The Crazy Case of Missing Thunder (3 page)

And Kelly thinks pretty much everyone is suspicious. But I wouldn’t trade her for anybody. It was Kelly who finally guessed the real reason that pizzas were appearing all over town. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. But how did Kelly figure it out?

With that suspicious brain of hers.

Mrs. Bookman returned from the garden.

“Someday there will be a book about you kids in the mystery section,” she said.

Mara sighed. “If we ever get a new case.”

“We will,” I said. “And I’m writing in my cluebook for exactly that purpose.”

Kelly laughed. “For exactly what
porpoise
?”

“That’ll be a
whale
of a story,” Mara said.

“
Water
you talking about?” said Brian.

They all laughed at their silly puns.

“Goofballs,” Mrs. B. said.

“With bananas,” I added.

“Now I’m hungry,” said Mara. “Can we eat? Maybe something with cheese?”

“Great idea,” said Brian, setting the final pencil on his log cabin. “I’m actually working on a portable pizza machine so we can eat no matter where we are. I just haven’t worked out all the bugs yet.”

“Eew!” said Kelly. “Don’t put bugs on my pizza!”

“Come on, guys,” I said, slipping my cluebook into my jacket pocket. “Let’s head up to my house.”

Sparky led us as we biked, skateboarded, ran, and power walked back up the hill to my house for lunch. We skidded into the driveway together.

We tumbled right through the kitchen door.

Just in time.

To get … the phone call!

“I
t’s for you, Jeff,” my mom said when we all pushed into the kitchen. She held the phone out to me.

“Really?” I asked. “For me?” I glanced over at Brian, Mara, and Kelly. “Who could it be? All my friends are right here.”

“And we don’t even like you that much,” Brian said. “Just kidding.”

My mom shrugged. “Whoever it is, he’s very polite. He asked for the original Goofball.”

“That would be me,” I said.

“Maybe he’s got a case for us,” Kelly whispered, and she crossed her fingers.

I took the phone. “Hello?” I said.

“Is this a Goofball?” said the voice. “The
original
Goofball?”

The voice was deep and scratchy.
An old man
, I thought.

“The absolute number one Goofball,” I said, flipping open my cluebook. “Who is this?”

“You don’t know me,” the man said. “My name is Randall Crandall.”

Odd name,
I thought.
It rhymes.
I wrote it down.

“Go on, Mr. Crandall, sir,” I said.

There was something like a cough at the other end of the line. Then he said, “I read in the newspaper about the Incredible Pizza Disaster.”

“
Totally
Incredible, to be exact,” I said.

“Everyone knows how you saved that little restaurant,” he said. “Well, I have a case for you—”

“We’ll take it!” I blurted out. Then I caught myself. “I mean, please tell me more.”

“Something,” said the voice. “Or … someone … has disappeared. But I can’t tell you over the phone. Come to my house. I live on Woodview Avenue.”

I added the name to my notebook.

“What number on Woodview Avenue?” I asked.

Mr. Crandall took a deep breath and said, “Woodview Avenue is … my driveway.”

Click.

Mr. Randall Crandall hung up.

“Well?” said Brian, stuffing two paper napkins and a handful of toothpicks into the already bulging pockets of his cargo shorts.

“Well?” said Mara, staring through her glasses at the griddle on the counter.

“Well?” said Kelly. “What’s the case?”

“This man wants us to find something,” I said. “Or someone. I’m not exactly sure.”

“What did he say?” asked Brian. “Some
thing
or some
one
?”

“Actually, he said both,” I said, writing that in my cluebook, too.

“Sounds mysterious,” said Mara.

“And suspicious,” said Kelly, tugging on her curls. “The best mysteries are both.”

When I told my mom where the place was, her mouth dropped open and she sat at the table. “That’s the richest part of town, Jeff. I don’t know
anyone
who lives up there.”

I grinned. “Well, someone named Randall Crandall knows all about the Goofballs.”

My mother nodded. “Well, there
was
that newspaper article
and
the photo in the restaurant and all those
flyers
you put up around town. I guess you
are
pretty famous.”

“And also pretty famished,” said Mara, still staring at the griddle. “Can we eat before we go?”

We did eat. Grilled cheese. With pineapple slices on the side. Mara was happy.

Twenty minutes later, we were all belted into my mom’s SUV.

Brian sat next to Kelly but not next to me. I sat next to Mara but not next to Kelly. Mara sat next to Kelly but not next to Brian.

Mom didn’t sit next to any of us because she was driving.

Which was good because our legs were too short to reach the gas pedal.

And Mom needed the gas pedal to drive us to Woodview Avenue.

And the house of Randall Crandall!

W
e drove past the big woods and into the hills above Badger Point.

My mom made a right turn at the sign for Woodview Avenue and drove onto a long, winding road.

“Is this still the United States?” asked Brian, sticking his head out the car window.

“Will we have to stop for gas soon?” Kelly asked.

I looked back. “What a view! You can see the whole town from up here.”

“I can see the library,” said Mara. “Mrs. Bookman is watering her tulips.”

“Sure, but take a look at that!” said Brian, sticking his head out the other window.

And there it was. A house bigger than any house I had ever seen.

My mom made a sound like, “
Ohhhhhh
!”

Two rows of tall trees lined the road leading up to the front door, which stood at the top of a long flight of steps.

My mom stopped the car and breathed sort of funny. “I’ll stay here. I feel faint.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” I said. “We’ll try not to get lost.”

We walked to the foot of the staircase.

“Race you to the door!” said Mara.

“You’re on!” I cried.

We all ran up the stairs for the door. At the last second, Kelly’s arms went wild, Brian ducked sideways, Mara fell into me, and we all toppled into the front door.

At the exact moment it opened.

A super-tall man in a fancy black vest looked down at us.

“The Goofballs, I presume?” he said.

I tried to smile. “You presume correctly.”

“I am Picksniff, Mr. Randall Crandall’s butler,” the man said. “Please walk this way.”

But we couldn’t walk that way.

Picksniff had super-long legs, and we had to run to keep up with him.

First, there was an entrance hall, then some stairs, then another hall, then five doors, then even more stairs.

“This is like a tour of the White House!” Mara said in awe.

“Actually, the Crandall residence is
bigger
than the White House,” Picksniff said with a sniff as he hurried on.

“With more doors than a door store,” Kelly said, counting them as we passed. “I bet there’s something suspicious going on behind each one.”

“Or maybe something delicious going on,” whispered Mara.

Finally, after what seemed like half an hour, the butler stopped at a wide set of double doors.

“Wait in here,” he said. “Mr. Crandall will be with you shortly.”

He opened the doors for us, then hurried away on his long legs.

“Did that guy just call me ‘Shorty’?” whispered Brian.

“No,” said Mara, standing as tall as she could. “But I will.
Shorty!
”

Then we stepped inside the room.

And we all gasped with disbelief.

“Wow!” I said.

“It’s bigger than our school!” Kelly said.

“It’s bigger than Badger Point!” cried Mara.

“It’s bigger than the world!” Brian said.

“Wow!” I said again.

Large paintings in gold frames were hung all over the walls like in a museum. In the middle of the floor sat a rug that could cover my entire yard. Around it were a dozen large, soft chairs. Behind them stood a fireplace you could park a truck in. I fumbled for my cluebook and wrote some more notes.

I know. Not the greatest notes. But they were the best I could think of.

Along one whole wall were shelves of books crammed tighter than socks in a sock drawer.

“You can discover a lot about a person from his books,” said Kelly, power walking to the shelves. “And Randall Crandall has all the classics. Look.
The Molar Express
.”

“And
Charlotte’s Website
!” Brian said.

“Plus my favorite,” said Mara. “
The Magic School Bug
—”

“Welcome, Goofballs!”

We froze when we heard the voice. It was the deep voice I had heard on the phone. “Let me introduce myself. I am Randall Crandall.”

The moment we turned away from the bookshelves, one of the huge chairs slowly swiveled around to face us.

A person was sitting in it.

I blinked when I saw him.

One of the notes in my cluebook was completely wrong.

Randall Crandall wasn’t who I expected.

He wasn’t who I expected … at all!