The Mystery of the Zorse's Mask Page 9

  When the download ends, the phone shows a view of trees and pink curtains. The drone view draws closer, up to the window screen. Izzy’s room is right out of a decorating magazine. Everything is perfectly matched, from the cotton candy–pink carpet to the antique-white furniture. A princess bed with a lacy canopy, castle-shaped toy box, glass cabinet of dolls, and stuffed animals on a shelf are perfectly arranged for display, rather than toys to be played with. The only thing out of place is a Raggedy Andy doll on her purple comforter. He’s propped up against pillows—but instead of wearing the usual red-checkered clothes, his cloth arms stick out through a netted vest trimmed in purple and black jewels.

  We’ve found the fly mask.

  But how do we get it?

  An idea pops into my head, and there’s no time to waste.

  “Leo, I can get the mask, but I need you inside the house with Becca,” I say urgently. “Make up some excuse to get inside.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not good at lying.”

  “Go to the door and say you can’t wait any longer for Becca because you need to go to the bathroom.”

  “I don’t need to use the bathroom.”

  I reach down to the ground, rub my hand in the dirt, then smear the dirt all over Leo’s hand.

  “Kelsey!” He jumps away from me with shock. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Now you need to use the bathroom to wash your hands. No lying required,” I say smugly. “After you wash your hands, tell Becca to keep Izzy distracted. Do not let Izzy go upstairs.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asks uneasily.

  “Climb that oak.” I point up. “When I reach that big branch, I’ll cross it to Izzy’s window. I’ll pry open the screen, sneak inside, and take back the fly mask.”

  “That’s a really high tree.”

  “I’ve been climbing trees since I was little.”

  “Take this.” With his clean hand, he offers me his phone. The screen is back on Izzy, and I hear Becca pleading with her to show her the fly mask. “Kelsey, keep this with you, so you can hear what’s going on. Good luck,” Leo says, then hurries across the street.

  Making sure our bikes are locked, I leave them by the bench, then cross the street to the Ross house. I take off my spy pack and hide it behind a camellia bush and look up, up, up at the tree. The tree is really, really tall. And I’m kind of short.

  Still, I’m a good climber. I can do this … I hope.

  The huge oak shades the yard, creating shadows to hide in as I reach for the lowest branch. It’s high over my head, so I jump. I miss on the first and second tries but grab it on the third. I swing my legs up, then push myself around, so I’m straddling the branch. Standing like I’m walking a balance beam, I tiptoe along the branch until I’m close enough to reach for a higher branch. I grab and swing my feet—too far. I sail over the branch, but grab hold and land hard on my stomach. When I pull myself upright, I hear a rip. I groan at my “borrowed” leopard shirt. There’s a tear down the side.

  If I survive climbing this tree, my sisters are going to kill me.

  But I’m not a quitter, so I keep going. I reach high for the next branch, grab, swing up, then repeat until I’m straddling the branch across from Izzy’s window.

  Unfortunately, this branch isn’t as sturdy as the others. It wiggles as I inch out on it. I clasp my hands in front of me and move slowly.

  From the phone in my pocket, I hear voices.

  “Thanks for letting me use your restroom,” Leo is saying.

  Izzy’s shrill voice pipes up. “No, I don’t like dolls or playing dress up.”

  “What do you like?” Becca persists sweetly.

  “Candy and fire engines and glitter wands.”

  “I make glitter hair ties like this,” Becca says. “Would you like one?”

  “No,” Izzy snaps. And in the background, I hear Leo asking for a glass of water.

  I’m about a foot from the window. A leaf flutters down and snags in my hair. When I pull the leaf out, the limb wobbles. I hold tight as the limb bends like it’s going to snap—which would send me tumbling down to the ground.

  Please, don’t break! I think desperately.

  The branch stops wobbling. I sigh with relief.

  I’m just a hand reach from the window. So close! My fingertips brush the ledge. The window is open, so just a screen separates me from the room. In my old house, I sneaked into my sisters’ room often, so had lots of practice prying open screens. But the branch is creaking …

  I grasp the window ledge just as the branch snaps off. I hold tight by my fingertips. My feet dangle in the air.

  Don’t look below, I warn myself. I’m not afraid of heights—in fact, I was really good at gymnastics, until my family couldn’t pay for my classes anymore. But gymnastic equipment was never this high.

  Focus on the window.

  The ledge is wider than it looked from below. Gripping tight, I swing one leg up, then the other.

  Safe!

  Slowly, I straighten till I’m standing on the ledge against the window.

  From up here, I can see the street with an occasional car driving past and the park where more kids have come to the playground, their parents watching from benches. The bench we sat on is closer to the street, our bikes safely locked to a rack. Everything is in miniature from this viewpoint

  I make the mistake of looking straight down to the ground.

  It’s a long way to fall—but falling is not an option. I can do this. I focus on the window. I shut out everything else. Queasiness fades and I’m back in control.

  I don’t need Leo’s key spider to break into this window. Screens make it so easy, and there are no locks to slow me down (probably because they don’t expect anyone to climb up to a second-story window).

  I pry open one corner of the screen, then the other, until the whole screen pops out, and I push it inside the room—then follow.

  The cotton-candy carpet is so soft, my feet make no sound as I walk over to the bed.

  Raggedy Andy gives me a blank, button-eyed stare as I lift him and take the mask (which he wears like an apron) off his arms.

  Yay! I’ve found the fly mask. It’s made of sturdy black netting, tawny leather, and trimmed at the bottom in black and purple jewels. The purple stones sparkle like real jewels, but the smaller black stones don’t even shine. There’s an empty spot for the largest stone—the blue one Leo found that we gave to Caleb.

  From the phone, I hear a cry from Becca, “No! Not upstairs!”

  I snap to alertness. Time to leave!

  I run to the window, climb out on the ledge, then snap the window screen back into place.

  Getting down the tree is much quicker than going up, though it’s scary reaching for the nearest sturdy branch. I climb from branch to branch until I let go with a jump.

  Picking up my spy pack, I slip it over my shoulders.

  I hurry across the street, holding tight to the fly mask.

  Chapter 14

  Ditzy Dog

  Becca and Leo join me minutes later in the park, by our bikes.

  “Look!” I announce, waving the jeweled mask toward them.

  “I can’t believe you found it!” Becca’s ponytail whips back and forth as she shakes her head. “Izzy said she didn’t have it.”

  “Adorable little liar.” I smile. “But now it’s the truth, since she doesn’t have it.”

  Leo leans close to the mask. “The jewels appear surprisingly real.”

  “But we know they’re fake,” I remind him.

  “Do we?” Leo runs a finger over a shining purple stone. “I’d like to test them for authenticity.”

  Becca snatches it protectively from my hands. “I’m taking this directly to Caleb. He’ll be so impressed,” she adds with a hopeful smile. Her smile changes to a frown though when she looks closely at me. “Kelsey, your leopard shirt is torn.”

  “And dirty,” I say with a rueful glance down.

  “I�
��ll fix it for you when we get to my house,” she offers. “I still can’t believe you climbed all the way up that tree. You’re amazing, Kelsey!”

  “We worked as a team,” I say modestly, but inside I’m puffing up with pride.

  “Mission accomplished.” Leo jumps onto his gyro-board. “Let’s go.”

  “I see you washed your muddy hand.” I can’t resist teasing him.

  He grins. “Turns out I did have to go to the bathroom. Meet you at Becca’s house.” With a click of his remote control, he zooms off.

  Becca and I unlock our bikes. By the time we hop on them, Leo is already out of sight. As we near the downtown area, I get an idea.

  “Let’s turn at the next street,” I tell Becca.

  “Why?”

  “Just come with me,” I say mysteriously.

  She follows me on a side road I rode down a few days ago. Yellow blooms burst into view, and I glance over to Becca, who is slowing her bike to stare with delight.

  “Sunflower Mary’s garden,” Becca exclaims.

  I nod at the same time Mary herself hobbles out from the porch and waves us over.

  “So good to see you again, sweetie,” she tells me. “And you brought a friend. She’s wearing a sparkly necklace like yours.”

  “She’s a Sparkler,” I say.

  “Hello, Mary.” Becca waves. “Remember me?”

  The wrinkles around Sunflower Mary’s eyes deepen as she studies Becca. “Oh my, yes. But you’ve grown taller than me and so pretty with your father’s dark hair and mother’s sunny smile. Shame they split up. Do you still live with wild animals?”

  Becca nods. “Not all of them are wild. I share my bedroom with a miniature goat and two sweet dogs.”

  “A goat in your room? Now that’s strange,” says the strangest woman I’ve ever met. “Do you still have your flower?”

  “I wish. But that was years ago.” Becca props up her bike on the sidewalk and walks over to the garden. “Your flowers are so gorgeous. How do you grow them so big?”

  “I never reveal my secrets. I’m sure your friend understands about secrets,” she says, glancing over at me with a knowing look. But she can’t know about my notebook of secrets.

  Or does she? I wonder. When I met Mary yesterday, she admitted knowing more than people realized. Living near busy downtown streets, she can observe people going to jobs, appointments, or socializing with friends. She knows my father and Becca’s parents. She probably knows more about Sun Flower than anyone else—which means she might be able to solve one of our mysteries.

  “Mary, can I ask you something?” I say carefully.

  “Sure thing, sweetie. What?”

  “I found a pen—I don’t have it with me—but it’s blue with a logo from a business I’d never heard of: Desert Sun Train. Does that sound familiar?”

  “We’re near hills not the desert, and there aren’t any trains here—except the model trains in Cody Lancaster’s basement. But that’s just a hobby, not a business.”

  “Model trains?” I consider this, then shake my head. “The word train on the pen isn’t clear and there’s a faded spot for another word after it.”

  “So it could be a word similar to train,” Becca adds. “Like grain or brain.”

  “Which doesn’t help us at all,” I add with a groan.

  “Why the fuss over a pen?” Mary’s shrewd eyes sharpen. “Where’d you find it?”

  “On the ground,” I say cautiously because she’s too curious (like a grown-up version of me). Before she can ask more questions, I glance at my watch. “Wow, look at the time; we have to go.”

  Becca nods. “Mom must be wondering where I am.”

  “Your mother was a sweet child—you look a lot like Renee. Shame about your father … but not all romances are meant to last. Tell your mother she needs to get out more and listen with her heart. And take these with you.” Mary pulls out two yarn flowers from her skirt pocket and hands them to Becca. “For you and your mother.”

  “Thank you,” Becca says as she clips the sunflower to her shirt. “I won’t wash this one in the machine.”

  “Wear it proudly,” Mary says in a crackly voice.

  Becca doesn’t have her backpack, so I offer to let her put the second yarn flower in my spy pack. “It’ll be safe there until you get home,” I offer.

  “Good idea,” Becca says as she hands her mother’s flower to me.

  I sling my spy pack off, onto the sidewalk, then zip it open. A bejeweled strap from the fly mask sparkles on top.

  Quick as a blink, Sunflower Mary swoops down to grab the mask. “And what is this pretty trinket?” she says, holding it up so it shines in the sunlight.

  “Not a trinket—a fly mask for horses,” Becca says with an uneasy glance at me.

  “I’ve ridden lots of horses but never saw such a sparkly fly mask.” Mary shakes her head. “These purple and black jewels must be worth a fortune.”

  “They’re fakes,” I explain.

  Mary squints at the mask, then rubs her finger over the shimmering stones. “The black stones look like pebbles, but these purple ones gleam like sapphires. Much too fancy for a horse.”

  “He’s a zorse, not a horse,” Becca corrects. “And he is very special.”

  I pluck the mask from Mary’s hand. “We have to go,” I say as I zip the mask and yarn flower inside my spy pack.

  We thank her for the yarn flowers and hop back on our bikes and pedal away.

  I feel Sunflower Mary’s gaze on me, but I don’t turn around.

  I pedal faster, not even slowing as I turn the corner.

  “Watch out!” Becca cries.

  A small brown dog darts across the road in my front of my front tire. I slam my brakes and jerk the wheel away from the dog. Skidding, I grip tightly, so I don’t fly off my bike. Tires squeal as my bike stops.

  The brown dog pads calmly down the road as if nothing happened.

  “Are you okay?” Becca cries, rolling up beside me.

  “Shaky but relieved. Thanks for the warning. I didn’t even see him until he was right in front of me!” I wipe sweat from my forehead.

  “He was running fast, but now he’s stopped on that lawn.” Becca points a few houses down across the street.

  I follow her gaze to where the dog is lifting his leg on a bush.

  “I’ve seen that dog before,” I say, surprised. “His name is Ditzy!”

  “How do you know him?” Becca asks.

  “His picture was on a missing pet flyer.”

  “Poor lost dog,” Becca says. “If he keeps running in the streets, he could be hit by a car. We have to catch him.”

  “But if we go after him, it could take so long, Caleb might leave.”

  “The dog is more important than a fly mask.”

  “But Caleb is probably already at your house.”

  “He can wait.” Becca looks worried. “I’ll text Leo, so he can tell Mom and Caleb I’ll be late. Speedy Leo is probably already at my house. He’ll tell Mom and Caleb to wait for us and that we found the fly mask. Come on. We have a dog to catch!”

  Ditzy isn’t a big dog—a dachshund. But he’s fast and catching him isn’t easy. We chase him on our bikes, then jump off when he darts into an empty lot. I can run faster than Becca, so she stays with the bikes while I take off after the dog.

  When he stops to sniff a bush, I lunge forward with my arms outstretched.

  “Gotcha!” I cry as I pounce on him.

  He squirms but wags his tail, so I know he doesn’t mind being held. He’s heavy though, and I’m panting by the time I return to Becca. She has her phone out and the screen shows the Humane Society’s page for missing pets.

  “Ditzy has been missing for two days. I’m calling his owner now,” Becca tells me as I grip the dog’s collar tightly. He’s still squirming but not as much. He sniffs Becca’s leg, wagging his tail excitedly. He probably smells the menagerie of animals from Wild Oaks Sanctuary.

  I keep hold of Dit
zy while Becca talks on her phone. The owner lives on the other side of town. We wait in the empty lot until she arrives in an SUV with a little boy about Izzy’s age strapped in a car seat in back. As soon as the woman steps out of the car, Ditzy jumps inside and licks the little boy. Laughing, the kid hugs his dog and thanks us. Izzy could learn some manners from him.

  The mother insists we take a twenty as a reward. I tuck the bill into my pocket. As the CCSC decided, half of any reward money will go to our kitten fund, and the other half will be donated to the Humane Society.

  Finally we hop back on our bikes. We don’t talk as we roll past downtown, then up the steep hill to Becca’s home. But I know Becca is worried that Caleb didn’t wait and has already left with Zed. I don’t think he’d go without the mask, but you can never predict what grown-ups will do.

  When we ride into Becca’s driveway, Caleb Hunter’s horse trailer is right where he left it. There’s no sign of his truck, which he’s been using to drive back and forth. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

  Leo rises up from a porch chair and rushes over, frowning. “You’re too late.”

  “No, we aren’t.” Becca points to the trailer. “Caleb hasn’t left yet.”

  “Actually, they have.” Leo tucks his hands into his pants pockets.

  “They?” Becca asks curiously, swiveling her gaze from the horse trailer to the pasture. “But Zed is grazing in the field and the trailer is still here.”

  “Caleb left with your mom in her car,” Leo says.

  “Why would they leave together?” Becca twirls the end of her ponytail around her fingers. “Where did they go?”

  “Out to dinner,” Leo answers. “On a date.”

  Chapter 15

  Real or Fake?

  “My mom and Caleb!” Becca hands fly to cover her open mouth.

  I’m shocked too, although now that I think about it, Caleb and Becca’s mother have been getting along really well. But I never expected them to like each other.

  “Weird, huh?” Leo chuckles. “According to my calculations, 29 percent of perfect first dates lead to marriage. Not great odds, but if it happens, then Caleb Hunter will be your stepfather.”