The Pink Sneakers Club: Sometime Around Midnight. Christian Bertoni

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СКАЧАТЬ a nice house and little beneath my parents taste since they seem to have a flare for the ostentatious. I actually like it a little more than my current house. It seems less cold. If that makes any sense.

      When you walk in, to your right is a great big living room that opens into the kitchen. In the center of the living area is a slightly curved staircase with a wooden banister. On the right side of the staircase heading towards the kitchen is a door that leads to the basement. The kitchen itself is quite modernized with the usual amenities: island, stainless steel refrigerator, six-burner stove, dual oven and a large breakfast area. Off the kitchen is the dining room and off of that is a formal living room.

      Down the hall from the living room is a full bathroom with bathtub and shower, a master bedroom also with a full bath and a study. Upstairs has one full bathroom, my room, and a guest room. Backyard has a large pool with a patio.

      Changing the subject, because I don’t want to talk about the house anymore. Since we’ve become somewhat . . . famous per se, people have been asking us to solve things for them. Things like Randi’s neighbor from across the street asking us to find her little black dog. I think she said the dog’s name was Smokee I’m not sure, we’re still looking for the dog. Right now we have another case, Randi’s next door neighbor, Mrs. Myers, has hired us to find out what happened to her cat. I mean she knows it’s dead but she wants us to find out who killed her cat. So that’s what we’re doing right now, understanding how the cat died.

      “Kaye, pull the flap back a little.”

      I cut a piece of its fur from the top of its head to reveal the crushed skull.

      “Oh God I think I’m gonna puke.” Natalie said.

      “Don’t! If you throw up I’m going to throw up, and I don’t feel like throwing up.” Randi said.

      “Eww. Well no one feels like throwing up.” Caren said.

      “See,” I said examining the skull, “somebody crushed its head in. See the bone fragments? Somebody hit it either with a brick or a rock but somebody purposely killed this cat.”

      “Man that sucks.” Kaye chimed in.

      I looked over at Randi who looked worried, “what’s wrong?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Bull.” Kaye said. “What’re you thinking?”

      “Nothing. Just processing that’s all. Let’s go give Mrs. Myers the bad news.”

      We wrapped the body up in plastic bag then gently placed it in a trash bag and left Randi’s backyard.

      Randi’s mother was in the kitchen making lunch when we walked in, “mom we’re going over to Mrs. Myers.”

      “What did you guys find out?”

      Natalie answered, “somebody killed it.”

      “Really? Too bad. Poor Patricia. So now what?”

      Randi answered this time, “don’t really know.”

      “Lunch will be ready soon.”

      “Okay. We’ll be back.” Randi said.

      Randi

      Chapter 3

      Oh hell no! You can disregard what Natalie just said about me coming in second. I’ve got a 5.0 right now on my GPA. She can be my Soliditorian.

      That’s what you get for being nice and letting someone new go first.

      Let me fill you in on what’s happened so far: Kaye’s parents are dead. I don’t mean to sound insensitive I just don’t know any other way to say it. It turns out her dad sounded the horn that started a chain reaction that lead to the death of Belinda and Bill Moss. Ben Lacey; you remember him? His brother worked for Marcus Bell who in turn worked for the Russians. He was killed. His brother not Marcus Bell. Just clarifying for you. Anyhoo, Ben was stabbed but he’s gonna be okay. He’s still in the hospital and him and Deirdre had their first date about a week ago, in the hospital. She brought Chinese food and they watched movies. I don’t know why she didn’t tell you that maybe she feels embarrassed. I thought it was cute. Kaye moved in with Caren and I think that should pretty much – oh wait I almost forgot Mark didn’t get out. Apparently District Attorney Martin King won’t let him out, believes he’s guilty. But he doesn’t know me very well! I’m not giving up.

      Anyways, as Deirdre told you in just a few short weeks we’ve become local heroes. You can’t help but walk down the street with people calling out your name or asking for your autograph (that one’s really cool).

      We’re on our first real case since the Russians. Since the Russians. Listen to me, how cool is that? Okay. Okay. Enough about me. You talk about me. Kidding! Man, what’d you guys do take a vacation and lose your sense of humor?

      This time we’re investigating something small.

      Mr. and Mrs. Myers have been our next door neighbor since we moved here in 2000. As a matter of fact it was Mr. Myers who sold us our house. They’re a nice old couple who’ve had this cat as long as I’ve known’em. So it’s really sad now that I get to tell her that someone purposely killed Sam.

      We all went next door, I got to be the lucky one carrying the dead cat. Yay me. Natalie rang the doorbell.

      Mrs. Myers answered the door, “Randi! Ladies please come in.” She stepped aside letting us walk in. Her house had the exact same floor plan as Deirdre’s rental.

      Her husband still worked in real estate, part time now, while she was a stay at home mom.

      I always got along with them, but their grandson? That’s a different story! Jackson Davis is what I term a ginger. Meaning he’s got red hair. Well it’s more orange but you get the picture. He’s my age but got held back a year ‘cause . . . well, he’s an idiot. He’s really creepy and obnoxious, always coming out to talk to me every time I go outside.

      He lives with his grandparents but I don’t really know why. Probably cause his mom and dad thinks he’s an idiot. I’m just kidding I really don’t know why.

      Okay, so we sat down on her very chic, antique couch, which may look elegant and classy but it’s so not comfortable.

      Now Mrs. Myers is an unusual woman. For one thing she’s got great posture and dresses like some kind of royal person or something. I’m not really sure how old she is, definitely older than my mom. She looks good you can’t deny that, she is definitely a pretty woman. She’s still blond very few wrinkles and what wrinkles she has, kinda make her look . . . not so old. Right?

      I handed her the trash bag with the cat inside,

      “I’m sorry.” With a forced smile she said, “thank you.” Then she just stared at the bag on her lap before she looked up, “so, tell me.”

      I took a deep breath, “Samantha was killed.” Another deep breath, “on purpose.”

      “Why? She never СКАЧАТЬ