The Mystery of the Zorse's Mask (20 page)

Mrs. Morales turns to the sheriff. “As you can see, we're delighted to have Zed back.”

“He won't be here for long,” Sheriff Fischer adds. “I talked to his real owner—not that lowlife cowboy, but the grandmother who is surprising healthy for someone supposedly near death.”

“More of Caleb's lies,” Becca gripes.

“What did she say?” I ask.

“Plenty. That grandson of hers is a—” he starts to answer but is interrupted by door chimes. “Must be my deputy. I'll get it.”

Only it's not the deputy.

A tall woman, probably near forty, with curly reddish-black hair curled into a bun steps into the living room. She's wearing a powder-blue business suit, and even though she's older than she was in the video Caleb showed us, I recognize her.

Carol Hunter-Bowling.

Chapter 22

All That Glitters

It's like a party as our group talks excitedly, sitting around the living room table. Everyone sips hot chocolate except Carol Hunter-Bowling, who prefers herbal tea.

Sheriff Fischer does most of the talking since he's collected all the facts about what happened today. He's a fact collector, I think, like I'm a secret collector.

Carol doesn't say much, nodding occasionally while she listens to the sheriff. She sips her tea and shows no emotion except for a
tap-tap
of her rosered nails on the armrest.

When Sheriff Fischer finishes talking, he asks Carol if she wants to file a report against her brother.

Carol's forehead furrows. “Will he be arrested?”

“That's up to you and your grandmother. He isn't a kidnapper, so I don't have grounds to detain him. But the truck and horse trailer are registered to your grandmother, so I'm not releasing them to him until I've cleared it with her or her legal representative.”

“That would be me,” Carol says with a wry smile. “Since Grandma's stroke, I've been taking care of her finances.”

“I suspected as much.” Sheriff Fischer nods. “Your brother wasn't too happy when we refused him access to the truck and trailer. My deputy allowed him to take his suitcase under close supervision. I told your brother you were on the way, but he wasn't keen on hanging around the station. Last I saw, he was being picked up by a friend.”

“He can walk back to Nevada for all I care,” Carol says bitterly. “I've overlooked his schemes before, but hurting Domino is unforgivable. It'll be up to Grandma, though, if we file charges against him.” She turns to me with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much for helping Domino—or you can call him Zed. I'd like to give you a reward.”

When I return lost pets, I'm usually happy to accept a reward for our CCSC treasury. But when she pulls out a checkbook, I shake my head. “I care about Zed too much to accept money for helping him. But it would be nice if Becca could visit Zed.”

“Of course she can.” Carol's smile includes all of us. “You're all welcome at our ranch. I'll be moving in with Grandma, and I know she'd love to meet you.”

“Coolness!” Becca jumps up to hug Carol, who seems a little reserved at first but then returns the hug. “How soon can I visit?”

“Anytime you want. And if the zorse ever needs a new home, it's good to know he has one here.” She glances toward the window. “I do wonder, though, how I'm going to drive both my car and the truck trailer home.”

“Sorry, I can't help you with that,” Sheriff Fischer says as he walks over to the door. “My deputy's waiting outside and we have to leave.”

“I'll figure something out, but I won't be able to come back for the truck and trailer until the weekend.” She looks at Becca's mother. “If that's all right with you?”

“He can stay as long as you want. He has a home here whenever he needs it.” Mrs. Morales touches her chin thoughtfully. “I just had an idea.”

“What?” Carol arches her brows.

“I have plenty of experience driving horse trailers. Why not let me drive the trailer back for you? I can drive up on Saturday and get one of my volunteers to follow in his car, and the others can stay here to help run the sanctuary.”

Carol's big grin is answer enough.

“I can't wait any longer.” Becca jumps up. “Now can I go out and see Zed?”

“I want to see him too,” Carol says, heading for the door.

The sheriff, Becca's mom, Leo, and I follow them outside. Becca and Carol rush over to the trailer, so I'm the only one that sees Sheriff Fischer reach out to hold Mrs. Morales's hand—and she doesn't pull away. She smiles at him like she doesn't just have a “thing” for cowboys but for sheriffs too.

Secret thirty-one
, I think with a smile.

Becca and Carol are hugging and bonding over Zed love. I notice Leo standing off to the side. He's tilting his head in his “thinking” mode. I call his name repeatedly before he blinks at me.

“Huh?” he murmurs as if coming out of a trance. “Did you say something?”

“Only your name like a dozen times,” I tease. “Why so serious? You should be happy that Zed is safe. We found out who hurt him and helped reunite him with his family. Another CCSC mystery solved.”

“But not all the mysteries are solved,” Leo points out. “Have you forgotten the fly mask?”

“No.” I hesitate, not sure how to tell Leo that his new friend Frankie is our top suspect. But it's not a secret I can keep any longer.

So I explain about Becca sneaking back into the drama storage room and finding the ripped paper that she pieced together. “Frankie spied on us,” I finish.

“I know,” Leo says surprisingly. “He told me.”

“He did?” I gasp.

“Yeah. He had dinner at my house last night and confessed he followed me because he couldn't understand why we were sneaking around together. I didn't tell him about our club, just that we shared an interest in helping animals. I showed him Lucky and some of my robots. He showed me photos of costumes and sets he's created.” Leo looks straight into my eyes. “I know he didn't take the fly mask.”

“But he's the only one who knows about our clubhouse,” I point out. “At first I thought maybe Caleb took the mask, but he had no reason to, since we were going to give it to him anyway. But Frankie may have felt the fly mask belonged to him because it was in his costume box.”

“He's innocent,” Leo insists.

I wave my hands in frustration. “No one else knows about our clubhouse.”

“Actually someone does,” a voice comes from behind us. “I do.”

I turn to face Mrs. Morales. “You … you know about our club?”

“That old skunk shack,” she says with a nod. “I've known since you kids cleaned it up—nice job. I wanted to help with the kittens and was going to offer kitten supplies, but you've managed great without my help.”

“If you knew, why didn't you tell us?” I exclaim.

“And spoil your fun? What kind of mom do you think I am?” She chuckles. “Caleb noticed you sneaking up the hill though and thought I should find out what you were up to. But I told him I trust you kids. You're taking wonderful care of the kittens.”

“The orange one is mine, but I can't keep it because my apartment doesn't allow pets,” I say, sighing. “The black one is Becca's, and she can't keep it because—”

“Because she thinks I won't let her,” Becca's mom finishes. “This calls for another mother-daughter talk. And this time I'll tell her I'm glad she has a club and new friends, but I think the kittens should move into our house. We can always find room for more animals.”

“That's great!” I jump up to hug her. “Becca is going to be so happy.”

“I'll talk to her now,” Mrs. Morales says, then turns and goes over to the pasture, where Becca and Carol are leading Zed.

I glance over at Leo, and he's tilting his head again, staring into space.

“Earth to Leo,” I say, tapping his shoulder.

He gives a start. “Oh yeah. This proves my point.”

“What point?”

“Frankie is innocent,” Leo says firmly.

“Huh?” I ask, totally lost by his thought process.

“Mrs. Morales just said Caleb knew about the Skunk Shack. When he told me he wanted the fly mask hidden somewhere safe, he expected us to hide it in the shack. And he was right. So late last night, he went to the shack and took it.”

I shake my head. “Why steal something we were going to give to him?”

“That puzzled me too, but I have a theory. Caleb wouldn't want anyone to know he had the mask, since he planned to sell it even though it doesn't belong to him. So he stole it from us before we could give it to him. He might have also worried we'd figure out the mask is valuable. Last night I researched the jewels and determined there's a 78 percent chance the jewels are real.”

“But you proved they're fake,” I argue.

“The purple ones are paste imitations,” he agrees. “But the black stones are chocolate diamonds.”

“Chocolate like candy?” I repeat, confused.

“Chocolate diamonds are also called brown diamonds. The stones are common and used to be thought worthless until they became popular in the late 1980s. If you look under bright lighting, they shine inside.”

“Even if they are chocolate diamonds, what does it matter?” My shoulders sag in frustration. “Caleb is gone, and we'll never see him or the fly mask again.”

“Do
not
assume the worst.” Leo abruptly whirls around.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To follow an idea.”

He walks over to the truck and opens the door. “Not locked,” he reports as he steps up into the back. “But if it had been locked, I could have used my new and improved key spider.”

He bends over to peer under the driver's seat, then runs his hands along the cracks between the seats.

“Leo, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Looking for—” He checks the glove box, then lets out a sharp whistle. “Found it!”

When he turns back to me, purple paste jewels and chocolate diamonds sparkle from the fly mask.

Chapter 23

An Old Photograph

“Are we there yet?” Becca has asked her mother this at least a hundred times, so it's become a joke, and we all laugh.

Becca wiggles in the front seat of the truck beside her mother. Leo and I are in the backseat. The drive to Nevada is long, but we've had a lot to talk about—especially my mother's big news.

I still can't believe it was Mom—not Dad—who found a new job. Mom took the printout with the list of jobs that I gave Dad and applied for one of them. While I was hiding in a horse trailer, Mom was hired to be the new animal control officer. She'll be working full-time with the sheriff's department. That's why Sheriff Fischer knew who she was. And my family won't have to leave Sun Flower.

“Are we there yet?” Becca asks again.

I playfully swat her, although I'm impatient too. We've been driving for hours. It was fun at first, peering out the window as the highway wound through small towns and big cities until it climbed high into the mountains. Snow-topped Sierras beckoned us higher, and twisty miles of forest rose, then fell into high desert hills.

I must have drifted asleep because suddenly I sit up with a start as Mrs. Morales announces, “We're here!”

The Hunters' ranch sits in a valley surrounded by low hills. We drive through a wooden gate, onto a paved road circling up to a brick and fawn-brown colored single-story house with a wraparound wood deck and potted cactuses. A Labrador retriever barks and wags his tail excitedly as he chases after our car.

The front door of the house swings opens. Carol Hunter-Bowling comes out, pushing a wheelchair with a silver-haired woman draped in a bright-red shawl.

“I'm so glad you're here!” Carol says warmly, giving us hugs. “This is my grandmother, Eloise Hunter.”