The Chase for the Mystery Twister Read Free Page A

ones don’t usually last long,” Phil said.
    â€œSmall ones?” Frank repeated in disbelief.
    â€œYeah, that was probably an F two,” Phil explained, surveying the damage around them. “An F five is the biggest. The funnel can be more than three miles across.”
    â€œI’m sure glad we brought our heavy-duty suitcase,” Joe said, walking away from his brother.
    â€œWhere are you going?” Frank asked.
    â€œTo get our luggage,” Joe replied, pointing to their bags, which had been carried out of the back of the pickup and dropped in the field at least fifty yards away.
    As Joe was returning with the suitcases, a man with a bass voice, a brown beard, and wearing glasses strolled over. “Are you all right, Phil?” he asked, seeming preoccupied with the clipboard on which he was feverishly writing.
    â€œFine, Mr. Jansen,” Phil said, coughing again. “A little dusty.”
    Phil introduced Frank, Joe, and Snowdon.
    â€œWelcome to Twister Alley,” Jansen said.
    â€œThanks, we’re glad to . . .” Joe began to reply, but Jansen had moved on, calling out instructions to another member of his team.
    â€œDo you own this farm?” Frank asked Snowdon.
    â€œI wish,” Snowdon replied. “It’s my dad’s. But he’s down in Dallas on business.” Snowdon looked around at the damage caused by the tornado. “Boy, is he in for a surprise when he gets back.”
    The Parlette barn was lying upside down in the middle of an okra field. “I’m just glad that Dad was able to buy tornado insurance last month from good ol’ Toby Gill,” Snowdon added.
    A young woman with long black hair, and wearing faded blue jeans and an untucked flannel shirt, walked up. “Phil, would you mind getting the video camera out of Wind Three?”
    â€œMy pleasure, Diana” Phil replied, then introduced Diana Lucas to his friends.
    â€œSo, Diana, how do you like Oklahoma Tech?” Frank asked.
    â€œFine,” Diana replied, arching her eyebrows, curious.
    â€œYou’re a senior majoring in physics,” Frank continued.
    â€œYeah. How did you know? Are you a mind reader?” Diana wondered.
    â€œNo,” Frank said, smiling. “I got all that from the college ring on your finger. The symbol for physics on one side, your class year on the other.”
    â€œFrank and Joe’s dad is a private detective back in our hometown of Bayport, New York,” Phil said to Diana.
    â€œAnd you two are following in his footsteps?” Diana finished the thought.
    â€œYou could say that,” Joe replied. “But right now, we’re just here on spring break to visit Phil.”
    â€œThen welcome to Oklahoma,” Diana said, gesturing to the destruction around them and smiling. She turned to Phil. “Let’s get some videotape of the debris pattern starting at the property line and running to the overturned barn.”
    Phil nodded and headed off toward a dented gray off-road vehicle that the Hardys assumed was Wind Three.
    â€œWhat do you mean by debris patterns?” Joe wondered.
    â€œCan you see the track that the tornado took?” Diana asked, pointing and tracing the path the tornado had taken.
    â€œYeah,” Joe replied. “It kind of looks like slightly overlapping letter C ’s.”
    â€œRight. Notice where it deposited ninety-fivepercent of all the junk that it tore up?” Diana asked him.
    Joe hesitated, then realized. “To the left of the tornado’s path!”
    â€œCorrect,” Diana explained. “And that’s how the debris pattern is every time. By studying it—”
    â€œNot every time,” a voice interrupted her. It was Lemar Jansen, who had overheard the conversation while passing by. “Five years ago, in New Mexico, I studied the aftermath of a twister that destroyed an isolated ranch house in the desert. The entire