The Case of the Best Pet Ever Read online

  “Danika thinks some of the cages are too small,” Mila explained.

  My list of suspects was growing. Danika Starling is room 201’s biggest animal lover. I wondered if she was mad enough at the pet store to steal.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Mila said. “You should enter Rags in the contest.”

  “Rags? In a talent show?” I laughed. “Rags is a good dog, but he doesn’t exactly have any talents.”

  “It will get you behind the scenes,” Mila urged. “It might help us break the case.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “And I’ll get laughed at when Rags sleeps through the whole thing!”

  Chapter

  5

  The Case of the Missing Talent

  “Little Holmes!” Jax greeted me when I walked in the store.

  “Hi, Jigsaw,” Rain said. “I was just telling Dad that you’re a detective. Are you here to solve the mystery?”

  “Actually, my mom is parked outside,” I said. “I just want to enter Rags in the contest.”

  “Awesome, Little Holmes!” Jax shouted again.

  “Dad loves Sherlock Holmes,” Rain explained.

  I nodded politely and tried to put a smile on my face. Little Holmes? Yuck. Theodore was bad enough. I didn’t need another name. “You can call me Jigsaw,” I suggested.

  Jax was a suspect. By pretending that the grand prize was stolen, he wouldn’t have to spend money on a giveaway. It was definitely a motive. The oldest one in the world, in fact. Money.

  I went over the list of suspects. Rain said the older couple never even came to the front counter. So they couldn’t have done it.

  That left four suspects: Solofsky, Danika, Jax, and Rain. I needed proof. Hard facts. Right now, it was like trying to do a puzzle with some of the pieces missing.

  “What talent does your dog have?” Rain asked.

  “That’s the problem,” I grumbled. “He doesn’t seem to have one.”

  Rain pinched her lower lip thoughtfully. “All animals have talent. You could give Rags a doggy IQ test,” she suggested.

  “Brilliant idea!” Jax cheered. He fished around the cluttered counter until he found a magazine article. He handed it to me. The headline read: HOW SMART IS YOUR DOG?

  “Thanks,” I said, shoving the magazine into my backpack.

  Squawk! “Funny ferret! Funny ferret!”

  I nearly jumped out of my socks in surprise. “Yowza!” I exclaimed.

  Rainbow and Curiosity, the cat and the ferret, darted across the floor. Clang, ka-boom! They knocked over a display of cat toys.

  Rain looked at me and laughed. “It’s just the animals.”

  Squawk. “Just the animals! Just the animals!” echoed the parrot.

  Rain excused herself to see to another customer. That’s when I got a crazy idea. I walked up to Polly the parrot. “Okay, my feathered friend,” I whispered to Polly. “It looks like you’re my only witness. Tell me. Do you think Rain took the prize?”

  Squawk. “Rain took the prize! Rain took the prize!”

  “Good work, Little Holmes!” Jax shouted happily. “You’ve solved the mystery! Far-out!”

  “Very funny, Dad,” Rain said. “Polly only repeats what she hears!”

  I laughed it off, too. Very funny. Ha-ha. But deep down inside, I had a feeling that Polly was trying to tell me something.

  “Hey, Dad, have you seen my sparkly hair clip?” Rain asked Jax. “I’m sure I left it here on the counter.”

  I suddenly noticed Bobby Solofsky staring inside the store, his nose smushed against the front window. He looked sad and lonely. After I filled in the contest entry form, I went outside to talk to him.

  “How’s Bubbles?” he asked me.

  “Bubbles?”

  “The white puppy,” he said. “Does she seem happy?”

  “Sure, Solofsky,” I said. “I guess so. I mean, about as happy as a puppy in a pet store can be. But between us, I think Bubbles needs a boy.”

  Solofsky’s face brightened. “You do?”

  “Every puppy needs a kid,” I said. “Don’t you know that?”

  I headed toward my mom’s car. Rain’s sparkly hair clip was missing. And Bobby Solofsky hadn’t even been in the store. Neither was Danika.

  Very interesting.

  Chapter

  6

  IQ Test

  Rain and Billy showed up at my house like two little lovebirds, arm in arm.

  Yuck.

  “You’re just in time for the doggy IQ test,” I told them.

  Mila read aloud from the magazine. “It says here that the best way to measure your dog’s IQ is to test his problem-solving skills. It also says that smart dogs obey well.”

  “Sit!” I commanded Rags. He wagged his tail and barked.

  “Well, he’s awake,” Billy noted cheerfully. Rain giggled.

  “Hey, Rain,” I asked. “I was wondering. Do you know what the missing grand prize was worth?”

  Billy eyed me closely.

  “I sure do,” Rain answered. “Dad told me it cost forty-five dollars.”

  Sometimes a detective has to stir things up just to see how they fall. Half smiling, I asked Rain: “You didn’t take the grand prize for yourself, did you?”

  Billy gave me a funny look. “Hey, what are you asking, Jigsaw?”

  Rain smiled. “It’s okay, Billy. Jigsaw is a detective. He has to look at all the possible suspects.”

  I could see why Billy liked her.

  “Believe me, Jigsaw,” Rain said. “I’m not happy about this missing prize, either. After all, the talent show was my idea.”

  Mila twirled her hair. I could tell we were thinking the same thing. Rain wouldn’t ruin her own talent show. And come to think of it, Rain wouldn’t take her own hair clip, either.

  Mila spoke up. “Back to the IQ test! First, put a towel over Rags’s head. We have to time how long it takes for him to shake it off.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Rags was asleep under the towel. It was pretty clear he had flunked the test. Billy and Rain got bored and went outside. Mila had to go home for a piano lesson. I sat alone, staring at my sleeping dog.

  I had to come up with a new trick for Rags. I decided to teach him to steal a shoe on command. All he had to do was pick up a shoe and drop it in a box. It wasn’t the greatest trick in the world, but it was better than nothing.

  I pulled the towel off his head. That only made Rags snore louder.

  Later that night, after a long bath, I called Mila on the phone. “Tomorrow, we’ve got a secret mission,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, what’s that?” Mila asked.

  I took a deep breath. “I have to search Solofsky’s room. And I can’t do it without your help.”

  “But I thought you didn’t think Solofsky took the medal,” Mila replied.

  “I didn’t,” I said, “and I don’t. But we need to make sure. Are you willing to help?”

  Chapter

  7

  Dropping Clues

  I’d never seen Solofsky so down and out. All day in school, he just slumped in his chair and sighed. When he answered the door at his house, he looked about as happy as a cat in a car wash.

  “Hi, Solofsky,” I said.

  “If you say so.” He groaned.

  “We came over to review the case,” I told him.

  He nodded.

  “The contest is two days away,” Mila said, “and all we’ve found are dead ends.”

  “Is there somewhere private we can go?” I asked. “Your bedroom, maybe?”

  Thankfully, Solofsky had no problem with that idea. Once we were inside his room, it was just a matter of getting a good look around.

  Solofsky’s room was a disaster area.

  He frowned. “My dad says I have to clean my room or he’s going to explode.”

  “It looks like there’s already been an explosion,” Mila commented. She picked up a few toys from the floor.

  Solofsky picked up a Lego rocket ship and careless
ly set it on a shelf. It dropped to the floor with a crash, breaking into pieces.

  Solofsky just sighed.

  He slumped on the bed, his head in his hands. “Sorry, guys. Maybe you should go. I don’t feel like doing anything.”

  “No!” Mila exclaimed. She gave me a worried look. “I mean, oh, no … you don’t. We’ll help you clean up your room. That always makes me happy!”

  “It does?” I asked.

  Mila gave me a sharp poke in the ribs. “Yes, detective, it does,” she insisted.

  “Right, right!” I agreed. I understood the plan. By cleaning up, we could search Solofsky’s room and he wouldn’t suspect a thing.

  I picked up a smelly sock. Phew.

  “I’ll straighten up your desk,” Mila offered. She opened drawers and shuffled papers.

  I cleared my throat. “Hey, Solofsky. You got any grape juice in the house?”

  “I could make some Kool-Aid,” he offered.

  “That’d be great,” I said, clapping him on the back. “You go do that while Mila and I search, er, I mean, clean your room.”

  Mila and I went through all of Solofsky’s things. I patted down the clothes in his closet. I searched likely hiding places—under his mattress, inside his shoes, on top of high shelves.

  All I found was a stale bag of Doritos, an old banana, and a can of flat ginger ale. No grand prize anywhere.

  When Bobby came back to the room, he seemed to be in a better mood. “I heard other stuff was missing from the store,” he said. “Doesn’t that clear me of the crime?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “You won’t be in the clear until we find the real thief.”

  “Or thieves,” Mila said.

  “Thieves?” Solofsky wondered.

  “It could be more than one person,” I said. “Anything is possible.”

  Solofsky sighed. He gathered up the comic books and carelessly threw them on his bedside table. They toppled over onto the carpet.

  He suddenly turned and looked at us with desperate eyes. “You’ve gotta help me,” he pleaded. “I’ve got to be allowed back in that store. Jigsaw, Mila—you’re my last hope.”

  Chapter

  8

  Tricky Business

  Before class started on Friday morning, I sat down at my desk to read through my detective journal. But it was hard to think. Everyone was talking about the talent show.

  Kim Lewis was training a jumping frog. Nicole Rodriguez claimed she had a cat that could do backflips. Helen Zuckerman wouldn’t stop talking about her poodle. She said it spoke French.

  Joey had, thankfully, given up the idea of dressing his cat. Instead, he was trying to train a worm to roll over.

  “How’s it coming along?” I asked Joey.

  He shrugged. “It’s hard. Wormy doesn’t understand me. I don’t think he has ears.”

  I closed my notebook and got out my animal behavior folder. I’d been so busy with the case that I hadn’t done the homework. I started a list:

  RAGS

  1.  He sleeps.

  2.  He drools.

  3.  He barks at the doorbell.

  I tapped my eraser and tried to think of a good number four. I thought about what we do when Rags and I are together. The truth is, Rags doesn’t do much. But somehow, he’s good company anyway. I started to write “good company,” but I erased it. It wasn’t really a behavior.

  Then I thought about our training sessions. Rags had learned to pick up a shoe on command, but he always missed the box when he set it down. I added to my list:

  4.  He never gets things where he means to put them.

  That was it! I suddenly realized Bobby and Rags had something in common.

  I scribbled a coded message and passed it to Mila:

  W MST G T TH STR FTR SCHL. THNK KNW WHR TH PRZ S!

  She read it, smiled, and rubbed a finger across her nose. “We must go to the store after school. I think I know where the prize is!” She got the message!

  Chapter

  9

  The Hiding Place

  I had the answer and it didn’t get anyone in trouble! The thief wasn’t Rain or Jax or Bobby. At least, not really Bobby. Not on purpose, anyway.

  “Hi, Jax!” I called out as Mila and I walked into the store on Friday afternoon.

  “Mila! Little Holmes! What’s up?” Jax greeted us.

  “Jigsaw thinks he may have solved the case,” Mila said proudly.

  “Far-out!” Jax exclaimed.

  I got down on my hands and knees and searched the floor. I was sure Bobby had meant to put the prize back on the counter, but missed. I’d seen him do the same thing when putting stuff away in his room. He was careless with the Legos, and they fell. Same thing with the comic books. Bobby is just like Rags! They never get things where they mean to put them!

  I was sure that the prize had fallen to the floor and got kicked under the counter. But I was wrong. There was nothing there but some dust bunnies. It hadn’t even been swept out lately.

  “Rats!” I muttered.

  “Last cage on the left,” Jax said.

  “No,” I said. “I mean rats! I was wrong. Rats!”

  “Rats! Rats!” the parrot squawked.

  A woman at the counter looked startled.

  “It’s cool, ma’am,” Jax reassured her. “No rats on the loose. Just a talking parrot!”

  Suddenly, Rainbow and Curiosity made one of their mad dashes through the store. Curiosity stopped, spun, and began to nibble on the silver buckle of the woman’s shoe.

  Naturally, the woman screamed.

  The parrot kept squawking, “Rats! Rats!”

  The woman, looking flustered, patted her pockets. “My keys,” she said, looking around the store in alarm. “I don’t seem to have my keys!”

  One more mystery to solve!

  That night, I was as frustrated as a dentist in a candy store. I still had no answers for the case. There was a robber in that pet store, all right. But I couldn’t figure out who it was.

  I decided to work on the trick with Rags. I gave him a shoe and pointed to the box.

  “Rags!” I yelled. “Don’t just drop it on the floor!”

  My dad stuck his head in from the kitchen. “Having a tough time with old Rags?”

  “He’s hopeless!” I complained. “What a useless dog!”

  Right away, I felt bad for saying it.

  Even Rags seemed to understand. He looked at me with hurt eyes.

  “I guess you haven’t been able to teach that old dog a new trick,” my father said. He gave Rags a friendly pat.

  “No, I haven’t,” I growled.

  “Well, don’t give up on Rags. He’ll learn. It just may take some time. Besides, Rags thinks you’re about the greatest person on the planet. Look how he watches you, Jigsaw,” Dad said.

  I looked at Rags. And he looked at me. And I remembered all the good times we had together. Squirting him with a hose. Pretending he was a turkey and chasing him around the yard on Thanksgiving. Sleeping together in my bed, snug and warm.

  That’s what he did best of all, I realized. The big fur ball loved me with all his heart. Every minute of every hour of every day.

  And that’s no small trick.

  My father patted me on the shoulder. “A wise man once said, ‘Try to be the person your dog thinks you are.’”

  He smiled and headed back into the kitchen. “I have an important meeting with a cheesecake,” he explained. Rags followed him. Rags liked cheesecake, too.

  Later that night, after I finished my spelling homework, I grabbed a plastic bag. It was time to walk Rags. But I could only find one of my sneakers.

  “Rags,” I muttered to myself. “Now he’s going after my shoes.”

  I wanted to catch him in the act. I looked high. I looked low. No Rags. I tried the basement. Nothing. When I started back upstairs I heard a noise. I pushed open the door to the furnace room.

  That’s where I saw his tail poking out from behi
nd the furnace.

  “Hey, boy,” I called sweetly.

  Rags popped his head out. My Nike was in his mouth, covered with drool.

  “Gross!” I said. I climbed behind the furnace to grab the shoe.

  That’s when I saw it. His stash. Four of Mom’s missing shoes—and about seventeen socks that I didn’t even know were missing. They were all shoved in a dark corner behind the furnace.

  Ragsy’s treasure.

  Chapter

  10

  Suspects by the Dozen!

  I realized that my dog’s hiding place was the missing piece of the puzzle. Faster than a dog can steal a shoe, it was clear that I had missed dozens of possible suspects. They were all at the scene of the crime—and they were still there!

  It was Saturday. The day of the contest. Mila met me at the store. When Rags and I got there, it was already crowded. Animals were barking and screeching and hissing. Rain was putting the finishing touches on the stage in front of the counter. Folding chairs were set up all the way to the door. The place was a zoo!

  “What’s up?” Mila said when she saw me.

  Woof! Woof!

  I held tight to Ragsy’s leash.

  “Rags gave me a clue!” I said. I told her what I had discovered. “He can’t be the only animal in the world that likes to hide things.”

  “But which animal is it?” Mila asked. “There must be dozens of suspects in the store.”

  Then she snapped her fingers. Mila ran to the photograph on the wall. “Remember Rain’s hair clip?” she exclaimed. “I bet that ferret was going after the clip in this woman’s hair!”

  Sure enough, Mila was right. In the photo with the ferret atop the woman’s head, we could see part of a clip in the ferret’s paws.

  “Jax did say ferrets were always getting into trouble,” I remembered. “But we weren’t paying attention.”

  “Now for the hard part,” Mila said. “We have to find the ferret’s hiding place!”

  Rags and I headed to the back of the store. Mila took the front. Rags was panting and pulling on his leash. More kids were showing up. The show was minutes away and the ferret was nowhere to be seen.