“We are so lame!” Violet clapped her hand over her mouth to cover her yawn after I nudged her awake. “I swear we only closed our eyes for a second.”
“It’s my fault,” I confessed. “I should have made sure you were up before I fell asleep.”
Noah groaned and held his stomach. “And I shouldn’t have fallen asleep before we figured out our shifts. Blame it on a sugar coma. Too. Much. Pie.”
“There’s no such thing.” Violet reached for the empty pie tin. She ran her finger over a tiny blob of leftover blueberry goo, and popped it in her mouth. Then she peeked out of the lean-to.
“I have an idea. Come on, guys.” She wriggled from the shelter and headed straight toward Walter’s trailer.
“I’m pretty sure he’s not home,” I said, but we followed her anyway.
“Who cares? Maybe he left the fanny pack inside.” She climbed the front steps and reached for the door handle.
My stomach tightened into a fat knot. And while I didn’t want to stomp on Violet’s idea, at least I had to tell her what I was thinking. “Breaking in is a big deal, you know.”
“Not to mention against the law,” Noah added.
“Technically it isn’t breaking in. It turns out Walter didn’t lock his door.” She pushed it wide open.
Tell that to the police, right?
“What if he just ran out to get something and he’ll be right back? We could get caught,” I said.
“Madison, don’t be a chicken, OK?” Violet disappeared inside.
I turned super sweaty from my forehead to my toes. My heart raced. I should have told her to stop right then and there because I knew what we were doing was dead wrong. I just couldn’t bring myself to put my foot down. Not to my best friend. Maybe I really was a chicken.
Noah followed her. I gave in and walked through the door.
“Let’s do this fast, please,” I whispered, even though no one was around to hear but us.
My eyes darted around the room and landed on the kitchen table. In the center was the old black-and-white photo of the prom couple. It had been pulled from its frame and its edges were cracked and dirty. I flipped it over. On the back, written in loopy blue ink, it said Walter and Betty. It was Walter in the picture? He looked so young and happy.
“Check this out,” I said.
Violet picked up the picture and stared. “Whoa. Do you think Betty was Walter’s wife?”
“What do you think happened to her?” Noah asked, and I wondered the same thing too.
Violet put the picture back, and we searched every nook and cranny in Walter’s house as I tried to ignore my stomach knot. Finally, Violet declared that we’d come up empty. The pouch was officially gone.
Now what?
That’s when we heard the distant ding of someone pulling into the gas station. I froze.
“What if it’s Walter? Let’s get out of here.” Noah scurried to the front door.
“No, the back way,” I said. “If he drives up front, we don’t want him to see us coming out of his house.” Noah gave me the thumbs up and I started for the rear screen door.
We slipped outside and crept around to the front of the trailer.
But the van was still missing in action. Over at the gas station, Mike was waiting for us by his car. We ran over to greet him.
“I had a feeling you kids might need a ride.” He opened the passenger door and gave a royal bow. “Your carriage awaits.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t leave yet,” said Violet. “We have a little unfinished business.”
“I don’t think Walter will be back any time soon,” I said. I have no idea how I knew that, except I could feel it in every pore of my body. I slid into the car while Noah ran back to retrieve the picnic basket.
On the drive back, Violet, Noah, and I sat in silence.
“Rough night?” Mike finally asked.
“You can say that again. Not only is Walter a liar fifty percent of the time, he’s a hundred percent double-dealing rat,” Violet said. “He stole the fanny pack.”
Mike let out a low whistle. “And right from under your noses? Boy, that stinks.”
“We messed up and fell asleep,” I admitted.
“Ouch. But you know, the guy has to make it into town sometime or another. Nobody stays hidden for long around here. You’ll find him.”
Mike dropped us off at Grandma Daisy’s. “Gotta open up the shop. With Fiesta tomorrow, the Wildflower’s going to be a mob scene.”
When we walked in, Leroy practically bowled me over with kisses. His tail wagged so fast it became a blur. He trotted behind us to the kitchen, where Grandma Daisy scrambled eggs with Hatch green chiles, a spicy New Mexican delicacy.
“Welcome back. Is everybody hungry?” She ladled the eggs onto four plates.
“I’m still full from last night.” Noah groaned.
“Thanks for sending the picnic,” I said.
Noah and I picked at the eggs. Violet managed to wolf down half of hers before stopping.
None of us said a word. We didn’t have to. All Grandma Daisy had to do was take a good look at our faces.
“Oh dear. I’m afraid to ask how it went.”
We confessed we’d fallen asleep on the job.
“A rookie mistake,” admitted Noah.
“I could kick myself,” I said. “I really messed up.”
“I guess that makes us the Mighty Trio of Idiots,” Violet added.
“Don’t be so hard on yourselves. Everyone makes mistakes. And you know why?” Grandma Daisy asked.
“Because they’re really, really stupid like us?” Violet took another bite of her eggs.
Grandma Daisy patted Violet’s hand. “No, it’s because we’re all really, really human. And if anyone here thinks they’ll never make another mistake, raise your hand.”
We all sat there—Grandma Daisy, Violet, Noah, and me—our hands resting on the table. Not even Leroy raised a paw, because sometimes I think he believes he’s human, too.
Grandma Daisy drummed her fingers on the kitchen table. “Now, what are we going to do about Walter Brinker?”
We didn’t have a second to think about it. We were interrupted by a sharp banging on the back screen door. It was Florida, mad enough to spit nails.
“Daisy.” Florida’s voice sounded bitter cold.
“Good morning, Florida. Is something wrong?” She ignored my grandmother’s nasty tone.
“Yes, something is wrong. Angela has run away. The school just called to say she didn’t show up this morning. Would you know anything about that?”
“Oh dear, I don’t. How terribly upsetting.” Grandma Daisy’s eyes clouded with worry.
Then Florida glared at Violet, Noah, and me. “Well, well. It looks like you three are playing hooky too. Is it possible you had something to do with this?”
“Uh, no, Mrs. Brown,” I squeaked.
“Honestly, not at all,” said Noah.
“If I discover you’re lying, I’ll have no problem tracking down your parents and giving them a piece of my mind.”
Good luck with that, I thought.
Violet kicked me under the table and we shared a look, which Florida saw. Her face screwed up in a sneer.
For a split-second I questioned why we were even bothering to help my grandmother. Although I knew that in the long run, Florida-of-the-future would learn how to be a little bit nicer.
“What if something bad happened to her?” Noah asked.
I knew that wherever my mother was, she was safe. If something really terrible had happened, she would have told me about it back when we lived on Bainbridge Island. My guess? She’d run away because she and Florida had a fight.
“Oh please. I doubt it. She’s probably sulking somewhere after picking a silly little battle with me this morning.”
See? Just as I thought.
“We can help you look for her,” I offered.
“Yep. Just call us CSI: Truth or Consequences,” Violet said.
“Excuse me? CSI?” Florida’s forehead scrunched up in confusion.
Uh-oh. The detective show, CSI, wouldn’t be on television for years.
“She only means we’ll be great sleuths,” Noah said.
“Do whatever you please. If you find her, make sure you tell her she’s going to be in a load of trouble when she gets home.”
With that, Florida slammed the door and stomped back down the steps.
Great. Walter had disappeared with the fanny pack. My mom was missing. And Florida was still lying on her deathbed in the future. I longed to talk to Rosalie Claire and ask her what to do, but I knew we were on our own.
“I’m going to look for my mom,” I said.
“We’re coming with you,” said Violet.