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Authors: Patricia Reilly Giff

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The Riddle of the Red Purse

BOOK: The Riddle of the Red Purse
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The Riddle of the Red Purse
Patricia Reilly Giff
Illustrated by Blanche Sims

Love and welcome to

Jeanne Patricia Lyons born August 9, 1986

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

A Biography of Patricia Reilly Giff

CHAPTER 1

M
S.
R
OONEY WAS
writing on the board.

Dawn Bosco crossed her fingers.

She saw Linda Lorca cross hers too.

“Paper monitor,” Ms. Rooney wrote. “Sherri Dent.”

Good. Dawn didn’t want to be paper monitor.

“Erase boards,” Ms. Rooney wrote. “Jason Bazyk.”

Dawn crossed her fingers harder.

She was dying to be class president.

She bet Linda Lorca was too.

“Fish monitor: Jill Simon.”

Dawn sat back. Who cared about being fish monitor?

“I have fish at home,” Jill said. “Two guppies. One swordtail. Three—”

Jill was always talking about her birthday fish.

She had even brought fish food for show-and-tell.

Yucks.

Ms. Rooney began to write again: “Class president.”

Dawn crossed her toes.

Class president was the best job.

Ms. Rooney wrote a big
D.

“Dawn Bosco, I bet,” said Linda Lorca. “That bossy thing.”

“I am not,” said Dawn.

Ms. Rooney wrote the rest of Dawn’s name.

Class president! She couldn’t believe it.

Linda Lorca put her tongue out.

Dawn wanted to stick hers out too.

She didn’t, though.

Ms. Rooney said the president had to be good as gold.

Ms. Rooney wiped the chalk dust off her hands. “Do good jobs.”

She looked at Dawn.

It was time for the pledge.

That was the president’s job.

Dawn rushed to the front. “Class, stand,” she said in a nice loud voice.

Half the class stood.

“Just a minute,” Jill said. “I have to feed the fish.”

Alex Walker stuck his head out of the closet. “Hold on,” he said. “I have to find my homework.”

“You should have done that before,” Dawn said. She tried to sound like Ms. Rooney.

“I told you she was bossy,” said Linda Lorca.

Ms. Rooney shook her head at Linda.

“I pledge allegiance,” Dawn began.

The rest of the class said the pledge too.

Then it was time for show-and-tell.

Dawn had something to show.

Something important.

She looked at the box under her desk.

Could she call on herself first?

Maybe not.

Everyone was raising his hand. Dawn made believe she didn’t see Jill Simon.

Jill would show-and-tell for too long.

She wasn’t going to call on Linda Lorca.

She called on Sherri Dent.

Sherri went to the front. “I have something to tell.”

“I hope everyone is listening,” Dawn said. She smiled the way Ms. Rooney did.

“Do you see I’m a little tan?” Sherri asked.

“You look good,” said Jason.

“I went to California for the winter break,” said Sherri. “I swam every day.”

She waved her arms around. “This is me swimming.”

“Go, go, go,” said Jason.

Dawn looked at the back of the room.

Jill Simon was bending over the fish tank.

One of her braids was getting wet.

Dawn frowned.

Jill should be paying attention.

Sherri went back to her seat.

“Now I have something to show,” Dawn said.

She pulled a polka dot box up to the front.

She opened it for the class.

“Wow,” said Sherri.

On top was a pink polka dot hat.

Dawn put it on her head.

“This box helps me solve mysteries,” she said. “It has all the detective stuff.”

“Dawn thinks she knows everything,” Linda Lorca said.

“I found Emily’s ring last time,” Dawn said. “The blue one. Didn’t I?”

“That’s right,” said Emily.

“Your hat is a little big,” Sherri said.

“Miles too big,” said Linda Lorca. “Elephant head.”

Dawn made a face at Linda. She held up a magnifying glass. “I have a wig too. No-one can tell who I am.”

“Neat,” said Sherri.

“Yes,” said Ms. Rooney. She came to the front of the room. “It’s time for math now.”

Dawn pushed the box back to her desk.

She sniffed when she passed Linda Lorca.

She was sick of being good as gold.

If only she could find a mystery.

She’d solve it right this minute.

Linda Lorca would be sorry.

That big baby.

CHAPTER 2

I
T WAS AFTER SCHOOL.

Dawn stood near the schoolyard fence.

She closed her eyes tight.

A snowflake landed on her nose.

“No peeking,” Jason shouted.

Dawn listened hard. Jason was running around the side of the school.

She could hear him.

She could always hear Jason. He was loud.

“Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Here I come,” Dawn yelled. “Ready or not.”

She opened her eyes.

The ground was white.

So were the tops of the swings.

The sky was dark, though. It was almost time to go home.

Dawn looked around.

Jason’s footprints were gone.

She ran toward the school.

The wind blew hard. It pulled at her scarf.

It was a great scarf.

The best in the class.

Noni had made it for her.

Dawn ran around the side of the school.

Jason was gone.

She waited. She listened.

It was hard to hear in the snow and the wind.

She had to hear him.

She had to find him.

They were playing detective.

Jason was a thief. He had taken a million dollars.

She was the detective.

Jason should be easy to catch. She had caught him before.

She’d put him in jail again.

Jail was under the picnic table.

She took a few steps.

It was really dark in back of the school.

She turned around. Everyone else had gone.

She took one more step.

Her heart thumped.

What if a real thief were there?

What if he jumped out at her?

What if . . .

She took a step backward.

She heard something.

Someone was behind her.

Maybe a killer.

Before she could turn, something grabbed her.

“Yeow,” she yelled. “Noni.”

“Some detective you are,” Jason said. “Have to call your grandmother.”

“I was not,” Dawn said. “I was singing.”

She opened her mouth. “No-ni-la-la,” she sang.

She liked the way it sounded.

Noni always told her to sing. “Bellissimo,” she’d say.

That meant “gorgeous.”

Dawn sang a little louder.

Jason put his hands over his ears. “Yeow,” he said.

Jim came over.

He was the man who cleaned the school.

“Playing hide-and-seek?”

“Sort of,” Dawn said.

“It’s getting dark,” said Jim.

“My turn,” Jason said.

“No one’s turn,” said Jim. “I have to close the gates.”

Dawn dusted the snow off her scarf.

They started for the gate.

Then she remembered.

“My mittens.”

“What about them?” Jason asked.

“I left them on the swing. Remember? They were soaking wet.”

Jason looked back. “It’s too late to get them.”

Dawn put her lip out. “It is not. They have hearts on the fingers. They have flowers on the backs. Noni made them.”

Dawn ran fast. She sang, “Ni-la-la-ni.”

What if Jim closed the gates?

It would be cold in the schoolyard tonight.

Freezing.

She was hungry too. Her mother was making Friday-night meatballs.

She ran fast.

She scooped up her mittens.

They were a mess. It looked as if the hearts were melting.

Then she saw something. Something red and shiny.

It was somebody’s purse.

BOOK: The Riddle of the Red Purse
13.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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