“This looks amazing!” Surprised, I turned to see my mother gazing at the stage. My father was beside her. “You helped build this, Truly?”
I nodded. “I didn’t do all that much. Just the ‘Rockin’ Mermaid’ sign and that fake tile stuff behind the counter, and the mural.”
“Well, I think it looks spectacular,” said my mother. “Don’t you agree, J. T.?”
My father gave a short nod. “Hard work always pays off.”
Just five words, but they gave me hope. I knew it was pushing my luck, but I had to at least try. “Am I still grounded?”
My father snorted. “Of course you are!”
I looked over at my mother, who gave me a regretful look but didn’t say anything. The united front was clearly still in full force.
I couldn’t help myself. “Please, Dad! I’m really, really sorry I disobeyed you!”
“As you should be.” He turned on his heel and stalked out.
I might as well just hand Dandy Dan’s treasure over to Amanda Appleton, I thought bitterly as I followed him to the car. At this rate, the Pumpkin Falls Private Eyes would never be back in business.
CHAPTER 35
Dress rehearsal was a disaster in every possible way.
“People, people!” wailed Dr. Calhoun, clapping his hands over his ears. “Have you forgotten everything we’ve practiced? Listen to the piano and stay on pitch!” He shook his head wearily. “And you sounded so good last night!”
“It’s okay,” Belinda whispered, handing me a kitten for comfort. A tiny black one with a white splotch on its nose. “Dress rehearsals are traditionally terrible.”
Lucas and I exchanged a worried glance. This terrible? Hatcher seemed to have forgotten all the words to his song, Cha Cha’s high notes were in danger of shattering the glass on the chandeliers, and Calhoun and the other pirates were bumbling through their dance steps like—well, like Scooter and me at cotillion practice last winter.
We were going to be a laughingstock!
Bud Jefferson came up behind us and clapped a paw on Lucas’s shoulder. “Looking forward to our expedition tomorrow?” He’d finally worn Lucas down and, after promising Lucas’s mother that he’d make him wear a life preserver, sunscreen with at least SPF 50, a hat, and wraparound sunglasses, they were scheduled to go fishing.
“Yeah, about that,” Lucas replied, squirming away. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to go after all.”
Bud’s smile wavered. “Oh, okay. Well, another time then?”
I stroked the kitten as I watched Bud droop over to join Elmer and Augustus.
“You know, Lucas,” I said, thinking about my aunt’s earlier advice, “not all change is bad.”
He gave me a puzzled look.
“Bud’s a really nice guy. Maybe you could give him a chance?”
“Maybe you could mind your own beeswax, Drooly!” Lucas snapped, my nickname shooting up an octave as his voice cracked.
I stared at him in shock as he stalked off. I’d never seen Lucas lose his temper before. When we broke for a midmorning snack a little later, he kept a wary distance as we gathered with our friends.
“We’re down to just one suspect,” Scooter said, helping himself to one of the donuts from Lou’s that Mrs. Winthrop had brought for the cast and crew.
“Whoa!” said Cha Cha. “What happened?”
“It turns out that the woman in the Red Sox baseball cap is a client of my father’s. I spotted her outside his office this morning, and, well, I guess I—”
“What my brother means to say is that he got hollered at for accusing her of stealing the trophy,” said Jasmine.
“She took my question all wrong!” Scooter protested.
“And it gets worse,” Jasmine continued smugly. “It turns out that the teenage boys are her kids. They were all at the race to cheer on their dad. My father hit the roof when he overheard Scooter questioning her.”
At least I wasn’t the only one whose father overreacted sometimes. “But this is good news, right?” I said. “This means the guy in the Grateful Dead T-shirt and aviator sunglasses has to be the thief!”
Scooter pulled out his cell phone, and we all stared at the picture of the older gentleman again. “How are we ever going to find him, though, since nobody knows who he is?”
“Who who is?” asked Augustus, who had wandered over to snag a donut. He peered over Scooter’s shoulder and frowned. “Why do you have a picture of Frank on your phone?”
I looked up at him, startled. “Wait, you know him?”
“Sure. That’s Frank Peabody, my agent. I’ve been his client for years. I invited him up to Pumpkin Falls to experience a real New England Fourth of July.”
With all the people we’d shown the photo to, I couldn’t believe that we’d forgotten to show it to Augustus Wilde!
“So he didn’t steal the pumpkin trophy?”
Augustus’s eyebrows flew somewhere north of his hairline. “You kids didn’t seriously think—Frank? Steal the silver pumpkin?”
“NAPKIN?” bellowed Elmer, who had spotted the donuts too.
“PUMPKIN!” Augustus bellowed back.
“I HAVE NAPKINS IN THE TRUCK!”
Augustus did a face-palm as Elmer trotted off.
My friends and I looked at each other in dismay. This was more than discouraging; this was disastrous for the Pumpkin Falls Private Eyes. Our final suspect had just gone down in flames. How were we ever going to face Officer Tanglewood now? We’d never hear the end of it.
One good thing came out of the rehearsal, though. We finally came up with a plan for getting back to Cherry Island. Or at least my friends did.
“You know,” said Calhoun, taking a bite of donut, “since we’re going to be at the lake later this afternoon anyway for our performance, it’s the perfect opportunity to go back and look for the underwater cave.”
“There’ll be a ton of people around, though,” Cha Cha pointed out. “How are we going to slip away?”
“Could
