Sally's Bones (11 page)

It was a dusky night in Merryland. The stars twinkled dully around a crescent moon that played hide-and-seek with thick gray clouds. The muted glow of streetlights haunted sidewalks through a veil of fog. And in the shadows lurked two creatures, each hunting, each also hunted.

Sally hugged herself with straitjacketed arms, but it did little to still the shivers that afflicted her this blustery night. She followed closely behind Bones, the Sherlock to her Watson, as the canine corpse tracked the scent of real, marrow-filled bones. Three times already the trails they'd followed had gone cold; first at a butcher's shop, then in a meatpacking plant, and lastly at the pound. Sally had been hopeful that this third trail would reveal the D.C.'s private stash, but all they found were bah-humbugging hounds whose longing for a simple marrowbone made Bones seem like fresh meat.

After going at it for hours, they finally landed on a new path that had potential. It led the junior sleuths out of the town center, toward the more residential neighborhoods where many of the bone snatcher's victims lived.

They passed a small ranch-style home with peeling white paint and partially hinged shutters. The mailbox had fallen off its post and lounged lazily on its side. Behind the chain-link fence, which was rusting and bent, lay a mangy little mutt. He sniffed in the air as Bones crept by. Licking his lips, he growled.

Suddenly the dog leapt to his feet, snarling and snapping and scratching wildly at the fence. Sally fell back and shoved Bones behind her. She was sure the crazed canine would have climbed the fence, had he not been chained to a post in his yard.

“Keep moving,” Sally instructed. Peeking in the front window of the dilapidated house as she and Bones hurried on, she saw Danny Boi wrestling with his brothers. Or so she thought, until she realized he was crying uncle, to the amusement of the larger boys. His parents, who watched TV in the adjacent den, did nothing to help.

“Poor Danny,” Sally said. “And poor crazy dog.”

“Grruff,” Bones concurred without lifting his snout.

A few blocks away, Bones caught a stronger scent. On the corner of Euclid and Elm stood a moderately sized split-level with a small, open yard. A hound dog dawdled toward Sally and Bones but stopped a few feet from the property's edge.

“Invisible fence, huh, boy?” Sally smiled at the floppy-faced dog. He grumbled and plopped down, staring at Bones with wistful longing. Sally was about to give the depressed pet her one marrowbone when the door to the backyard slammed open, and Tommy Gunn barreled out. His mother, wearing a Parents Against Death jacket, charged after him, yelling. Neither wanting to see or be seen, Sally and Bones quickly turned another corner and were out of sight.

“If we ever get out of this mess, maybe we should walk home with Tommy sometime,” Sally suggested. Bones wagged his tail in agreement.

As they neared the top of a beautiful, tree-lined street, they came upon a plucky little puggle that Sally instantly recognized as Peaches, Chati Chattercathy's designer mutt. “Hi, Peaches,” she whispered as she leaned over the crisp white picket fence. But Peaches, who normally couldn't resist any attention, only stared at them from inside a clapboard doghouse.

“Things really are bad,” Sally said to Bones. “I hate to say it, but I kind of get why all the dog owners are out for, well, bones. Their puppies need Prozac.” Sally reached into the brown bag and revealed the lone marrowbone. Peaches instantly perked up. “Here you go, girl,” she stage-whispered as she tossed the treat into the yard. It landed with a thud, and a light went on in an upstairs room.

Sally and Bones retreated into the shadows just as Chati appeared at her bedroom window. She shined a flashlight around the yard and dialed her cell phone.

“Mom? It's me…me, Chati…Yes, I know you're still at the show, but I heard something in the…no, of course I'm not making this up. There was a loud noise, and I don't like being here alone. I had a really long day. My friend is missing, and I…Well, how soon will you and Daddy…yes, I know you have to work, but…well, sure the alarm's on, but I'd feel a lot better if you'd just come…no, I'm sorry…OK, all right. I'll see you in the morning, and I won't bother you again unless there's an actual intruder in the…hello?” Chati hung up her phone and did one more sweep of the yard with her flashlight. She kept her bedroom light on and pulled the drapes shut.

“See you, Chati,” Sally whispered, knowing her voice would not reach the second floor. She waved at the friend who could not see her as she and Bones crept from their hiding place.

As they wandered the deserted suburban streets, Sally realized how much she missed her father. She wondered where he was right now and if he was asking himself the same question about her. Probably not, she decided. He was most likely at the lab, working hard, focused on nothing but his experiments. Sally was picturing him smiling warmly at his well-behaved fruit flies when Bones picked up a fresh scent. He wagged his tail furiously and charged ahead. Sally jogged alongside him, hurrying to keep up. When he stopped abruptly, she tripped over her own feet and tumbled off the sidewalk. She landed in a heap at the foot of an elegantly paved, long, and winding drive.

Bones sat beside her, looking through the imposing front gates. She saw a fuzzy toy bone in the grass just on the other side.

“Bones, are you kidding me?” Sally fell backward and covered her face. “Did you bring us to the Vanderperfects' just to find Princess Poopsy and her stupid toy? We were in search of
real
bones, Bones, not fuzzy ones! Now we're going to have to start all over again. I can't believe we wasted all this time. I can't believe you—”

“Grwoff!” Bones interrupted. He motioned for Sally to look deeper into the yard. What she saw this time brought her to her feet. Just up the hill of the Vanderperfect Estate stood Princess Poopsy von Vanderpoodle, but she was not concerned with a plush toy bone. Instead, she was furiously digging, retrieving the one thing everyone so desperately wanted. Caked in dirt and happy as a clam, the pretty poodle popped up holding a slightly chewed marrowbone in her mouth. Sally patted Bones lightly on the head.

“By George,” she whispered. “I think she's got it.”

Sally regarded the Vanderperfects' formidable gate. It stood at least thirty feet high, and each individual rail ended in a terrifying spearhead that Sally pictured Viola sharpening twice a day, just for fun. The hinges were fastened with what looked like Frankenstein's neck bolts, and the place where the two sides came together was lined with an electrical cord that Sally imagined would give a painful shock. She turned to comment on their sorry situation, but her partner in crime was no longer by her side.

“GGGgggrrr-uff!” Bones said as he slipped through the narrow opening between two of the rails. “Rara, Ggruff,” he added, eager for her to follow.

“Seriously, Bones? Even a Hollywood starlet couldn't fit through there,” said Sally. “I'll just have to find another way in.” But after fifteen minutes of staring blankly at the rails, Sally worried that she might never figure out how to break or enter. Just as she was about to give up, she heard the low rumbling of an approaching car.

“Bones, hide,” she commanded and ducked behind a shrub.

From her somewhat obstructed vantage point, Sally saw Officer Stu's squad car pull up to the Vanderperfects' front gate. There were two other people in the vehicle with him, but she could only make out one: the dreaded D.C.

“Oh, come on,” she whispered to an unseen higher power. “Couldn't you give me even the tiniest break?” As if in answer to her prayers, the gates creaked open and the squad car headed up the drive. Once it was out of sight, Sally slipped through the gates just as they were about to close. She hurried toward the grassy area where she had instructed Bones to hide and found him curled up in a flower bed.

“Pushing up daisies, are we?” Sally joked. Bones craned his neck toward her and kissed her softly on the cheek.

“Are you ready to do this?” she asked.

“Ggruff,” Bones confirmed, and he jumped to his feet.

Sticking to the shadows, the fugitives hurried up the drive. When they arrived at the Vanderperfects' house, Vivienne was arguing with Officer Stu and his companions out front.

“Really, Officer, I don't know what more I can tell you,” Mrs. Vanderperfect complained. She pointed at the D.C. “I told this gentleman that I heard Seymour say Sally was lying about that animal-thing of hers not liking real bones, and that was all. I really don't know why you're interrupting my evening for this.”

“I never said Sally was lying,” the previously unseen passenger interjected. “I reminded her that I had seen Bones touch a real bone once before, and she told me things weren't as they appeared.” Seymour Simplesmith turned to Officer Stu. “You called court back into session before she had the chance to finish.”

“What else could she say?” the D.C. hissed. “She said the dog never touched a bone, but you saw him do it. End of story.”

“That is
not
the end of the story,” Sally's father snapped. “And I'm sorry to interrupt your evening, Vivienne, but mine's been derailed a bit too. My daughter is missing, or haven't you heard?”

“Now, Seymour,” Mrs. Vanderperfect patronized. “There's no need to take that tone with me.” She put an arm around her dead friend's husband and moved him toward the squad car. “I truly am sorry that Sally has run off, but, well, let's be honest. There's always been something a bit off about your girl. She's a sad, lonely child who will do anything for attention. Why else would she bother with that hellion-hound?”

The D.C. sniggered. Vivienne continued, “Soon enough, Sally will realize he isn't going to get her the kind of spotlight she craves, so she'll dump him and come crawling back home.” She helped Seymour into the passenger seat of Officer Stu's car. “I only hope your relief at her safe return will not stop you from punishing her as she deserves.”

Sally was shocked. Hadn't this woman been her friend? Vivienne had always been so nice to Sally, and she was one of the only witnesses who hadn't accused Bones at the trial. Why would she turn against them now?

As Mrs. Vanderperfect returned to her house, Seymour defiantly exited the car. “Vivienne,” he bellowed. She pivoted to face him, stunned by his thundering tone. “How dare you speak about my daughter like that? Sally is the best kid a parent could ever hope for, and she's had to endure more than most. She is graceful, and she is kind.

“In fact,” he continued, his voice rising, “my Sally has such a big heart that she was able to love something that everyone else feared, to see the good in a helpless little animal that anyone else would have shunned. And she had the courage to protect him when people like you were calling for blood. If that makes her ‘a bit off,' then that's the kind of off I can be proud of.”

“Seymour, please—” Vivienne began, but Sally's father carried on.

“Now, I am not a man who wastes his time with regret, but today I am filled with it. I didn't stand up for my beautiful, smart, honest little girl when I should have. I didn't put my faith in the one person who most deserved it. But that changes now.”

“Stu.” Seymour addressed the honorable lawman. “I'd like to withdraw my testimony, if that's all right with you. If Sally says Bones detests bones, then he does. If she says he is innocent, then he is. And if I have to, I'll spend the rest of my life proving it.”

Officer Stu nodded, and the D.C. threw his hands in the air. He headed for the squad car, but Seymour stopped him. “And you can trust me when I tell you that I am not a man you want to go up against when it comes to discovering the truth.”

Sally couldn't remember ever having heard Seymour confront anyone about anything, let alone something to do with her. Happy tears filled her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around her first-rate father, but before she could even consider revealing herself, someone else sprinted from the shadows and leapt into Mr. Simplesmith's arms.

“GGGgggrrrr-uff!” Bones barked, and he showered Seymour with big, wet kisses.

The stunned adults were still frozen in shock when Sally darted past. She briefly stopped at her father, giving him a drive-by peck on the cheek. She snapped her fingers at Bones, who leapt out of Seymour's arms and ran to her side.

“I love you, Daddy!” Sally called as she raced into the Vanderperfects' house.

The grand foyer was more extravagant than Sally had imagined. Two stories tall with a seven-tiered chandelier at the center, it showcased a sweeping staircase that curved along the room's perimeter and ended on a high landing to the right. Sally saw Princess Poopsy disappear into a hallway off the balcony, but as she made for the stairs, Sally lost her footing and slipped on the buffed marble floor. Bones followed suit, and the duo slid across the length of the room. They landed in a tangled heap at the entrance to the Vanderperfect's formal dining room, where Viola was waiting impatiently for her mother to return.

“Oh. My. God!” the displeased diner declared. “I thought I was rid of you. What are you doing in my house?”

Sally rose to her feet and charged at her fair-haired foe. “What do you think I'm doing here, you horrible lying thief? It's one thing not to like me but to go after an innocent animal? That is beyond mean, and I am so going to take you down.”

“What are you talking about?” Viola slammed her utensils on the table. “What are you talking about?!”

Hands on her hips and justice on her side, Sally laid it out. “I know you're the real bone snatcher, Viola. I know you set us up. The night of your birthday party, you told your mom someone had been stealing Princess Poopsy's bones. You told her it'd been going on since the day we met, which, lucky for you, also happened to be the same night I found Bones. You then went around town stealing the bones of other innocent pets until you finally planted the evidence in the shed where you knew Bones and I hung out. Then you called the D.C. and tipped him off.” Sally took a moment to let her brilliant deduction set in.

“Unfortunately for you,” she continued, “your plan didn't work, because Bones and I figured it out. And we're going to comb every inch of this place until we find the proof we need to expose you as the cruel, calculating criminal you are!”

Viola stared at Sally in disbelief, stunned, it seemed, into silence. The quiet, however, did not last long. The accused adolescent began to scream. “I am so, so, so sick of you, Sally Simplesmith! You and your stupid zombie dog! Get out of my house! Get out of my house!!”

Sally and Viola were close to blows when their parents, Officer Stu, and the D.C. arrived.

“Grwoff!” Bones warned. Sally turned her attention to the gathered grown-ups and prepared to run.

“Girls, please,” Officer Stu pleaded, surveying the stand off. “Clearly there's more going on here than I know about, and I'd like to get to the bottom of it. So, why don't we call a momentary truce and—”

Before Stu could finish his proposal, a serving woman entered through a swinging door at the far end of the dining room. The D.C. lunged at Bones. The nimble corpse leapt up onto the table and raced across it, deftly navigating napkins and plates, candles and glasses.

“Bones. Kitchen!” Sally called as she sprinted toward the swinging door. The D.C. and Mrs. Vanderperfect chased after them. Terrified at the sight of the skeleton, the Vanderperfects' soon-to-be-fired maid dropped the large serving bowl of soup she had been carrying and covered her eyes. Sally and Bones cleared her before the basin hit the ground. Vivienne and the dog catcher were not so lucky. As she pushed through the kitchen door, Sally stole a quick but satisfying glance back at her pursuers, who were now covered in clam chowder.

Racing through the kitchen, she searched for an exit but saw nothing. It seemed the only way in or out was through the swinging door from which she had just escaped. Sally felt the room begin to spin. She was on the verge of passing out when a loud crash from the far corner caught her attention. Another server had just spotted Bones and regarded him with horror. Though she had had just about enough of such narrow-minded reactions, Sally couldn't have been more thankful for this one. As she looked in the direction of the dumbfounded waiter, she spied an actual dumbwaiter. Sally whistled to Bones, who followed her into the small elevator.

“Second floor, if you know what's good for you!” she told the gaping garçon. He closed the hatch instantly and sent them upstairs.

When the dumbwaiter reached its destination, Sally threw the latch and crawled onto a landing at the end of a long hall. “I think this is the hallway where I saw Princess Poopsy. The stolen bones have to be here. Do you think you can find them?”

The dead-but-determined dog growled softly and began sniffing all around. Sally prayed that they would find what they were after. But as she threw open door after door, they uncovered nothing but overpriced furniture and more than enough portraits of Viola to fill a museum.

Sally crumpled against a door midway between the dumbwaiter and the grand staircase. “I just don't get it,” she whimpered. “If it wasn't Viola, then who?”

“You, Sally Simplesmith. It must have been you,” a vicious voice replied. Less than fifteen feet away stood Vivienne Vanderperfect, triumphant at the top of the stairs. Viola, the D.C., and Officer Stu were close behind. “I think it's high time you cease trying to blame someone else for your own heinous crime and simply take what's coming to you. Officer Stu, arrest them!”

“Arrest us? For what?” Sally balked.

Vivienne smiled cruelly. “Breaking and entering, fraudulence—”

“Your hideous fashion sense,” Viola muttered.

“Framing me for a crime I didn't commit!” Vivienne cried.

“Wait, what?” Sally asked. “Framing
you?
Why would I frame you? Not that I did anything wrong, but why wouldn't you think I was after Viola?”

Mrs. Vanderperfect stiffened and crossed her arms. “What? Oh, well, yes, of course. Of course I meant Viola. Framing
Viola
for a crime
she
didn't commit. That's what I meant to say.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Sally gasped. “It wasn't Viola. It was you!”

“What was who?” Vivienne stammered. “You dare accuse me? Isn't that just…I absolutely never…Why would you even…”

Viola walked around to face her mother. “Mom? What did you do?”

Vivienne Vanderperfect looked past her daughter at Sally. She raised her perfectly manicured claws and lurched in the startled girl's direction. “I'm going to get you, you ungrateful little—!”

Sally ducked, narrowly escaping Vivienne's clutches just as Mr. Simplesmith came charging up the stairs.

“Sal—the banister!” her father hollered, and he threw himself on top of the mini-mob on the landing. Sally whistled to Bones, who leapt into her arms. Throwing her leg over the side, she straddled the banister and slid down to the ground floor.

Bones hopped onto the floor and went straight to work, sniffing out the marrowbone's pungent perfume.

“Ggruff, Ggruff!” he barked and hightailed it past the living room, through the solarium, and out to the side yard. “Rara, Ggruff,” he called to Sally, who ran as fast as she could to keep up. When they reached the Vanderperfects' richly landscaped garden, Sally felt a stitch dig into her side. She didn't know how much farther she could run when Bones once again came to a sudden stop that took Sally by surprise. Tumbling over the little skeleton, she crashed into one of Mrs. Vanderperfect's oversized planters. She felt the wood split against her back and wondered how much jail time property damage would add to her sentence.

As she dug herself out of the mountain of soil that surrounded her, she was faced with a curious tableau. On the far left stood the D.C., his fists clenched as tightly as his teeth. Beside him was Officer Stu, arms crossed, frowning as he shook his head. To the right was Viola, with gaping mouth and bulging eyes, and then Sally's father, who had taken off his glasses but stared clear-eyed in his daughter's direction. Kneeling beneath them all was Vivienne Vanderperfect, her outstretched arms paralyzed, reaching for something she would never quite grasp.

Bones trotted over to Sally and crawled into her lap. Sighing, he leaned over to her shoulder and pushed something off it with his nose. Sally heard the object land with a thud and turned to see what it was. There, in a pile of dirt, was a partially chewed marrowbone. Sally turned and beheld the broken planter behind her.

“Whoa,” she whispered, as she watched mounds of soil spill out…and dozens of stolen bones fall forward.