A Recipe for Robbery Read Online Free

her. “I’m just happy to help these little critters out.”
    Mom said that after her husband died, GrannyGoose had carried on his business of animal rescue—he’d been a veterinarian—except she refused to charge people.
    I scratched my head, totally puzzled. “This doesn’t make any sense. How could the locket have wound up in her cucumbers?”
    â€œThe evidence points to her being the perpetrator,” Gus said, “but I’ll give it ninety-nine to one she’s being framed.” He reached across the table and helped himself to a huge swig of my pink lemonade.
    I scowled at him, snatching my glass before he could finish off the ice.
    As I wiped the last bit of cucumber off the locket, I thought about what we should do. My parents would say to turn it in, even if it meant we didn’t get any reward. But then there was Granny Goose to think about. Suppose she got put in jail for something she didn’t do? As much as I hated to admit it, Gus was right. The evidence pointed to her.
    â€œWhat if I just said I found the locket on theground?” I suggested. “Then the cops wouldn’t suspect Granny Goose.”
    â€œWell, sure, that could probably work,” Gus said. “But I know how we can keep her out of jail and earn the whole five thousand dollars—no sweat.” He plopped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands, staring at me. “Wanna know how?”
    I ignored the W ARNING : T ROUBLE A HEAD sign flashing in the back of my mind. Instead, all I could think about was the money: 1,666 crisp one-dollar bills, stacked on my dresser. It would be all mine, and it would more than pay for band camp. My heart did a little swing dance as I pictured myself at the governor’s mansion with a brand-new flute and a wad of cash in my backpack.
    I sat straight up and looked Gus Kinnard in the eye. Because for once in his life, he might say something I actually wanted to hear.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “How?”

Chapter 5
Gus Kinnard Is NOT My Boyfriend
    â€œI t’s simple,” Gus said. He wiped a glop of mashed potato from his chin, missing half of it. “All we have to do is find the real perp before the cops do.”
    Perp? As in perpetrator of a million-dollar heist?
    Did Gus actually believe the three of us could hunt down a mastermind criminal all by ourselves? His idea was way crazy. Too crazy—I knew that. But I wanted that reward money, and I couldn’t stop the boing, boing, boing of my heartbeat.
    Margaret gasped. “You really think we can prove Granny Goose didn’t steal the locket?”
    â€œHow?” I whispered, as if the deal were sealedand we were all of a sudden conspirators. “We’re not exactly detectives, you know. It would take forever.”
    â€œNuh-uh,” Gus said. “There can’t be that many suspects. The newspaper said it looked like an inside job—maybe even someone who knows the Grimstones. Bloomsberry’s a small town.”
    He tossed a cherry in the air and caught it in his mouth. “Granny Goose is innocent, and we can prove it. I’m really good at solving crimes. Actually, I just won an award for it.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” I said, eyeing him suspiciously. “Like what award?”
    â€œThe NSCCB mystery of the month. I beat out more than thirty thousand participants.”
    â€œOh…my…gosh.” Margaret fell against the back of the chair, her eyes lit up like disco balls. “You won that? I can’t believe it. What month?”
    â€œMay. So now there’s a eight percent chance I’ll win NSCCBer of the year.”
    I glanced from Gus to Margaret, then back atGus. It felt like I’d popped in on a meeting between a couple of cryptologists. “What the heck is NSPPB?”
    â€œN-S-C-C-B,” Gus said. “The Not-So-Clueless Crime Busters.”
    â€œIt’s the coolest online club