The Quicksand Question (3 page)

BOOK: The Quicksand Question
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The kids thanked Jake and left.

“That guy could have been the robber!” Ruth Rose said.

“I think so, too,” Dink said. “The thief would have to be big to carry that duck filled with coins.”

“Now can I get a milkshake?” Josh asked. “Please? I’m starving!”

“If you promise not to slurp and embarrass us,” Dink said.

With Pal tugging on his leash, they walked to Ellie’s Diner. They sat in a booth by the windows. Pal crawled
under the table and rested his head on Josh’s feet.

“Hi, kids,” Ellie said. She brought Pal a bowl of water and patted him on the head.

Then she pulled out her pad. “What’ll it be? Our specials are slug stew and spider spaghetti.”

“Yum,” Ruth Rose said, “but Josh simply
has
to have a milkshake.” She pulled the ET CO wood from her back pocket and laid it on the table.

“What’s that?” asked Ellie.

“It’s a clue,” Ruth Rose said. “Did you hear about the duck bank? It got stolen last night!”

“Go on!” Ellie said. She sat next to Dink. “Tell me everything!”

The kids told Ellie about the fire, the speeding jeep, and what they’d learned from Jake at the firehouse.

“This came from the fire,” Ruth Rose
said, touching the chunk of wood. “We’ve been trying to figure out what ET CO stands for.”

Ellie picked up the wood and examined the letters. Suddenly she smiled and handed it back to Ruth Rose. “Well, that part of the mystery I can solve. Come on out back,” she said.

“Stay,” Josh told Pal. Then the kids followed Ellie behind the counter, through the kitchen, and out the back door.

Ellie walked over to a small wooden platform lying on the ground. It was made of narrow boards that had been nailed across thicker ones.

“I’ve seen those before,” Josh said. “When my dad ordered a bunch of bricks, they came loaded on one of these things.”

“It’s called a pallet,” Ellie said.

“Look!” Ruth Rose said. She pointed
to words stamped into the pallet boards:
EASTERN PALLET COMPANY
.

Ruth Rose held her partly burned piece of wood next to the words. The black printing was identical.

“Where do they make these things?” Dink asked.

“Beats me,” Ellie said. “This one came from the supermarket. I’m using the wood to build a fence around my garden.”

“Could anyone get one?” Ruth Rose asked.

Ellie shrugged. “I guess. I talked to the store manager, a guy named Derek Robb. So do you still want milkshakes?”

“Yes!” Josh said. He led the way back into the diner.

The kids gave Ellie their orders, then slid back into the booth.

Ruth Rose leaned toward Dink and Josh. “I’ll bet the crook used pallets from the supermarket to start the fire!” she said.

“If he did, maybe Derek Robb remembers him!” Dink said.

“So let’s go ask,” Ruth Rose suggested.

“Can we
please
drink our milkshakes first?” Josh asked.

After the kids had finished their milkshakes, they left Ellie’s and walked back up Main Street to Green Lawn’s supermarket.

Josh tied Pal’s leash to a bike rack. “We’ll be right back,” he told his dog.

Inside, Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose walked through the fruit and vegetable section. Tall pyramids of oranges and apples gleamed under the lights.

They stood next to a mountain of watermelons and glanced around the store. A lot of people were shopping, and a lot of workers were scurrying
about. All the store employees wore dark pants, green aprons, and white shirts.

Dink walked over to a woman with curly brown hair. She was arranging bags of grapes into a display. A name tag pinned to her apron said
HI! I’M JUDY.

Dink asked her where the manager’s office was.

“Go to the rear of the store,” Judy said, pointing. “It’s the red door just left of the meat department.”

The kids followed her directions, and Dink knocked on the door.

“Come in!” a voice boomed.

Ruth Rose opened the door and the kids walked in. The office was cluttered with filing cabinets, boxes of damaged canned goods, and a wooden desk covered with papers.

Behind the desk sat a smiling man in a shirt and tie.
DEREK ROBB
was printed on a nameplate on his desk.

“Hi there,” the man said. “How can I help you kids?”

“Someone set a fire in the meadow behind my barn last night,” Josh said. “We think whoever set it used pallets from this store.”

Ruth Rose showed Mr. Robb the chunk of burned wood.

Mr. Robb examined the letters ET CO. “Yep, looks the same,” he said. “A lot of our merchandise comes stacked on these things.”

“Did you give any pallets to a tall
man a couple of days ago?” Dink asked.

Mr. Robb smiled. “People who want pallets usually just take them,” he said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Mr. Robb led the kids out of his office. They passed a long wall covered with framed photographs of employees. Dink recognized Judy, the woman who’d given him directions.

“Right through here,” Mr. Robb said, pushing through a wide pair of swinging doors. “Watch out for the forklifts!”

The kids found themselves in a giant room filled with workers, boxes, and noise. Men and women were unpacking crates and loading stuff on carts.

“Look,” Josh said. A yellow forklift stopped near a bunch of boxes stacked on a pallet. The driver pulled a lever, and the forklift’s two arms lowered. The truck moved forward, and the arms
slid under the pallet. The driver moved the lever again, and the arms raised the pallet of boxes off the floor.

Suddenly the forklift began to back up, beeping. The kids and Mr. Robb stepped back as the forklift carried the pallet to the other end of the room.

“Cool!” Josh said. “I wish I had one of those things.”

Mr. Robb chuckled. “They’re pretty expensive, kiddo. Now follow me.” He led the kids to a tall, wide opening like a garage door.

“If you go down those steps,” Mr. Robb said, pointing, “you’ll see a stack of pallets on the ground. Folks stop by and take them all the time. They break ’em up for firewood, whatever.”

“So anyone could just come and take one,” Dink said, “at any time?”

“That’s right,” said Mr. Robb. “Even in the middle of the night.”

“Well, at least we know where the thief got the wood for the fire,” Ruth Rose said.

The kids were outside again, standing between the supermarket and the fire station.

“So where did the guy take the duck bank in his jeep?” Josh asked. “Mr. Pocket said he was on Main Street, but we don’t know which direction he was going.”

“Yes, we do,” Ruth Rose said.

Josh looked at her. “Ruth Rose, the
guy could have been heading north or south.”

Ruth Rose shook her head. “He couldn’t have been heading south,” she said. “Mr. Pocket told us the jeep passed him on the corner of Indian Way Road. If it was coming from the fire station, the jeep had to be going north.”

“She’s right,” Dink said. “And north is toward River Road.”

Josh looked in that direction. “So when he got to River Road, he either turned right toward Blue Hills, or left toward Hartford.”

“Let’s go talk to Mr. Pocket,” Ruth Rose suggested. “He might remember which way the jeep turned.”

“Where do we find him?” Dink asked.

“He lives at number 10 Indian Way Road,” Ruth Rose said.

Josh laughed and shook his head.
“How can you remember stuff like that?” he asked.

Ruth Rose just smiled.

The kids collected Pal from the bike rack, and then they cut behind the fire station to Indian Way Road.

Number 10 was a small gray-shingled house behind a white fence. Rosebushes filled the yard and drooped over the fence. A stone path led from the gate to the porch, where Mr. Pocket was sitting in a rocking chair. Randolph was on his lap.

“Well, hello again,” the elderly man called out.

“Hi,” Dink said, standing at the gate. “We had some questions about the jeep you saw last night. Could we talk to you?”

“Of course,” Mr. Pocket said. “Come on in! Mind the roses—those thorns love arms and legs!”

Dink opened the gate and the kids stepped through.

“Would you mind closing it behind you?” Mr. Pocket called. “Randolph thinks he can go exploring without me!”

Ruth Rose smiled at Mr. Pocket. She pulled the gate shut and made sure the latch snapped into place.

The kids walked carefully past the rosebushes and joined Mr. Pocket on his porch. Pal looked up at Randolph and wagged his tail.

“Okay Randolph, you can visit your friend,” Mr. Pocket said. He set his dog on the porch near Pal.

Then he stood and removed a bunch of newspapers from a long bench. “Please sit,” he told the kids.

The kids lined up on the bench and Mr. Pocket dropped back into his chair.

A pair of eyeglasses lay on a low table next to the chair. Mr. Pocket put
on his glasses and smiled at the kids. “Now, please tell me what’s going on,” he said. “Why all the interest in this jeep?”

The kids told Mr. Pocket about the money being collected, the fire, and the theft of the duck bank.

“That wasn’t a passenger you saw in the seat next to the driver,” Dink said. “It was the duck bank.”

“Well, I’ll be pickled!” Mr. Pocket said. “I remember thinking it was strange how the moon reflected off his face. And all the time, it was a plastic duck!”

“Um, you wouldn’t happen to know which way he turned on River Road?” Dink said. “Did he have a blinker on?”

Mr. Pocket shook his head. “Nope. Didn’t have any lights on at all. That’s why I didn’t see him till he almost ran over my toes!”

Mr. Pocket leaned forward. “And if you want my opinion, the driver never meant to turn on River Road,” he said. “I truly believe he aimed his jeep straight for the river!”

Dink gulped. “Right into the water?” he said.

The old man nodded. “Yep. Unless that jeep knew how to fly.”

“That would explain why the guys in
the fire truck didn’t pass the jeep,” Dink said.

“I’d like to make a donation for your duck bridge,” Mr. Pocket said. He fished a small leather pouch from his pocket and took out four quarters. He leaned over and handed them to Josh. “Always liked ducks.”

“Thanks a lot, sir,” Josh said as he accepted the money. “If we find the bank, I’ll put it in for you.”

The kids and Pal left Mr. Pocket sitting on his porch with his dog. They walked to the corner of Main, then turned left and headed for the river.

Between the edge of River Road and the water, there was a patch of weeds. Some of them were crushed flat, lying toward the river.

When the kids were close enough, they realized that there were actually two flattened strips, side by side.

Josh bent over the smashed grass.
“They sure look like tire tracks to me,” he said. “Mr. Pocket was right!”

Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose sat and looked out over the river. Pal put his front feet in the river and began lapping up water. Josh held the leash so Pal couldn’t go out any farther.

“Could the jeep drive right across the river?” Ruth Rose asked.

“Sure,” Josh said. “On TV I’ve seen guys in jeeps plow right through water deeper than this.”

“We should go look on the other side for more tracks,” Dink said.

Josh frowned. “But how do we—”

“Look,” Dink interrupted, pointing to a flat-bottomed rowboat coming down the river. The man rowing the boat seemed too big for it, like a grown-up sitting on a kid’s bike. The man rowed slowly, peering over the sides into the water as he moved.

The boat slowed, then stopped. The
man removed one of the oars from the oarlock. He began poking the oar into the water. He did it several times, on both sides of the boat.

Then the man set the oar back into the oarlock. He stretched a long arm into the water. He paused a moment, then suddenly laughed.

The man splashed some water onto his face and head. He shook his hair like a wet dog, grabbed both oars, and began rowing for the opposite shore.

When he reached land, he got out and dragged the boat behind him. The man and the boat disappeared into the trees.

“Did you see how big that guy was?” Dink asked.

“Not only that,” Josh said. “Did you notice his ears? Mushrooms!”

BOOK: The Quicksand Question
13.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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