Who Stole Mr. T? (Leila and Nugget Mystery Book 1) Read online

  “Oh no,” Javy said. “It’s OK, we were just…”

  “Come in so I can close this door and stop letting all the heat out!” Mrs. Crenshaw snapped. Javy and Leila quickly stepped inside. “Take off your shoes,” Mrs. Crenshaw instructed. They obeyed. “You two came at a good time. Can you hold this for me?” She handed Javy a dustpan.

  “Oh, uh, sure,” Javy said.

  While Javy helped Mrs. Crenshaw sweep the floor, Leila looked around. The house was brighter than she’d expected. Everything seemed to sparkle — especially the kitchen. She set Nugget down to explore. She knew she wouldn’t be allowed to snoop around a stranger’s house, but a cute, little doggy could get away with it. Maybe he’d find Mr. T or at least sniff out a clue. But as soon as Leila set him down, Nugget barreled for a tote bag in the kitchen. “Nugget!” Leila yelled after him. Too late. He’d already shoved his head and half his body inside, so when he looked at her, he was half-dog, half-bag. “I’m sorry about my dog,” Leila said as she ran over to Nugget. But before she could reach the bag, Nugget heard the heater turn on, shook off the bag and curled up in front of the vent.

  Mrs. Crenshaw seemed to be losing patience with the two kids. “How can I help you?”

  “We’re looking for my pet turtle,” Javy said. “Have you seen him?”

  “Not since he finished off the last of my roses this summer,” Mrs. Crenshaw answered flatly.

  Javy’s face turned red. “OK,” he said as he turned to leave. “Thank you for your time.”

  Leila wasn’t about to give up that easily. “This morning,” she said. “Did you see him when you went to Javy’s house this morning?”

  That seemed to startle Mrs. Crenshaw, which made Leila happy. Good detectives are always startling people. “How did you know that?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked. “Were you spying on me?”

  “Oh no!” Leila said. “I was just, uh, I mean…”

  Javy jumped in. “Leila’s a detective!” he said.

  That made Mrs. Crenshaw crack a small smile for the first time all morning. “A detective?”

  Leila blushed. “Oh no, not really a detective. I mean, well you see, we just noticed footprints going from your house to Javy’s back door. And so we were wondering what you were doing there this morning. That’s all.”

  Mrs. Crenshaw tilted her head a bit, a full smile on her face now. “You followed footprints? That sure sounds like something a detective would do to me.”

  Leila blushed even redder if that were possible.

  “Well,” Mrs. Crenshaw said, “this morning, I recognized the red van in the Martinezes’ driveway. It was the same company that helped me with my kitchen. Did you notice the name on the van?”

  Leila shook her head.

  “You need to pay attention to these things,” Mrs. Crenshaw said. “That’s what good detectives do. It’s ‘Margolis Construction.’ Anyway, they did a good job on my kitchen, but they never took their shoes off and ended up tracking mud everywhere. It took me a week to scrub everything. I wanted to warn Mrs. Martinez so she wouldn’t have the same problem.”

  “So you didn’t take Mr. T?” Javy asked.

  “No dear,” Mrs. Crenshaw said. “That turtle and I are not friends, but I would never do anything like that.”

  “I know,” Javy sighed. “I just really wanted to find him, and I thought maybe, I don’t know…”

  “It’s OK,” Mrs. Crenshaw said. “You’ve got to follow the clues. And I did actually see your turtle this morning.”

  “Really?!” Javy perked up.

  Mrs. Crenshaw nodded. “While I was talking to your mom, I noticed your dad holding the turtle in the hallway.”

  “Oh wow!” Javy said. “Do you remember what time it was?”

  “It was around 7:30.”

  “Thank you!” Leila said. “That’s so helpful!”

  “Aren’t you going to write that down?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a clue. You should write it down.”

  “Oh. Well, I don’t really have pen or paper,” Leila said.

  Mrs. Crenshaw thought for a moment. “Let me get you something,” she finally said. She walked upstairs, then came down a few minutes later with an old, hard-bound notepad that said “PRIVATE EYE” on the front. She flipped the crinkly pages until she found a blank one. “Why don’t you use this?”

  Leila wrote down a few clues from their conversation, then flipped through the book. It was filled with neat handwriting, a few drawings and lots of green check marks. “What is this?”

  “When I was your age, I set up a detective agency in my neighborhood where I would solve cases for a nickel each. That was my detective notebook. I always knew how much money I’d made because each case I solved got a green check mark.”

  Leila flipped through the book again, counting all the check marks. “Wow! You were good!”

  Mrs. Crenshaw allowed herself another smile. “To be honest, most of my solutions came from books I was reading. Have you ever read Nancy Drew?”

  “Of course!” Leila said. “All the ones at the library at least.”

  “I read all of them at least five times each,” Mrs. Crenshaw said. Then she leaned in and raised an eyebrow. “I still have all of the originals if you ever want to borrow them.”

  “Wow!”

  Mrs. Crenshaw turned back to Javy. “I’m sorry about your turtle,” she said. “I know mysteries are no fun when you’re the one who’s lost a friend.”

  “We’ll find him,” Javy said.

  Mrs. Crenshaw nodded. “Oh, I know you will. And when you do, we’re going to teach him some rosebush manners!”

  Smudge

  Leila had her head buried in her notebook as she walked out of Mrs. Crenshaw’s house. What could they be missing?

  PIFF! A snowball hit her square in the face.

  “Kait!”

  “What?” Kait rejoined Leila and Javy from her hideout behind Mrs. Crenshaw’s tree. “You wanted a snowball fight, right?”

  “I’m trying to figure something out.”

  They walked in silence for a few seconds so Leila could think, then Kait whispered, “Did she try to cook you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The witch. Did she try to cook you?”

  “OK, we can’t be friends if you’re going to keep calling people names,” Leila said. “Her name is Mrs. Crenshaw. And in fact, she gave us an important clue. She saw Mr. T with Javy’s dad at — let’s see — 7:30 this morning.”

  “That’s right before he leaves for work,” Javy said.

  “So your dad probably took the turtle to the vet or something on his way to work,” Kait said.

  Javy shook his head. “No way. I called him as soon as I woke up, and he didn’t know where Mr. T was.”

  Kait looked at Javy out of the corner of her eye like she felt sorry for him, then said, “Well maybe… Never mind.”

  “What is it?” Javy asked.

  “Well, what if he wasn’t telling the truth?”

  “Are you saying my dad would lie to me?”

  “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sure he didn’t. I barely even know your dad. He seems nice.”

  Leila shot a mean look at Kait. “Why would you say something like that?”

  “Well, it’s just… OK, one time my cousin Clara told me a story. You know my cousin Clara?”

  Leila nodded. Cousin Clara was the one with all of the hard-to-believe stories.

  “OK, well one time Clara told me about her friend Olivia who had a bunny named Smudge. She named him Smudge because he had a black smudge between his eyes that looked like someone had tried to erase something from his forehead. Anyways, Smudge was a great bunny, except he pooped everywhere. Like EVERYWHERE. And you know that bunny poops look kind of like chocolate candies and Olivia had a 2-year-old brother and…”

  “I don’t understand what this gross poo story has to do with Mr. T,” Javy interrupted.

 
“I’m getting there,” Kait said. “So one day, Smudge disappears. Olivia looks everywhere, but she never finds him. She figures he’s run away and gives up looking. Then, a couple weeks later, she goes to Lake Farm Park — that’s the field trip you go on in second grade where they let you milk the cow.”

  “We know,” Leila said. Like Javy, she was also getting impatient with this story.

  “Well sitting right next to the goats is a bunny rabbit that had a black smudge between his eyes. Turns out, it’s Olivia’s bunny. She finds out that her parents had gotten mad at the bunny and decided to give it away to the farm without telling her.”

  Javy looked horrified. Leila just shook her head. “So you’re telling us the parents gave the bunny away because it pooped a lot? Couldn’t they have just kept it in the cage more?”

  Kait shrugged. “I mean it was pooping or chewing stuff or something. I forget exactly, but the point is the bunny was being bad, so her parents gave it away without telling her.”

  Javy was getting upset. “My dad would never give away Mr. T! He — he’s been part of the family my whole life!”

  Kait shrugged. “So was Smudge.”

  “You’re not helping,” Leila hissed at Kait. Then she turned to Javy and tried to calm him down. “That story probably wasn’t true. Kait’s cousin makes stuff up all the time. Let’s focus on what we know. We know Mr. T was in the house at 7:30, right?”

  Javy stopped panicking for a second to nod.

  “And we know that there aren’t any turtle tracks leaving the house, right?”

  Javy nodded again.

  “So he’s probably still in the house!”

  “Unless…”

  That was all Kait could get out before Leila talked over her. “Why don’t we all go back to the house and look for Mr. T again?”

  Javy nodded. “That’s a good idea. We can look for Mr. T until my dad comes home for lunch; then we can ask him what else he knows.” While they walked back to the house, they decided that Javy would search the bedrooms, Kait would tackle the bathrooms and office, while Leila would take the living room and kitchen. “What about Nugget?” Javy asked. “Don’t police use dogs to find missing people sometimes? Maybe Nugget can sniff out Mr. T?”

  Leila looked at Nugget, who was jumping at falling snowflakes. “I don’t think Nugget is that type of dog.”

  Javy wouldn’t give up on his Nugget idea. When they got back to the house, he ran to Mr. T’s home. “This is what the police do,” Javy explained. “They have the dog sniff something from the missing person, so they know what they smell like.” Then he paused. “Huh,” he said.

  “What is it?” Leila asked.

  “I was going to have Nugget sniff Mr. T’s cave — it’s an upside down flowerpot that he likes to crawl into — but it’s gone.”

  “Let’s just start looking in our rooms,” Leila suggested. Everyone agreed that would be best, and they split up. Leila started in the living room with Nugget. Nugget did a great job of searching the room, mostly because he was looking for snacks the whole time. He shoved his nose between cushions, squeezed behind the TV cabinet and Army crawled underneath the chair. No Mr. T, but they did find 57 cents in loose change, some goldfish snacks and a checker.

  The kitchen was a little tougher because of all the construction, but Leila asked one of the workers for help. The guy with the beard seemed mean, so she asked one with a neck tattoo. He turned out to be nice. He moved boxes and opened cabinets for her, but they still couldn’t find Mr. T. Fifteen minutes later, the kids met back in the living room. “Nothing,” Leila said.

  Javy was now wearing a too-big winter hat that covered half his head, making him look especially mopey. “I just found this hat. Are you guys cold too?”

  Kait shook her head.

  Leila wasn’t about to give up. “How about the basement?”

  “Mr. T doesn’t walk down stairs,” Javy said.

  “But you never know!” Leila said. “We’ve got to check everywhere for clues!”

  Javy shrugged, and they all walked downstairs. There wasn’t much to Javy’s basement. A washing machine and dryer stood against one wall, and tool shelves lined another. There were cleaning supplies in the corner, an old ping-pong table covered in boxes taking up the middle of the room, and that was about it. Leila walked around once, then started back up the stairs. Javy stopped her.

  “Wait,” he said. He walked to the ping-pong table and slowly pulled something out of a box. It was Mr. T’s flower pot cave. He then took the box off the table and started sorting through it. It held all of Mr. T’s possessions — food, toys, bowl, everything. It was exactly the type of thing someone would pack before giving away a turtle.

  Just then a screen door closed upstairs. Javy’s dad had come home for lunch.

  The A-Team

  Javy ran up the stairs with tears in his eyes. “DAD!” he yelled. “DAD, HOW COULD YOU?!”

  “I told you,” Kait said to Leila as she turned to follow Javy up the stairs.

  “Save it,” Leila mumbled.

  Upstairs, Mr. Martinez had Javy wrapped in his arms. Nugget had also squeezed himself between the father and son, trying to get a free hug. “What’s wrong?” Mr. Martinez kept asking.

  “He was a good turtle!” Javy said between sobs. “He was such a good turtle! How could you give him away?”

  “Give him away? I didn’t give him away!” Mr. Martinez said. He looked at Javy, then at Leila and Kait. “Why would you even think that?”

  “We followed the clues!” Kait said proudly.

  “Clues? What clues?”

  Javy laid out all the clues for his father the best he could between tears. “There aren’t any turtle tracks outside (sob), and Mrs. Crenshaw saw you holding Mr. T this morning (sob), and then you packed all his stuff in a box to give away (sob).”

  “Oh Javy,” Mr. Martinez said. “I would never give Mr. T away. You know that.”

  “But the box…”

  “I packed his stuff to keep it safe during the construction,” Mr. Martinez said.

  “But you’re the only one who left the house,” Kait said. “And Mr. T isn’t here, so you had to have taken him somewhere.”

  Mr. Martinez seemed annoyed for a second that the neighbor girl kept accusing him of lying, but he could see how upset this was making Javy. He took a breath and slowed things down a bit. “Javy, have I ever told you how Mr. T got in this family?”

  Javy shrugged. “You got him a long time ago, right?”

  “Not just a long time ago. I got him when I was exactly your age.”

  Leila gasped. “But that means that Mr. T must be…” she trailed off.

  “Old?” Mr. Martinez offered.

  Leila blushed.

  “Mr. T is actually 32,” Mr. Martinez said. “That’s a pretty old pet, huh?”

  Leila nodded.

  “In third grade, I had a teacher named Mrs. Stanley. Mrs. Stanley was my favorite teacher ever, mostly because she kept a family of turtles right there in the classroom. She nicknamed the turtles the A-Team after the TV show.”

  Everyone stared blankly at Mr. Martinez.

  “The A-Team? You guys know the A-Team, right? They’d make like flamethrowers out of gas pumps and… You know what? It’s not important. The important thing is that Mrs. Stanley had a rule where if you got an “A” on your homework, you got to help feed the A-Team that day. I wasn’t always the best student, but I loved those turtles so much that I worked extra hard and crushed my homework that year. One turtle in particular was my favorite.”

  “Mr. T?” Javy asked.

  Mr. Martinez nodded. “We started doing this thing where I would hold the food up in the air, and he would jump for it. He wouldn’t do it for anyone else — just me.”

  “His jump trick?” Javy asked. “I thought all turtles did that.”

  “It’s very rare,” Mr. Martinez said. “Anyways, I started coming in early and staying late just to hang out with Mr. T. Mrs. Stanl
ey must have noticed how much I’d bonded with the turtle because she took me aside one day after school and asked if I’d like to keep him. I was so excited that I dragged my mom to the store that night so we could buy every turtle toy they had. I don’t think I slept for three nights. I just stayed up imagining all the adventures I’d have with Mr. T. Well, the day finally arrived when I was supposed to take Mr. T home. It was the last day of school before Christmas break. I showed up to school with a box that had Mr. T’s name on it. Only he was gone.”

  Kait gasped.

  “That’s how I felt too,” Mr. Martinez said. “Mrs. Stanley said that she’d been cleaning the cage that morning, and he just disappeared. She had the whole class search for Mr. T, but nobody found him. After a few hours, everybody else had forgotten about him. We had a party and watched a movie. It was the A-Team holiday special, which made me feel even worse. I remember that the heat was broken that day, so we all wore our coats in the classroom. I buried my head in my coat like a turtle and cried through the whole movie.”

  For the first time that day, Leila thought about how she’d feel if she ever lost Nugget. She decided that it must be the worst feeling in the world. “So what happened?” she asked.

  “We never found him. The end-of-the-day bell rang, and I walked out of class behind a kid named Manny. Manny was part of the AV Club, which meant he helped the teacher wheel in the TV and hook up the video. I remember walking slowly as Manny pushed the TV cart and noticing that his video equipment bookbag looked weird. It had a big bulge in it. I looked closer. Then it started squirming. Manny’s desk was next to mine because our last names were so close, and I remembered how jealous he’d been that I was getting Mr. T. I ran and got Mrs. Stanley, we opened the bookbag, and sure enough, there was Mr. T.

  Kait gasped again. “Did you have him arrested?!”

  “You know what? I couldn’t get mad at him. He wouldn’t even admit to taking the turtle, but I didn’t care. That’s how happy I was to have my buddy back.” Then Mr. Martinez looked at his son. “Javy, I know how it feels to lose a best friend. Believe me, I’d never do that to you.”