Return to Black Bear Mountain

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Oh, hey, guys. Weird running into you here, huh?” Gonzo called down casually.

  “I can say from experience that it’s weird running into you anywhere,” I told him. “But, yeah, dangling from a church steeple has gotta take the weirdness cake.”

  “Out of state on a private charter for a few weeks, huh?” Joe asked.

  “Just got back an hour ago, would you believe it?” Gonzo replied, making a go figure gesture with his hands.

  “No. No, we wouldn’t,” I said.

  “Because an hour ago you were waiting to rendezvous with Cherry Fritwell so you could fly away with the garnets she stole before anyone knew you were back in town,” Joe said.

  “And a few hours before that, you chased us through the secret cave under Aleksei’s cabin,” I added.

  “And a day before that, the tree you rigged by the beaver pond to buy yourself more time to find the garnets almost took out our ATVs,” Joe continued.

  “And a week before that, you ransacked Dr. Kroopnik’s research station,” I concluded.

  “Who, me?” Gonzo asked, laughing uncomfortably. “Where in the world did you get that wacky idea?”

  I glared up at him. “You mean besides the fact that we just saw you leave Cherry on Black Bear right after she shot at us, tied us up, and stole the garnets, and then flew your plane into a wildfire to try to get away from us when we chased you?”

  “Yeah, besides that,” he insisted, as if all the evidence we’d just laid out for him was somehow inclusive.

  “Your cologne,” Joe informed him. “Eau de Skunk. We can smell you from down here.”

  “Just like we smelled you in the cave,” I said.

  “And smelled the skunk that sprayed you in Dr. Kroopnik’s research station,” Joe said.

  “Your denial stinks as much as you do,” I said.

  He took a curious sniff of his own shirt. “Ya know, the smell grows on you after a while. I kinda like it.”

  “Hand over the garnets, Gonzo,” I demanded.

  “What garnets?” he asked with what was supposed to pass for a confused look.

  Joe and I both sighed. He was as stubborn as he was quirky.

  “We caught you neon-pink-handed, Gonzo,” Joe said. “Lying about it isn’t going to do you any good when the cops cut you down and find them on you anyway.”

  “Your plane isn’t the only thing going down for this, and the authorities will go a lot easier on you if you cooperate,” I said.

  Now it was Gonzo’s turn to sigh, only his sounded like resignation. “I told them we should have called it off when Cherry radioed to tell me you boys were coming. She figured we weren’t going to get a better chance to search the mountain with the rangers and troopers all tied up fighting the fire.”

  “Talk about an effective diversion,” I said. “The fire’s the reason they couldn’t send anyone to check on Dr. K when we called from Bayport. Jones and Amina couldn’t even get through to report the trap you set for us at the beaver dam.”

  “Oh, Cherry’s aces at planning a heist. She’d been reading Kroopnik’s mail at the post office before sending it out for months too. Reading his letters is how she figured out the rumors about the garnets still being hidden up there were true. Then she tried to create a rift between the friends and stopped sending his letters. That way, she figured Aleksei would blame Kroopnik when the garnets disappeared.”

  “Funny, it’s exactly because Aleksei expected a letter and didn’t get one that he wrote to us and asked us to investigate,” I said. “Cherry’s scheming to avoid suspicion is actually what put us on the case.”

  “I told her you boys were good. Shoulda trusted my instincts after seeing how you foiled the last dupes who tried stealing these things.”

  Gonzo pulled the plastic bag with the demantoids from the breast pocket of his Hawaiian shirt and gave the gems a last wistful look. “Shine on, you sparkly garnets. Wish I coulda gotten to know ya better.”

  He tossed the bag down to us and gave it a sad wave as it fell to the ground. Sunlight caught the gems when I lifted the bag, sending a rainbow of prismatic sparkles dancing over us. They were just as beautiful every time I saw them.

  I looked back up at Gonzo. I still couldn’t help liking the kooky guy, even after everything he had pulled.

  “We saw how you steered the plane away from town to keep anyone else from getting hurt in the crash. We’ll make sure to let the authorities know your actions helped avoid more casualties, in case it makes a difference.”

  Gonzo grinned. “Was some pretty fancy flying, if I do say so myself. One-winged birds don’t like to fly where you tell them.” The grin disappeared as he bit down on his lip. “Never did mean for anyone to get hurt. Just wanted some adventure and a little extra money in my pocket is all.”

  “You’re kind of forgetting the part where you tried to kill us with a tree,” Joe reminded him.

  “That was Cherry’s idea for me to hike back down and do that. I figured it would just scare you a bit and slow you down. Didn’t think it would actually hurt you.”

  I looked at the plume of smoke rising from the hill where Gonzo’s plane had crashed. “Gonzo, has anyone ever told you that you have really questionable judgment?”

  “Sure! My CO in the air force used to tell me that all the time! That was a pretty impressive wipeout, though, wasn’t it? I haven’t crashed in years. Forgot how much I enjoy it!”

  Gonzo looked genuinely enthusiastic even though he was about to go to jail for criminal conspiracy, assault, and grand larceny, to name just a few of the charges he’d racked up. You had to hand it to the guy for finding the silver lining.

  “This caper was nothing personal against Kroopnik or that gangster guy, Orlov. Heck, I admire the big fellow for pulling that wild hermit stunt and living up there all those years. Now there’s a man who knew how to crash a plane!” Gonzo gave the air a little salute. “Nah, I just signed on for the payday. It was them who had the grudge.”

  “Them?” I asked. We’d been so caught up in questioning Gonzo, we’d forgotten about the possibility of him and Cherry having more accomplices.

  “Yeah, Cherry and him.” He gestured across the street toward the general store and waved. “Hey, Ken!”

  We turned to see Ken Fritwell parked out front in a beat-up old pickup truck, frantically trying to get the engine to turn over. He looked up at the sound of Gonzo calling his name. The look on his face when he saw us is best described by one word: “panic.”

  19 CHERRY BOMB

  JOE

  DON’T GO ANYWHERE,” I CALLED up to Gonzo as Frank and I sprinted across the street toward Ken Fritwell’s stalled pickup truck.

  “Take your time, boys,” Gonzo called back. “I’ll just hang out here.”

  We were halfway across the street when Ken gave up trying to start the pickup and flung open the door to run. Unfortunately for him, he was still wearing his seat belt.

  “Oomph!” he grunted as the seat belt jerked him back into place.

  I kicked the driver’s-side door closed to make sure he didn’t get a second chance.

  “Going somewhere, Ken?” I asked through the open window as Frank leaped over the hood to stand guard at the passenger-side door.

  He gave a dismayed look from Frank to me to Gonzo dangling from the church behind me, then opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before answering. “I—I want to talk to my lawyer.”

  The two-way radio lying on the seat next to him crackled to life.

  “Where are you, Ken?” Cherry’s angry, undisguised voice shouted from the receiver.

  Ken tried to grab it, but Frank was quicker, reaching through the window to snatch it off the seat.

  “Ken?” Cherry’s voice continued to shout. “Did you get the go bags and our cash from the safe? I’m hiking down to the van. You’d better be waiting when Ricky and I get there. I’m not going to jail because you took your sweet time packing.”

  “Hiya, Cherry,” Frank s
aid cheerily into the two-way. “I think Ken is going to be a little late.”

  There was a loud burst of static and unintelligible yelling. It did not sound happy.

  Frank hit the talk button again. “I’m guessing he radioed to tell you about Gonzo’s church visit? Did he mention that we got back the garnets you stole too?”

  “I didn’t steal anything! Those are ours!” she screamed over the radio.

  I came around to the other side of the truck and took the two-way from Frank. “Actually, they’re Aleksei Orlov’s, and we plan on returning them to him,” I said. That didn’t make Cherry too happy.

  “Orlov’s a thieving con. He just stole them from someone else anyway. We have just as much right to those gems as he does. More! These are our mountains! We’ve been here our whole lives. That imposter was squatting in our backyard, running around scaring people. Scaring away business. Any stolen loot that criminal left behind should be ours!”

  We’d known Cherry was bitter about Aleksei hiding out in the woods perpetuating the old Wild Man legend. I just hadn’t realized how bitter. She also happened to have her facts mixed up.

  “You’re wrong, Cherry,” Frank corrected her. “Aleksei is the first person to admit he stole money from people years ago in his mobster days, and he’s paying the legal price for those crimes in prison now. But he brought those demantoid garnets with him all the way from his childhood home in Siberia. They’re rightfully his, and he’s been donating the proceeds from selling them to charity to help make up for what he did wrong.”

  “I didn’t see him offering to pay us back for all the tourism business his cannibal act cost us,” she snapped. “No way some thieving outsider should be living rich in our backyard while us locals are struggling to keep our lights on.”

  Truth was, she kind of had a point. Not about living rich, but I don’t think we or Aleksei had thought enough about how his actions had impacted the local community. I also knew Aleksei well enough to know it was something he would take responsibility for and want to make right when he got out and returned to Black Bear Mountain. There were ways to right a wrong, and Cherry’s wasn’t one of them.

  “Turning around and hurting other people doesn’t make you any less of a criminal than you’re accusing Aleksei of being. Dr. Kroopnik, Jones, Frank, and I all could have been seriously injured, or worse.”

  “The best thing you can do now to help your case is cooperate and bring yourself in,” Frank said into the two-way.

  Cherry’s voice was just as angry as before. “These are our mountains, and you’re all trespassers as far as I’m concerned. Especially Kroopnik. He knew for years that mobster was living there, and he helped him. He had it coming to him.”

  I looked at Frank and shook my head. Cherry’s greed and anger had blinded her to reason. We weren’t going to be able to talk sense into her no matter how hard we tried.

  “We’ve got all the evidence we need already, Cherry,” I said into the two-way. “We’ll let the police finish this discussion when they pick you up.”

  The radio went silent. Cherry was gone.

  “My Cherry can have a bit of a temper,” Ken said meekly, volunteering to speak for the first time.

  “You think?” I asked.

  “Sure, she can get a little carried away sometimes, but you don’t know what it’s been like for us. I can’t say whether it’s your friend Orlov’s fault, but this town’s been struggling for a long time. Sure, business has picked up since all the press his story got last time you were here. We might even be doing okay if it weren’t for all the debt we racked up trying to keep the store open during the lean years. Heck, I can’t even afford to get a pickup that starts when you turn the key.” Ken gave a forlorn laugh.

  “This store has been in my family since Last Chance was built. I didn’t want to lose it. So when Cherry suggested we go find the garnets for ourselves, it seemed like a reasonable idea. One of these so-called treasure hunters who’ve been running around might have found them if we hadn’t anyway. Why shouldn’t it be us? I didn’t want some weekend warrior from the city getting rich off our mountains while we sat back and watched.”

  “You weren’t just trying to find some random lost treasure, you were trying to take it away from the people who rightfully had it,” Frank said. “Max Kroopnik isn’t a weekend warrior from the city. He lives here, and he’s your customer.”

  “At least he was your customer,” I pointed out. “I don’t think he’ll be giving you much business after this.”

  Ken looked guiltily down at his lap. “Cherry didn’t mean it about Max deserving it. We didn’t want anyone to get hurt. We were just going to spy on Max and get him to lead us to the gems. And then when we found out you were coming, we figured we’d just try to scare you away and buy some more time.”

  “By crushing us with a tree?” I asked.

  Ken winced. “I didn’t know about that until after. Cherry told Gonzo to slow you down, and well, the Commander’s ideas tend to be a little more enthusiastic than well thought out.”

  “Yeah, we kinda noticed that,” Frank said. Gonzo was the same guy who’d thought it was a good idea to fly blindly into a cloud of wildfire smoke at low altitude.

  We looked back up across the street at Ken’s accomplice, who seemed to be dangling contentedly from the steeple, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

  “All I did was stick some honey in one of your packs when I put them in the van,” Ken confessed. “That’s not so bad, right? Just a harmless little prank.”

  I think I actually growled. All that lost gear had been a royal pain in our everywhere.

  “There’s a very well-supplied bear that owes you a thank-you note,” Frank said.

  “I’m sorry if we caused any harm.” Ken stared up at the painted sign above his store. “This was our chance to score big and really get the store back on its feet. This was the last chance for Last Chance General.”

  “I’m sorry about your store, Ken,” I said, genuinely meaning it. “This just wasn’t the way to save it.”

  “I’m sorry about this, too,” Frank said, reaching down and picking a length of cord off the messy truck floor. “But we’re going to have to restrain you until the police get here.”

  Ken nodded sadly and let us tie his hands to the steering wheel. We were careful to make sure the cord wasn’t too tight.

  I hadn’t noticed until we’d run across the street to Ken’s pickup truck, but we had attracted a crowd. A man jumping out of a fiery plane onto the church roof and a helicopter landing on Main Street will do that.

  The excitement wasn’t over, either. A larger, bright red helicopter with the words SEARCH AND RESCUE emblazoned on the doors swept over town and landed in the street.

  A woman in a matching red jumpsuit leaped out of the cockpit. “We got the ‘plane down’ call. Is anyone hurt?”

  “Everyone’s okay!” Frank called out.

  “Even him?” she asked, pointing up at Gonzo, who waved.

  “Even him,” I said. “Fly boy and his accomplice in the pickup can skip the hospital and go straight to jail.”

  “Are these the ones responsible for assaulting the folks in that other rescue call we got on Black Bear Mountain?” she asked.

  “That’s them,” I confirmed. “They’ve got an armed accomplice named Cherry Fritwell who is fleeing the mountain on foot now if you want to call it in to the police.”

  “Frank!” a familiar friendly voice called from the open helicopter doors.

  “Jones!” Frank cried.

  She jumped down from the helicopter and ran over to hug Frank and me. “I’m so glad you guys are okay. We were in the search-and-rescue chopper on our way to the hospital when they got the call about an aircraft going down. Max and I were scared something had happened to you.”

  “Something did,” said Frank, smiling. “We caught the rest of the bad guys.”

  “It looks like the church caught that one,” Jones said, looking up at Gon
zo. “That’s the charter pilot from the poster at the general store.”

  “Aka Stinky,” I said. “Cherry and Ken recruited him.”

  “So it was the three of them?” Jones asked.

  “Four if you count Ricky,” Frank said. “Do you think they put raccoons in jail?”

  “If there’s ever a raccoon that deserves it, it’s him,” I declared.

  “How is Dr. Kroopnik holding up?” asked Frank.

  “Good enough that we were able to talk the pilot into putting off the hospital and diverting the chopper to help here instead,” Jones replied.

  “Good thing you did, because we’ve got something to return to him,” Frank said, patting his pocket.

  Dr. Kroopnik waved eagerly from the back of the search-and-rescue chopper as we headed over. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you boys are still complete specimens.”

  “You’ll be even happier when you see what we brought you,” I said.

  Frank pulled the bag with the dazzling green garnets from his pocket and handed them to Dr. Kroopnik.

  “This time, these beauties are going straight into my safe-deposit box until Aleksei gets back,” he said, studying the gems as if for the first time. “Next time you all come to visit, let’s try to keep the outdoor activities to hiking and camping. I think I’ve had enough of the assault, kidnapping, and jewel theft!”

  Frank held out his hand so they could shake on it. “Deal!”

  “You found them!” a voice shouted from the crowd of onlookers as Dr. Kroopnik temporarily returned the garnets to his own pocket. When I turned around, I saw a tall, buff guy with a camouflage military jacket and a buzz cut. The description clicked right away. It did for Frank, too.

  “John Smith,” he said.

  “Hey, how’d you know my name?” the man asked. His hand went reflexively to the chain around his neck, and I could see that he was wearing military-issue dog tags. The surprise on his face looked genuine.

  “Huh, so John Smith actually is your real name,” I surmised. “We had it pegged as an alias.”

  “Of course it’s my real name,” he barked, holding up the dog tags for us to see. “What’s going on here? How do you know who I am?”