The Clue in the Trees: An Enchantment Lake Mystery Page 9

  “Let me see that,” Jay said, and Francie handed him the lump. They all moved under the streetlight outside. Jay turned it this way and that, then whispered, “I think this might be an actual tooth. Of a very large animal.”

  “But why would your brother put it there?” Raven said.

  “To hide it? Maybe the guy who was chasing us was after it? I mean, that seems like the most sense, doesn’t it?”

  “We need to find out what kind of tooth this is,” Jay said. “Let’s ask my dad.”

  “Your dad?” Raven asked.

  “He’s a dentist,” Jay explained.

  Raven handed Francie her schoolbag, and Francie stuffed the thing into it, hefted it over her shoulder, and the three of them stepped out into the damp wind.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Raven said when they approached Jay’s house.

  “What? No!” Jay said. “It’s cold out here.”

  “I’m okay,” Raven said.

  Francie looked at her with concern. Why would she want to wait out in the cold when she could go in the warm house? Jay decided for her when he opened the door and pulled her inside.

  They were greeted by Jay’s dad, who said, “Come on in. It’s colder than a polar bear’s toenails out there.” He looked at all of them over his reading glasses. Francie couldn’t help but notice that his eyes rested a little longer on Raven. Living in a town like Walpurgis, he’d have to be used to seeing Native people, Francie thought, just maybe not in his own house.

  “Another cold wave from Canada,” Jay said.

  His dad recovered from the surprise—or whatever it was—in time to deliver the punch line, “You’d think they’d weatherstrip the border!”

  Jay shrugged apologetically, dug the whatever-it-was out of the schoolbag, and handed it to his father. “Dad, do you know if this is a tooth and, if so, what kind of animal it’s from?”

  Before his dad even pushed his glasses up onto his nose into reading mode, Jay was Googling pictures of dinosaur teeth and comparing them to the pointed lump in his dad’s hands. “Doesn’t it look like this Tarbosaurus bataar tooth?” he asked. “Only I bet it’s even bigger than that.” He stared intently at his phone for a moment, then dashed away down the hall, tripped over a throw rug, recovered, and disappeared into another room.

  “This dinosaur did not use good dental hygiene,” Dr. Rawlings said. “But do you know what dinosaur had the healthiest teeth and gums?”

  “No idea,” Francie said.

  “The flossoraptor!” Dr. Rawlings mimed hitting a drumset cymbal.

  Francie and Raven emitted dutiful chuckles. Jay, returning with a tape measure in hand, set to work measuring the tooth.

  “You guys!” Jay nearly breathed the words.

  “What?” Francie and Raven breathed back at him.

  “This tooth is bigger than the biggest dinosaur tooth ever found. If it is a dinosaur tooth—a real one, that is—then it probably came from—”

  “The biggest dinosaur ever!” Raven and Francie said simultaneously, then, also simultaneously, slugged each other.

  “You kids!” Dr. Rawlings said. “I thought it was Halloween, not April Fools’!” He tucked his glasses into his shirt pocket and ambled away, shaking his head.

  Francie and Raven stepped back outside, the tooth tucked into Francie’s schoolbag. They agreed to stash the fossil at Francie’s apartment, but they hadn’t gone two blocks when Francie got that weird feeling that they were being followed.

  It wasn’t just a feeling. A truck drove up just behind them, moving slowly along as they walked.

  “Are those guys trying to intimidate us, or what?” Francie asked Raven.

  “Are you intimidated?”

  “No.”

  “Me neither.” Raven looked over at the truck, where the two boys smirked at her. “Did you want something?” she called over to the boys.

  “Just making sure you don’t trespass on somebody’s property,” the boy in the passenger seat said out his open window.

  “We’re on the city sidewalk,” Francie said. “Public property.”

  “Well, stay there,” shouted the driver, then sped up, did a U-turn, and peeled away.

  “What was that about?” Francie said. “Was it about the protest? Did you know we were trespassing that day?”

  “I thought it was tribal land,” Raven said.

  “That’s not what the sheriff says.”

  “Is the law always right, Miss Antigone? Sometimes you have to defy the law to do what’s right—right?”

  “So you knew we were trespassing—or whatever?”

  “No,” Raven said. “Actually, I didn’t.”

  Francie glanced over her shoulder. The truck was disappearing around a corner, but she noticed something more disturbing. “Who wears a trench coat and fedora in Walpurgis?” she said.

  “What?” Raven said. “Nobody.”

  “Somebody does.” Francie quickly steered the two of them toward the center of town. “And whoever it is . . . is following us.”

  Downtown businesses were hosting Halloween-themed events. Candy was involved, so swarms of small children mobbed the streets, their costumes buried under parkas, hats, and mittens. Shimmery blue gowns hung below plaid jackets, boldly striped pirate pants poked out from under coats, masks perched on the stocking hats of goblins and ghosts and princesses and fairies.

  Francie glanced over her shoulder. Trench Coat was closing the gap.

  “Hurry!” Francie yelped, and she and Raven tore down the sidewalk, rounded the corner, and for a moment were out of sight of Trench Coat. Francie took the opportunity to lift the tooth from her schoolbag and drop it into the pillowcase of an inattentive Ninja Turtle. Entranced by a magic show in front of the hardware store, the tot dragged his trick-or-treat bag along behind him, seemingly unaware of his new prize.

  Francie pulled Raven into the drugstore. From there she could watch the Ninja Turtle out the window.

  “What’s going on?” Raven whispered.

  “It’s okay,” Francie stared out the window, determined to not let the tot out of her sight. “I got rid of it; it’s in that Ninja Turtle’s pillowcase.”

  “What?” Raven whispered. “You put that tooth in a kid’s trick-or-treat bag? Are you kidding me?”

  “It kept Trench Coat from getting it, didn’t it?” she whispered back.

  “Do you girls need any help?” A store employee approached, stood a few feet away, crossed her arms, and glared at them.

  “No, thanks,” Francie said.

  “Can I help you find anything?” the clerk asked again, staring at Raven.

  “We’re fine.” Francie tried to return the clerk’s stare, but the woman’s gaze was fixed on Raven.

  Raven executed an almost imperceptible eye roll.

  Geez, Francie thought. Did Raven deal with this kind of crap all the time?

  “She just has to call her brother,” Raven said and poked Francie. “Then we’ll skedaddle.”

  The store clerk stood her ground. Francie glanced out the window. Fortunately, the young trick-or-treater moved about as fast as a regular, non–Ninja-type turtle, so Francie looked down just as long as it took to find Theo’s number. When she looked up again, somebody had the little boy by the hand and was pulling him and his pillowcase along at a pretty good clip. Somebody in a trench coat and fedora.

  Francie grabbed Raven by the arm and bolted for the door.

  The crowd on Main Street had grown. Fortunately, the crowd consisted of mostly kids eight years old or younger, which made them easy to see over. It also made them easy to stumble over. When she got clear, Francie made a dash for it and, rushing up behind the two figures, impulsively grabbed the pillowcase away from the child.

  The trench coat turned, and Francie came face-to-face with . . .

  “Phoebe?” Francie said.

  Raven threw her hands to her face in embarrassment.

  “What is your guys’ problem?” Phoebe said. “I don’t
believe it—stealing kids’ trick-or-treat bags? Jeez!” She grabbed the bag back. Or tried to, but Francie had a firm grip on it. A tug-of-war of sorts ensued.

  “I . . . uh . . . ,” Francie stammered. “Um . . . why are you wearing a trench coat?”

  “Duh! Halloween?” Phoebe said.

  “Ri . . . ight,” Francie said.

  Phoebe ripped the bag out of Francie’s hands. “I hope you realize you’re traumatizing my little brother,” she huffed, then hurried down the street, yanking the little turtle along behind her.

  18

  The Lie Detector

  FRANCIE AND RAVEN pressed their faces up against the glass doors of the school, which were locked.

  “There he is,” Raven said, rattling the door. Mr. Redburn was busy setting up a table in the lobby outside the gymnasium where the dance was to be held. “He’ll have Phoebe’s number, even though you don’t.”

  “What about you? Why don’t you have it?”

  “Why would I have Phoebe’s number?” Raven said. “I don’t even have a phone!”

  In response to their pounding, Mr. Redburn looked up, walked over, opened the door, and said, “Dance doesn’t start until eight o’clock.”

  “We know, but we need a phone number from you.”

  “Whose?”

  “Phoebe’s,” Raven said.

  “Why?” Mr. Redburn sounded skeptical.

  Reading his face, Francie could see he knew that although she and Phoebe played sisters in the play, they were not friends. Not that it was a secret or anything.

  “Long story,” Raven said. “But it’s kind of urgent.”

  “You’ll see her in a few hours,” he said. “Can’t it wait until then?”

  “Urgent!” Raven repeated.

  Redburn sighed and opened the door, and the girls stepped inside. He retrieved his phone and gave them Phoebe’s number, and then Raven said, “Hey, would it be okay if we borrowed some costumes? You know, for the party? I mean, can we borrow something from the costume shop?”

  “I don’t need a costume!” Francie protested.

  But Mr. Redburn was already sliding the key to the costume room off his ring.

  “Okay,” he said, handing it to Raven. “But nothing from the show!” he hollered as they hurried down the hall.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Raven said, “Okay, little Missy, make the call.”

  Francie punched in the number and waited until Phoebe picked up.

  “What do you want?” Phoebe asked.

  A line from the play popped into Francie’s head: Go away, Ismene. I shall be hating you soon. She said instead, “I don’t know if your brother has found any weird thing in his trick-or-treat bag, but it’s mine.”

  “What was that thing? Gross!” Phoebe said.

  “What was?” Francie repeated, her skin prickling.

  Raven’s eyes widened.

  “Eww!” Phoebe said. “Why did you put that in my brother’s bag, anyway? Was that some kind of joke? You’re sick!”

  Francie tried to keep her voice level. “Where is it now?” she asked.

  There was a long silence at the end of the line. “I don’t have to tell you.”

  “Phoebe!” Francie cried. “Look, I know you don’t like me. I’m sorry I got the part of Antigone. I told Mr. Redburn to give the part to you—”

  “You did?” Phoebe cut in.

  “Yes,” Francie said. “At auditions.”

  There was silence on the other end while Phoebe considered that.

  “So can I get it back?” Francie said, finally.

  After another long pause, Phoebe said, “Fine. I’ll bring it tonight.” She hung up.

  Francie turned to Raven. “She says she’ll bring it tonight.”

  “Well, then!” Raven said, cheerily. “We better get costumes!”

  “Do we really need . . . ,” Francie protested, as Raven took her arm and steered her down the hall, deeper into the school, “. . . costumes?”

  “Yes, we do,” Raven said.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Raven inserted the key in the door and led Francie into the room. “Remember what we were talking about before? About The Case of the Unfortunately Flawed Field Trip?”

  “Um . . . no?” Francie said.

  “I’m just saying, maybe we can find out something.”

  “O . . . kay?” Francie looked around the room at the racks of costumes, the makeup table. “In here?”

  “Not exactly here,” Raven said. “But it turns out that behind all those costumes is a closet, and through the closet is another door, a door that leads to Redburn’s office! And if we’re lucky, this key opens that door, too. Come on!”

  They batted their way through old prom dresses and wedding gowns to a closet, opened the closet door to face more hanging clothes, fur coats, and shelves full of school and theater supplies—paint, stage lighting, and cardboard boxes full of who knows what.

  “See? It’s just like Narnia! You know, through the wardrobe?”

  Just as Raven was about to put the key in the door to Redburn’s office, they heard the door to the costume shop rattling. Retreating from the closet, and pulling Francie along with her, Raven grabbed a bolt of blue fabric, wrapped pretty much all of it around Francie, and immediately started jabbing pins into it.

  “Boo!” Jay leapt into the room dressed in all black, painted in glow-in-the-dark paint to look like a skeleton.

  “Geez, Jay,” Raven said, pressing her hand to her heart.

  “Pretty scary costume, huh?” he said. “How did you know it was me? Oh, shoot, I forgot the mask.” He slid a fabric mask over his head, turning his face into a skull with gaping eyes. “Now do you know who it is?”

  “By the way, Jay,” Raven said, “right now this is the girls’ dressing room.”

  “All skeletons are created equal. Hey, you know why skeletons are so calm?”

  “No, why?” Francie said.

  “Because nothing gets under their skin.”

  Francie laughed and Raven said, “Jay, you spend too much time with your dad.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Never mind,” Raven said.

  “Ow!” Francie yelped. “Watch it with the pins. But, Jay, what are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I found out something.” Jay glanced over his shoulder, then shut the door. “About Redburn,” he whispered.

  “Weawy?” Raven asked through the straight pins in her teeth.

  “Yeah,” Jay said. “After you guys left, I did a little digging and found out that he and Digby were classmates in graduate school. You know—paleontology?”

  “Ee oh ad,” Raven said, talking around the pins.

  “‘We know that,’” Francie translated.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think they were friends, like Redburn says.”

  “No?” Francie said. “Ouch! Geez, Raven! You’re going to draw blood!”

  “It was Redburn who was the rising star in grad school,” Jay continued. “He was all set to become the next Louis Leakey or somebody.”

  “Louis Leakey?”

  “The guy who discovered Homo erectus.”

  “What?” Raven and Francie giggled.

  “Seriously,” Jay said. “An extinct species of the human lineage, having upright stature and a well-evolved postcranial skeleton, but with a smallish brain, low forehead, and protruding face.”

  “Okay, the giggling is immature,” Raven said, giggling.

  “So, what happened?” Francie asked.

  “Redburn dropped out of school.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, but the interesting thing is, it seems that Digby stepped into the limelight about then.”

  “If he was such a hotshot, why was he here, digging up mastodon bones? I don’t think mastodon bones are that big of a deal.”

  “Exactly,” Jay said. “For a guy who’s been head of major expeditions all over the world, you’d think he’d have be
tter things to do.”

  “Maybe he was looking for something bigger than mastodon bones,” Raven said.

  “Like . . . what?”

  “Isn’t there some kind of legend about a treasure out at Enchantment?” Raven stood back and admired her handiwork.

  Francie had so many pins sticking in her she felt like a porcupine. Not daring to move an inch, she said stiffly, “Wait. What? Does everybody know that story? I thought it was just an Enchantment Lake tale that grown-ups told their kids to keep them busy. Like, ‘Kid, go outside and look for buried treasure.’ That kind of thing.”

  “Around here? Everybody’s heard about it,” Jay said. “Not sure everybody believes it.”

  “What do they say the treasure is?” Francie asked.

  “What don’t they say the treasure is?” Jay said. “Bootlegged whiskey . . . copper . . . gold—”

  “Gold?”

  “Oh, yeah, there was a gold rush around here in the late 1800s.”

  “Did they find anything?”

  “Nothing worth the money it took to get it out of the ground. But now they’re starting to rethink that,” Jay said. “There are even stories that there are works of art stashed out there, or ancient artifacts, or whatever. But that’s pretty out there, as theories go.”

  There were three sharp raps on the door, then Redburn’s voice: “You guys in there?”

  Jay, Raven, and Francie looked at each other, then Francie called out, “We’re in here, Mr. Redburn. Come on in.” Then, before Redburn stepped in, she whispered to her friends, “Might as well find out what he knows.”

  Raven mumbled something about looking for a costume and disappeared among the racks of clothes. Jay stared intently at his phone. Francie could see it would be up to her to try to find out what she could from their director.

  “We were just wondering about your college days, or was it your post-college days when you knew Digby?” Francie asked.

  Redburn looked at Francie, since she was the only one looking back.

  “Graduate school,” he said.

  “Oh, right,” she said. “So I guess you were friends then?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Redburn said. “Listen. Are you about finished? I’ve got to lock up. You’re going to have to clear out.”