The Lucky Lottery (4 page)

The kids carried their skis across Bridge Lane and into the supermarket. The store was almost empty on this snowy Sunday afternoon.

“Look,” Dink said, pointing to a small sign taped to the lottery machine:

CLOSED FOR THE STORM. SEE YOU TOMORROW.

Just then a teenager walked by. He
was carrying a broom and a dustpan. The name tag on his shirt said
ERIC
.

“Cool pooch,” he said, smiling at Pal.

“Do you know if Dot is still here?” Ruth Rose asked.

“Nope,” the kid said. “She left a while ago, all happy. She goes, like, ‘Merry Christmas, Eric!’ and slips me twenty bucks. I go, like, ‘Wow, thanks, Dot!’”

Eric walked behind the counter.

“What a mess Dot left back here,” he mumbled as he began sweeping.

“Um, do you know if Dot’s boss is around?” Dink said. “Can we talk to him?”

Eric crouched down behind the counter. “It’s a her, not a him,” he said, standing up. “The boss is Mrs. Milk. She’s, like, out sick, though. She’s had the flu all week.”

“The flu?” Dink said. “But Dot told me she’d talk to—”

Suddenly, Pal let out a howl. He buried his nose in the pile of dust Eric had swept up.

“What did you find?” Josh asked. “Let me have it, boy.” Josh pried open Pal’s mouth and pulled something out.

“Look, guys!” Josh held out a small tinfoil bow tie.

Ruth Rose took it from Josh, then pulled the other two out of her pocket.

The three were exactly the same.

The kids leaned over the counter. The floor was littered with tiny tinfoil bow ties.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Dink could tell by the looks on their faces that Josh and Ruth Rose had figured it out, too.

“Come on,” Dink muttered. He grabbed his skis and poles and hurried toward the exit.

Josh and Ruth Rose followed with their skis and poles. “Let’s go, Pal,” Josh told his dog.

“Are you guys thinking what I’m
thinking?” Ruth Rose asked once they were outside.

“Yeah,” Dink muttered. “Boy, have we been dopes! Let’s go back to Ellie’s.” They trudged through the snow and piled into the diner.

Ellie looked up. “Twice in one day?” she said. “Three more hot chocolates?”

“Thanks, Ellie,” Dink said. The kids slid into a booth while Pal flopped down at their feet.

“So Dot Calm is the crook, right?” Josh said.

“Right,” Dink said. “After Dot sold Hector his tickets, she must have kept the paper he wrote the kids’ birthdays on. That’s how she knew Lucky’s ticket was the winner.”

“But she didn’t know where Lucky lived,” Ruth Rose said, “so she had to go to the Atrium to find out. She wouldn’t want to talk to Hector, so she probably
asked someone else where his grandkids lived. She must’ve dropped a bow tie while she was snooping!”

“Then she went to Lucky’s house and stole the card…,” Dink added.

“…and dropped another bow tie in the snow,” Josh said.

“Then she made up that story about Joe to throw us off her trail,” Ruth Rose said.

Dink looked at Josh. “I bet she described your face because she was looking right at you when you were drawing him.”

“Yeah, and I was so dumb I didn’t even notice it was me,” Josh said.

“Here we go, kids.” Ellie brought their hot chocolates to the table. “These are on me, and a little treat for Pal.”

Ellie set a bowl of chopped-up hamburger in front of Pal’s nose. Pal raised his head, blinked his big brown
eyes at Ellie, and stuck his nose in the bowl.

“Thanks a lot, Ellie,” Josh said. “Pal says thanks, too.”

Ruth Rose had been sipping her hot chocolate. “You know, guys,” she said, “we can’t
prove
Dot stole the tickets. We
know
she did it, but Officer Fallon will say, ‘Where’s the proof?’”

Dink nodded. “Yeah, that’s
exactly
what he’ll say.”

“Well, unless we find the proof,” Josh said, “this sure is going to be a lousy Christmas for Lucky’s family. Seven million bucks down the drain.”

The kids drank their hot chocolate with glum expressions on their faces.

From beneath the table came the sound of happy chomping.

Dink invited Josh and Ruth Rose to spend the night. They unrolled their sleeping bags in front of Dink’s Christmas tree. Pal crawled inside Josh’s bag and started snoring.

While it snowed outside, the kids tried to figure out how to prove that Dot Calm had stolen Lucky’s lottery ticket.

“If only we had a witness,” Ruth Rose said from her sleeping bag.

“Too bad she didn’t drop something with her name on it,” Josh offered, warming his feet on Pal’s body.

“That would be too easy,” Dink mumbled. He crawled into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.

Then Dink was dreaming. But it wasn’t a happy, the-night-before-Christmas-Eve kind of dream.

This was a nightmare. Dink was outside somewhere, floundering in the snow. He was barefoot, without gloves, and freezing. His tracks crisscrossed each other as he tried to find his way home.

Dink yelled and sat up. From inside Josh’s sleeping bag, Pal whimpered.

“It’s okay,” Dink whispered. He sat and thought for a minute, then crawled out of his bag. He tiptoed up the stairs
and came down with his alarm clock. In the hall, Dink made a phone call, left a quiet message, and returned to the living room.

He set the alarm for six o’clock and put the clock in the foot of his sleeping bag. Then Dink climbed back in and went to sleep.

When the alarm buzzed, Dink pressed the off button with his toes. He slipped out of his bag and shook Josh and Ruth Rose. “Wake up,” he whispered. “And be quiet!”

Josh yawned and Ruth Rose blinked her eyes. Silently, they watched Dink pull on his boots.

Dink grinned. “Come on, you guys,” he said. “Meet me in the kitchen.”

“There better be breakfast,” Josh mumbled.

Within minutes, the three kids were
drinking orange juice and eating toast. Josh shared his bread with Pal, who then went back to Josh’s warm sleeping bag.

Dink told Josh and Ruth Rose about his nightmare. “All I could see was my footprints in the snow,” he said. “When I woke up, I thought about what Josh said about wishing Dot had left something with her name on it.”

He grinned. “I know how we can prove Lucky’s grandfather really did buy that ticket.”

“How?” Josh said. “And why’d you have to tell us this in the middle of the night?”

“Fingerprints,” Dink said. “Whose fingerprints would be on that stolen ticket?”

“Dot’s would be, if she stole it,” Ruth Rose said.

“But her prints would be on the
ticket anyway, since she sold it to Lucky’s grandfather,”
Josh said. “So what does that prove?”

“Nothing,” Dink said. “But Dot’s fingerprints aren’t the only ones on that ticket…”

Josh and Ruth Rose stared at him. “You’re right!” Ruth Rose said. “Hector’s fingerprints are on the ticket, too!”

“Um, can they get prints off lottery tickets?” Josh asked.

Dink nodded. “I think so. I saw a program about fingerprints on TV,” he said. “Fingers are oily, and the oil stains paper when we touch it.”

“We should tell Officer Fallon,” Ruth Rose said.

Dink nodded. “I left a message on his voice mail asking him to meet us at the lottery headquarters in Blue Hills.”

“But that’s two miles from here!” Josh said. He glanced out the window. “And it’s still dark out.”

“We can get there fast on skis,” Dink said. “And by that time, the sun will be up.”

“Are they even open?” Ruth Rose asked. “I bet a lot of places are closed today because of the snow.”

“I thought of that,” Dink said, setting the glasses in the sink. “If the place is closed, Dot Calm won’t be able to cash in the ticket. But if it’s open, we’ll catch her in the act!”

“Then Lucky will be a millionaire!” Josh said. “Times seven!”

“Let’s get going,” Dink said. “We can get to Blue Hills fastest if we ski along the river.”

Dink scribbled a note to his parents, and then the kids went back to the living room and finished dressing.

Suddenly, Josh’s sleeping bag
moved. A big bump wriggled toward the opening, and Pal poked his nose out. He looked at Josh and woofed.

“He wants to come with us,” Josh whispered, rubbing Pal’s silky ears.

The kids grabbed their skis and poles and stepped outside.

A full moon hung over Green Lawn, turning the snow to silver. The kids saw their breath as they skied out of Dink’s yard and past Ruth Rose’s house. They followed River Road south toward Blue Hills.

Once they found their rhythm, the kids zipped along. Over the river, the sun slowly appeared. Silver became gold as night turned to day.

Pal trotted happily along, his breath making small clouds.

Dink read the sign sticking out of the snowbank:
WELCOME TO BLUE HILLS
.

The kids stopped and leaned on their ski poles. The sun shone on the spruce trees, turning their snowy branches to gold.

“The town can’t be far now,” Dink said. He looked at his watch. “It’s almost eight.”

“Can we rest for a while?” Josh asked. “I feel like lying right down in the snow.”

“We could,” Dink said, “but what if Dot cashes in the ticket while we’re resting?”

“She’s probably still in bed,” Josh grumbled, “where we should be.”

Ruth Rose laughed. “Josh, would you still be in bed if you had a winning lottery ticket? Come on, I’ll race you!”

Dink and Josh skied after Ruth Rose, and a few minutes later they were on Main Street in Blue Hills.

“Let’s ask where the lottery place is,” Ruth Rose said, pointing to a gas station.

The kids skied up to the office and peeked in the window. Dink saw a man reading a newspaper and sipping from a coffee mug.

Dink tapped on the window, and
the man got up and opened the door. “Skis,” the man said. “Why didn’t I think of that? My poor old truck nearly skidded into Indian River this morning!”

He knelt and patted Pal. “Bet this fella wishes he had some skis, too.”

“Can you tell us how to get to the lottery place?” Dink asked.

“Sure can,” the man said. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “See that flashing light? That’s Middle Street. Hang a right there, and about a half mile up, you’ll see the sign. Red-brick building.”

He glanced at the kids. “One of you a winner?”

“No, but a friend of ours is!” Ruth Rose said.

The man looked at his watch. “Place must be just opening,” he said.

“Thanks a lot, mister,” Dink said,
and they skied up the quiet white street.

There were two cars in the parking lot in front of lottery headquarters. One of the cars had pulled in next to a sign that said
EMPLOYEE PARKING
. The other car was right in front of the entrance. Josh peeked through the windows.

“Guys, take a look,” he whispered.

Dink and Ruth Rose skied over and looked into the car. Gum wrappers twisted into silver bow ties littered the floor and seats.

“Dot must be inside!” Ruth Rose said. “Hurry up, let’s get in there!”

The kids took off their skis and left them and their poles outside the door. Josh told Pal to stay.

Dink opened the door, and the kids stepped inside. The room had a few chairs, a counter, and a row of filing cabinets.

A Christmas song was coming from a radio on a shelf. On the same shelf was perched a video camera. The lens was aimed at the counter. A small sign read:
ALL LOTTERY TRANSACTIONS ARE TAPED FOR YOUR SAFETY
.

A man was standing at the counter with his back to the kids. He was wearing a puffy down coat. A ski hat was pulled down over dark hair, and Dink could just see one end of a mustache.

“That guy looks like my picture of Joe!” Josh hissed in Dink’s ear.

The man reached a hand into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out, something dropped to the floor. It was another silver bow tie!

Just then a clerk approached the counter. She smiled at the kids and said, “Good morning. I’ll be right with you.”

The man turned around, and Dink gasped. It wasn’t a man at all. It was Dot Calm wearing a wig and fake mustache!

Dot Calm recognized the kids. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she turned quickly back to the clerk.

“Here’s the ticket,” she said. “Now I’ll take my check for seven million, please.”

The clerk nodded and slid a paper across the counter. “If you’ll just sign this…”

“Stop!” Dink yelled. “She’s a crook, and she stole that lottery ticket!”

The clerk’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

“We’re friends of the ticket’s
real
owner,” Ruth Rose said.

“Yeah, and we can prove it’s stolen!” Josh threw in.

Dot Calm sneered at the kids. “I bought this ticket Friday, and nobody can prove I didn’t.”

“Yeah?” Dink retorted. “Then why are my friend’s fingerprints on it?”

“Baloney,” Dot Calm said through her fake mustache.

“And
your
fingerprints are on the mantel where you stole the Christmas card!” Ruth Rose said, pointing at Dot Calm.

Dot Calm laughed. “You’re crazy, kid. I was wearing glov…”

The clerk picked up the telephone. “I’m calling the police,” she said.

Suddenly, Dot Calm charged toward the door. She flung it open and hurtled out into the snow.

Josh ran after her, screaming, “Attack, Pal!”

When the kids got outside, Dot Calm was lying in the snow with her feet tangled in skis and ski poles. Pal was sitting on the thief’s back, barking.

Suddenly, two police cruisers roared into the parking lot. Officer Fallon stepped from one of them, Officer
Keene from the other.

“What’s going on?” Officer Fallon asked.

“She stole Lucky’s lottery ticket,” Dink said, pointing to Dot Calm. “And we have proof! Lucky’s grandfather’s fingerprints will be on the ticket.”

Josh pulled Pal away, and Officer Fallon helped Dot Calm to her feet. Her face was covered with snow. When she wiped the snow away, the mustache fell off.

“What…who is this character?” Officer Fallon asked.

“Her name is Dot Calm,” Dink said. “She’s wearing a wig!”

Officer Fallon reached over and pulled at the wig. It came off, revealing Dot Calm’s blond hair.

“Anything to say for yourself, miss?” Officer Fallon said.

Dot Calm shook her head.

“Then hold out your hands.” Officer Fallon snapped on a pair of handcuffs. Officer Keene led Dot Calm to his cruiser.

Just then the clerk came bustling out of the office holding the lottery ticket. “What should I do with this?” she asked. “It’s the seven-million-dollar winner!”

Officer Fallon looked at Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose. “Would you kids like a ride to Lucky’s house?” he asked.

Five minutes later, the cruiser pulled up in front of 33 Robin Road. The kids and Pal piled out, followed by Officer Fallon.

Lucky and his six brothers and sisters were building snow people in their front yard. They all came running over to the cruiser.

“Are you gonna ’rest us?” Josephine
asked. Her cheeks and nose were as red as her mittens.

Officer Fallon patted Josephine on her head. “No, but Dink has something to give your big brother.”

Dink grinned and handed the seven-million-dollar winning ticket to Lucky.

“Merry Christmas!” he said.

Lucky took one look at the ticket, then fell over in the snow.

“Pig pile!” Ben O’Leary yelled, and all six redheads leaped on top of Lucky.