Boardwalk Bust Read Free Page A

baby.
    â€œGot a good lie?” Joe whispered to me.
    â€œI’ll make one up.”
    â€œOh, my goodness!” our mom gasped when she came into the kitchen and saw us.
    â€œHoly mackerel!” Aunt Trudy nearly dropped the folded sheet she was holding.
    Playback whistled long and low. “Aaawrk! Bad boys! Bad boys!”
    â€œJoe! Your eye!” Mom said. “What in the world happened to you two? And no crazy made-up stories this time.”
    â€œWell,” I began, “we kind of got caught in this grain bin … doing some research on farm safety devices …”
    â€œYeah!” Joe chimed in. “It’s an over-the-summer school assignment!”
    â€œGrain bin?” Aunt Trudy repeated. “Summer
assignment
? Ha! A likely story. They were probably at it again, Laura—chasing after another gang of crooks!”
    â€œNow, Gertrude,” our mom said, putting a calming hand out. “Don’t condemn the boys before you check the evidence.”
    She went over to Joe and gently picked off a few grains of corn from his collar. “See? Corn. They’re obviously telling the truth this time.”
    â€œHmph,” Aunt Trudy said. “Don’t tell me. Evidenceor no evidence, I know these two, and they’ve been up to no good.”
    â€œCrime-fighting isn’t exactly being ‘up to no good,’ Aunt Trudy,” Joe said.
    Aunt Trudy raised one eyebrow, and Joe stopped right there.
    â€œYou’d better get yourselves cleaned up,” she said. “These sheets will be all wrinkled by the time they get folded.”
    â€œHop to it!” Playback squawked. “Hop to it!”
    We ran up the stairs and got washed and changed as fast as we could, then came back down and started folding the sheets.
    This has been a regular drill around our house since Joe and I were five years old. Every Saturday, Mom and Trudy wash the sheets, and Joe and I fold them. At this point we could do it in our sleep.
    Still, Aunt Trudy never stops telling us how to do it just right. She’s a laundry fanatic, coaching us like we’re medical students doing our first brain surgery. Everything has to be done
exactly
her way.
    â€œPull on it—no, not like that … that’s better. Left front corner over right rear, now right front over left rear … and make sure the corners match up!”
    Et cetera.
    After a half dozen or so sheets, we were just about done folding when the doorbell rang.
    â€œI’ll get it!” Joe said, eager to be the first one out of there.
    Too late. I had already beaten him to it, dumping the sheet in his arms and heading for the front door.
    â€œHey!” I heard him shout behind me.
    I opened the door—to find a Girl Scout, of all things.
    â€œHi!” she said, flashing me a big smile that showed off her very shiny metal braces. She had to be at least thirteen, maybe closer to fifteen. Kind of old for a Girl Scout …
    â€œWanna buy some cookies?”
    She held out a box of Thin Mints.
    â€œUm, no thanks,” I said. “I think we’ve still got a few boxes from the last time. Hey, come to think of it, weren’t you just here last month selling cookies? I thought it was a once-a-year kind of thing.”
    â€œOh!” she said, her cheeks reddening. “Well, that was, um, another Girl Scout troop. Yeah, that’s right. Our troop does it a month later.” She laughed nervously.
    â€œOh, yeah? How come?”
    â€œUm, just to be different?”
    She shrugged her shoulders and giggled some more.
    This was getting weird.
    I had half a mind to say, “No, thanks” again and get it over with. We had enough Girl Scout cookies in the pantry. But this girl was pretty cute—even with her braces. And when cute girls smile at me, it always makes me nervous. I kind of choke up and, well … I start acting like a complete moron.
    â€œHmmm,” I said.