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The Sweetest Heist in History Page 2
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Fortunately, there was a single ray of sunshine breaking through Randi’s dark mood. It was Saturday night, and Thanksgiving break would begin on Tuesday. That’s when she and her dad were heading to Brooklyn. Randi’s aunt Gigi had been working overseas for the past year. But now she was back in New York, and she had invited the Rhodes family to stay with her over the long weekend. Randi had been looking forward to the trip for months. Her mother’s younger sister, Gigi, was fun, energetic, and just a little bit crazy—the perfect aunt, in other words. She’d already promised to take Randi to visit the dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History, the mummies at the Brooklyn Museum, and the criminals at the Museum of the American Gangster.
But the trip wasn’t just a holiday for Randi. Brooklyn was where her mother was buried, and it had been almost six months since Randi had visited her grave. She had so much to tell her mom. About her new life and new friends. About the cases she’d solved and the Miss Catfish crown that she’d won. Randi wished more than anything that she could have one last afternoon with her mom. She daydreamed about walking past the old house on Bergen Street and finding her mother waiting on the stoop to greet her. Sometimes Randi missed her so badly that her whole body hurt.
~ ~ ~ ~
Randi hit the brakes at the end of her driveway, sending a spray of gravel into the bushes. The lights in the house were blazing. Randi checked her watch. It was almost eight thirty. She was exactly two hours late for dinner. As she climbed the stairs to the front door, she prepared herself for the lecture she was bound to receive.
“There you are!” Mei-Ling called out with a smile when Randi stepped through the door. She was a small woman in her early seventies with long silver hair. Mei-Ling might have had a gentle manner and a charming Chinese accent, but Randi knew she could be tough as nails. She had come to stay with the Rhodeses after they’d moved to Deer Creek. Now she was part of the family. Mei-Ling was in charge of the house. And when she cooked one of her fabulous meals, she expected both Rhodeses to be home on time to enjoy it.
“I’m making your favorite—catfish dumplings!” Mei-Ling bustled back to the stove and began dishing dumplings from a pan.
“You guys haven’t eaten yet?” Randi asked. Something very strange was going on.
“We’ve been waiting for you.” Randi’s dad had emerged from his study. He gave his daughter a peck on the top of her head.
Randi stared up at her father. She might have inherited her mom’s curly red hair, but she’d gotten everything else from her dad. They were both tall and lanky, with expressive faces that made it hard for them to conceal their feelings. And Randi could tell that her father had something he was trying to hide.
“Everything okay here?” she asked cautiously.
“What do you mean?” Herb asked innocently as he chose a chair at the table. “Of course everything’s okay! Have a seat. You must be starving.”
Randi plopped down in a seat opposite her father’s. “You’re acting kinda weird. Are you sure this isn’t about the bank heist?”
“Bank heist?” her father asked with one eyebrow raised. “I thought you were going to try to stay out of trouble.”
“I don’t have any choice,” Randi grumbled. “I’ve been looking all over for it, but there’s no place to find trouble in this Podunk town.”
Herb Rhodes would usually defend Deer Creek to the death. But this time, he chose not to argue. That’s when Randi began to get nervous. Then Mei-Ling joined them at the table and kept her eyes on the dumplings she was serving the three of them. Something had happened. Her father and Mei-Ling both knew what it was.
Randi pushed her plate back. “Okay, spill it, you two,” she demanded. “Tell me the big secret right now or I’m going on a hunger strike.”
“Great. That will leave more dumplings for the rest of us,” Herb joked weakly.
“Come on, Dad,” Randi prodded.
Herb set his fork down. “Okay. You know how the new book is doing unexpectedly well?”
Randi nodded. Her father’s latest novel wasn’t even in stores yet and it was already the hottest book around. Readers were thrilled that the author of the Glenn Street books had finally written a novel for young people. And it didn’t hurt that The Ninja Detectives was rumored to be based on a true story.
“It’s doing so well that my publisher wants me to go on tour.”
“That’s fantastic!” Randi exclaimed. She’d been expecting terrible news.
“Starting on Tuesday,” Herb added.
“Wait. This Tuesday?” Randi asked.
“Yes,” Herb confirmed.
“No. No, you can’t!” Randi said. She could already hear a note of desperation creeping into her voice. “It’s Thanksgiving. We’re going to Brooklyn, remember? You’ve got to tell them that the tour has to wait—or that you won’t be able to make it.”
“Randi.” Her father leaned across the table and tried to take her hand, but she jerked it away before he was able. “Work with me on this one, kiddo. You’re the one who convinced me to come out of retirement. Now that I’m a writer again, going on book tours is a big part of the job. My publisher says this one is very important. I can’t tell them no.”
Randi balled her napkin up in her fist. “You can’t say no to them, but you’re happy to say no to me. I’ve been waiting for this trip for months. But that doesn’t matter to you, does it?”
“Of course it does!” Herb said. “We can try to make it up North for Christmas.”
“Try?” Randi spat.
Herb hung his head. “I can’t make any promises. I have a responsibility to my readers.”
“Randi.” Mei-Ling’s voice usually soothed her, but this time she could feel the tears coming, and she needed to leave before they started to fall.
Randi threw her napkin down on the table and stood up, pushing her chair back so violently that it almost toppled over.
“I thought you’d changed,” she told her father. Then she stomped up the stairs to her room.
~ ~ ~ ~
Almost two years had passed since her mother’s death, and Randi and her dad were right back where they’d started. When Randi was little, her father had often seemed more like a favorite guest than a regular dad. He was always off on one book tour or another. In those days, Randi hadn’t minded much. She’d had her mom, after all. And they’d always stayed busy while her dad was away. There were always parks to explore and brownies to bake and school projects to finish. Then one day Randi’s world had crashed down around her.
Herb Rhodes had been on a book tour in Europe when they’d found out that Randi’s mom was sick. He’d sworn he would never leave his family behind again. Now Randi was all that was left of his family. They’d moved to Deer Creek to live a simpler life. Not even six months had passed and the famous Herb Rhodes had already broken his promise.
There was a knock at the door. “Randi?” Mei-Ling poked her head inside.
Randi buried her head in a pillow. She could hear Mei-Ling set a plate down on her dresser. As miserable as she was, the smell of catfish dumplings made Randi’s mouth water.
“Go away,” Randi grumbled.
She felt Mei-Ling sit down on the bed. She expected a lecture or a pep talk, but Mei-Ling held her tongue. Instead, she rubbed Randi’s back while the tears soaked her pillow.
“You know what’s funny?” Randi asked through her sobs.
“What?” Mei-Ling replied in her steady, soothing voice.
“Dad once told me that my mom was his inspiration for the Glenn Street books, and I figured he was just making stuff up. I mean, if he thought my mom was so interesting, why didn’t he try to spend more time with her?”
“I think Herb wonders about that too,” Mei-Ling confided. “I suspect he might act differently if he had the chance to live those years over again.”
“You sure? ’Cause now he’s doing the same thing to me that he did to her.”
“What do you mean?” Mei-Ling asked.
“Don’t you see? That stupid book he just wrote is about me. That’s what Herb Rhodes does, Mei-Ling. He sticks people in novels so he doesn’t have to deal with them. I’m not really his daughter anymore. I’m just another one of his characters now.”
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
* * *
DOUBLE TROUBLE
Randi was up at the crack of dawn. It wasn’t even seven o’clock when she hopped on her bike and headed for the hideout. A frost had visited the mountains, and the grass along the road sparkled in the morning light. She could hear the river burbling beside her and a crow cawing overhead. She pedaled down the center of the road, knowing she wouldn’t pass a car the entire ride. It was Sunday morning, and the town of Deer Creek was fast asleep.
The ninja detectives’ hideout and official headquarters was located in a shack behind D.C.’s house on the edge of Guyton Orchard. In the summer, the little building was hard to spot among the apple trees. But the orchard’s leaves had fallen in early October. Now that winter was creeping closer, the hideout was no longer hidden.
The padlock on the door caught Randi’s eye before she hopped off her bike. It was open and dangling from the door like a one-armed monkey. Someone was inside. A few months back, it wouldn’t have mattered. The only things a thief would have found inside the shack were Bruce Lee posters and empty Capri Sun pouches. But the town of Deer Creek had been generous after the kids had saved the founders’ treasure. Now each of them had a state-of-the-art computer and all the detective tools they could want. They kept most of their new equipment locked up in the hideout.
Randi tiptoed to the door of the shack. As long as the intruder wasn’t armed, she had the advantage. There wasn’t anyone in Deer Creek, Tennessee, who could match her Tae Kwon Do skills.
“Freeze!” she shouted, throwing the door open so hard that it slammed against the side of the shed.
The person inside screamed. A carton flew in the air, flinging chocolate milk across the room.
“Randi!” Pudge yelped. “You nearly scared me to death! What are you doing here so early?”
Randi put her fists down and waited until her heart was thumping at a normal speed. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Pudge picked up a roll of paper towels and began sopping up the chocolate milk. “I got up early and sneaked out of the house before my dad could give me any chores. After last night, I needed some peace and quiet,” he said. “I can’t believe my bratty sisters nearly screwed up our surveillance.”
“It’s okay,” Randi replied, dropping down into a beanbag chair. “Turns out it was a big setup anyway. Did D.C. tell you who the thief was?”
“Amber-Grace. He said the sheriff let her off the hook, too. Guess justice wasn’t served.”
“You can say that again,” Randi grumbled. “This town is a detective’s nightmare. I can’t believe we both have to live here.”
“Well, at least you have your trip to Brooklyn to look forward to,” Pudge said, trying to cheer her up.
“Not anymore,” Randi said. “My dad decided he’d rather go on a book tour. I’m staying here for the holiday.”
“Oh.” Pudge grimaced. “That stinks. But at least you won’t be trapped in a minivan with three screaming girls for fourteen hours.”
Pudge and his entire family were going up North to spend Thanksgiving with their grandmother.
“Is that how long it takes to get to Boston?” Randi asked.
“If we’re lucky,” Pudge said. “Depends on how many bathroom breaks and food stops we make on the way. My dad won’t let anyone eat in the car, so it takes a million years to get anywhere. The whole ride is going to be painful. Whenever we go on a trip, my dad always puts me in charge of Maya, Laeleah, and Sasha. I’m supposed to make sure they don’t get in trouble. Then they do, and I’m the one who gets yelled at.”
“At least your dad cares enough to get mad at you.” D.C. pushed through the door and into the hideout. He was wearing a black martial arts uniform called a dobok, which Randi had given him. He’d grown since he’d gotten it, and there were a few inches of bare skin between the hem of his pants and the top of his shoes. As usual, D.C.’s messy black hair was held back by a yellow Tae Kwon Do belt. The rims of his eyes were red, and two of his knuckles were scraped up. When D.C. got mad, he liked to put on his dobok and punch apple trees.
“Uh-oh,” Pudge muttered under his breath. The signs were unmistakable. Something truly terrible had happened.
Randi stayed silent, but she felt her stomach twist into a knot. D.C. had been talking about his dad nonstop for a month. He hadn’t seen his father in years—not since his parents had divorced when he was in the fourth grade. But in early October, he’d gotten an unexpected phone call. His dad was driving down to Tennessee around Thanksgiving. He wanted to visit the orchard to see his boy.
D.C. had immediately begun preparing for the visit, and his friends had pitched in to help. Windows that hadn’t seen a rag in years were washed until they sparkled. The old red barn beside the Cruzes’ farmhouse received a coat of fresh paint. D.C. had spent hours practicing his Tae Kwon Do kicks and punches with Randi, hoping to impress his black-belt dad.
“What happened?” Randi finally asked, dreading the answer.
D.C. kicked the wall of the shed.
“Hey,” Pudge said softly. “Don’t take it out on the hideout.”
D.C. punched the door in response. “My dad isn’t coming. He told me he had to cancel the trip because he couldn’t get out of work.”
Randi wrapped an arm around the boy and gave him a squeeze. “I know just how you feel. My dad just canceled our trip to New York because he has to work, too,” she said.
“Yeah, but I bet your dad was telling the truth,” D.C. replied. “He probably does have to work. Mine just has better things to do than hang out with me.”
D.C. pulled a folded-up sheet of paper out of his dobok and passed it to Randi. It was an announcement for a martial arts tournament being held in Brooklyn over Thanksgiving weekend.
“I don’t get it,” Randi said. “What’s this supposed to mean?”
“My dad lives in New Jersey. Brooklyn’s less than an hour away. After he told me he’d canceled his trip, I put his name into Google. I found out he’s going to be a judge at that tournament. He lied to get out of seeing me.”
D.C. crossed his arms and bit his lower lip. Randi could tell he was trying not to cry.
“I’m really sorry, D.C.,” said Pudge.
“Well,” Randi told him, “at least we’ll be stuck in Deer Creek together.”
“And I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I wish I could be stuck here, too,” Pudge said.
The ninja detectives were busy feeling sorry for themselves when they heard the first ear-piercing scream.
“Puuuuuuuuddddddggeee!”
A second voice joined in. “Help! Pudge! Help!” The cries seemed to be coming from right outside the shack.
The three ninjas were out the door in less than a second. In the orchard, there was nothing to see but trees, rotten apples, and dead leaves. Then a new round of screams directed their attention to the giant oak that stood a few feet from the hideout. A wooden platform had been built into the tree’s upper reaches. D.C. called it his crow’s nest. He’d built a rope and pulley system that he used as an elevator to reach the top. But the rope was lying in a useless pile on the ground. Even worse, high up in the branches, a little girl was dangling upside down, her right foot trapped in the narrow space between two branches. The girl’s long pink coat had fallen over her head. She couldn’t see anything—and all that the ninjas could see of her was her jeans and her arms, which were flailing wildly as she screamed in terror.
A second girl was crouched on a branch by the first girl’s trapped foot. She seemed to have given up trying to help. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she shouted for her brother.
“Puuuuuuuuddddddggeee!”
> “I’m coming!” he shouted. “Hold tight, Laeleah.”
Pudge handed D.C. his phone. “Call my dad and call the fire department.”
“What on earth . . . ?” D.C.’s mom had heard the screams and come running outside in her nightgown. “Oh my Lord. Everyone stay put. I’ll get the ladder!”
As she rushed back toward the barn, Pudge refused to wait. He threw the fallen rope over his shoulder and began scaling the tree. In her entire life, Randi had never seen anyone climb so quickly. He had reached the two girls in less than a minute. Randi watched as Pudge tied the rope into a lasso.
“Colonel Taylor and the fire department are on the way.” D.C. had rushed back to Randi’s side. “Is there anything we can do?”
Randi pointed to a blue plastic tarp that was covering up a hole in the hideout’s roof. “Grab the tarp,” Randi said. “We can hold it under the tree. We won’t be able to catch her, but we might be able to break her fall a bit.”
Up in the tree, Pudge had lowered the lasso he’d made. “Take the rope and put your arms through it,” he told his upside-down sister.
D.C. returned with a blue tarp, which he and Randi stretched out beneath the dangling child.
“How? I can’t see anything!” the girl shrieked.
“Take off your coat,” Pudge said. “Let it drop to the ground.”
The girl did as she was told. The coat hit the left side of the tarp and slid off. Randi shivered and adjusted her stance so the little girl would have a better chance of landing in the center of the tarp if she fell.
“Now take the rope. It’s right in front of you,” Pudge said, keeping his voice nice and calm. “You’re going to be fine, Laeleah. As long as you do exactly what I tell you.”
Laeleah grabbed at the rope circle.
“Now take the loop and make it tight around your chest.” Pudge passed his end of the rope over a branch just above the spot where he was working. Slowly, he began to pull the girl upright. Laeleah was almost parallel to the ground when her foot suddenly slipped out of her shoe. Her twin sister shrieked and D.C. gasped. Randi held the tarp as tightly as she could. Above, the girl plunged toward the ground with a scream that made goose bumps erupt on Randi’s skin. Then the rope around the child’s chest jerked violently. Pudge’s lasso had broken Laeleah’s fall, and somehow he’d managed to keep the other end of the rope in his hands. His face ashen, he slowly lowered Laeleah to safety. Seconds later, D.C.’s mother arrived with the ladder, and Pudge helped his other sister Maya out of the tree.