Who Stole New Year's Eve?

by Martha Freeman

  “Luau? Buddy? Are you okay?”

  Luau looked up at me and focused briefly. Not feeling so . . . he started to say, and then he went limp.

  “Dad!”

  All kinds of horrible things went through my head while Dad was examining Luau. The main one was that I couldn’t imagine life without my cat. We’ve always been together. We understand each other.

  But then Dad stood up and said, “I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he’s awake now, and his breathing is okay. Probably a virus or something. To be safe, I think I’ll run him to the vet. Do you want to come?”

  I nodded. “I’ll call over to Eve’s and tell her I can’t go to the parade.”

  “Oh, hey, wait—I forgot the parade,” Dad said. “Look, you don’t have to come to the vet. Luau’s ordinarily a very healthy cat, so whatever this is, he’ll fight it off. Mom’s gonna try to make the parade, so I can call and tell her to tell you what the vet says. If she doesn’t get there, I’ll call Sophie.”

  “Really?” I felt bad about abandoning Luau when he was sick. But wouldn’t I be abandoning Eve and Sophie if I skipped on the parade? And it wasn’t an emergency with Luau, right? “Okay, you promise to call?” I stroked Luau’s back and told him to get better. His answer was a weak-sounding mrrff that for once I couldn’t translate.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Out the door I ran, past our swans and the Lees’ geese, boots pounding the pavement. In the Henrys’ driveway, their SUV was waiting with the motor running. I saw it . . . and at the same time remembered Eve’s Frisbee.

  Oh, cripes, they were going to kill me, but it would be worse if I didn’t bring the Frisbee.

  Without breaking stride, I made a U-turn. Two minutes later, I was heading back toward the Henrys’ with Eve’s birthday present under my arm.

  What a day! I had been late to every single thing so far—and now I was late again.

  Eve, Sophie, and Eve’s mom were in the car waiting. Marshmallow was barking in a pet carrier in the back. Let me out of here!

  “Where’s Luau?” Eve asked as I climbed into the backseat next to Sophie.

  “And why do you keep being late?” Sophie wanted to know. “I had about a half a zillion things to do when I got home, and I got here on time, and now you didn’t even remember your very own cat, and I really think you—”

  I tugged my earlobes, but Sophie kept right on talking. Finally, she had to breathe, and I apologized and explained about Luau. I admit I made him sound a little more deathly sick than he actually was so Sophie would shut up about me being late.

  It worked, too, because then everybody got all worried and made a bunch of poor-kitty comments, and I had to reassure them. “He’ll be okay.”

  Then I changed the subject by handing Eve’s birthday present to her up in the front passenger seat.

  When she took it, she acted kind of girly. “For me? Oh, that’s so sweet, Alex. You shouldn’t have.”

  Next to me, Sophie pretended to stick her finger down her throat.

  Meanwhile, Eve unwrapped her gift and squealed. “Oh, Alex! I just totally love it!”

  “Uh . . . you knew what it was already,” I said.

  “Ye-e-es,” she said, “but it’s still special.”

  Mrs. Henry made the right turn from Chickadee onto Groundhog. “A Frisbee like that is a great gift, Alex,” she said. “The girls told me about your plan for a parade entry. I’m sure it’ll look terrific.”

  “Do you think anybody else is even going to show up?” Sophie asked. “It’s going to be kind of depressing if it’s just the three of us playing Frisbee toss with Marshmallow.”

  “On the plus side,” I said, “we’ll win all the ribbons!”

  “Hey—you’re right,” said Sophie. “This is a win-win situation! What’s Marshmallow’s costume, anyway, Eve?”

  “He’s going as a little white dog with a sparkly red bandanna,” Eve said. “It was the best I could do on short notice.”

  “It’s brilliant,” said Sophie.

  “Sophie, could you be done with the sarcasm?” I said.

  “What sarcasm?” Sophie said.

  “And anyway, the bandanna has sparkles,” Eve pointed out.

  “Is there an update on the case, guys?” Mrs. Henry asked. “You’ve been so busy all day, Eve said you’d tell me in the car.”

  On our way down Groundhog, we told about the video conference with her brother, Mr. Yoder, and about the sunflower seed crud. Then I said we’d figured out that whoever stole the ice sculptures downtown must have been super-efficient and well organized because he or she didn’t have very long between police patrols to pick up the sculptures and haul them away.

  And the girls explained what the Chickadee Court neighbors had seen and heard.

  When Sophie mentioned the part about the Blancos’ dog barking, Mrs. Henry laughed. “Marshmallow must’ve been asleep on the job.”

  Eve looked over her shoulder at Sophie and me. She was frowning. “Yeah, that’s strange,” she said. “Marshmallow usually always—”

  But what Marshmallow usually always does, we’ll never know, because Mrs. Henry said, “Hold on!” and braked suddenly, causing us all to lurch forward against our seat belts, and Marshmallow to yip furiously from his crate. “Sorry,” said Mrs. Henry. “What’s with all this traffic, anyway?”

  Sophie waved her arms as if she could clear a path. “We are in a hurry! Move, people!”

  “They can’t hear you, Sophie,” I pointed out. “Only we can hear you.”

  Mrs. Henry said, “Maybe there was an accident. Did you find out anything else?”

  “Not really,” I said. “I mean, we went over to the unfinished house and rescued a lady dancing, but I don’t think she had anything to do with Ice Eve. I think somebody was just messing with us.”

  Mrs. Henry nodded. “I see.” And from the way she said it, you could tell her point was really: You kids have had a whole day to work on this, and you haven’t made much progress, have you?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I have been a kid for more than eleven years, and one thing I’ve learned is it’s mostly a waste of time to argue with grown-ups. Now, though, I had no choice. I had the most detecting experience of anybody in the car. I needed Sophie’s and Eve’s help to solve the case. And I didn’t want the two of them to get discouraged.

  “Well, actually, Mrs. Henry,” I said politely, “when you’re working on a case, there is always a moment like this, a moment when nothing adds up, and it seems hopeless, and you want to quit. But then you do a little more work, and all of a sudden—when you least expect it—things start to make sense.”

  Inching the car forward, Mrs. Henry glanced at me in the rearview mirror and flashed a smile. “So if you weren’t going to the parade,” she said, “what would you be doing next to solve the mystery?”

  I thought about that. “Probably writing out a list of suspects.”

  The car came to a complete stop again. Sophie slumped back and frowned. Eve said, “So let’s talk about suspects.”

  “Do you have suspects?” Mrs. Henry asked.

  “There’re always suspects,” Sophie said, cheering up a little. “I think Mrs. Miggins did it.”

  “Sophie, you know that’s not how it works,” I said. “You don’t just pick somebody you don’t like and announce that’s who did it. You have to be objective and use reason!”

  “And you have to think about means, motive, and opportunity,” Eve said.

  “Oh, hogwash,” Sophie said. “Sometimes you just make a good guess.”

  “Okay, fine, Sophie,” I said. “Why Mrs. Miggins?”

  “Motive: She doesn’t like Ice Carnival,” Sophie said. “Means: She has a truck—she needs one for her store. Opportunity: She lives by herself except for Leo G. So for all anybody knows, she was running around all over town last night, stealing ice sculptures.”

  “But why did she steal Ice Eve?” I asked.

  Sophie s
hrugged. “Because she wanted the complete set?”

  Eve and Mrs. Henry laughed.

  Sophie frowned. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

  Mrs. Henry made the right onto Main Street—but the traffic didn’t let up.

  Eve said, “Do I get to pick now? Because I say Mr. Glassie. His motive is to get the insurance money for the Ice Carnival. His means is the trucks they used to haul the sculptures in the first place. And opportunity? Well, nobody would think a thing about him being downtown during the night. Even if he got caught, he could just tell people he was moving the ice sculptures around.”

  Sophie nodded. “Pretty good for a rookie. Plus I don’t like those little glasses of his or the way he bounces around all the time. Case closed. He did it. Except—well, I do have another suspect: Coach Banner!”

  “What?” I said.

  “Who?” Eve said.

  “Would that be Sam Banner?” Mrs. Henry asked. “Tom and I met him and his wife at an event a few weeks ago when we came out to visit. They were planning to invest in Tom’s technology—in grassoline.”

  “And did they?” Sophie asked. “Invest, I mean?”

  Mrs. Henry winked at us in the rearview mirror, which seemed to mean yes. But then she said, “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

  Sophie was nodding. “Oh, yeah. Sam Banner used to be in the army, so he’s good at organizing junk. He used to own a lawn care company, so I bet he’s probably still got trucks and equipment—”

  “But what about motive?” I asked.

  “Money,” said Sophie simply.

  “What money?” I asked.

  “I’m still working on that part,” Sophie said. “But which sculpture disappeared first? Ice Eve! And Ice Eve’s dad is the inventor of grassoline. And grassoline is going to make money—”

  “We hope!” Mrs. Henry interrupted.

  Sophie nodded. “Exactly. So there you have it—all neatly tied up and connected, uh . . . somehow.”

  “But don’t you have it backward?” I asked. “Sam Banner wants grassoline to succeed. That makes him in favor of Professor Henry.”

  “More likely,” Eve said, “somebody who didn’t like my dad or my family would steal Ice Eve. Like Yasmeen’s family. Hey—and besides that, they’re friends with that crazy Professor Olivo guy. And we know he doesn’t like my dad or his research.”

  “Yasmeen and her family would never steal anything,” I said.

  “What happened to being objective?” Sophie asked.

  “Give me a break, Sophie,” I said. “You’ve known Yasmeen almost as long as I have. Anyway, this whole thing can’t be about Eve’s family. Because that wouldn’t explain the ice sculptures downtown.”

  Sophie closed her eyes. “This must be the part where I always get a headache.”

  “Hey, you guys—what about this?” Eve asked. “Maybe we’ve been looking at the whole thing the wrong way. Maybe instead of trying to figure out who took the ice sculptures, we should be trying to find the ice sculptures. Whoever took the sculptures had to put them someplace, right? Someplace big if they’re all together, and someplace inside to hide them.”

  Sophie sat up as if now she was paying attention. “Also, wouldn’t it have to be someplace cold? Otherwise, the sculptures would get all melty.”

  “I know a place like that,” Mrs. Henry said. “And I know something else, too. It’ll be faster for all of us to walk to the college gates from here. So I’m gonna make a right turn and park in the lot. Okay?”

  We all agreed. It was only a few blocks to the college gates, and we didn’t have anything much to carry.

  “What place do you know that’s like that, Mom?” Eve asked as the SUV came to a stop.

  “RSF-Z.” Mrs. Henry pulled the key out of the ignition. “You know—your dad’s storage facility out beyond the stadium. The R stands for refrigerated. The college built it for him because some of the chemicals he uses to make grassoline are volatile at warm temperatures.”

  Volatile. There was that word again. I couldn’t remember exactly what it meant. But Sophie’s uncle Al had said something about delivering hazmats—hazardous materials—out to Professor Henry’s facility, too. Were those the same chemicals Mrs. Henry was talking about?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  You know the rare College Springs traffic jam that forced us to park five blocks from the start of the parade?

  It wasn’t caused by an accident at all.

  It was caused by the crowds of people coming to the first annual Ice Carnival Costume Pet Parade!

  We figured it out when we finally got to the college gates and saw how many people were already there. Sophie high-fived Eve. “We must’ve done really great on the publicity!”

  Besides a ton of parents and kids and pets wearing crowns and coats and sweaters and cowboy hats, we saw Tim Roberts taking pictures, and Mr. Glassie, who gave us a thumbs-up. We also ran into Mrs. Miggins and Leo G., who was wearing a black bow tie around his neck.

  Amazingly, Mrs. Miggins was smiling. “In one afternoon, my store sold out of doll clothes and kid costumes, too,” she told us. “It was almost as good as Christmas. If the parade becomes an annual event, I’m going to have to rethink my feelings about Ice Carnival.”

  The college gates are two stone pillars connected by a black iron arch. Under the arch the Ice Carnival people had set up a folding table, where volunteers were taking entry forms and money. Mrs. Henry turned to Eve, Sophie, and me. “You guys go ahead now and find the other kids you’re marching with. I’ll fill out your entry form and turn it in.”

  “Thanks, Mom!” Eve said.

  We turned to go, but Mrs. Henry called us back. “Wait—what’s your Frisbee team called?” she wanted to know.

  This was a moment when I really missed Yasmeen. She would have had a name on the tip of her tongue. But Eve, Sophie, and I looked at each other like—Yikes, I have no idea.

  It was Sophie who stepped up. “The Chickadee Court Precision Light-Up Frisbee Team. Okay?”

  Eve and I looked at each other. “Okay.”

  Then, with Marshmallow following on his leash, we set out to find the neighbors. The first one we came to was Jeremiah, who told us Yasmeen couldn’t come.

  This was not a surprise, but I still felt disappointed. Usually, Yasmeen would have loved an event like this, one that offered so many opportunities for her to boss people around.

  How long was she going to be mad at me, anyway?

  After Jeremiah, we found Billy and Michael Jensen, Toby Lee, Ari, Russell and Graham, Kyle Richmond, and Byron. The Jensens had brought a couple of their friends, and Ari had, too, so altogether there were a lot of kids on our team, plus one grown-up, Marjie Lee. She had to be there to watch her son Toby because he’s just little. Also, he’s what my mom calls a holy terror.

  “Okay, people, listen up!” Sophie shouted. “Who besides Eve brought a pet?”

  Kyle raised his hand. He had brought his black cat, Halloween, in a wagon. There was an orange bow tied to Halloween’s tail, but the way he was wiggling, you could see that the bow wouldn’t be there long.

  “Nobody else?” Sophie yelled.

  Ari said, “It’s too cold for my iguana,” and Graham said, “I’ve only got a goldfish,” and Russell said he’d left his dog, Myrtle, home because she’s got arthritis and can’t chase a Frisbee.

  “Okay, people, fine,” said Sophie. “So we’re gonna focus on the Frisbees. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. I want you to line up in three rows of four—”

  Jeremiah frowned, tugged Sophie’s sleeve, and said, “We can’t.”

  Sophie looked down at him. “Why not?”

  “Because there’s fourteen of us, and three lines of four equals twelve.”

  Sophie shook her head. “Seriously? Arithmetic at a time like this?” But she turned back to the rest of us kids and said, “So line up any way you want. Then what we do is toss the Frisbees. Who’s got one?” About half the hands went up. “O
kay—great. That’s enough. And Marshmallow here—where’s Marshmallow?”

  Eve held Marshmallow up high so everyone could see. Marshmallow yipped: Yikes—put me down!

  “Marshmallow’s our Frisbee dog,” Sophie explained. “You can tell by the bandanna, even though he’s puny. So what we’re gonna do is toss the Frisbees to each other, and when we miss, he’ll get on out there and retrieve. Everybody got that?”

  Everybody did.

  “So now we should practice, right?” Eve said.

  Sophie shook her head. “What are we—wimps? We’re just gonna do what comes naturally and blow the pants off all these other entries. I mean, who’s got light-up Frisbees? Us . . . or them?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I don’t know if you’ve ever been part of a precision light-up Frisbee team marching in a costume pet parade in Pennsylvania in late December.

  But in case you haven’t, I’ll tell you what it’s like.

  First, it’s cold, so you have to get over that. Then, till your teammates get their rhythm going, you’re afraid you’re going to get decapitated by one of the zillion Frisbees flying at your head. Finally, if the Frisbee dog marching with you is little, you have to watch your step because otherwise you’ll either trip or squish him.

  Besides all that, though, what it’s like is super-fun!

  Mr. Glassie had recruited the College Springs Community Band to lead the parade. The song they played is called “Baby Elephant Walk.” Later I found out that was because it was the only song they knew with an animal in the title.

  Meanwhile, I was just grateful they didn’t play “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

  The Chickadee Court Precision Light-Up Frisbee Team had been assigned to march right behind the band. I would be in line with Marjie Lee and Toby on one side and Ari on the other. But we’d all be pretty far apart, so that when we tossed our Frisbees they’d have a chance to get airborne.