Broken glass—and a broken table— aren’t comfy.
I was in so much pain that I couldn’t help but loosen my grip, and Justin managed to squirm away. He scrambled across the room, overturning chairs as he went to block our path.
Joe cornered him by the champagne table, but Justin wasn’t gonna quit. He upended the whole thing. All the crystal glasses and chilling champagne went sliding off, crashing loudly and falling right at Joe’s feet.
“Ouch!” Joe shouted, hunching over and cradling his right leg. “Darn it!”
“Are you okay?” I called.
“Yes,” Joe said in a pained voice.
Now I reallywanted to get this guy.
I cut Justin off by the stage, but he slipped past me. Still, I was so close. The only thing separating us was the table with the enormous wedding cake. I ran around it, but before I caught up with Justin, he lifted the table.
“You wouldn’t,” I said.
Justin grinned mischievously. Then he lifted the table higher, and the entire cake slipped off and landed on top of me. Suddenly I was covered in white buttercream frosting and knee-deep in sponge cake.
Joe had recovered enough to chase after Justin, but the guy was fast. It didn’t help that the little dog kept yipping and jumping, like this was all some sort of game we were playing.
She (I assumed, from her pink collar) kept getting under our feet, and there was no way I was going to kick a defenseless little dog—not even if it had an annoying, high-pitched bark.
Justin shoved Joe and he landed in the chocolate fountain. The dog leaped into Joe’s lap.
Justin made his way to the service entrance again. I guess he figured the cops had overlooked that one too—and who knows, maybe he was right.
I had to stop him. Problem was, I was at the other end of the room. I knew that if I tried to run, I wouldn’t make it. I had to think of something. Looking around frantically, it suddenly came to me.
I hopped onto the stage, took a running jump, and flew through the air, reaching for the giant disco ball that was hanging from the ceiling.
Bingo. I was on.
Using my momentum, I swung across the room, straight toward Justin. I pulled my legs back and then kicked as hard as I could. Bam!
Justin went down, but I knew it wasn’t over—and I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. I let go and landed on top of him. I pushed him onto his stomach and grabbed his hands, holding them firmly behind his back and keeping my knee pressed between his shoulder blades.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I said. “So you may as well tell us where it is.”
“Where what is?” asked Justin, spitting blood from his mouth.
“The bomb,” I said.
“What are you talking about?” asked Justin.
“Come on, Justin,” I said.
“I’m not Justin,” he replied.
Okay, whatever. Obviously he wasn’t being very cooperative. I signaled to Joe, who’d climbed out of the chocolate fountain and had the dog tucked under his arm.
He quickly unlocked the front doors and ten officers streamed inside the room. So did Henry’s security team and the remaining car handlers. Tanner, Maria, Douglas, and . . . wait a minute.
Justin?
I looked at the guy on the floor—the one the cops were now handcuffing and yanking to his feet. He was a Justin lookalike. He had the same freckled face, the same dark curly hair, and he was wearing the same thing: the M&P auction shirt with a pair of khakis.
Yet Justin was standing in front of me. Come to think of it, he was looking really angry, too.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Jeremy, I can’t believe you did this,” said Justin. “Officers, this is my twin brother, and I swear I had nothing to do with this. Tell them, Jeremy.”
“It’s true,” Jeremy said. “My brother is a goody-goody, much to my disappointment. He refused to help me, which is why I got caught.”
Justin was really fuming now. “Don’t blame me for this,” he yelled. “I’m not the one who’s been in and out of juvie since age ten.”
“Dude, relax,” said Jeremy. “They can’t do anything to you. You knew nothing about this.”
Justin shook his head. “Of all the stuff to steal, you had to go after something at the M&P auction? This is the best job I’ve ever had. Thanks for ruining it for me.”
Maynard stepped over the mess and walked toward Justin. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he said, “Henry wouldn’t want you fired over this. And if I have anything to say about it, whoever takes over the M&P auction house won’t let you go either.”
“Hey, is that my shirt?” asked Tanner.
Jeremy nodded. “I stole it so I’d be able to blend in. I needed better access to the cars.”
“You mean this was all about stealing a car?” I asked.
“Of course,” said Jeremy.
“And you have no other motive?”
“What do you mean?” asked Jeremy.
“Yeah, Hardy. What the heck are you talking about?” asked Tanner as he sneered at me. Even Maria looked at me like I was crazy.
I was hugely disappointed. Obviously, Jeremy was just a small-time crook. The guy had nothing to do with the bomb.
Joe and I had to find out who did, though, before it was too late.
As I cleaned the frosting off my chest, I tried to look on the bright side. At least the dog had stopped barking. She was too busy eating the cake that was stuck in my shoelaces. “Will you get this thing away from me?” I asked.
Joe picked up the dog and looked at the tag. “Uh, Frank?” he said.
“Yes?”
“Guess what this dog’s name is?”
“Joe, there’s no time for this,” I said. “We have to find the bomber. I need a new shirt, and you have to get cleaned up too.” Looking down at Joe’s leg, I noticed it was gushing blood from a cut just below his right knee. I turned to Chief Malrova and asked, “Do you know where we can find a first-aid kit?”
“I’m serious,” said Joe. “Guess.”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Fluffy? Snowflake? Rover?”
Joe shook his head. “It’s Bobo.”
I raised my eyes to his.
11
Bobo Revealed
Operation Bobo was squirming under my arm. Or at least, Bobo was. It was the weirdest thing. Frank and I checked the dog all over and we didn’t see a note, or a sign, or any kind of explosives. As far as we could tell, she was a little ball of white fluff with a bright red collar and a gold name tag. Nothing more.
Still, Chief Malrova was taking every precaution. After we’d patched up my leg and found a new shirt for Frank, he asked us to bring her to the bomb squad so they could check her for explosives. So now we were on our way to the southern tip of the resort. Apparently the squad was waiting in a van marked COMPLETE CATERING.
“Do you think there’s a bomb inside her stomach?” I asked. “Like Beller made her swallow something?”
“Could be,” said Frank with a shrug. “There’s no other feasible explanation.”
I shifted Bobo from one arm to the other and said, “I’m surprised Bobo didn’t get to the cake before Jeremy did. And as for the chocolate fountain—chocolate’s lethal for dogs. It could have killed her.”
“Not nearly as lethal as a bomb,” Frank pointed out. “Maybe Beller wanted out of his wedding. Blowing up the entire place before the event sure would make a big statement. The ceremony would have to be canceled and he’d get to collect all that insurance money after the resort was destroyed.”
“I still think he planned this to get back at Henry,” I said.
“Well, he already did that. Or someone already did. So why the second, larger bomb?”
“Maybe Beller didn’t know about the Duesen berg when he gave the orders,” I said. “Maybe he just needed a temporary hiding place for the dog. Maybe Bobo is supposed to be somewhere else for the three p.m. explosion.”
/> We both walked faster and finally found the bomb squad van parked by the eighteen hole of the golf course. Once we got there, we handed Bobo over to one of the detectives.
“You won’t have to harm her, will you?” I asked.
The guy shook his head. “No, we’ll just put her through an X-ray machine, and test her skin and saliva for traces of ammonium nitrate and other bomb-making chemicals.”
Frank and I waited outside, kicking around the same old theories without coming up with any new ideas. About ten minutes later, the guy handed Bobo back to us. “She’s clean,” he said.
“Okay.” I took the dog, who seemed very happy to see me. I threw my head back so she’d stop licking my face, but she still managed to nail my chin with her small pink tongue.
Frank asked, “Uh, what are we supposed to do with her now?”
The guy shrugged. “Don’t know. Not our problem.” Then he slammed the door closed and drove off.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Let’s go back to the ballroom,” said Frank. “Let Chief Malrova deal with Bobo.”
We were just passing by the spa when we heard someone scream. “Bobo?”
I turned around and saw Ella Sinclair running toward me. One of Beller’s security guards was trailing her by a few feet. Lucky for us, it wasn’t the same guard from the spa this morning. I’d be pretty happy if I didn’t see that woman ever again.
“You know this dog?” I asked.
Rather than answer me, Ella scooped Bobo out of my arms and started kissing her.
“Bobo, what happened to you? You’re such a mess,” cried Ella, as she held the dog at arm’s length so she could inspect her.
Okay—Frank’s jeans were still covered in cake, and I had chocolate coming out of my ears, but Ella was focused only on the dog, who wasn’t even that dirty.
Huh?
“So Bobo is yours?” Frank asked Ella.
“Yes, she is,” said Ella, squeezing the dog, who kept licking her face. “Where did you find her?”
“In the ballroom back there,” Frank pointed over his shoulder.
“You mean where I’m getting married?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
“You’re kidding.” Ella looked from Frank to me, and back to Frank again. “Wait a minute,” she said, pointing down at his jeans. “Is that my wedding cake you’re wearing?”
Frank turned bright red. He glanced down at himself and said, “Um, I think so.”
Ella’s eyes widened. “What happened?” she asked.
“Long story,” said Frank.
“I have time,” Ella replied.
“Um, someone stole one of the cars from the M&P auction, and he ended up hiding out in the ballroom where you’re getting married,” I said. “The thief—Jeremy is his name—he got a little destructive.”
“How do you mean?” asked Ella.
“Well, he sort of knocked over the cake,” said Frank. “And that champagne tower thing, and then some of the tables.”
“The chocolate fountain isn’t in great shape either,” I added. “The good news is, the cops caught the bad guy.”
“Okay, but how bad is the ballroom?” Ella wondered.
I looked to Frank, who just shook his head. Turning back to Ella, I said, “Look, it’s probably better if we just show you.”
As we took off for the room, Frank said, “I’m sure they can fix everything in time.”
I didn’t agree, but it’s not like I was going to say so in front of Ella.
The police had hauled off Jeremy by now. They must have finished their investigation, too, because except for the big fat mess, the ballroom was empty.
Ella gazed around. Her eyes were wide open and disbelieving. She kept opening her mouth to speak, but no words would come. Finally she asked, “Bobo did all of this?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “You see, there was this car chase, and then a crash, and the guy escaped. And then we found out he wasn’t really who we’d thought and . . .” My voice trailed off when I noticed Ella staring at me with this completely confused expression on her face.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
Ella didn’t say anything for a few moments. I guess she was taking in the mess. The fountain had tipped over, and the chocolate that wasn’t on me was now seeping into the red carpet. The broken cake was on the floor. Maybe the top tier could be salvaged, but probably not. A few of the tables were on their sides, and there was glass everywhere.
I thought Ella was going to scream at us. So it was a total surprise when she started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
Ella’s face was bright red, and she was gasping for air. She was too hysterical to even answer me.
“Why are you laughing? This is a very bad situation. You’re supposed to get married here in just a few hours, and this place is in shambles.” Some thing about Ella’s laugh was infectious, though. Even as I said it, I started cracking up. Frank did too.
“This is not a laughing matter,” my brother said, between gales of laughter.
“I can’t help it,” she said. “It’s just that Jake hates this dog. He begged me not to bring her to Phoenix. I finally had to sneak her in here, and he was so mad when he found out. So it’s funny that Bobo was involved, and . . .”
Ella’s voice trailed off. Her eyes narrowed. “Jake,” she whispered. “I don’t believe it. How could he?”
She wasn’t laughing anymore.
Neither were we. I looked to Frank, who shrugged. We had no idea what she was talking about.
Ella went to the door and screamed, “Jake Beller!”
Her security guard rushed forward and asked, “Is there something wrong, ma’am?”
“There sure is,” she said, her voice hardened to a tone that was all business. “Get me Jake, please.”
The guy said something into his walkie-talkie, and a few minutes later, Beller came rushing over to the ballroom.
“What’s the problem, sweetheart?” Beller asked. He seemed really worried about Ella, but when he realized the room was destroyed, he got furious. “What happened here? Who did this? I want to know who did this. Someone’s going to pay for this! Don’t worry, baby. It can all be fixed. We’ll fly in another cake, and there’s plenty more crystal. . . .”
“Stop it,” said Ella. “I don’t care about the stupid room. I don’t care about the cake or the crystal or anything. What I care about is Bobo.” She held the dog up to Beller’s face. Bobo growled and bared her teeth at him.
“Get that thing away from me,” said Beller, taking a few steps back and putting his hand in front of his face. “You know I’m deathly allergic to dogs.”
“You can’t be allergic to Bobo,” said Ella. “She’s a hypoallergenic dog. She’s got hair instead of fur, so she doesn’t shed.”
“You’ve told me that a million times,” said Beller. “That doesn’t change the fact that she gives me hives.”
“So your solution is to kidnap her on our wedding day?” Ella screamed. “How could you?”
Frank and I walked a few feet away so we could figure out our next move without being heard. Not that they’d bother listening to us. Beller and Ella were wrapped up in their argument. The security guard just stood there, not saying a word, but watching them both like spectators at a tennis match.
“Beller still may be guilty in all this,” I said.
“Good point,” Frank replied. “We’d better call for backup.” Flipping open his phone, he called Chief Malrova and asked him to hurry to the ballroom. Then we walked back over to the not-so-happy couple, to make sure Beller would stay where he was.
Beller was now shouting to be heard over Bobo’s barks. “You promised me you’d leave her at home. Remember, I hired that veterinarian to take care of her because you didn’t want her staying with just any dog sitter?”
“Bobo can’t miss my wedding day,” said Ella. “I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you.�
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Beller shook his head angrily. “You’ve known everyone longer than you’ve known me. We just met two months ago.”
“That’s not the point,” said Ella.
“Look,” said Beller. “The plan was just to keep her away until tomorrow. That was it. I promise. After that, I’d figure something else out.”
“The plan?” Ella screamed. “There was a plan?”
“Operation Bobo,” I said. Everything started coming together. Turning to Beller, I asked, “So the phone call you made at the spa was to the dognapper?”
“What?!” Ella shrieked.
“There is no dognapper,” Beller insisted, turning quickly to Ella. “Will you relax?”
“No!” Ella shouted. “I won’t. Not until you explain yourself.”
Beller turned to the security guard. “The call was to you. Now, what went wrong?”
“The dog is vicious,” the guard said sheepishly. “She bit me. Broke the skin and everything. I realized I needed backup, but I wanted to make sure she was safe, so I stashed her in here. She was only supposed to be in the ballroom for a few minutes, but then suddenly there were police surrounding the place, and I figured I’d better scram. I came back to warn you, but you were still having the massage.”
“You’re fired!” Beller yelled at the guard. “You’ve ruined the entire wedding.”
“Don’t you dare fire him,” said Ella. “You’re the one who ruined the wedding. This is all your fault, Jake.”
Just then Chief Malrova showed up. “There you are,” he said, hurrying into the ballroom. “So I here there’s no bomb in Bobo?”
“She’s clean,” I said.
“We’re still not sure about Beller, though,” Frank added.
“Wait, what are you talking about? Why would there be a bomb in the dog?” asked Beller. “You don’t think that I’m the crazy person who’s been threatening to blow this place up?”
“You’re crazy enough to kidnap your fiancée’s dog,” I pointed out.
“That’s different,” said Beller. “She’s just a dog. Why would I blow up my own hotel?”
“You said Henry Peterson would pay. You said this would be his last auction ever, and now he’s dead!” I shouted.
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