Vijay says it’s hard to find anything on this guy—almost like he never existed,” Joe reported after hanging up. “Says they’ll keep working on it and get back to us.”

  “Weird,” I said. “Usually the HQ guys can give us a complete dossier on just about anyone within, like, thirty seconds.”

  “Yeah. Definitely suspicious. And despite what Ox said about liking the job or whatever, he doesn’t seem too crazy about McKenzie.”

  I nodded. “Ox definitely has access,” I mused. “He can probably get into any part of the park day or night without raising suspicion. Plus, as the go-to maintenance guy, it’s a safe bet he’s got the mechanical and technical know-how to pull off the stuff that’s been happening—especially messing with the rides.”

  “So should we go talk to him again?” asked Joe. “Or keep looking for Nick?”

  “Let’s try to find Nick first.”

  “Good call. It still seems pretty suspicious that he sent us over to the cliff wall after Lenni when she was nowhere in sight.”

  We kept walking. “Although, come to think of it, Erica said Nick is hopeless when it comes to anything mechanical,” I remembered as we neared the arcade. “So how could he pull off most of the stuff?”

  Joe smirked as we both drifted to a stop. “Oh right, I’d forgotten about that. Then again, I’m not the one hanging on the lovely Miss Erica’s every word.”

  I looked at him. “Focus, okay? My point is, we already know Erica knows her stuff when it comes to tech and mech—everybody says so, and we saw it herself when she juiced up that roller coaster. So if she says Nick can barely work his iPod, I tend to believe her.”

  “I see your point. But I still think we should check him out just based on the tractor thing. He could have an accomplice.”