Chris was watching TV. He had a bowl of Puff and Pops on the rug.
He was leaning over it.
Drops of milk were all over the rug.
“Daddy’s going to kill you,” Dawn told him.
“Get lost, pinhead,” he said. He took a huge spoonful of cereal.
Then he looked at her.
He started to laugh.
Puff and Pops flew all over the place.
“That hat,” he said. He slapped his leg.
Dawn stepped over him. “It’s my detective hat.”
“It must be a size one hundred,” he said.
She went into the kitchen.
Her father was standing at the sink. He was eating an orange.
“Where’s Mommy?” Dawn asked.
“She’s still asleep,” he said, “She worked hard all week. Noni, too.”
“How do you like my hat?” Dawn asked. She pushed it up.
Her father looked as if he were going to laugh. “It’s fine,” he said. “I see it has a private eye on the front.”
Dawn nodded. “I don’t know why.”
“People call detectives private eyes,” he said.
“They do?”
“Detectives watch,” said her father. “They see things. Then they can solve crimes.”
He tossed her an orange.
She missed.
It rolled on the floor.
“Sorry,” her father said.
“It’s all right.” She picked up the orange. “I’m not a great catcher.” She peeled it. She popped a piece into her mouth.
Her father poured her a bowl of Puff and Pops. “You’re a great detective.”
“Right.” She started to eat as fast as she could.
“Slow down,” her father said.
She chewed a little slower.
“I wanted to be a detective,” her father said. He looked up at the ceiling. “I was seven years old.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He laughed. “I never could find a crime to solve.”
Dawn looked at her cereal.
She wanted to tell about the ring.
She picked up her spoon.
She couldn’t, though. Then she’d have to tell about the unicorn.
Her father would find out she had taken it.
He’d feel sad.
She’d better not tell him.
She took the last Puff and Pop.
“I’m going out,” she said.
“Me, too,” said her father.
“I think I’ll rake.”
“I’m going to take my detective box,” she said. “It has lots of good stuff.”
“I hope you find a crime to solve,” he said.
Dawn went back to her bedroom for the box.
It was heavy.
She lugged it downstairs.
Chris started to laugh again.
“Bean nose,” she told him.
She went out the door.
She’d go to school.
She’d look all over the place.
She’d solve the crime—one, two, three.
Dawn the detective.
Dawn the private eye.
She went down the street.
It was a good thing it was Saturday. She didn’t want to see anybody.
They’d stare at her. They’d say she had taken the ring.
She put the detective box down.
It was heavy.
She blew on her fingers. She pushed her hat out of her eyes.
Then she saw somebody.
Jason Bazyk.
At least, it looked like Jason. Same brown hair. Same ears.
He bumped into a tree.
Yes. That was Jason.
He was carrying a brown paper bag.
Dawn grabbed her box. She ducked behind Mrs. Moley’s itchy ball tree.
She tried to make herself skinny and small.
She’d have to wait until Jason went away.
She hoped he’d hurry up.
CHAPTER 6
DAWN PEEKED OUT at Jason.
He was looking all around.
He hid behind a mailbox.
Then he ran to Mrs. Nelson’s tree.
Dawn took deep breath. She ran behind the stop sign. She peeked again.
What was Jason doing?
He must be crazy.
He dashed across the street and went in the school-yard gate.
Too bad. She’d have to sit here and wait.
That could be all day.
Snaggle doodles. That’s what Emily Arrow always said.
Double snaggle doodles.
Dawn sat down on a pile of leaves.
She opened her box.
She threw some of the stuff on the ground. She looked until she found what she wanted.
A pair of fake eyeglasses.
She put them on.
Then she pushed her hair up under her hat.
What next?
She could put on the fake furry brown moustache.
No good.
Jason would know a kid wouldn’t have a moustache.
Too bad she wasn’t tall.
She tore the moustache in two pieces.
She stuck them on her eyebrows.
She looked in the mirror inside the box.
Great.
She looked like an ugly old man.
A very little ugly old man.
She put everything back in the box. She went into the school yard.
She took little hopping steps. Jason would never know who she was.
Jason didn’t even see her.
He walked around to the front door. He tripped up the step.
Dawn watched him.
He dusted off his jeans.
He tried to open the door.
It was locked.
Dawn ducked behind the swings.
Jason tried the back door next.
It pulled open.
He looked around. Then he rushed inside.
Dawn sat down on the swing to think. She gave herself a little push.
Why was Jason sneaking around?
Why was he going to school on a Saturday?
And why was he carrying a brown paper bag in his hand?
Maybe he had taken Emily’s ring.
Maybe he was going to take something else.
She had to find out.
She hopped over to the back door.
It took a long time, but Jason might be looking out the window.
Slowly Dawn opened the door.
No one was in the hall.
She listened. She couldn’t even hear Jason’s footsteps.
She tiptoed down the hall.
It was hard to be quiet with her boots on.
Next time she’d wear her jelly sandals.
She sat on the floor and pulled one boot off.
Then she pulled off the other one.
Where could she hide them?
If Jim the cleaning man came along, he’d throw them in the Dumpster.
Jim liked a clean school.
She’d have to go upstairs. She’d put them in the classroom.
She started to stand up.
Then she heard a noise.
A slithering noise.
A whooshing sound.
Something dropped over her head.
She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe.
She opened her mouth wide.
She couldn’t even scream.
CHAPTER 7
“GOTCHA!” SOMEONE YELLED.
Dawn reached up. She pulled at the thing on her head.
It was ripping.
Crackling.
What was it?
“Thief!” the voice yelled.
“Help!” Dawn screamed.
She tore at the thing.
It came off in her hand.
A paper bag. Jason’s paper bag.
And there was Jason. “Thief!” he yelled again.
Then his mouth opened. He looked at her. “Daw
n Bosco?”
Dawn took off her glasses. She put them in her pocket. Then she began to pull on her boots. “I’m getting out of here,” she said. “You’re crazy, Jason Bazyk.”
“Dawn Bosco,” he said again.
“You were trying to kill me.”
“Dawn Bosco,” he said for the third time.
Dawn pulled on her other boot. “Don’t keep saying that.”
“I thought someone was following me,” he said in a loud voice. “A little old man in a huge polka dot hat. With eyeglasses. With eyebrows.”
Dawn put her hand up to her face.
“Only one eyebrow now,” Jason said. “It’s stuck on your forehead.”
He sat down on the floor. “Whew. I’m glad it’s you.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Sneaking around.”
“I’m going to be a detective when I grow up.”
“Hey,” said Dawn. “Me, too. Or a school crossing guard.”
“I’m trying to find something out,” Jason said. He stood up. “Who took Emily Arrow’s ring?”
“That’s why I’m here,” said Dawn. “It wasn’t me.”
“I didn’t think so,” said Jason. “Let’s go.”
“I’m ready. Where?”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“To the art room closet. Of course. That’s where it started.”
“Wait a minute,” Jason said. He turned his head. “Did you hear a noise?”
“Lots of noise,” Dawn said. “You talk loud. You walk loud, too.”
“That’s what my mother says,” Jason said. “I hear another noise, too.”
“It’s Jim,” said Dawn. “He’s cleaning.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be here.” Jason looked worried.
“Jim won’t mind. We can ask him about the ring. Maybe he found it last night.”
They started down the hall.
Dawn stopped to look out the window. “I think it’s going to rain.”
“I’m supposed to be home when it rains,” said Jason.
“Don’t worry. We have time,” Dawn said. She took a breath. “Uh-oh.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Do you still hear that noise?”
“You mean Jim?” asked Jason. “Sure I do.”
Dawn pointed. “Jim’s outside. He’s raking leaves.”
Jason looked down the hall. “Someone’s there,” he said.
“Maybe a teacher,” Dawn said. “Maybe someone forgot his homework.”
“We could go home,” Jason said. “It’s going to rain anyway.”
“Let’s see who it is,” Dawn said. She started down the hall. “We’ll take a peek.”
She looked at her boots again. “I have to take them off,” she whispered. “They make too much noise.”
She slipped them off quickly.
She left them in the hall.
“I think someone’s in the music room,” Jason said.
“Or the art room,” said Dawn.
Jason went to the music room. He banged open the door.
“Shh,” Dawn said. “The whole world can hear you.”
She went to the art room.
The door was open.
She put her head around it.
Someone was standing next to the window.
It was Jill Simon. She was holding Beast’s clay string bean.
“Hey!” Dawn said.
Jill was wearing a ring. A gold ring. It had a blue stone.
“Hey,” Dawn yelled again.
Jill’s mouth opened. She started to screech.
She ran past Dawn. She raced out the door.
Halfway down the hall, she took a huge hop.
She sailed over Dawn’s boots.
A moment later she was gone.
Jason came out of the music room. “Who was screaming?” he asked. He fell over Dawn’s boots. “Wasn’t that Jill Simon?” He rubbed his knee.
“Wearing Emily Arrow’s ring,” said Dawn.
“Jill Simon?” Jason said.
“A thief,” said Dawn.
“Jill Simon,” Jason said again. “I can’t believe it.”
“Stop saying that,” Dawn said. “Let’s go. We have to catch her.”
CHAPTER 8
OUTSIDE IT WAS pouring rain.
Big drops bounced off the sidewalk.
Dawn and Jason stood at the open door.
Jill was nowhere in sight.
“I think I’d better go home,” Jason said.
“Not me,” said Dawn. “Carmen stays out in the rain. Policemen stay out in the rain. The mailman walks around in the rain, too.”
“You’re right,” said Jason.
He ran back down the hall.
He grabbed the torn paper bag. “I’ll stick this over my head.”
“And I’ve got my hat,” said Dawn. She pushed it out of her eyes.
They ran out of the school yard. They crossed the street and turned the corner.
“There she is,” Dawn said.
“Stop, thief!” Jason yelled.
Jill didn’t look back. She hopped over a puddle.
“Faster!” yelled Dawn.
“My paper bag is wet!” Jason yelled. He pulled it off his head.
Dawn reached up.
Her hat was gone.
“Wait.” She looked back. A fat polka dot hat was floating in a puddle.
“Don’t stop,” Jason called. He splashed through the puddles.
Dawn took a breath. She kept going.
They caught up to Jill on Linden Avenue.
Dawn reached out for her arm.
Jill spun around. “Dawn Bosco,” she said. “Jason Bazyk.”
“Who did you think?” Jason asked. “Santa Claus?” He began to laugh.
“Watch out,” Jill said. “I just saw a—” She stopped. She raised her shoulder. “A horrible boy. He had a moustache growing out of his forehead.”
Jason couldn’t stop laughing. He kept pointing to Dawn.
“That was me,” said Dawn. “Just me.”
She took Jill’s hand. She pointed to the ring.
“Where did you get this?” she asked. “On the art room sink?”
“No,” Jill said. “At Lacy’s department store.”
Dawn shook her head. “Listen, Jill. This is Emily Arrow’s ring.”
“She’s right,” Jason said. “Same gold ring. Same blue stone.”
“No.” Jill began to shake her head.
At the same time Dawn opened her mouth. “Wait a minute.”
“I can’t wait,” Jill said. “It’s pouring out.”
“Something’s wrong,” Dawn said.
“Yes,” said Jason. “It’s wrong to take a ring. It’s wrong to say you got it in Lacy’s.”
Dawn stood up straight. “Sorry, Jason. Jill’s not the thief.”
“Sure she is,” said Jason. “Same gold ring. Same blue—”
“Stop saying that,” Dawn said. “Look at the ring.”
“Same blue—” Jason began. He opened his eyes. “No crack.”
“That’s right,” Dawn said. “Emily’s ring had a crack in it.”
“Of course Emily’s ring had a crack,” Jill said. “She banged it on the swings.”
Rain dripped off Jill’s chin. “Good-bye,” she said. “I’m going home. I’m going to watch TV.”
She started to run.
“Hey!” Dawn called. “Why were you in school?”
Jill turned around. She looked as if she were going to cry. “I hate my onion. I was going to make something else. A string bean, maybe.”
“Beast made the string bean,” Dawn said.
“I know,” said Jill. “I was looking at it. I was looking at Emily’s cucumber, too. I couldn’t think of another vegetable to make.”
Jill wiped away another drop of rain. She began to run.
Jason shook the water out of his shoes. “So long,” he said to Dawn.
He st
arted to run, too.
Dawn walked back for her hat.
It was silly to run, she thought.
She was soaking wet anyway.
CHAPTER 9
DAWN WAS STANDING in the art room.
An onion jumped off the windowsill.
So did a string bean.
Emily Arrow’s cucumber rolled up to her. “Thief!” it yelled.
“Lumpy old cucumber!” Dawn shouted. “You can’t even roll right.”
“Time to get up,” her mother said.
She opened her eyes. It was Monday. School.
She still hadn’t solved the mystery.
She sat on the side of her bed. She hated to get dressed.
“Hurry up, Toots,” her mother called.
She looked at her cowgirl boots. They were still wet.
So was her polka dot hat.
She slid into her green jelly sandals.
She reached into her detective box and pulled out a button.
It said: POLKA DOT PRIVATE EYE
It looked great on her pink shirt.
In the kitchen she ate her Puff and Pops.
She didn’t talk.
She had to think hard.
Somehow she had to find out about Emily’s ring.
She talked to herself on the way to school.
“The art room sink,” she said. “All of us were there.”
She counted on her fingers. “Me. Linda. Jill. And Emily.”
Everyone had been laughing.
Well, not everyone.
She and Emily had been pushing a little.
She remembered the ring on the sink.
The soapy ring.
She stopped in the school yard.
Wait a minute, she told herself. That ring wasn’t Emily’s. It was Jill’s.
Emily was sitting on a swing.
Dawn went up to her. “I have bad news. Your ring wasn’t in the art room. I never saw it.”
“I had it in art,” Emily said. She gave a push with her foot. She sailed up in the air. “I wish someone would believe me.”
“I believe you.”
Emily raised her arms on the swing chains. She stood up on the swing.
“You’re not supposed to stand up,” Dawn said. “Don’t get in trouble.”
“I won’t,” said Emily. She smiled at Dawn.
“I didn’t take your ring,” Dawn said.
“I believe you,” said Emily.
Just then the bell rang.
They ran for the big brown doors.
In the classroom, Dawn took out her notebook.
They had to copy a story.
The story was about salad.
The Mystery of the Blue Ring: The Polk Street Mysteries Page 2