Karen's Mystery Read online

  “I doubt it,” said Sam. “I am sure Emily is just running around the house. I hope she finds the kitchen, though. It would be awful if she starved.”

  “Or got stepped on,” said Andrew. “What if someone was just walking along and then the person stepped on Emily and tripped and fell down the stairs and crash-landed at the bottom and — ”

  “Enough, Andrew,” said Daddy.

  David Michael leaned over to me. You know what he whispered in my ear? He whispered, “Hey, Karen, I do not want to scare you, but I read that rats can squeeze down to an inch or two and fit into teeny-tiny spaces. Even fat rats can do that. So we better search carefully. Emily Junior could be anywhere.”

  Upstairs and Downstairs

  We started the hunt for Emily in the playroom. My big-house family spread out. We looked under chairs and couches. We looked behind bookcases. Andrew looked in the toy chest. “If I were a rat, this is where I would hide,” he said. “Then I would stay up all night and play.”

  “Is Emily Junior a good climber?” Charlie asked me.

  “Oh, she is very good,” I answered. “I am training her for the rat circus.”

  “Then we better look up high, too. Not just down low.” Charlie began to poke through the books on the shelves.

  “We better look everywhere,” I added. David Michael had said that rats can squeeze down to eensy sizes. So Emily Junior could be —

  Under the rug! Yipes! What if she had crawled under the rug and we were step-ping all over her? There were no lumps in the rug, but I lifted a corner and peered underneath. No Emily. Even so, I called out, “Everybody, watch where you step!”

  Then I looked for Emily under a cowboy hat. I looked between the cushions on the couch. I peered inside the dollhouse. I looked in a box of crayons.

  “Stop fooling around, Karen,” said Sam.

  “I am not fooling around. I am being — I am being — ”

  “Thorough,” supplied Elizabeth. “Karen is being thorough.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Daddy looked at his watch. “It is getting late,” he announced. “We have a whole house to search. I think we should spread out.”

  Nannie and Elizabeth and David Michael and Charlie went downstairs. Daddy and Andrew and Sam and Kristy and I stayed upstairs. We decided we should each search different rooms.

  “I will check all the bathrooms,” I announced.

  First I went into the bathroom I share with Andrew and David Michael and Emily Michelle. “Goodness,” I said. “I will have to check a lot of places in here. If Emily Junior can shrink, she could be inside that plastic boat. She could have gone down the drain in the sink. Or in the bathtub.” I leaned into the bathtub. I yelled down the drain, “Hey, Emily, are you in there? You come out right now!”

  No Emily.

  I looked under the bathroom rug. I looked in a pile of towels. I looked in the toilet.

  No Emily.

  I decided that the search for Emily was like a treasure hunt. Except there were no clues to follow. And the treasure was Emily.

  “Hey, everybody! We’re on a treasure hunt!” I yelled.

  “Indoor voice, please, Karen,” said Daddy. “Emily Michelle is asleep.”

  “Sorry,” I replied. “Daddy, can you please come here?”

  Daddy joined me in the bathroom.

  “What if Emily Junior slid down the laundry chute?” I asked.

  “The door to the chute is closed, honey,” said Daddy. “You do not need to worry about that.”

  I checked the basement anyway.

  No Emily.

  My big-house family and I searched for more than an hour. We searched every-where. No Emily.

  “This treasure hunt is not fun,” I said.

  The Vanishing Lights

  I had been sure we would find Emily Junior before I went to bed that night.

  But we did not. No Emily.

  When I woke up on Monday morning — no Emily.

  I went to the playroom. I stared sadly into Emily’s cage.

  “Empty,” I said. A tear rolled down my cheek.

  At school that day, I was very sad. I hardly talked at all. I did not raise my hand. For show and Share, Natalie Springer brought in the mouse her brother had bought at the pet store.

  “His name is Delroy,” said Natalie. “He is a very nice pet.”

  I burst into tears. “Emily Junior was a nice pet, too,” I wailed. “And now she is gone. She is missing.” I blew my nose. “She is at large,” I added.

  * * *

  When I came home after school, I yelled, “Hey, Nannie? Any sign of Emily?”

  Nannie shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “Not a trace.” (I noticed that Nannie was wearing big, tall boots. And blue jeans.) “I certainly hope we find her soon,” Nannie added.

  “Me, too,” I said, trying not to cry.

  Later that afternoon I heard Kristy shout, “Oh, no!”

  I ran downstairs. “Did you find Emily?” I asked.

  “Nope. But the Bulb Thief has struck again. Look.” Kristy was standing at the front door. She pointed outside. She had just turned on the Christmas tree lights. A bunch of bulbs were missing.

  “Maybe they are loose,” I said. “Or maybe they burned out.” I put on my jacket. I went outdoors. The bulbs really were missing! Wow. Another mystery to solve. I ran back to Kristy. “The bulbs have been stolen,” I told her. “And I think the Bulb Thief is also a Rat Thief. I bet the same person who stole the light bulbs stole Emily Junior.”

  “Maybe,” said Kristy.

  I dashed to the telephone. I called Hannie. I told her about the thief. Then I said, “I have a plan. The thief strikes after dark. So tomorrow evening, let’s stake out the tree. We will find a good hiding place. Then we will spy. We will watch the tree until the thief comes to rob the bulbs again.”

  Hannie said she would come over at five o’clock. Then I called Nancy. She was interested in the thief, but she would not be able to come to the stakeout. The next night would be the third night of Hanukkah. I hoped Hannie and I could catch the thief ourselves.

  Caught!

  On Tuesday morning, Emily’s cage was still empty.

  On Tuesday afternoon, it was still empty.

  “Oh, well,” I said to Nannie. “Who cares? In a couple of hours we will catch the thief. Then I will have Emily back, and you will not have to wear those boots all day. I hope the thief will give back our light bulbs, too.”

  At a quarter to five, I began to get ready for the stakeout. I found a flashlight. I found Daddy’s Polaroid camera. I found a blanket to help keep Hannie and me warm. I tried to think what TV detectives bring on stakeouts. I remembered two important things. “Nannie?” I said. “Could I please have a box of doughnuts and a Thermos of coffee?”

  Nannie looked quite surprised, but all she said was, “Not before dinner, honey.”

  Guess what? Kristy came on the stakeout with Hannie and me. “You might need some help,” she said. “Besides, I want to catch the thief, too.”

  Kristy and Hannie and I hid in the garage. We turned off the light. Then we stood near the window. (We had opened the window so we could see better.) The fir tree was just outside the window.

  “When the thief comes,” I whispered, “we will snap his picture. Then we can prove who he is. And then we can get back Emily and the bulbs.”

  Hannie and my sister and I waited and waited. We huddled under the blanket. We were very quiet. We were patient, too. I bet we stood in the cold garage for a week or so. That is how I felt. My toes grew numb.

  Finally Hannie whispered, “Karen?”

  “SHHH!” I hissed. “I heard something.”

  We peered through the window. From out of the darkness tiptoed a figure. Someone else was behind him (or her). I held my breath. The figures began to unscrew our Christmas bulbs!

  Kristy nudged me in the side.

  Silently I lifted the camera.

  Click! Flash!

 
“Caught you!” I cried as the flash went off.

  The thieves started to run away, but Kristy said, “It’s a Polaroid camera, so you might as well stay here. In a few seconds we will know who you are.”

  Hannie turned on the light in the garage. Kristy ran into the yard. I watched the picture develop. “Hey, the thieves are — ”

  “PJ and Randall,” Kristy said. She was leading them into our spy headquarters. I knew PJ and Randall. They are big kids. They live over on Bertrand Drive. They go to my school. They are always in trouble. They are sister and brother. (PJ is the sister. Her real name is Polly Jean.)

  At that moment, Daddy came home from work. He drove to the garage. He pulled up just in time to see PJ and Randall empty the pockets of their jackets. Their pockets were full of bulbs from Christmas trees!

  “We caught the Bulb Thieves!” I announced. “Here is proof.” I showed Daddy the Polaroid picture.

  “We caught them red-handed,” added Hannie.

  “You certainly did,” replied Daddy. He turned to PJ and Randall.

  But before Daddy could say anything, I asked them the most important question of all: “Where is my rat?”

  “Huh?” said PJ and Randall.

  The Bulb Thieves had not stolen Emily Junior.

  On the Loose

  Daddy asked Randall and PJ to come inside with us.

  “Do we have to?” they whined. But they came in anyway.

  Then Daddy asked Randall and PJ to apologize for stealing, and for making everyone’s decorations look so stinky.

  “Sorry,” mumbled Randall and PJ.

  After that, Daddy called their parents.

  “Hello, Mr. Rivers?” he said. “This is Watson Brewer. Your children, PJ and Randall, were caught removing bulbs from our outdoor Christmas tree. I would appreciate your coming over here and taking them home.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Rivers drove right over. Boy, were they mad! Especially after they looked at the picture I had snapped.

  “You are grounded forever!” they said to Randall and PJ. (I do not think they meant that.)

  The Riverses went home. Hannie went home.

  Daddy said, “Karen, you are a wonderful detective.”

  “You solved the Mystery of the Vanishing Lights very quickly,” added Kristy.

  “Thank you,” I replied. But I did not feel happy. Emily was still missing. I had not solved my most important mystery.

  * * *

  After school the next day, the Three Investigators were back in business. Hannie and Nancy came over. First, we ate a snack with Kristy and Sam. We sat at the table in the kitchen. We ate slices of apple and pieces of cheese.

  When Sam finished, he stood up. “Well, I have homework,” he said.

  “Me, too,” said Kristy.

  “Just a minute,” said Nannie. “Please clean up the kitchen.”

  Sam and Kristy and Nancy and Hannie and I wiped off the table. We threw away our napkins. We put the leftover cheese in the refrigerator.

  “Thank you,” said Nannie.

  My friends and I moved to the den. A few minutes later we heard Nannie cry, “Now who is making messes?”

  “Come on, you guys,” I said to Hannie and Nancy. “Something is up.” We raced into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” I asked Nannie.

  Nannie pointed to the table. It was covered with crumbs!

  “It wasn’t us,” said Nancy. “We are innocent. Besides, we were not eating crumby food.”

  “This is a mystery,” I said solemnly. “Everybody think.”

  “Maybe Emily Michelle did it,” said Hannie. “She turned out to be the Cookie Thief.”

  “Emily is taking a nap,” replied Nannie.

  “Maybe,” I began slowly, “Somebody was stealing food for Emily Junior. The thief has to feed her.”

  Nancy shook her head. “A thief would not leave such a mess. I bet Emily Junior took the food herself.”

  “Oh, dear,” whispered Nannie. She looked at her feet. Luckily, she was still wearing her clompy boots and her blue jeans.

  “Uh-oh,” I said. “If Emily is on the loose, what about Boo-Boo? Emily might be Boo-Boo’s next meal.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Nannie again.

  “Nannie? Do you think Boo-Boo looks fatter than usual?” I asked.

  Nannie shook her head. “Of course not,” she answered.

  But I was not so sure. Boo-Boo is enormous no matter what.

  The Booby Trap

  On Wednesday night, we had a winter surprise. A blizzard! The wind blew and the snow fell. On Thursday we had a snow day No school. When I woke up, snow covered everything! We would have snow for Christmas. By the afternoon, the snowplows had been grinding around Stoneybrook. Hannie came to my house to play. Mrs. Dawes was able to drive Nancy over.

  As soon as the Three Investigators had gathered in my room, I said, “I have a plan. I know how we can catch the Rat Thief.”

  “You do?” said Hannie.

  “Yup. This is what I think. If PJ and Randall could steal our bulbs, then someone could steal Emily Junior. We set up a trap and we caught PJ and Randall. So we will set up another trap to catch the Rat Thief. We will set up a booby trap.”

  “Way cool!” exclaimed Hannie.

  “What kind of booby trap?” asked Nancy.

  “A food booby trap,” I replied. “See, I was thinking about the crumbs Nannie found on the kitchen table. Maybe they were left by the Rat Thief. Maybe he was stealing food for Emily and he heard Nannie coming, so he left in a hurry. He did not have time to clean up his mess.”

  “How do you know the thief is a ‘he’?” asked Hannie.

  I paused. “Well, I don’t,” I said. “The thief could be a ‘she.’ But it is easier to say ‘he’ than to say ‘he or she’ all the time. Anyway, this is my idea. The thief cannot keep raiding the kitchen. That is too risky. He might get caught. So I bet the thief will try to steal Emily’s rat pellets for her. They are in the playroom. All we have to do is booby-trap that bag of pellets and then spy on the playroom.”

  “Good idea,” said Nancy.

  We tied a string to the food bag. We fixed it so that if someone tried to open the bag it would fall over. Pellets would scatter everywhere! They would make a big mess and maybe some noise, too.

  “Now what?” asked Hannie.

  “Now we spy,” I answered.

  My friends and I tiptoed behind the couch. We were very quiet. We took turns peeping over the top of the couch. When we did that, we had a good view of Emily Junior’s bag of food pellets. We waited and spied and waited and spied.

  “This is boring,” said Hannie finally.

  “I will have to go home soon,” said Nancy.

  “My bottom is sore,” I added.

  Hannie and Nancy and I began to giggle. I stood up and rubbed my bottom. Then I said. “I better check our booby trap. I want to make sure it still works.”

  It worked, all right. I know because I tripped over the string and knocked the bag to the floor. Crash! Then whoosh — pellets everywhere.

  My friends helped me to clean up the mess. While we worked, I said. “You know, I sort of forgot that Emily could be running around behind the walls. I think we should look for a place where she went into the wall. We should look for her rat hole.”

  “Good idea,” said Nancy.

  At last the food pellets were back in the bag.

  “Let the search begin,” I said.

  The Rat Hole

  The Three Investigators investigated the playroom first.

  “What are we looking for?” asked Nancy.

  “Yeah,” said Hannie. “A rat hole like in the cartoons? A tunnel into the wall? With a sign hanging out front that says, ‘Attention, all cats. Rat in here’? And maybe a piece of cheese by the hole?”

  “Maybe we should follow Boo-Boo,” teased Nancy. “I bet he knows where Emily is. He could show us to the rat hole.”

  “Gimme a break,” I said. But I laughed. I liked my friends’ jo
kes. “No. We are just looking for any little crack or hole or opening that Emily could have slipped through to get inside the wall.”

  We stooped to our hands and knees. We crawled around on the floor.

  Hannie found an old chewed-up piece of gum. It was stuck to the wall behind a chair.

  “I bet David Michael did that,” I said.

  Nancy found the missing red piece from our checkers game.

  “Thank you!” I exclaimed.

  I found a dime.

  “Finders, keepers!” I cried. I stuffed the dime into my pocket.

  After awhile, Nancy said, “We have looked everywhere in here.” This was true. We had crawled around the entire room.

  “I did not see even a little crack,” added Hannie.

  “Move into the hallway, troops,” I ordered.

  We crawled into the hall. We ran our hands along the baseboard. We had almost reached Andrew’s room when Nancy cried, “Hey!”

  “What is it?” asked Hannie and I.

  “Look over here,” replied Nancy.

  We crawled next to Nancy. We could see little grayish-white things lying on the floor.

  “They look like tiny pieces of chewed-up paper towels,” I said. “Emily Junior likes to chew up paper towels. And those things look like crumbs!”

  “The crumbs lead over here,” said Hannie. “They make a trail.”

  We followed the trail along the hallway. The trail came to an end … by a crack in the baseboard! “Get a flashlight!” I shrieked.

  Nancy found my flashlight. We peered inside the crack.

  “I see more crumbs,” said Hannie.

  “This is it!” I cried. “The rat hole! Emily Junior must be in there!”

  Found!

  “We have to get Emily out!” I exclaimed. I leaned over to the crack. I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Hey, Emily Junior!” I yelled. “Come on out of there!”

  “Karen,” said Nancy, “if I were a rat, all that yelling would scare me.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Hannie. “We should do nice things to try to get Emily out.”