The Desert Thieves (8 page)

“Okay,” Perez said. “I'll catch up with you later.”

Perez got out, and Joe drove to the Hardys' campsite. Fenton wasn't there. “Probably somewhere with Grish,” Joe said. They drove to the
office, where they found Grish at his desk, talking to Fenton, as they'd expected.

Fenton was in a good mood. “We've been having a great time, catching up on the old days,” he said. “I also ran a check of David Kidwell. It turns out that he may have been indirectly involved in cactus rustling up in Phoenix. Some of his workers used his company's equipment to steal some plants. Kidwell wasn't charged, but his company's reputation was destroyed, and he was ruined.”

“I was right, wasn't I?” Grish said. “He sounds more and more like our boy.”

“How about you guys?” Fenton asked. “Did you come up with anything?”

“Yeah,” Joe said. “It's been quite a day.” He and Frank related the events of the day to Fenton and Grish.

Grish took careful notes for his reports, and he seemed concerned to hear that someone had cut the Hardys' fuel line. “Why would anyone do such a thing?” he asked.

“My theory is they wanted to tell us there'd be trouble if we kept on investigating the case,” Frank said.

“Do you really think so?” Grish said. “Maybe it was only pranksters or kids doing some vandalism.”

“I doubt it,” Joe said. “The timing was too coincidental with what we were doing, keeping an eye on Kidwell.” He told Fenton and Grish about Perez's pretending to sneak up on Kidwell and instead meeting with him.

Grish's eyes grew wide at that. “You're kidding,” he said, a smile beginning to form. “Do you think Raymond Perez might be one of Kidwell's accomplices?”

“We're not sure,” Frank told him. “They seem to know each other, but we don't know what that means. There's another connection, though. Perez pointed out that the theft sites seem to be marked the same way hikers mark trails, with little piles of flat rocks.”

Grish looked thoughtful. “That's true,” he said. “I've got that somewhere in my notes, but I guess I forgot to mention it. What about it?”

“There was a marker like that at the spot where Professor Townsend was working today,” Joe said.

“And?” Grish said.

“And,” Joe continued, “that could mean there is going to be a theft there soon. And Townsend could be involved.”

Grish's eyebrows shot upward. “Good work!” he exclaimed, smiling broadly. To Fenton he said, “These boys of yours are really something, aren't they?”

“The apples don't fall far from the tree,” Fenton joked, and they all laughed.

Grish picked up a pencil and tapped it on his desk. “It's something to consider, about Townsend being involved,” he said. “But I'm still thinking the real culprit is Kidwell, and now maybe Raymond Perez, too. I think that's where we should focus.”

“There's a way to find out whether Townsend is
involved,” Joe said. “How about if Frank and I stake out the area where he was working today? A good-size hill overlooks it, so we could keep an eye on a larger area. We can take our sleeping bags and climbing gear in case we need it.”

“I don't like that idea, Joe,” Grish said, frowning. “It's one thing to walk around in the desert during daylight hours, but it's another to be up on a mountain at night where help can't get to you quickly if you slip and fall. I'd hate to be responsible for something like that.”

“But—” Joe said.

“The answer is no,” Grish said firmly. “Remember that I'm in charge here. What I think you guys should do this evening is keep an eye on Perez to see if he and Kidwell get together again.”

Joe looked to Frank and his father for help.

“Grish, I don't think you realize it,” Frank said, “but Joe and I are very experienced outdoorsmen and climbers.”

“I'm sure you are,” Grish said. “But as I said, I'm concerned about your safety. That's part of my job as head ranger. If we can find a solid connection between Perez and Kidwell, we'll have solved our case.”

“My own opinion,” Fenton said, “is that my sons and I should get out of your hair and let you get some work done. We'll get something to eat and check back with you in a little while about the next step in the investigation. Don't you agree?” He gave Frank and Joe a stern, fatherly look.

They took their cue and stood up. “See you later, Grish,” Joe said.

“Thanks, Fenton,” Grish said with a smile. “And thanks for your help, guys. I really do appreciate it. Keep an eye on Perez, and see if anything happens between him and Kidwell. That's the best help you can give me.”

Frank gave him a slight wave as he followed Fenton and Joe out the door. They got in the car and headed back to the campground.

“Dad,” Joe said as he drove, “you think the stakeout is a good idea, don't you?”

“I'm not sure,” Fenton said. “I don't think it's a bad idea, but we have some other strong leads as well. And Grish is probably right—there's some danger involved. Necessary danger is one thing, but I don't think this is necessary danger.”

“Look at it this way, Dad,” Frank said. “We need to know if Townsend is involved, right? The thefts have been occurring pretty frequently, so it seems likely the thieves will hit again tonight. If Townsend is involved, he may hit the place where he was working today.”

“He must be home now,” Joe said as he pulled into the Hardys' campsite and saw Townsend's truck in his site.

“Look at that!” Joe exclaimed. He pointed at the Hardys' motor home. The door was slightly open, and the edges of it were dented, as if someone had pried it open. “That door was fine a little while ago.”

Joe got out of the car, walked cautiously toward the motor home, and climbed the steps. Gently he pulled at the door. As it came open, he heard a noise. A menacing, deadly noise that made his skin crawl. Joe swung the door open and froze when he saw what was inside.

Gathering his wits, Joe shoved the door closed. “There's a rattlesnake in there!” he announced.

“What?” Fenton came over, eased the door open a crack, and peeked in. “You're right. It's coiled up about two feet inside the door, ready to strike. Worse luck, the broom is inside. Frank, ask around and see if you can borrow a broom—or anything with a long handle.”

While Frank went in search of a broom, Joe eased the door all the way open, careful to stand at arm's length in case the snake struck. Beside the snake was a burlap sack. “It looks as if someone set a bag inside with the snake in it,” he said. “They left the end of the bag open so the snake could crawl out.”

Raymond Perez came around the corner of the
motor home. “Hey, Joe,” he called out. “Hi, Mr. Hardy. What's up?”

Fenton held up a hand to stop him, and said, “We have a little problem here. You'd better stand back.”

“What is—” Perez began. Just then the snake's rattle buzzed, and Perez's jaw dropped. He walked up to the steps and asked Joe in a low voice, “Do you have a broom or a mop, anything with a long handle?”

“Frank is looking for one,” Joe said. “Stay away from the door.”

“I've worked with snakes before,” Perez said. “Why don't you—”

“Just butt out, Perez,” Joe said, jumping down the steps. “We'll take care of it.”

Frank came back with Diane, who was carrying a broom in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. “Here you go, Joe,” Frank said. “I caught Diane while she was cooking.”

“I have a way with snakes,” Perez said, grabbing the broom from Diane and ducking past Joe.

“Perez!” Joe yelled. “Don't be stupid.”

Perez opened the door and grinned at the snake. “Hey, little fella,” he said. “These big monster people got you scared?” He eased the business end of the broom over the snake until the straw touched the floor beyond it. Then he swept the snake toward the door. The snake shook its rattles furiously but did not strike as it slid across the floor.

“Everybody stand back,” Perez said. With one quick sweep, he flicked the snake out the door and onto the ground. It recoiled, ready to strike, its tail emitting a mean-sounding buzz.

“What we need now,” Perez said, “is something like a long soup spoon. Got one of those on you, anyone? Diane?”

Diane handed him a wooden spoon.

“Now, watch this,” Perez said. In a voice like an announcer's, he boomed out, “Do not try this at home, ladies and gentlemen. This is being done by a trained professional!” He poked the broom at the snake. It struck at the straw, and he pushed it aside. Then Perez reached down and pressed the spoon against the back of the snake's head, pinning it to the ground. The snake's body writhed as it tried to get its head free from the spoon.

Perez grasped the snake behind the head and picked it up. The body coiled and writhed around his arm as he lifted it high.

“Say, Mr. Snake,” Perez said playfully, turning the snake's face toward him, “nice fangs you got there. I hope you brush every day.”

“Very funny,” Joe said. He picked up the burlap sack and opened it. “Let's put him in here,” he said, “while he's waiting for the dentist.”

Perez dropped the snake into the sack. “Actually,” he said, “that little guy is very dangerous. I know it seemed like I was playing around, but I've handled lots of snakes and I know what I'm doing.
I'm glad one of you didn't get bitten before you saw him.”

“So are we,” Fenton said. He picked up the wooden spoon and handed it and the broom to Diane.

“Yeah, Perez,” Joe said. “Thanks for the lecture. By the way, you guys, whoever left the snake also left us a note.” He reached inside the motor home and pulled out a large piece of paper with bright green lettering that read, “Hardys, get out!”

“Somebody's not a happy camper,” Frank said.

Diane's chin dropped. “What? Do you mean somebody would . . .? On purpose? I can't believe it.”

“Neither can we,” Fenton said, taking the sack from Perez. “I think we should let this little fellow go in the desert, but I want to report this incident to the office first.” Tying a knot in the end of the sack, he said, “I'll be back in a few minutes.” He got into the car and drove off.

“Who would put a rattlesnake in your RV?” Diane asked.

“Don't you know?” Perez said.

Diane's cheeks colored with anger. “Are you suggesting that I put it there?” she said.

“Not necessarily you,” Perez said. “But your father doesn't exactly like Frank and Joe, does he?”

Diane's eyes grew wide. “I—I can't believe you would say something like that,” she stammered. Then she turned and stormed off toward her trailer.

Perez grinned. “I guess I could have been more diplomatic,” he said.

“Look,” Joe said, “thanks for helping with the snake, but I think you'd better go.”

“But I—” Perez began.

“We've had enough excitement for the moment,” Joe continued. “Now we've got things to do.”

“Like what?” Perez asked.

“Maybe you should take advantage of the sunset and snap some cactus photos in the pink light,” Frank said. “We'll catch you in the morning.”

Perez hesitated, his eyes on Frank.

Frank nodded and said, “We'll see you tomorrow, Perez.”

Perez finally shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said. “See if I help you out of any more snake predicaments. Actually, snakes aren't the most dangerous creatures in the desert. People are. Keep your ears open tonight. We may catch those cactus rustlers yet.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Joe said sarcastically. After Perez had gone, Joe continued. “Whoever is trying to interfere with us is messing with the wrong guys. I think we should stake out Kidwell, Townsend, Perez, those guys in the yellow van—everybody.”

Frank laughed. “Calm down,” he said. “There are only two of us, and it might be hard to do all those stakeouts at once. Besides, who are the guys in the yellow van?”

“You're right,” Joe said. “I'm just spouting off. I'll tell you what, though. I think we should stake out you-know-who.” He nodded toward Professor Townsend's trailer. “We could load up our gear as soon as Dad gets back and have him give us a ride to that spot where Townsend was working today. We can sit up on that high cliff and keep an eye on the whole area.”

“And what happens,” Frank said, “if we're perched up there and we witness the thieves in action?”

“We'll take the CB, of course,” Joe said.

Frank thought it over. “Good idea,” he said. “I'll get the gear together. You grab some food and the sleeping bags.”

Frank carried the coiled climbing ropes from the motor home and laid them out on the ground. As he checked them over, he could hear the professor's angry voice from inside the Townsends' trailer. Frank remembered what Perez had said to Diane about her father being responsible for the snake incident. He promised himself he would apologize to her tomorrow. He could see Perez, a dozen camp spaces away, looking toward the Townsends' trailer as if he, too, could hear the professor's voice.

At that moment Professor Townsend banged open the door to his camper and stomped off toward the rest rooms.

Perez jogged over to Frank. When he saw the climbing gear and sleeping bags, he said, “Are you
guys gonna do some climbing? I've done a lot of stuff, but I never learned to climb. Could you show me how? I won't be in the way.”

“Another time, Perez,” Frank said. “It's getting late, and we want to get out of here soon.”

Diane popped her head out of the trailer. As soon as she saw Perez, she slammed the door shut.

Frank wondered if she had wanted to talk to him and Joe. “See you tomorrow, Perez,” he said. “We couldn't possibly take an inexperienced climber on an evening climb. Too dangerous. Good night.” Then he stepped into the motor home, where Joe was rummaging through the cupboards.