The Case of the Missing Zucchini

by L. M. Falcone

  Max followed the sound of Larry’s voice and found him watching a sweet-faced lady placing bread pans out to cool on the deck.

  “Ask her what she’s baking,” said Larry.

  “Excuse me,” said Max. “Can I ask what you’re baking? It smells terrific.”

  The lady blushed and smiled. “It’s chocolate zucchini bread,” she said. “I’ve just baked five loaves. If you’d like to try some, I could spare a slice.”

  Max’s eyebrows went up at the mention of the word zucchini.

  I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S ZUCCHINI!

  Larry poked him. “Say yes! Yes!”

  “I’d love some — thanks,” said Max.

  The lady scooted back into her house. A minute later, the door swung open, and she stepped out balancing a plate on her outstretched hands. Both hands were still in the oven mitts.

  “I’m Edwena Whacker.”

  “Max Monroe.”

  Edwena held out the plate of chocolate zucchini bread slices. “Help yourself, Max.”

  Max took a slice, and then Edwena put the plate down on a small wooden table with a plant on it. When she turned her head, Larry swiped a slice and practically inhaled it.

  “Oh … oh … oh …” he moaned.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Max, without thinking. He was worried that Larry was in pain.

  “Wrong! Is something wrong?!” Edwena’s face clouded over.

  “This is the best bread I’ve ever tasted in my whole life!” raved Larry. “Tell her! Tell her!”

  Max quickly took a bite. “Um … no, nothing’s wrong. This is really, really good.”

  “I can’t believe it’s zucchini!” continued Larry.

  “Hard to believe it’s zucchini,” said Max.

  “I always liked zucchini, but I love this! I love it!” said Larry.

  Max took another bite. It did taste great.

  “Tell her! Tell her!” insisted Larry.

  Max swallowed quickly. “It’s really delicious, Ms. Whacker.”

  Edwena put both mitt-covered hands against her cheeks and grinned so wide her eyes disappeared. “Thank you. Thank you so much! It means a lot to me to hear you say that. A big bakery that sells to all the grocery stores is sending over three tasters this afternoon. If they like my zucchini bread, they’ll give me a contract and a huge order. I really need that contract, but I’ve been worried sick my recipe won’t be good enough.”

  Larry snuck another piece off the plate. “Good enough? It’s great!”

  “I think you have a winning recipe,” said Max. “Those tasters will love this.”

  Edwena grabbed Max and gave him a bear hug. “You’ve made me so happy I could cry!” And then she did.

  Max and Larry looked at each other.

  IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOUR HANDS?

  “Max, would you be kind enough to take a tissue out of my pocket?” asked Edwena.

  “Um … sure.” Max reached into Edwena’s apron pocket and pulled out a tissue. Without taking off her oven mitts, Edwena took it and patted her eyes.

  “Is something wrong with your hands?” asked Max.

  “When I get nervous, I break out in hives.” Edwena patted her eyes some more. “I put lotion on my hands this morning, and then put on these oven mitts. I don’t want the tasters to see hives when they’re tasting my zucchini bread. It might turn them off.”

  “I’m sure nothing will turn them off when they taste this,” said Max.

  “You’re too kind.” Edwena blew her nose loudly.

  “I hear there was a parade in town yesterday,” said Max. “Were you able to go to it?”

  “Usually I go with my neighbors Zeeta and Zelda,” said Edwena, “but it just wasn’t possible this year. I was much too busy baking and testing out different recipes. I had to get it just right. I really need that contract.”

  A loud horn made Max jump. A small moving truck drove up to the side door, and two large men stepped out. Edwena smiled. “Oh, wonderful!” she said. “My oven has arrived.”

  “How do you bake without an oven?” asked Larry.

  “You don’t have an oven?” asked Max.

  “Yes, I do, of course. But I’m going to need more than one if I get that contract. And since this one was on sale, I took a chance and grabbed it.”

  The two men walked up to Max and Edwena.

  “Max, these are my brothers, Eddy and Neddy. They’re a great help whenever I need anything big moved.”

  Max shook hands with Eddy and Neddy. Then he told Edwena he had to get going. He thanked her for the zucchini bread and wished her good luck with the tasters.

  When they were out of Edwena’s sight, Max said, “Suspect number three.”

  Larry’s face fell. “You can’t believe Edwena stole the zucchini! Why, she’s sweeter than honey!”

  “I know, Uncle Larry, but she’s desperate to get that contract from the bakery. And you heard her — if she does get the contract, she’s going to need a heck of a lot of zucchini to fill it.”

  Larry’s shoulders sagged.

  “And —” said Max.

  “There’s more?”

  “Maybe those oven mitts Edwena’s wearing aren’t covering hives. Maybe they’re covering a different kind of rash — like poison ivy? If she’s the one who stole the zucchini, she might have touched the poison ivy when she was near the Zucchini Sisters’ fence.”

  “No, no, no. They’re hives. I’m sure of it.”

  “And —”

  Larry covered his ears. “La la la la la,” he sang. “I can’t hear you. La la la.”

  Max shook his head, opened his notebook and wrote …

  Suspect #3 — Edwena Whacker

  Motive — Needs bakery contract

  CHAPTER 8

  I DON’T LEAVE FINGERPRINTS

  When Max and Larry got to the Zucchini Sisters’ house, they walked along the stone path that led to the side gate. Larry reached out to press the latch.

  “Don’t!” said Max.

  Larry yanked his hand away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Fingerprints.”

  “I don’t leave fingerprints.”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot,” said Max. “But other people do.” He leaned in to inspect the metal latch. “This latch has a smooth surface.”

  Larry leaned in, too. “That’s true. And a smooth surface means …?”

  “It means that the oil from a person’s fingertips will leave a print behind.”

  “Correcto!” Larry grinned. “Let’s go buy some fingerprint powder.”

  “I think we can improvise,” said Max. “Back in a minute.”

  WHAT DO YOU SEE, MAX?

  Max knocked on the front door. When Zeeta and Zelda answered, he asked if they had baking powder, a soft-bristled brush and transparent tape. The sisters found the items and handed them over to Max.

  Back at the gate, Max dipped the paintbrush into the baking powder and lightly ran the bristles over the latch in short, quick strokes. Then he tore off some pieces of clear tape and pressed the sticky strips onto the metal. After carefully lifting each piece, he held them up to the sun and inspected them.

  Larry looked excited. “What do you see, Max?”

  “It’s what I don’t see, Uncle Larry.”

  “Huh?”

  “There’s not one single print.”

  “Maybe it’s not the only way in?” suggested Larry.

  “That’s possible,” said Max. “Or, maybe they wore gloves.”

  Max unlocked the gate and swung it open.

  HE FLUNG A COW!

  Once inside the Zucchini Sisters’ backyard, Max scanned the surroundings. A chain-link fence went all around the property.

  “I can’t see any way someone could have gotten into this yard except through the
gate,” said Max.

  “Unless they climbed over?”

  “It’s possible they could have climbed over to get in. But there’s no way they could have climbed back out carrying a two-hundred-pound zucchini.”

  “They might have had a catapult and flung it over! In one of the Starchy comics, he flung a cow!”

  Max’s forehead furled. “Let’s keep thinking. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Max and Larry went farther into the large yard and headed toward the garden. As they walked along the grass, Max looked carefully at the ground.

  “Looking for footprints?” asked his uncle.

  “There could be some, but they’re too hard to see on the grass.”

  DO YOU THINK THEY COULD MEAN SOMETHING?

  “Wait a second,” said Max, stopping and crouching down.

  He started crawling along the ground in a straight line, pushing apart the blades of grass as he went. “Look, Uncle Larry.”

  “Look at what, Max?”

  “These holes.”

  Larry crouched down. “They’re awfully small. Do you think they could mean something?”

  Max frowned at his uncle. “Of course they could mean something.”

  Larry’s eyes brightened, and he stood up. “Of course!” He leaned in closer to Max. “What do you think they could mean?”

  Max stood up and focused on the grass. He measured the distance between the holes by putting one foot directly in front of the other, heel to toe. He counted, “One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. They’re all the same distance apart, Uncle Larry.”

  A POGO STICK!

  Larry scratched his head. “What could make holes in the ground in such a straight line?” He moved along the grass from hole to hole. Then he swung around. “I’ve got it! A pogo stick!”

  “Who would come into the yard on a pogo stick, Uncle Larry?”

  “Someone from the parade?”

  “The parade was downtown.”

  “You can move pretty fast on a — AHHHHH!!!!!!” Larry screamed and jumped back. Then he spun around and raced across the yard.

  “Where are you going?!”

  “A snake! A snake!”

  A garter snake slithered after Larry. “AHHHHH! AHHHHH! AHHHHH!”

  Both Larry and the snake made a circle around the yard, Larry waving his arms high in the air and shrieking. It was a good thing nobody but Max could hear him. Finally, Larry stopped running and shot up to the roof of the Zucchini Sisters’ house.

  The snake made a left turn and disappeared under the fence.

  “It’s gone, Uncle Larry!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Larry floated down to the patio, then sat on a deck chair. “I think I’ll stay here awhile. You go ahead, Max.”

  Max made his way to the vegetable garden.

  In the spot where the giant zucchini had grown, there was a huge indentation in the soil. Max noticed some outdoor speakers that the Puccini music must have come out of. He also noticed that the huge zucchini leaves were bent to the left. He remembered thinking Mr. Leonard was exaggerating when he said that just yesterday they had been ten feet tall. Now he could see that they probably would be ten feet tall if they weren’t leaning over. He scanned the rest of the garden and noticed something interesting: the plants that were growing around the zucchini were bent over, too — in the same direction.

  Max moved closer and bent down to examine the plants more carefully. Someone — or something — had pushed them down.

  Max stood up.

  He looked out over the yard, taking in the large indentation the zucchini had left; the giant, bent-over zucchini leaves; the bent-over plants and the tiny holes in the grass. And just then, he noticed the poison ivy that had grown through the fence from Mr. Leonard’s garden.

  “I know who stole the zucchini,” he said to himself.

  CHAPTER 9

  MAX SOLVES THE CASE

  Max needed all the suspects in one place, so he asked the Zucchini Sisters to invite Mr. Leonard, Mr. Jordan and Edwena Whacker to join them in their garden for lemonade. When everyone had arrived, Larry looked around carefully to make sure there were no snakes, and then joined the group.

  The sisters poured glasses of lemonade and handed them out, then mentioned that Max was helping them find their stolen zucchini.

  Edwena looked surprised. “Your zucchini was stolen?”

  Zeeta and Zelda nodded gravely. “The one we were entering in the Harvest Fair.”

  “After all your hard work! How dreadful. Who would do such a thing?”

  “One of these guys,” said Larry, jerking his thumb at Mr. Jordan and Mr. Leonard.

  “We don’t know,” said Zeeta. “That’s why Max is here. He’s a very smart young detective.”

  “Go on, Max,” said Zelda. “Tell us what you’ve discovered.”

  “I’ve examined all the clues,” said Max, “and I know who stole the zucchini.”

  Mr. Leonard, Edwena and Mr. Jordan eyeballed each other.

  Max walked to the vegetable garden, where the zucchini had been lying. “The stolen zucchini grew here and weighed about two hundred pounds. A zucchini that size would be way too big and too heavy for one person to carry alone.”

  Larry’s eyes brightened. “Whoever took it had an accomplice!” He moved closer to Max. “I’ll bet Jordan and Fur Hat were working together!”

  SHE’S WEARING OVEN MITTS!

  Max stepped out of the garden. “Other than through the back door of the house, there’s only one way into this yard, and that’s through the side gate. I checked, and there aren’t any fingerprints on the gate latch. That could mean the person who stole the zucchini wore gloves—”

  “She’s wearing oven mitts!” said Mr. Leonard, pointing at Edwena.

  Everyone turned to look at Edwena.

  “I’ve broken out in hives!” Edwena cried. “When I get nervous, I break out! Tell them, Zelda!”

  “It’s true,” said Zelda. “Edwena’s always borrowing calamine lotion to put on her hands, her face, her feet — wherever she happens to break out. She is always running out of it.”

  “Edwena was on my list of suspects because it would take an awful lot of zucchini to fill an order as big as she is expecting from the bakery contract. She told me herself that she didn’t go to the parade. And with two brothers as strong as hers, there’s no question she could have stolen the zucchini while Zeeta and Zelda were in town. But she didn’t do it.”

  “I knew it wasn’t her,” Larry said smugly.

  Max turned to face Mr. Leonard. “Mr. Leonard, you had good reason to want to get back at the sisters for ruining your tomato crop. The leaves from their zucchini blocked the sun, so your vegetables weren’t given a chance to grow. But there’s no evidence that you had anything to do with it, either.”

  Zeeta and Zelda looked shocked and sorry. “Oh, Mr. Leonard,” said Zelda. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  Mr. Leonard shrugged.

  Max turned to Mr. Jordan.

  MAY I BORROW YOUR CANE?

  “Mr. Jordan, I was told you always put gloves on before touching anything.”

  “It’s not a secret. Everyone knows how I feel about germs. I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “The reason I mention it,” said Max, “is that if you opened the gate with your gloves on, there would be no fingerprints.”

  Mr. Jordan sniffed. “And what does that prove?”

  “Nothing — on its own.”

  Max bent down and pointed to the grass. “If you look carefully, you’ll notice a straight row of small holes leading directly from the gate over to the zucchini.” Max looked at Mr. Jordan again. “May I borrow your cane, please?”

  Mr. Jordan cleared his th
roat and slowly handed over his cane. Max placed the bottom of the cane directly into one of the holes.

  Zeeta and Zelda gasped.

  “A perfect fit!” said Mr. Leonard.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Mr. Jordan. He yanked his cane out of Max’s hand. “If you think I could lift a zucchini that size, you’re all insane.”

  WHAT AM I, CHOPPED LIVER?

  “That’s a good point,” said Max. “But there’s more.” Mr. Jordan frowned deeply. “All the plants around the zucchini are bent over.”

  Everyone’s eyes went over to the plants.

  “A strong wind or hard rain could have bent them —” said Max.

  “But it’s been sunny all week,” said Zelda.

  “You’re right. It wasn’t the weather that bent them over. It was something else that created the strong wind.”

  “Whatever could it be?” asked Zeeta.

  Max looked directly at Mr. Jordan. “Twirling helicopter blades.”

  Larry let out a whistle. “That’s brilliant, Max!”

  “It’s common knowledge that helicopters airlift people and animals and other large things with ropes and harnesses. You had your pilot fly over the sisters’ backyard and lower a rope. Then you fastened the harness around the zucchini and off it went.”

  Everyone stared at Mr. Jordan. The sisters looked stunned.

  “I never would have guessed it could be you,” said Zeeta.

  Mr. Jordan’s face turned hard. “I’m calling my lawyer.” He spun around and limped out of the yard.

  “Don’t let the gate hit you on your way out,” said Zelda, smiling sweetly. Then she threw her arms around Max. “You did it, Max!”

  Zeeta stepped up and threw her arms around both of them.

  “Hey!” said Larry, sulking. “What am I, chopped liver?”