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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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me. “I knew you could do it.”

“So, little Skylar Robbins found the famous missing jewelry box?” Ronnie teased, dropping his rope on the grass.

“Not yet,” I admitted, “but I think I know where it is. Thanks for coming over.” I’d never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life.

“No problem.” He scratched his head as he looked around our backyard. “So? Why’d you want me to bring my gear?”

“Because I’m pretty sure the box is twelve-and-a-half feet down there,” I said, pointing over the railing. I lowered my voice. “By the way, did you see anyone run out of my neighbor’s yard when you pulled up?”

He looked at me like I’d just guessed his birthday out of thin air. “Yeah. A skinny Hispanic guy. How’d you know?”

Ignado. Crew Gang was watching me. This chilled me for a second but I shook it off, hoping to hear a truck going down the hill like an animal crawling away with its tail between its legs. “Just a hunch. Hurry! We have jewels to find.”

“Nobody told me to bring anything to dig with,” he said, looking at Alexa like it was her fault. He attached a harness around his waist and thighs. Its buckles matched the one in the rusty metal box. “You think it’s just gonna be sitting there on a rock or something?”

“I have no idea,” I admitted. “But if I put the clues together right, it’s five feet eight inches from the end of the railing and twelve-and-a-half feet down, marked by nasturtiums and mustard weeds. This is twelve-and-a-half feet of twine,” I said, showing it to him. Then I tied one end to the railing at the spot I’d scratched with the rock, and flung the other end over the side and down into the canyon. “I think you’re supposed to climb down the hillside, and when you get to the end of the twine you’ll be in the right spot.” I glanced into the neighbor’s yard behind mine. Nothing moved. The street was quiet. Too quiet.

Alexa looked at me like I was a genius, and then turned toward her brother. “See? She knows where it is.”

Ronnie tied his much thicker rope to the railing with a complicated knot, and attached the other end to his harness. Then he put on his helmet and a pair of thick gloves and jerked hard on the railing several times. “I want to be sure this thing can bear my weight,” he explained. “I think we’re good.”

Alexa stood right next to me and we watched her brother throw his legs over the railing and then slowly climb down the hillside, gripping the rope tightly. The muscles in his freckled arms bulged, and his blue helmet looked smaller as he neared the spot where the twine ended. “No wonder you wanted Ronnie to come over, Skylar. You would have killed yourself trying to do this on your own.”

“I know. I learned my lesson when I got stuck in the dumbwaiter.”

“Hey!” Ronnie yelled. We leaned over the railing. He’d braced his feet against the hillside and was looking up at us.

“Did you find it?” I shouted.

“No, but I found something.” Wrapping the rope tightly around his left hand, he thrashed his right hand around, batting thick mustard weeds and skinny nasturtium vines out of his way. “On the side of the hill right here, someone spray-painted a black X on a rock.”

A huge smile spread across my face and I shouted, “Yes!” at the sky.

A minute later I heard the sound of a motorcycle ripping down our hill.

 

31

Xandra Collins’s Jewels

I barely made it through school on Friday, I was so nervous about what would happen at my house afterward. Not to mention that Ignado might have seen Robbie find the X on the hillside. If he did, then Crew Gang knew where Xandra’s jewels were hidden too. And that meant they were planning something.

Alexa’s mom dropped us off and we ran inside to get ready. “Your house looks great,” Alexa said, following me through the entryway.

I looked around. Smack and his boys were nowhere in sight. “Thanks. Those creeps actually did a good job. Hopefully they won’t show up any time soon.”

Just then my mom rushed up to us. “Skylar,” she said, “the news crew will be here any minute. Hurry up and change.”

My dad had put gel in his hair and wore one of his best suits for the cameras. “The crane’s already here, but I’m not sure about the rock-climber,” he said, heading for the backyard.

I hated the formal dress my mom insisted I wear, and I begged her to let me choose another outfit. “But Mom, I solved the whole case and figured out where Xandra’s jewelry box is buried. Shouldn’t I be allowed to wear whatever I want on TV?” Suddenly this was just as important as whatever Smack and Ignado were up to.

“You’re going to be interviewed, Skylar. Don’t you want to look professional on the news? Everyone will be watching.” I thought about this. “It’s your first opportunity to introduce your detective agency. You don’t want to look too casual.”

She got me with that one. “You’re right.” As I ran upstairs to change I heard the doorbell ring. I put on the dress and brushed my hair, and by the time I flew back down the stairs the living room had started to fill up with people. Alexa sat on our couch with her hands folded in her lap, watching the camera crew set up with an excited smile on her face. I hurried across the room and sat right next to her. “I’m so nervous,” I admitted. And it wasn’t just because of the interview.

“Don’t worry, Sky, you look beautiful and you’ll kick butt. Like you always do,” she said confidently. “Thanks for inviting me to come watch.”

I turned to face her. “You sure you don’t want to get up there with me?” I asked for the third time. “You were the one who figured out where the map started,” I reminded her. “I wouldn’t have found out where the jewelry box was buried without your help. And Ronnie’s.”

“No way.” Alexa shrunk back into the couch. “I’m not making a fool of myself in front of any cameras.” Then she paused, and a new expression bloomed on her face. “Actually,” she said thoughtfully, “if there’s something short you want me to read off a cue card I could probably handle it.” She looked at me and opened her fingers, showing me the squishy ball in her left hand.

“I have no idea what they’re going to ask me either. But if they call you up there I know you’ll do great.” We locked pinkies, and held on for a minute before we pulled them apart.

Another caravan of cars drove up our hill, fighting for spots along the side of our driveway. A blonde newswoman strolled into the room, picking out my mom and me. She walked up to us with her hand thrust forward and a big fake smile on her face. “I’m Trina Bradshaw from AFX,” she announced. Trina had so much makeup on that she looked like a clown. “And you must be the little girl who solved the mystery.”

I stared at her and didn’t smile back. Since I was the one who had figured out where Xandra buried her jewels after adults had failed for three years, I didn’t appreciate being called a little girl. Not to mention outsmarting a gang of construction workers who had monster tools and access to our entire house. Who were probably watching us at this very minute.

“I’m Skylar Robbins,” I said, shaking her hand. “Of the Skylar Robbins Detective Agency.”

“Oh aren’t you cute?” she said, squeezing out another fake smile.

That did it. “I’m not a cute little girl. I’m a detective,” I corrected her.

“Skylar,” my mom warned. “Manners.”

“That’s perfectly OK.” My dad stuck up for me. “She’s right. Let them get it correct on the news.” He nodded at me, and then walked back outside to supervise the television crew.

“Let’s go see what’s going on in the backyard,” Alexa suggested.

“Good idea.” I lowered my voice. “I have to talk to you.”

We hurried outside and I filled her in as I walked. “I think Smack’s guys know I’m about to find the jewels. I spotted binoculars through the bushes when Robbie found the X. One of them was spying on me from the neighbor’s yard.”

“Seriously?” Alexa clamped her hand over her mouth and then took it away and stared right at me. “What do you want me to do?”

“Keep your eye on the street,” I said, looking around. “And if you see any of the guys from the crew approach the house or if I give you the signal, call 9-1-1 and tell them there’s an attempted robbery in progress. If Smack’s guys don’t try to take the jewels I’ll tell the cops it was a false alarm.”

“What’s the signal?”

“9-1-1 in sign language.” I touched my index finger to my thumb for 9, then held up my first finger twice with my palm facing forward.

“Got it.”

We walked farther into the yard and heard the crane driver, Bob Blare, arguing with my dad. He called the box at the top of the crane the “cherry picker.” This was where a cameraman would sit and film the guy who dug into the mountainside. Bob wanted to get the cherry picker as close to the edge of the railing as possible, and my dad was afraid the crane would ruin our lawn. He was probably right, but once we had dug up Xandra Collins’s jewels I didn’t think losing a few blades of grass would really matter. I wished I were up in the cherry picker right now. I could see into our neighbor’s yard and figure out if Sledge, Dusty, or Ignado were spying on us, waiting for me to find the jewelry box so they could rip it out of my hands.

Leaning to my right, I peeked through the side yard and tried to see past our house and out toward the street. Nothing suspicious seemed to be going on. Yet.

A balding guy with a big forehead rode over to the guardrail on a little tractor. He wore headphones and held a long pole with a microphone on the end of it, so I guessed he was the soundman. The mic was padded and he called the whole thing “the boom.” My dad winced as his tractor left tracks in our new grass.

Two cute guys holding big white discs walked over to the metal railing next. The taller one had big eyes that were dark blue like mine. “You the girl who figured out the mystery?” He ran his hand casually through his slippery blond hair, and it fell back across his forehead.

“Yeah,” I said, looking across the canyon. Then I smiled back at him. “I’m Skylar Robbins.”

“I’m Mac. This is Johnny.” Mac had nice teeth. Johnny shook my hand, and then held up his disc, tilting it at slightly different angles.

“What are those?” I asked.

“Photoflex Litediscs. To reflect the light onto you so we can get a good picture. Johnny, tilt yours back more. Stop right now. The light’s perfect.” Mac smiled at me. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to blush. Mac was almost as cute as Dustin. But not quite.

The cameraman who was ready to film my interview was named Gordon. He was a thin Latino with twinkling brown eyes and a dimple. Trina Bradshaw rushed around frantically with Gordon at her side while the director bellowed orders at Tom and the guys with the Litediscs. Everyone wore headsets or wireless earpieces. Cell phones rang constantly and walkie-talkies chirped. I had never been so excited. I couldn’t believe all of this was because of me!

My parents walked over to me and my dad squeezed my shoulder. He smiled, crinkling his eyes, and then looked at me tenderly. “I am so proud of you.”

“And so am I,” my mom said, smiling warmly at me.

“Thanks, Mom.” I held out my arms for a hug. “I’m glad you suggested this dress,” I whispered as she hugged me back.

“You figured out Xandra Collins’s clues and used your brain to piece together a complicated puzzle. At the same time, you stood up to the bullies at your school, and never compromised your standards. You’re the best daughter a parent could ask for.”

“And you’re a heck of a good detective,” my dad added.

“That’s for sure,” my mom agreed, making me smile.

For a minute. I hoped

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