The Panda Puzzle (3 page)

CHAPTER 5

Dink had to think fast. “Tom Steele doesn’t know we’re doing a story,” he said. “We just decided to write it a little while ago. We’re hoping he’ll publish it.”

“Does he work on Sundays?” Ruth Rose asked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Irene said. “Especially after what happened to Winnie.”

The kids thanked Irene and headed out of the petting zoo. Pal trotted
behind Josh with his long ears nearly touching the ground.

“Think she’s the kidnapper?” Dink asked.

“I do!” said Josh. “Did you see the size of her hands? She could kidnap a crocodile!”

“It could be her,” Ruth Rose said. “She’s the only one with a key.”

“I don’t know,” Dink said. “She really seems to like animals.”

“Maybe she likes money better,” Josh said, wiggling his eyebrows.

They entered the senior community center through a rear door. Dink spotted a sign saying
THE PANDA PAPER
and an arrow pointing down a hallway.

“Um, what do we ask this guy?” Josh whispered. Pal sniffed the floors as they walked.

“For one thing,” Dink said, “I’ll ask him if he’ll put my story in his paper.”

“The one you haven’t written yet?” Josh asked with a grin.

“Yeah, that one,” said Dink.

Soft guitar music greeted them at an open door. Tom Steele was sitting at a computer with his back to the kids. A small radio sat on the desk.

Dink knocked on the doorjamb. The editor went on typing. He was humming along with the tune.

“Come on,” Ruth Rose said, and she walked into the room.

Tom Steele whirled around in his chair. “You scared me!” he said. He stood up and stared at the kids.

He was probably only a little taller than Dink, but his spiky hair and cowboy boots added another three inches.

He wore round glasses under thick eyebrows that met in the middle. One of his hands had a Band-Aid across the palm.

“Sorry,” Dink said. “I’m Dink Duncan and, um, I’m writing a story about Winnie. This morning, you said you wanted stories, so I—”

Tom raised one hairy eyebrow at Dink. “You’re a writer?”

“Not yet, but I want to be when I grow up,” Dink said.

Tom glanced down at Pal. “Who’s this?”

“His name’s Pal,” Josh said. “He used to belong to crooks!”

“Hmph,” Tom said, sitting back down. He removed his glasses, leaned back, and plunked his boots on the top of his desk
.
The desk was littered with papers, scissors, a bottle of glue, pencils, and an oily pizza box.

Tom held up an issue of
The Panda Paper.
There were holes in the paper where sections had been cut out.

“Have you been reading any of these?” he asked.

“We read them all,” Ruth Rose said. She showed Tom her own copy.

“We like pandas,” Josh said.

Tom squinted his eyes. He stared at the tips of his boots. The only noise in the room was the ticking of a clock. “I like pandas, too,” he said finally. “If I get my hands on whoever kidnapped Winnie …”

He rubbed his face. “Okay, write your story. If it’s good, I’ll print it.”

“Could we ask a few questions?” Dink pulled his notebook from a pocket.

Tom sighed and glanced at his watch. “I guess I can spare a few more minutes,” he said.

“Do you know anyone who has a
key to the panda enclosure?” Dink asked.

“Yeah, Irene Napper does,” he said. “I think she’s the only one.”

Dink nodded.

“Have you ever noticed anyone weird hanging around Panda Park?” Josh asked.

Tom shook his head slowly. “Just normal-looking people like you and me,” he said, grinning.

“Were you surprised when Ping got upset this morning?” Ruth Rose asked.

“Sure, we all were,” Tom said. “Flip told me he’d never seen her so angry.”

“Does Flip Frances visit the pandas a lot?” Josh asked.

Tom stood up. “I have no idea,” he said, “and I have to get back to work.” He stuck out his left hand to shake. “Excuse the wrong hand. I got a bad paper cut on the other one.”

“Thanks, Mr. Steele,” Dink said, shaking the hand. He hesitated, then added, “Do you know where we can find Flip Frances?”

“Flip works at the fitness center,” Tom said, pointing toward Main Street.

Ruth Rose took a close look at the top of Tom’s desk. “Are you going to write a story about the kidnapping, Mr. Steele?” she asked.

The man nodded toward the mess on his desk. “That’s what I’m doing right now,” he said. “So if you’ll excuse me …”

Dink promised to bring his story by in a couple of days, and the kids left. They hurried back down the hall, out the back door, and into the sunshine.

“He’s the one,” Josh announced. “That Band-Aid gave it away. Paper cut, my aunt Fanny! I bet Winnie bit his hand when he grabbed her.”

“He had scissors and glue on his desk, and he was cutting out newspaper clippings,” Ruth Rose said. “The ransom note had letters cut out of newspapers!”

“And did you guys see what was leaning in the corner?” Josh asked.

“No, but you’re going to tell us, right?” Dink said.

“A fishing pole!” Josh said. “And that was a fishing knife Pal found in the bamboo. I say we call the cops!”

“I don’t know,” Dink said. “This guy has a hurt hand. And he’d need both hands if he was climbing a fence carrying a panda.”

Josh smirked. “Ever heard of ladders?”

Dink grinned at his friend. “What, the guy carries a ladder, an alarm clock, a knife, and a panda? Maybe we should be looking for a juggler!”

CHAPTER 6

A sign outside the fitness center said
NO PETS, NO BARE FEET, NO SMOKING
.

Josh tied Pal to a tree, patted his head, and said, “Stay, boy.”

Pal sighed and flopped down. His big brown eyes watched Josh, Dink, and Ruth Rose enter the building.

The fitness center was one enormous room. One end was filled with exercise equipment. A bank of windows looked out at Wren Drive.

A shimmery pool took up the other
end of the room. A lifeguard watched three swimmers doing laps.

Other people were using the weights and machines. The clang of metal hitting metal fought with the rock music blaring from hidden speakers.

Dink wrinkled his nose. He smelled a combination of sweat and chlorine.

A green awning was stretched over a counter where juice and health foods were being sold.

“I need a milkshake!” Josh said, shouting above the music. “I feel weak.”

“They sell health shakes,” Ruth Rose informed him. “They make ’em from seaweed and tofu.”

“What’s tofu?”

Ruth Rose giggled. “It’s white and wiggly,” she said. “You’d hate it, Josh.”

“There’s Flip,” Dink said, “behind the counter.”

Flip Frances was wearing a T-shirt and blue shorts. He had long, muscular arms. “Can I help you kids?” he asked.

“Hi, Mr. Frances,” Dink said. “I’m writing a story about the pandas. Could we interview you?”

“Call me Flip,” the man said, smiling at Dink. “Who’re you?”

“Call him Dink,” Josh said, eyeing the shake machine.

Flip noticed and asked, “You guys thirsty? How about a shake on me?”

“Sure!” Josh said. “But no tofu, please. Or seaweed.”

Flip Frances laughed. “How about milk, yogurt, and strawberries?”

“Now you’re talking!” Josh said, hoisting himself onto a stool.

Flip expertly tossed ingredients into a blender. He switched it on for a minute, then poured the frothy pink concoction into three tall glasses.

“We were there this morning,” Dink said.

Flip slid the shakes and a jar of straws in front of the kids. “My granny Win would be broken-hearted if she knew,” he said.

The kids began drinking. Josh made loud slurping noises through his straw.

Dink picked up his pencil. “Why do they call you Flip?” he asked.

“I work out a lot on the floor mats,”

Flip said. He grinned. “I guess I’m famous for my back flips. Why do they call you Dink?”

Josh started to laugh and choked on his shake.

“My real name is Donald David Duncan,” Dink told him. “I guess Dink is easier.”

Flip looked at Dink’s notebook. “So how much have you written?” he asked.

“Not much,” Dink said. “We’re talking to people who know Winnie.”

“Did your grandmother like pandas?” Ruth Rose asked. “Is that why she left all that money?”

Flip nodded. “Granny Win loved animals,” he said. “She used to donate money to animal shelters all the time.”

Dink glanced at his notes about Irene Napper. “Do you know who has keys to the panda enclosure?” he asked.

Flip nodded. “Yup. Irene has one. I don’t know who else.”

“Have you seen anybody strange hanging around Panda Park?” Josh asked.

Flip looked up at the ceiling. “Not strange, maybe, but that guy who writes
The Panda Paper
seems to be there a lot. Tom Steele.”

In his notebook, Dink wrote TOM
STEELE
in dark letters.

“Anything else?” Flip asked. “It’s almost my lunch break.”

The kids finished their shakes. “Thanks a lot,” Dink told Flip.

“Glad to do it,” he answered.

Just then, a tall redheaded woman approached the counter. She was dressed like Flip, in a T-shirt and blue shorts. “Sorry I’m late,” she said to Flip. “You can take off for lunch now.”

“No problem, Kate,” he said. “Late lunch is better than no lunch.”

Flip placed both hands on the
counter and vaulted over. “Good luck with your story,” he said to the kids as he strode out the door.

Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose followed Flip out. They saw him leap into a dusty jeep with a rack on top. He tooted and waved as he pulled onto Bridge Lane.

“Well, what do you think?” Dink asked, watching the jeep turn right on Main Street.

“He gets my vote,” Josh said, untying Pal’s leash from the tree. “That guy could climb an eight-foot fence with one arm tied behind his back.”

Ruth Rose laughed. “Joshua, ten minutes ago you said the kidnapper was Tom Steele.”

“Yeah,” Dink said, “and before that, you were sure it was Irene Napper!”

“So who do you think it is?” Josh asked.

“It could be any of them,” Dink said with a sigh. He shoved his notebook into his back pocket.

“Did you guys notice that rack on Flip’s jeep?” Ruth Rose asked. “I wonder if that’s for a boat.”

“I don’t get it,” Josh said.

“Maybe Flip is a fisherman, Josh,” Ruth Rose said. “Remember the knife?”

“Wait a sec,” Dink said. He zipped back inside the fitness center.

Kate looked up and smiled at him. “Come to work out? Kids get in free after three o’clock on Sundays.” She slid three passes across the counter.

“Thanks,” Dink said, slipping the passes into a pocket. Then he crossed his fingers behind his back. “Flip said something about going fishing later. Do you know if he has a boat?”

“Just an old canoe,” she said. “But he can’t go fishing. He’s working all day.”

Dink felt himself blush. Oh, um, maybe I made a mistake. See ya!” He darted back outside.

“Canoe,” he said.

“See!” Josh crowed.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Dink said. “All three of the people we talked to could have done it.”

“And time is running out for Winnie,” Ruth Rose said. “Eight hours till midnight!”

Josh looked at his watch. “Yikes!” he said, starting to run. “I have to be home in five minutes!”