“She…um…she didn’t approve of Mera’s appearance.”
“That’s outrageous!” Becca puts her hands on her hips. “She has no right to criticize you for how your dog looks. She probably takes her pets to fancy groomers and expects everyone to do the same.”
“Actually Mera is groomed regularly…but not in an ordinary way.” Todd gestures with his green-gloved hand to a wood-paneled beige house across the street. “Mrs. Craven is probably spying on me right now, and she’ll report me again if she sees Mera. Not that Mera looks bad…It’s easier if I just show you.”
With a sigh, he turns around and disappears into a back room.
Leo, Becca, and I shift uncertainly on the doorstep, sharing puzzled glances. When Todd returns, he’s carrying a very strange-looking dog.
We all stare, our mouths falling open. I have no idea what breed Mera is because she has purple tentacles wiggling around her small body.
“Meet Mera the Octo-Pup,” Todd says proudly. “She’s the superhero of my new Octo-Pup comic book. I’m signing my book at Comic Con, and Mera will sign her paw print. She has thousands of fans and loves wearing her costume. My neighbor thinks it’s cruel to put a costume on my dog, but it’s very light and as comfortable as a sweater. When Mera knows we’re going to a convention, she brings me the costume.”
Becca claps and bends down to pet Mera. “She’s adorable!”
“What a cute costume.” I touch a floppy cloth tentacle.
“A hybrid dog and octopus,” Leo adds in an impressed tone. “What are her superpowers?”
“Ink blasts and memory-sucking tentacles.” Todd glances uneasily across the street. “I’d love to talk comics with you, but I’m running late and really need to finish packing my car.”
“I’ll help,” Leo offers, and Becca and I offer too.
We carry boxes to a dark-green SUV, and when we finish, Todd opens a box and presents each of us with a comic book with a dramatic cover of Mera. She’s wearing her Octo-Pup costume and wrapping a super tentacle around a villainous shark-man. It’s cool when Mera dabs her paw on an ink pad and “autographs” our books.
We wave as Todd drives off, and I notice a curtain swaying and a face spying from across the street. The nosy neighbor, I’m sure. Well, she can report Todd if she wants, but my mother won’t take her seriously. I remember what Todd said about Mom being cool, and I smile to myself. I don’t always understand Mom, but my anger has faded and I just want to see her. I wonder if she’s home yet…
“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask Becca as she climbs onto her bike.
“Sure.” She hands it to me.
I tap in Gran Nola’s number and am relieved when she answers right away. But there’s no news of Mom. Not yet anyway.
“So what do you want to do now?” Becca asks as we wheel away from Larkspur Lane.
“I want to talk about finding out who dumped Buggy,” I say. “It’s a mystery we haven’t solved.” I feel optimistic because it’s Sunday afternoon and in a few hours I’ll see my mother. I can’t wait to give her a big hug and have our family back together.
“Or we could stop by one more address,” Leo says as he looks up from his tablet. “According to the map, Vine Road is on the ride back to your gran’s house.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, puzzled. “I don’t remember a road with that name.”
“It’s off Grove Street, halfway between Pete’s Pick and Pull and your grandmother’s house. It won’t take long to check it out.”
“But it would be a waste of time.” I shake my head. “There’s no reason to follow Mom’s trail anymore. She’ll be home tonight.”
Leo frowns but doesn’t argue.
After we pass Pete’s Pick and Pull and turn onto Grove Street, I pay close attention to the street signs. I’ve ridden this way a zillion times, so why haven’t I seen Vine Road? Could Leo’s map be wrong?
Abruptly, Leo stops by a country road half-hidden between thick trees. Becca and I slow to a stop while Leo spins around on his gyro-board to face us. I look up for a street sign, but there isn’t one.
My heart races like I’m running a marathon, only I’m standing still. And I get a strange déjà vu feeling as I look down the familiar dirt road.
Three days ago, Leo, Becca, and I were here.
It’s where we found Buggy.
- Chapter 13 -
Vine Road
“Why did Mom come to a deserted road?” I stare down the narrow dirt road where stalks of wheat stretch into the horizon. “There aren’t any houses.”
“The only building is the broken-down barn.” Becca balances on her bike as she points toward the dead end.
Leo shades his eyes with his hands to peer off in the distance. “If no one lives here, who called in the ZABAND report?”
“ZABAND must mean an abandoned dog!” Becca says excitedly. “Maybe someone out for a walk or driving by heard Buggy barking.”
“But Mom didn’t find Buggy,” I say with a puzzled glance around. Could Vine Road be where Mom went that seemed like a routine call until she learned new information?
Pursing my lips, I remember Mom asking where we’d found Buggy. When I’d described the old barn, locked gate, and no-trespassing sign, Mom said, “I think I know the place.”
Of course, she knew! She’d been here the day before. When she told me she had new information about a call, I thought she’d found it on the job. But she found out about Buggy at home—from me!
And she’d planned to come back to investigate Friday morning—but did she? And if she did, what did she find?
I kick off on my bike pedal. “Let’s go to that barn,” I shout over my shoulder as I zoom down Vine Road.
“Slow down!” I hear Becca calling behind me. “Wait for us!”
But I don’t wait—I pedal faster.
Questions whirl at superspeed in my head. How did Buggy end up in the barn? Did she wander away from her owners? Was she abandoned or stolen? Buggy is too tiny to wander this far away from a house, and a pug is too valuable to be abandoned. If she’d been stolen, Mom would have returned her to her rightful owner instead of allowing Becca to take her home.
Where did Buggy come from?
When I slam on my brakes at the dead end, dust whirls up and makes me cough. Becca and Leo roll up beside me, and we all stare beyond the notrespassing sign posted on the rickety gate.
“Don’t even think about going inside,” Becca warns with a sharp look at me.
“I’m not even sure how to get inside.” I study the caved-in roof, collapsed door, and boarded-up windows. “But Major did.”
“A dog can squeeze into places that wouldn’t be safe for us,” Becca says.
“According to my observations, the structure is too hazardous to enter.” Leo props up his gyro-board against a wooden post. “But we can climb over the fence and explore the perimeter of the barn.”
I bite my lip as I stare at the caved-in roof. “What if someone’s trapped inside?”
“Do you mean your mom?” Becca asks softly.
“I don’t know…maybe.” My voice cracks as I imagine Mom trapped beneath wooden beams, unconscious. “I really think Mom will come home tonight, but finding out she came here on a call is too much of a coincidence. I have to look.”
“We’ll investigate.” Leo narrows his gaze at the gate. “Unfortunately, you neglected to bring your spy pack, so we don’t have the key spider to pick the lock. But the gate will be easy to climb over. Allow me to go in first to inspect the area.”
“No.” I pull him back as he starts to climb. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Nice to know,” he says with a lopsided grin.
“I didn’t mean…” I jerk my hand off his arm, my cheeks burning. “We need to make sure it’s safe before anyone goes in.”
“Agreed, and we should let an adult know where we are,” Becca says, coming up beside me. She pulls out her cell and bends over the tiny keyboard. “I’ll text Mom.�
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“Good idea,” I say. Then I turn back to Leo.
He offers me his hand. “Would you like a boost over the gate?”
My cheeks are still hot from touching his arm, so I shake my head, hurry past him, and jump to grasp the top of the fence. I may be short, but I can jump high. I’m over the fence first. Leo and Becca land beside me.
We rush to the barn. One side is caved in so the roof slants to the ground. The barn was probably painted brown when it was first built, but now it’s a crumbling dust color. The doorframe has shattered into splinters. I walk around, stepping over weeds and broken boards, searching for a way in.
“Over here!” Leo calls.
I follow his voice around to the side of the barn where a glassless window frame yawns open into darkness. This must be how Major got inside!
I cup my hands around my mouth and call into the black hole, “Hellooooo! Is anyone in there?”
I tilt my head and listen…Nothing.
“Is anyone there?” I call louder this time. “Anyone?”
Again, there’s no reply.
Leo taps me on the shoulder, and I look into his somber face. “Your mother isn’t here,” he says softly.
“She could have come to search for clues about Buggy after she left the animal shelter,” I say with growing fear.
“So where’s the truck?” Leo asks. “If she was here, it would be parked by the gate. But there aren’t any vehicles on this road.”
He makes logical sense, but I can’t shake my fear.
“Mom would have risked her life to help an animal,” I say, unable to take my gaze off the barn. “I know there are lots of reasons to think she’s okay, but there are reasons to wor—”
“Clues!” Becca interrupts with a squeal. “Come look!”
“What?” Leo and I turn to stare at her.
“Prints in the dirt.” She points to the ground.
I shrug. “There are probably lots of paw prints from wild animals.”
“I recognize the tiny long ones,” Leo says, bending down to study the ground. “Those are raccoon.”
“Not animal prints.” Becca’s ponytail flops as she shakes her head. “Shoe prints!”
I squint at where she’s pointing and see wavy shapes in the damp dirt. “That curvy line could be a heel,” I say.
“And there’s another one over here,” Becca adds excitedly. “Only it’s bigger.”
“Excellent clue, Becca.” Leo takes out his phone and snaps photos of the ground. “According to my calculations, the larger print is 11 inches, and in the United States, the average female foot is 8.5, so this print is probably from a man’s shoe. The smaller print, though, is approximately six inches, which indicates a woman’s shoe.”
“A leather work boot,” I guess in a hushed tone.
“Perhaps.” Leo nods. “I’ll know more when I analyze the photos on my home computer.”
I bend down and compare the dirt prints against my foot. I inhale sharply because the length is identical. Mom and I both wear size six.
Before I can say anything, Becca calls out, “Hey, I found more imprints—but they aren’t animal or human.”
Leo and I hurry to the side of the barn where she’s pointing at a muddy patch. “There’s something familiar about this print, even though it’s weird,” Becca says. “A big square of crisscross marks.”
“Tiny squares like graph paper,” Leo adds.
I’m only half listening, still thinking about the Mom-sized boot print. Now more than ever, I’m sure Mom was here.
“I know what it is!” Becca’s shrill voice snaps me back to attention. “It’s a cage print!”
“Not a very big cage,” Leo says skeptically.
“But big enough to hold a little dog,” I say ominously.
Leo’s blue eyes widen. “Could it have been used to transport Buggy?”
“Yeah—and maybe other dogs too.” Becca turns to me. “Kelsey, do you have any idea why your mother would come here?”
I bite my lip as I remember my last conversation with Mom. “She mentioned shutting down a puppy mill and a dogfighting ring, but that happened last month.”
“Mr. Barton acted really suspicious,” Becca points out. “Maybe he stole other dogs. If we can prove he’s involved in more animal crimes, Sheriff Fischer can arrest him.”
“We don’t have any proof to suspect him,” Leo says.
“Can we just get out of here?” Becca shudders. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“Not before I see what’s inside.” I point through the black-hole window into the barn. “Leo, do you have a flashlight?”
“I do.” Leo glances at the pouch he has slung over his shoulder. “But I’m not giving it to you.”
“Come on, Leo. Hand it over.” I hold out my palm. “I just want to shine a light through the window.”
“You promise not to go inside?” he asks suspiciously.
“I just want to make sure no one is trapped in there,” I say, hoping he doesn’t notice I didn’t answer his question.
When he gives me a tiny flashlight pen, I thank him, then aim the beam through the frame of the broken window. Shining the beam back and forth, I can see that only half of the barn is crushed. Rotten wooden boards dangle from the caved ceiling to the dirt floor. I reach deeper into the hole, inhaling musky odors, probably from wild animals. The beam catches the flash of tiny eyes, and something small scurries under a woodpile. Too small for a skunk, maybe a rat—and where there’s one rat, there probably are dozens more. I should click off the light, turn around, and leave.
But my light glints off something white far in the back. It’s about the size of my hand and snagged by a pile of debris. Clothing? Paper? I can’t tell from this far away, and curiosity ripples through me.
I glance back at my friends. Becca is pointing to more footprints in the dirt, and Leo is snapping pictures. Before they can tell me not to do something stupid, I hold my breath and jump through the hole.
- Chapter 14 -
Buried in the Barn
I land on a broken board that wobbles; my feet slip, and I tumble onto the hard dirt. Wincing, I wipe my stinging hands on my jeans. As I stand, I bump my head. Ouch! Swiveling the flashlight upward, I see a dangling wooden beam hanging inches in front of my face. This whole barn is just a sneeze away from collapsing. I have to be quick.
“Kelsey!” Becca cries out. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I blink away dust to see Becca’s and Leo’s concerned faces framed in the glassless window.
“Come back before you hurt yourself,” Leo urges.
“I will after I check something”—I cough from the smell of musty dirt and hay—“over there.”
I aim the flashlight’s beam on the white, unnaturally shiny object among the wooden debris. Cautiously, I step over shattered boards, waving the beam wide around what’s left of the barn. Nothing moves except my shadow, which wavers in the flashlight’s glow.
Following the beam, I bend over to pick up a square of paper.
“Only paper,” I call out to my friends.
Becca shouts for me to hurry back, but I’m puzzling over the paper.
It’s shiny and crisp, instead of wrinkled and filthy like I would’ve expected. Did it blow in through the broken window, or was it dropped? I shine my flashlight in a wide arc around the barn. The beam sweeps low across the dirt-covered wooden floor, and I stare in surprise—more cage imprints!
The crisscross marks are like the ones we found outside. I count three small cages and a jumbo-sized one. Proof that animals—dogs?—were kept in this barn. Was Buggy in one of the cages? But if so, how did she get out? Why was she left behind?
I squint at the paper. Even with the flashlight, the small print is hard to read in the dark. I can barely make out the bold words at the top of the paper: Certified Pedigree.
Carefully, I make my way back to my friends. When I lift my arms, Leo gently pulls me through the window frame and
onto the ground. “Thanks,” I say, my cheeks warming.
Leo frowns. “You shouldn’t have risked your safety.”
“I’m fine.” I blink at the bright sunlight and brush off my jeans, wincing at the pain in my palms.
“Are you injured?” His tone softens.
I shake my head. “Just some scrapes.”
“Kelsey, what were you thinking?” Becca storms over, her glossy peach lips pressed together in annoyance. “You’re lucky the roof didn’t fall on you. And you’re a mess, covered in dirt and…Yuck, a spiderweb.” She plucks a silvery strand from my hair.
“I’ll fix my hair later. Look what I found.” I wave the paper like a prize. “A clue!”
“You risked being buried in the barn for a piece of paper?” Becca asks with a disapproving frown.
“It’s a document and may be important. See how shiny it is? Like someone dropped it recently—maybe Mom. I think the small shoe prints belong to her.” I swallow hard. “And I found four cage prints inside, including a really large one.”
“More cages?” Becca’s dark eyes widen. “That proves animals were kept here! I’ll bet it was that horrid dog thief Mr. Barton.”
“The footprints are large enough to be his,” I point out. “Although I don’t think he’s involved in this.”
“May I have the paper?” Leo holds out his hand to me. “Certified Pedigree,” he reads out loud. “American Ken—”
“American Kennel Club,” Becca interrupts with an excited jump. “I saw lots of those forms when Mom was raising Yorkies. Purebred dogs register with the AKC and usually have a lineage of champion parents and grandparents. It’s a big deal for dog shows.”
“Finding this paper has to be more than a coincidence.” I rub my chin thoughtfully. “But why would anyone keep dogs in a broken-down barn?”
All of our clues lead to more questions. Mom was called out to this barn because someone probably heard barking. But she didn’t find anything. Does that mean the dogs that were kept here had been moved? When we found Buggy the next day, Mom was very interested. She confided to me that she planned to investigate something suspicious in the morning. Did she come back here?
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