Detective Camp (5 page)

“Guys, if the Darbys didn’t fix their broken lock, they sure wouldn’t bother with an alarm,” Ruth Rose said. She turned the doorknob and the door opened.

Dink felt his heart suddenly begin racing as they stepped into the dark kitchen. He crossed his fingers, hoping the Darbys were sound sleepers.

Then he remembered that Mademoiselle Musée also slept in the house. He crossed more fingers.

“This way,” Ruth Rose whispered.

They walked around the long worktable, then through the swinging door into the dining room.

Moonlight shone through the windows, revealing a dining room table. On one end, a large towel covered a bunch
of lumpy objects. Dink lifted the towel. He found bottles of liquid, some cotton balls, a package of Q-tips, and a small painting out of its frame. Even in the dim room, Dink could tell that the painting had been cleaned.

Dink replaced the towel carefully. At the far end of the room, he noticed a trunk. It stood on its end with the lid open sideways, like a door. Arranged on narrow shelves inside the trunk were brushes, more bottles, pliers, a hammer, and a few books. The binding on the biggest book read
100 Years of American Painters
.

Josh was staring up at a massive moose head over the fireplace mantel. “He looks like you, Dink,” Josh said. “Same ears.”

“Guys, look,” Ruth Rose whispered. She was pointing to a small cardboard box. On its sides were the words:
ALL-SAFE LATEX GLOVES
.

“She wears these gloves,” Ruth Rose said. “Why don’t I leave her ring on the box? She’ll have to notice it tomorrow.”

Dink nodded. “Good idea,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here before Josh trips over something and the cops catch us for burglarizing!”

Ruth Rose carefully placed the ring on top of the box. The kids hurried out of the lodge and raced across the lawn toward the cabins. Angie and Buzzy were standing on the Moose Cabin porch. They didn’t look happy.

“Uh-oh,” Josh murmured. “Busted.”

“Where have you kids been?” Angie asked.

Dink didn’t know what to say. Josh opened his mouth like a goldfish gulping for oxygen.

“I found Mademoiselle’s ring,” Ruth Rose finally admitted. “We were just returning it. I left it on her worktable.”

Both of the counselors stared at her.

“I found the ring under my mattress,” Ruth Rose went on. “Dink and Josh and I didn’t know what else to do, so we brought it to the dining room.”

“The ring was under your mattress?” Angie said.

Ruth Rose nodded. “I don’t know how it got there, honest!”

“You should have told one of us,” Buzzy said. “We don’t want you kids wandering around in the middle—”

“Ruth Rose, thank you for telling us,” Angie broke in. “We’ll take it from here. Now let’s all get some sleep. Good night, everyone.”

She and Ruth Rose went next door to Fox Cabin. Dink and Josh followed Buzzy inside. “No more midnight rambles, guys,” Buzzy whispered as he slid under his covers.

Dink crawled into his sleeping bag.
As he was pulling it up to his chin, the moonlight fell on one of his pajama sleeves. He noticed something yellow on the cuff. It looked like a paint smudge.

Dink touched the smudge, and some of the yellow came off on his finger. It definitely looked like paint. And it was still sticky.

Where had he rubbed against wet paint? Then he remembered the painting on the table in the lodge dining room.

“Oh no,” he muttered to himself as he closed his eyes. He hoped he hadn’t damaged the painting.

As he fell asleep, he pictured himself being sued for a million dollars for ruining a masterpiece.

A raucous scream brought Dink out of a deep sleep. He bolted up off his pillow. Through sleepy, startled eyes, Dink peered out the window over his bed.

Ronald was sitting on a fence post. The rooster flapped his wings and crowed once again. “COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”

Dink yawned, checked his watch, and saw that it was a little after five-thirty. He noticed the small yellow paint smear on his pajama cuff again. He unzipped his sleeping bag and looked
around the cabin. Everyone else was still sound asleep. Buzzy was snoring loudly, with his mouth open.

Dink dressed quickly, put on sneakers, and left the cabin. A few stars still shone, although a dawn-pink glow was appearing through the trees.

He hurried across the dewy lawn to the back of the lodge. Opening the kitchen door quietly, he peered inside. No Mario. No anyone. He stepped inside and tiptoed to the dining room.

The first thing he checked was the box of gloves. The ring was still there, exactly where Ruth Rose had left it. Then he removed the towel and looked at the painting. Now he could see that it was a winter scene on a farm.

He peered closely at a yellow house. He figured that was where his pajama sleeve had picked up paint. The house looked fine, so he hadn’t ruined it.
Gently, he placed a fingertip on the house—the paint was dry.

He replaced the towel, feeling better. He let himself out of the lodge and nearly bumped into Remote.

“What’re you doing here?” Dink asked.

The goat playfully butted his head against Dink’s leg.

“Sorry, no cookies,” Dink said, giving the goat’s head a rub.

Remote turned away and trotted toward one side of the barn. Dink followed him. They came to a small chicken coop enclosed by a wire fence. Dink could hear low clucking sounds, and he could definitely smell chicken manure!

Next to the henhouse stood a large doghouse with straw spilling out the door. Remote stepped inside and gracefully lay down with all four hooves tucked beneath his body.

“Okay, you go back to sleep,” Dink said. “We don’t eat till eight o’clock.”

Just then Dink heard someone approaching on the gravel driveway. He
walked around the barn and saw Mario stepping down from a black truck.

Dink stood still, feeling as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.

Mario walked toward the kitchen door, yawning. He saw Dink and stopped. “Early bird, eh?” he said.

“Ronald woke me up,” Dink said. “I decided to look around.”

“Want to help?” Mario asked. “Can you gather some eggs? There’s a basket inside the coop.”

“Sure,” Dink said. “Um, do chickens bite?”

Mario laughed. “They might peck, but only if they’re scared. Talk to them gently so they know you’re not an enemy. If they’re on a nest, just move your hand under them slowly and get the eggs.”

Dink opened the coop door. He saw about a dozen chickens, all on nests built
along one wall. He found the basket hanging on a nail by the door.

The chickens all stared at Dink as he approached their roosting places. “Good morning, you guys,” Dink said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Got eggs?”

He reached out one hand slowly and slid it beneath a plump white hen. She cocked her head at him but didn’t seem to mind his hand. Dink’s fingers found two warm eggs.

Grinning, he set them in the basket and moved to the next nest. Five minutes later, he walked into the kitchen with sixteen eggs.

“Ah, enough for pancakes,” Mario said. “You feel like being my assistant? Grab that apron off the hook.”

“Awesome!” Dink said, tying a large white apron around his waist. It reached to the tops of his sneakers.

They worked together for a while, then Mario thanked Dink and sent him back to Moose Cabin.

“I appreciate your help,” the cook said. “You’ll make a great chef someday!”

Dink smiled and headed back toward the cabins. The sun was glinting through the trees now, turning the dewy lawn into a blanket of tiny diamonds.

The guys in Moose Cabin were tumbling out of bed, searching for something to wear. Dink grabbed his toothbrush and headed for the washhouse.

Josh was already there, and Dink told him what he’d been doing.

“You got to make pancakes?” Josh said with toothpaste foam on his lips. “And you let me sleep?”

“All I did was crack eggs and throw stuff in a big bowl,” Dink said. Then he grinned. “Mario did say he thought that I’d make an excellent chef!”

Josh shook his head. “I’ll bet there’ll be eggshells in all the pancakes,” he said.

“Nope,” Dink said, turning on the water. “Just in yours.”

At eight o’clock, everyone was sitting at the picnic tables. Dink and Josh waved at Ruth Rose, and she joined them at their table.

“I snuck back in the lodge this morning,” Dink whispered. “The ring was still there. I hope she finds it.”

“Who’s that guy?” asked Josh, pointing toward a man talking with Buzzy.

The man had sleek gray hair. He was thin, had a pointy nose, and was dressed in a gray tracksuit. He reminded Dink of a greyhound dog. His small black eyes seemed to take in everything.

The man sat down at another table, and Buzzy walked into the kitchen. He and the other counselors brought out
platters of pancakes, jugs of syrup, and pitchers of orange juice.

“Guys, I just thought of something,” Ruth Rose said. “I want to find out if Mademoiselle Musée found her ring yet. Want to come and see her with me?”

“When?” Josh asked.

“Now, right after we eat,” Ruth Rose said. “It’ll just take a minute.”

After a few minutes, Luke blew his whistle. “Good morning, everyone!” he said. “I hope you all slept well. How about a big cheer for Mario’s fabulous flapjacks!”

Everyone clapped and whistled.

“And this gentleman is Detective Robb,” Luke went on. “He’s going to be your teacher this week. You’ll learn all about fingerprinting and other cool stuff. Mademoiselle Musée has agreed to teach you about forgery. It’s gonna be a great week!”

The man in gray stood up and nodded his head. “Morning, kids,” he said. “Don’t let me interrupt your breakfast. Dig in!”

“One more thing,” Angie called out. “Everyone come back here right after chores. You’ll get your map clues and you can start to hunt for the treasure!”

Everyone cheered, then started to eat.

Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose finished first, then got up and headed for the kitchen.

“How were those flapjacks?” Mario asked, winking at Dink.

“The best I ever ate,” Josh said, “even if Dink’s hands touched the batter!”