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Reading books MYSTERY & CRIMEHowever, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others.
An astonishing number of readers read mystery and crime.
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Naturally, you can’t create a perfect story of mystery and crime . The author must inevitably sacrifice something of his own, but he must have some higher value that would fundamentally distinguish him from other authors. The works of Hammett, Chandler, McDonald, Cain, Stout, containing such peculiar "Emeralds", from generation to generation remain interesting for millions of fans, young and old.


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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » Skylar Robbins: The Mystery of the Hidden Jewels by Carrie Cross (good books for 7th graders .txt) 📖

Book online «Skylar Robbins: The Mystery of the Hidden Jewels by Carrie Cross (good books for 7th graders .txt) 📖». Author Carrie Cross



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work up our courage again they’ll be going with someone else.”

“You’re right.” The warning bell rang and we wadded up our trash. “Let’s go.”

There were three minutes left until the final bell rang and I had to be in Science. Dustin was nowhere to be seen. If he’d cut class to go to the mall with Emelyn to get a stolen game I wouldn’t want to go to the dance with him anyway. Slipping through the doorway into the lab, I looked sideways down the hall. I scanned the faces of the last students who were hurrying to class, but I didn’t see Emelyn or Dustin. I hurried across the room and took my seat at the last second. Would Dustin come to class? Or did he ditch with Emelyn?

Just as the bell rang Dustin rushed through the door, raced across the white tile floor and dove into the seat next to me. Mr. Bidden frowned at him and started his lecture. While I took notes I stole little glances at the pockets in Dustin’s shirt and jeans. I didn’t notice any suspicious, video-game-shaped bulges, and he wasn’t carrying a backpack. I tried to work up the nerve to write him another note about the dance, but I couldn’t figure out what to say. I also felt like I was begging him to go with me, and that really bugged me. So by the end of the class, I hadn’t done anything about the dance at all. I was really mad at myself for chickening out, too. But right when we stood up to leave, Dustin reached out and touched my arm. A tingle shot through my whole body.

“Hey,” he said. I thought he looked a little nervous. And also very cute. “About the dance?”

My stomach plummeted. He’s going to tell me he’s going to go with Emelyn.

“Did you still want to go?” He looked at me with those big hazel eyes and my heart stopped.

“Um, yeah,” I said stupidly, “if you do.” I shifted my books into my other arm and we walked toward the door.

“Sure. See you later.” Dustin smiled and headed away from me toward his next class.

Stepping out into the crowded hall, I was relieved that Emelyn and her friends were nowhere in sight. I leaned against the wall, pulled out my cell, and texted Alexa.

Dustin sd yes!

After last period I stood by our locker and absolutely could not wait for Alexa to get there so we could talk about Dustin. When she rounded the corner and headed toward me I bounced up and down and motioned for her to hurry.

Alexa rushed up to me. “What happened?”

“He asked me if I still wanted to go to the dance with him.”

“What’d you say?”

“I was like,” I made a silly face and crossed my eyes, “um, if you do.” She laughed. “I’m such a dork.” My stomach did an excited little lurch as I thought about it. Then I faced Alexa and smiled like I’d just won the lottery. “Dustin is going to the dance with me!”

Alexa tossed her books into our locker. “I knew he would. I’m definitely asking Brendan tomorrow in English.” She’d been putting it off too and crossed her fingers, looking at me hopefully.

“He’s Dustin’s BF. I’m sure he’ll go with you.” We started walking toward the bus stop. Dustin’s brother skidded to a stop in a black Porsche, forcing a mom in a minivan to stomp on her brakes right in front of us. Dustin jogged down the sidewalk and hopped into his brother’s car. I watched his tan fingers as they reached through the open window and closed the door.

Alexa elbowed me when she caught me staring, and I turned to face her. “So if Emelyn asked him to ditch class with her he must have turned her down. I don’t know if she asked him to the dance yet….” My forehead wrinkled as I thought about it.

“But she isn’t going to be very happy when he tells her he’s going with you.” Alexa laughed.

I thought about it for a minute, and didn’t think it was funny. I knew there was going to be trouble.

 

22

Treasure Map

Alexa came over after school and I started my math homework while she tried to study for a history test. She kept fidgeting and changing positions on my bedroom floor, finally ending up cross-legged with the book propped open across her knees. Being dyslexic turns reading into a confusing nightmare. Alexa uses her index fingers to help her read. She puts her left finger under the word she’s trying to sound out and covers up the rest of the sentence with her right, inching her fingers across the sentence a little at a time. The letters look jumbled and backward to her, and some of them seem interchangeable: p looks like b, and q, and d. I didn’t understand how that was possible until she grabbed my sketchpad one day.

Alexa drew a quick cartoon of a pig’s face and showed it to me. “What’s this?”

“A pig.”

She rotated the drawing onto its side. “Now what is it?”

“A pig,” I repeated.

Alexa turned the sketchpad upside down. “How ‘bout now?” I still didn’t get it.

“Still a pig.”

Alexa looked at me and nodded. “See? It still looks like a pig to you from every angle. Just like b and p both look like d to me, just backwards or upside down,” Alexa said, resting her chin in her hand and looking at the pig. “A d, b, p, or q is just a stick with a loop on one end of it no matter what direction the stick points.”

I looked at my BFF and felt so bad for her. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be,” was all I could think of to say.

I’d been waiting for the right moment to tell her I’d found something new that might help, and this was it. “Lex?” She looked up from the book with a grumpy expression on her face. “I’ve been reading about dyslexia online, and I think I have something new you could try.”

“Anything.” She closed the book, using her finger as a bookmark. “What?”

“A squishy ball, a clear blue plastic sheet, sunglasses, and vanilla-lavender incense.”

“Huh?” Alexa wrinkled her nose, and then smiled when she realized I wasn’t kidding.

“All those other ‘cures’ we’ve read about, the treatments that professors and doctors have come up with that haven’t worked?” Alexa nodded. “Well I looked harder and I found an article that was written by an actual dyslexic.” I smiled while I pulled things out of my bedside stand. “I know it sounds crazy, but try this.” I handed her the squishy ball. “Put this in your left hand and knead it while you read. It’s supposed to help you focus by keeping the other half of your brain occupied.”

“I think I need both halves of my brain, at least,” Alexa joked, “but I’ll try anything. What are the sunglasses and the blue sheet for?”

“They’re supposed to cut the light down to one color. Do you ever see colors when you’re reading black writing on a white page?”

“Yes.” Alexa looked shocked, like I’d just read her mind. “I thought I was crazy, but I do.”

“This article knows what it’s talking about.”

Alexa put the sunglasses on, covered her book with the blue plastic, and laughed. “I can’t even see the letters now,” she giggled. “Great cure for dyslexia.”

“OK, Smartypants, take off the sunglasses.” I lit the incense.

“Mmm. That smells good,” Alexa said. “But why the incense?”

“When you get tested on the chapter, try to imagine the scent and it’s supposed to help you remember what you read.”

“OK,” Alexa said, bending over her book and reading through the blue sheet while kneading the squishy ball with her left hand. I watched her for a minute and realized I’d been holding my breath. She wasn’t squirming around anymore. I also realized Alexa wasn’t reading out loud.

“Skylar, I think it’s working. I don’t know if I’ll remember all this tomorrow, but I feel like I understand what I’m reading!” She crawled over to me and gave me a huge hug. “You’re the best friend in the whole world.”

“As soon as we finish English you can help me right back.”

“You got it.” Then her head whipped toward the doorway. Loud footsteps were clomping up the stairs. “Who’s coming?” Alexa’s face paled.

“Probably one of the guys in Crew—” Hard banging on my door interrupted me. My heart started to pound. Before I had a chance to stand up, the door flew open and Smack walked in with his legs wide apart and a smirk on his face.

“Sorry to innerupt,” he said, casing my room. “But there’s a short in the wiring somewhere and we gotta find it.” He marched over to my closet and yanked the door open. “Mind if I look around?” he asked, already looking around.

“Help yourself.” Alexa and I eyeballed each other.

I held up my index finger signing, 1, and fingerspelled, S-E-C. Then I bolted up the spiral staircase to my office, knowing Smack would demand to search it next.

A minute later the railing creaked as his heavy feet pounded up the stairs. I stood in the doorway to my office with my arms folded across my chest. “Find anything?” I asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Not yet,” he snapped, glaring at me.

“Well look around,” I said, gesturing around my little office while I backed up against the cupboard with the false ceiling. There was no way this guy would have an ultraviolet flashlight. Smack couldn’t possibly imagine there might be a message written on the wall in invisible ink. But still. “Be my guest,” I said nicely.

Smack nosed around my office, pretending to look for faulty wiring. He plugged a small device into the two electrical outlets and waited for the readings to register, nodding his head each time. “You’re good,” he grumbled before marching back down the stairs. He didn’t know how good I was. I was so far ahead of those guys it wasn’t even funny.

When I walked back into my bedroom Alexa and I stared at each other. “He gives me the creeps,” she whispered.

ME TOO, I signed, making a Y with my hand and moving it back and forth between us. “Smack and his crew are always snooping around when they should be working,” I whispered.

“Did you tell your parents?”

“No way. You know my mom panics when she thinks about me doing anything dangerous. And I have a feeling taking on these guys might qualify as dangerous.”

“You think?” Alexa looked worried.

“Relax. I won’t get into trouble. We’re going to follow the clues and figure out where the jewels are hidden before they do. You with me?” Alexa hesitated before she slowly nodded.

She was right to be afraid.

We started our English homework and I read the chapter on verbs out loud while Alexa stared at me, listening carefully like she always did when we studied together. She kneaded the squishy ball, and when we got to the quiz at the end, she got almost every answer right. Now if she could just remember everything she’d learned when we got to class in the morning. “I can’t study anymore,” Alexa announced after an hour. “My brain’s stuffed.”

“That’s OK, we’re done with English and I can finish my essay later. Want to see the map now?”

My heart started to race and Alexa’s cheeks turned pink. “Yes.”

“Follow me.” I led the way up the spiral staircase and we walked into my office. Pulling the metal box out of my desk, I unlocked it and took out the taped-together bird’s nest clue.

“Wow,” Alexa breathed, looking at the map. “Those are the papers you found in the gazebo?”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded, holding them carefully. “They’re really fragile. Let’s go downstairs and make a better copy.” We ran down the two flights of stairs and went into my dad’s gadget room.

“This looks just like a real laboratory,” Alexa said, staring at one side of what used to be the ballroom. A long counter ran down that wall, covered with beakers and test tubes and burners and microscopes.

“That’s because it is a real laboratory.”

Alexa looked at me and made a face.

On the opposite side of the room, my dad’s electric train set covered a big wooden table. When I flipped the switch, the train zipped through tunnels, in between potted plants, behind the aquarium, and past a clay

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