The Trouble with Chickens (6 page)

Chapter 19
Show and Tell

“Y
ou wrote the notes,” I said to Sugar.

Sugar took another step toward the cage, careful not to get too close.

“Did not.”

“Did.”

“Did not.”

“Did.”

“Did not.”

It was like a game of Ping-Pong.

I hate Ping-Pong.

“Spill it, Sugar,” a voice piped up.

Moosh stepped out of the kitchen shadows.

All the color drained from Sugar's face.

She instinctively took a step back from the trouble coming her way.

I had one second to act.

I sucked my breath in through my nose as hard as I could.

Sugar was dragged right between the two bars and stuck to my nose like a stray sock on a freshly dried towel.

I had no idea what I was going to do with her.

It was Moosh's turn to come up to the cage.

I thought she'd come to rescue Sugar.

I was wrong.

“J.J.'s right,” she said. “I knew it as soon as I saw the note.”

Aha. I knew she knew more than she said she knew when she knew it.

It explained her bouncing left foot.

It wasn't a tap or a tic—it was a tell.

A tell is something people do when they're lying.

In Moosh's case, it was something she did when she knew more than she said she knew when she knew it.

Moosh stuck her beak through the bars.

“I'm waiting,” she said.

“I wrote it,” Sugar confessed. “I sent Poppy and Sweetie into the house, but I had to make it look like Vince took them.”

“Why in the world would you do that?” Moosh asked.

“For the books,” Sugar answered.

“What books?” Moosh said. “We don't have any books.”

“Look around, Moosh. This house is filled with books,” I said.

Moosh's eyes got big and wide.

“Vince said I had to help him get J.J. into the house or he wouldn't let me back in to read the books,” Sugar added.

Finally Moosh understood that Sugar had been coming and going to this house for a long time.

“You faked a kidnapping? With Vince the Funnel?”

Moosh raised her voice so high, I thought she might cough up a vocal cord.

“Vince promised me he wouldn't hurt them. He let them watch TV.”

Moosh considered this for a second.

“Vince forced you to write those notes?” she said.

“Actually, they were my idea,” said Sugar. “I had to make sure you went to J.J. for help.”

“That's enough!” a voice interrupted.

Vince had come into the kitchen with Poppy and Sweetie in tow.

“I should have known you'd sing like a bird,” he growled at Sugar.

“I am a bird,” she chirped.

Vince bared his teeth. “You're lucky you're in that cage.”

He turned to me.

“Congratulations, Hero Dog. You figured it all out.” Vince snickered. “But you're still in a cage, and you're still going to the vet to get ear tubes. You can thank your little chicken family for that.”

I charged the front door of the cage as hard as I could.

The door didn't budge.

When I got back on my feet, the chickens were gone.

Vince got as close to the cage as the funnel would let him.

“So who rescues the rescue dog?” he asked.

“Don't you think your dog walker is gonna notice that I'm not you?”

“Regular guy is gone for the holiday. His cousin is filling in. Never seen me before,” he answered.

“You've got a bigger problem,” I added.

“What's that?”

“When Barb gets back, she's gonna know the wrong dog got the tubes,” I said.

“Yeah, but she's not gonna care,” he said.

“Why's that?”

“She's going to be too upset over the demise of her pet chickens . . . and she's gonna blame you.”

Sugar made a very strange noise right before she fainted.

I had forgotten she was still in the cage with me.

So, apparently, had Vince.

“Don't even bother trying to warn them,” he sneered. “The doggie door is controlled by the black tag on my collar. They can't get out unless I let them out.”

He was still snickering when he left the room.

So that's what that funny black tag on his collar was for.

I thought it was the on/off switch for the lamp.

I needed more information from Sugar.

One good dose of dog breath was all it took to wake her up.

“All this for a book?” I asked.

“It's a really good book,” she whispered.

Then she fainted again.

Chapter 20
RHBWR

“T
ell me everything you know. Now,” I said when Sugar came to.

Sugar spilled her guts for real this time.

There was still one step left in Vince's plan. As soon as it was dark, they had to help him get his funnel off.

“Vince says when we're done, everyone will know that you're a dupe and he's a dirty double-crosser,” she ended.

“Do you have any idea what that means?” I asked, exasperated.

“None whatsoever,” she said.

“It means Vince is a liar and you are in serious trouble.”

It was Dirt.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

“Under the couch,” Dirt answered.

“Doing what?” I asked her.

“RHBWRing,” she said.

“Stop mumbling,” I said.

Dirt rolled her eyes.

“Oh, got it,” I said.

Moosh's voice arrived in the kitchen before she did.

“I'm not leaving here without Sugar. So let her go, J.J.—she can't help you,” she said.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Dirt! Where have you been?”

“Under the couch,” she said.

“Doing what?” demanded her mother.

“RHBWRing,” she answered.

“Stop mumbling,” said Moosh.

Dirt let out a heavy sigh.

“Never mind—we're leaving,” said Moosh. “I'm sorry for all the trouble, J.J., but I'm getting my family out of here.”

“Where are Poppy and Sweetie?” asked Sugar.

She sounded worried.

“I sent them to wake Vince up so we can take off his funnel and get out of here,” said Moosh.

Dirt was through the door before Moosh could finish her sentence.

Sugar made that funny sound again, like she was going to pass out.

This time I caught her before she fell over.

“Moosh, that funnel is the only thing between Vince and your chicks,” I said. “Once that thing is off, you're doomed. All of you.”

Moosh ignored me. “I won't be tricked again,” she said. “We're leaving.”

“Moosh, you're not listening.”

I was getting pretty agitated.

“Vince is not going to let you go.”

I shoved Sugar out through the bars to let Moosh know I was serious.

Dirt was back in a flash, with Poppy and Sweetie behind her.

“Mom, the doggie door is locked. We can't get out.”

Moosh looked scared.

“I can take him,” she squawked.

“No, you can't,” I said.

Dirt took a good look around the kitchen.

The note on the fridge.

The lock on the cage.

The recycle bin full of bottles.

“I have a plan,” she said.

Then she grabbed a pencil and paper and drew her own diagram.