35

The old Grimsley place was a beehive of activity—if the hive were a huge, beautifully refinished house, and the bees were giggly, overexcited eighty-year-olds. Jordan’s parents were running from room to room to room delivering hot tea and fresh cookies, spreading blankets, filling heating pads, fluffing up pillows, and telling bedtime stories. And their children couldn’t remember ever seeing them happier.

Jordan was happy, too, with all the Creature Keeper crew easing so comfortably into a forced and rather violently sudden retirement. He knew they’d want the latest news on the plan to save Nessie, and of course would be eager to hear that Bernard was alive. So Jordan and his sister made their rounds, too, dropping by each bedroom to whisper into hairy old ears what was happening. Jordan was especially surprised at how Abbie seemed to enjoy spending time with the old folks—but decided it was probably best not to point that out to her.

The last room Jordan visited belonged to Doris, on the very top floor. He lugged the old suitcase to the end of the hall, just before the attic stairs. Setting it down outside her door, he entered and offered her a cup of hot cocoa.

“It’s an ancient Skunk Ape recipe.” Jordan smiled. “From an old friend.”

“Thank goodness he’s all right. He gave us all quite a scare.” She smiled and took a sip. “Eldon told me it was your fine detective work in Nessie’s cave that led you to her kidnapper. Any clue where she’s being held now?”

“The Hall of the Chupacabra is in Mexico, but Eldon says its exact location died with my Grampa Grimsley. That evil madman thinks I’m my grandfather, and so assumes I know where to find them.”

“You’re a wonderful boy.” Doris chuckled. “And you’re clearly a Grimsley. But dearie, you’re not your grandfather.”

“I wish I was. I’d lead everyone straight to the Chupacabra’s front door, bang it down, and get Nessie out of there. Gusto must’ve promised that horrible beast he could deliver my grandfather in return for something.”

“Trust me, that cryptid doesn’t work with anyone. It’s always been a loner.”

“I saw it lurking outside the crypto-zoo the night I overheard Gusto talking to Harvey. There’s gotta be a connection, or Gusto wouldn’t have chosen the Mexican location as a trap. But I’m not my grandfather, so I don’t have a clue where they are.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help.”

Jordan remembered something. “You can help me with this.” He got up and carried the suitcase in to her and placed it on the bed.

Doris sat up. She seemed startled. “Where did you get that?”

“Up in the attic. But I need a new place to stash it. Its old hiding place has been taken over by loveseats and tea cozies. Any ideas?”

She stared at the case. “Y’know, I was caretaker of this place for years. Including the night your grandfather died.”

“But he died in the swamp.”

“That stormy night, he showed up in soaking wet pajamas, frightened, saying how he was going to be taken away, wouldn’t be able to continue his life’s work. I’d heard what he’d done, how he was responsible for Skunk Ape Summer, and that he’d been arrested in Leisureville.” She closed her eyes. “I ordered him to leave. He told me that this was his house. That scared me. No one knew but me that I didn’t rightfully own this house. I couldn’t afford him getting me in any trouble. I couldn’t have him here.” A tear ran down her cheek. “So I turned him away. I turned a frightened old man away from his own home.”

“Oh, Doris.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t undo what I did then. But I can help you now.” She placed her bony fingers on the case. “He had this with him. He didn’t want to stay or even hide here. He just wanted me to keep this case. To hide it.” She clicked open the latches. “He showed me what was inside of it. Everything that was inside of it.” She pulled out the Skunk Ape costume, the foot-on-a-stick, the newspaper clippings, setting them aside without looking at them. “He told me if I hid this case, and kept its secret to myself, someday someone who needed it very badly would come. And they would give me something very valuable in exchange for what was hidden inside.”

Her hand slid along the inner lining of the empty suitcase. There was a lump that Jordan hadn’t noticed before. She slowly pulled the fabric from the corner, tearing open the lining. A thin diary tumbled out, followed by a faded old piece of parchment paper.

Jordan looked up at Doris. “Who? Who did he say would come?”

“A boy.” She smiled. “A Grimsley boy. And here you are.”

Awestruck, Jordan lifted the parchment and carefully unfolded it. On it was a hand-drawn map of a mountain, located outside of Mexico City. There were hand-scribbled notes and directions, including what looked like instructions on how and where to enter the mountain. At the bottom of the map, written in large letters, it said, HALL OF CHUPACABRA. POPOCATÉPETL VOLCANO. MEXICO. STAY AWAY!

Jordan looked back at Doris. Her eyes were welled up with tears, but she was now smiling through them. “Doris,” he said quietly. “I have nothing valuable to give you.”

She handed Jordan the diary. “You brought me home. That’s pretty valuable.”

The next morning Jordan and Abbie got up before dawn and crept down the stairs. They didn’t have to worry about being too quiet, since the snoring roar of the old people was louder than a parade of monster trucks filled with hungry walruses.

The sun began to rise as they entered the swamp and made their way to the boathouse. Out of the corner of her eye, Abbie kept catching a glimpse of movement within the shadows as before. She glanced behind her, then leaned forward to whisper to Jordan. “Psst . . . I think that Moth thing might be following us again. . . .”

“Uh-huh.” Jordan was studying the Mexico map as he walked, barely listening to her. Abbie looked back again. She was met with two giant, purple eyes, right behind her.

“Aaaaahhh!”

A tall, gray, slightly furry creature with enormous wings was gliding along with them. Jordan spun around. The shadowy creature wrapped its wings around itself like a cocoon. It stood in one spot, completely frozen.

“Kriss!” It was Eldon, who’d come running from the boathouse dock at the sound of Abigail’s scream. “We’ve talked about this! You can’t just sidle up to people like that!”

“Not cool, bro,” Lou the Jersey Devil said, fluttering awkwardly a few feet off the ground with his too-small wings. “You creep people out. You need to own that.”

Eldon sighed and quickly introduced Jordan and Abbie to the thin, gray husk before them. “Kriss, this is Jordan and Abbie. Guys, this is Kriss. Otherwise known as Mothman.” Eldon began walking back to the dock, with Lou fluttering alongside him. “C’mon, Rangers. Lots to do. Let’s focus up.”

Jordan followed, and Abbie glanced back at Kriss. She was rewarded with a beautiful glowing purple eye that peeked out at her. She smiled slightly, and—WHOOSH!—the Mothman shot straight up in the air with one mighty flap of his wings.

On the dock, Jordan and Abbie were introduced to two others, who looked, Abbie was thankful to see, relatively human. Paco, Mothman’s Creature Keeper, was a tall, slender, well-dressed, bookish-looking boy. As soon as he heard his cryptid had gone into cocoon mode, he ran off in the direction of the incident, muttering, “Not again!”

Lou’s Keeper, Mike, was a lot like the Jersey Devil he was in charge of: brash, bulky, and a bit of a knucklehead. He wore a tank-top shirt under a red velour tracksuit, with gold chains around his neck. He had a bit of a potbelly, and looked like he could be related to Lou, if not for the fact that he didn’t have horns, hooves, or a pointy tail.

“Hey, good to meetcha,” Mike said, grabbing Jordan’s hand a little too hard. “My first time down here in swamptown. Yo, you guys got a deli around here? I’m starvin’.”

“COWABUNGA!” Lou the Jersey Devil suddenly galloped past them down the dock, dived into the water, and began swimming out to the center of the cove. Mike suddenly ran to the end of the dock and egged him on like a gym trainer. “Let’s go! Push it! Feel the burn! You got this!”

Reaching the deep water, Lou dived down. His pointy red tail followed his kicking hooves.

Jordan looked at Eldon. “What’s he doing?”

“Giving Bernard a hand. Badger Ranger rule forty-seven: ‘Nothin’ works like teamwork works!’”

There was a great churning in the water as a familiar oval platform rose out above the surface. It was Gusto’s submarine, and it was moving toward the dock. “I hate that thing,” Jordan muttered.

“Well, you might want to start liking it,” Eldon said. “’Cause it’s all we’ve got.”

The sub rose out of the water, followed by Bernard and Lou. They had it propped on their big shoulders, straining to guide it into the boathouse. They were having a harder time as they got closer into the shallows, and the submarine began to tilt dangerously toward the dock.

WHOOSH! A gray streak suddenly flew in behind them, slamming into the sub and pushing it back up on the two creatures’ shoulders, saving the humans from being squashed like swamp bugs against the foot of the dock. Kriss hovered watchfully as Bernard and Lou gently parked it in the boathouse, then swooped over to the dock and landed silently beside the others.

“See?” Eldon said to Jordan. “What’d I tell ya? ‘Nothin’ works like teamwork works!’”

Abbie stared up at the Mothman, wondering if he was into reptiles.