Melvin looked up at Candace’s bedroom window. He waited until midnight before tossing the first pebble.
“Hark!” he said when she appeared.
“Wrong story again,” she said. She climbed out of the window and joined him. Then the two of them took off. Or at least Candace did.
Crash!
Splat!
“Hurry up, Melvin,” Candace called, hovering above the trees.
Yes, Melvin, would you get a move on? You’re holding up the story.
“Who said that?” Candace asked.
“Who said what?” Melvin said, launching himself on the fifth try.
“Who said, ‘You’re holding up the story’?”
“Some handsome genius.”
“Who?”
“The narrator. Don’t encourage him.” Melvin zoomed off toward Big Al’s Rent-a-Lair. Candace stayed with him. “Can I kick in the door?” she asked.
Melvin had kicked in the last door. They usually took turns at this, since kicking in doors was a big superhero perk.
“I’m going to try my hand at picking the lock,” Melvin said. “I don’t want Al to know anyone has been here.”
Melvin and Candace snuck around to the lot behind the store. They were surrounded by lairs.
“Look at this,” Candace said. “A lair with a Jacuzzi.”
“You’re one of the good guys. You don’t need a lair.”
“But I’ve never had a lair. Can I have a lair, Melvin? Please, can I?”
Melvin put a finger to his lips. “Shhh!”
“At least you have a hideout. All I have is a stupid bedroom.”
“WOULD YOU BE QUIET!” Melvin had removed a stiff wire from his pocket and grabbed the doorknob. It was unlocked.
“Al forgot to lock up,” Melvin said. “Darn! I wanted to see if I could pick it.”
“Never look a gift-lock in the mouth,” Candace replied. But secretly she had wanted the door to be locked, too, and she’d wanted Melvin to fail at picking it so she could kick it in.
Melvin swung the door open and went inside. Candace followed, holding the flashlight. “What are we looking for?”
“Clues,” Melvin told her.
“I know that. What kind of clues?”
“Receipts. Whoever is after The Grateful Fred may have rented a lair recently.”
Melvin found Al’s office. That door was also unlocked.
“Darn,” Candace said under her breath.
Melvin started going through a filing cabinet. “Uh-oh,” he said. “They had a storewide lair sale last week. They sold a dozen lairs.” Melvin read the sales receipts out loud. “Max the Wonder Thug, Stinky Gillespie, Calamity Wayne. Hey, the McNasty Sisters are in here.”
“So what do we do?”
“We go down the list. See who has a grudge against The Grateful Fred. See who doesn’t have an alibi for the night of the concert.”
“I don’t suppose we could find a door to kick in before we go?” Candace asked. “I’m kind of going through withdrawal.”
“We don’t have time,” Melvin said, stuffing the list in his pocket. “On the next case I’ll let you kick in two doors. How does that sound?”
“That sounds—”
Suddenly something growled at them from the darkness outside the office. Candace swung the flashlight beam and there in the doorway was—
—the biggest dog she had ever seen.
“Holy Rottweiler!” Candace said. She backed up into the office.
Holy Rottweiler, indeed! It was the biggest one they’d ever seen.
And the meanest looking.
Meaner than a school principal on a bad day …
Meaner than the McNasty brothers …
Meaner than a junkyard dog.
Hey, that sounds like a song.
The dog drooled a lot too–like it was going out of style. Melvin and Candace backed farther into the room.
“What’s the plan, Melvin? We need noggin power and we need it now!”
The dog growled again and moved toward them.
“Melvin?” Candace said in a very unsuperhero voice.
“How do you feel about kicking in a wall?” Melvin said. “It’s our only way out. Go for it, Candace.”
Candace didn’t need to be told twice. She kicked through the wall and Melvin followed her out. They found themselves in the back lot of Rent-a-Lair, the dog hot on their tail.
“In there,” Melvin said, pointing to the lair with the Jacuzzi.
They ran inside and slammed the door just ahead of the dog. Candace flashed her light around. “I’m asking for a raise in my allowance. I gotta get one of these.”