A Recipe for Robbery Read Online Free Page A

ever,” Margaret said, still looking dazed by his news. “I just found out about it last week. I really want to join, but my mom won’t let me. She says I’m on the computer too much.”
    A tingly, nervous feeling fluttered around my stomach. Gus beat out thirty thousand participants in a crime-solving contest? Gosh, if that was the case, maybe he could find the heirloom thief—with Margaret’s and my help, of course. It’s not like the two of us were dumb bunnies. Besides, I didn’t want Gus getting any big ideas about keeping more than his share of the reward money.
    He folded his arms behind his head. “So. You guys want to go along with me or not?”
    â€œI will if Lindy will,” Margaret said.
    I looked at the locket again, my heart thumping, and pictured the front page of the BloomsberrySentinel : L OCAL Y OUNGSTERS N AB H EIRLOOM T HIEF ; D IVVY H EFTY R EWARD ! Or even better: T ALENTED Y OUNG H EROINE ON H ER W AY TO T ALLAHASSEE ; H OPES TO W OW G OVERNOR WITH F LUTE S OLO .
    After overhearing my parents last night, I knew in my gut that winning the reward might be my only chance at band camp. I couldn’t stand the thought of not going. The camp lasted two whole weeks, and practically everyone would be there, including Angel Grimstone. In fact, Angel hadn’t stopped talking about camp ever since our teacher announced it. “I’m going to learn sixteenth notes and trills,” she’d bragged. “I’m getting a new flute before I go, too. Grammy says I’ll win first chair for sure next year.”
    Oooh—my blood boiled at the thought of it. I’d rather be appointed Granny Goose’s recipe-tasting assistant than lose first chair to Angel Grimstone. And what if she got chosen for the governor’s concert while I was home scrubbing toilets?
    â€œPsst, Lindy.” Margaret rapped the table.“Are you going to help find the thief or not?”
    I’d just opened my mouth to say, “You bet,” when a giant stalk of broccoli approached us.
    Uh-oh . It was Officer Moore. I grabbed the locket and held it to my side, flicking its tiny clasp. If he saw it, everything would be ruined. He circled our table—real slow—all the way around, stopping next to me. He leaned down to fiddle with the cuff of his costume.
    He nodded at me and smiled. I smiled back, trying to look nonchalant, as if it were just another average day in my boring life. He got up, tipped his flowered green hat at us, and left.
    I sank back in my chair, still flicking the locket’s clasp. It opened. I glanced down, and staring back up at me was the Princess Grimstone. Right there in the palm of my hand, smiling like a hyena and holding a flute to her mouth.
    â€œAaack!” I tossed the locket on the table.
    Margaret picked it up, then clutched her neck and squealed, “Eew! It’s Angel.”
    â€œLet me see,” Gus said.
    But right as Margaret started to hand it to him, one side of her face scrunched up like she had a gnat in her eye. She made some kind of weird hissing noise and winked at me about ten times. “Hide it!” she said, flinging the locket back across the table.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” My heart started racing again. Was someone watching us?
    The only person I saw nearby was a farmer-looking guy in overalls and a straw hat, the same guy Granny Goose had nearly run into earlier, right before she’d dished out her cucumbers to me. He trudged by our table slower than a snail, but he was staring at the newspaper in his hand and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to us.
    Something shuffled in the grass behind me, like footsteps.
    â€œHurry up ,” Margaret whispered.
    Next I heard giggles. Princess giggles.
    â€œOh, Lindeeee. Are you two going steady yet?”
    More giggles. The Princess had her friends with her.
    â€œLindy and Gus, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
    â€œOh,