Tiger Threat Read Online Free

the table and gently placed the capsule in the crown. It fit perfectly in the small dent inside. “Strange.”
    â€œThe capsule fits inside the tooth?” she asked.
    I nodded. I left the crown upside down and placed the other half of the tooth into it. “And the tooth fits the crown. With the capsule hidden inside.”
    â€œDo you think Vlad knew it was hidden inside?” she asked.
    I thought about that before answering. Then I shook my head.

    â€œNo,” I said. “He didn’t ask me about the tooth. And this capsule is probably too valuable for him to forget if he did know about it.”
    â€œWhy would you say that?” she asked.
    â€œSomeone went to a lot of work to hide the capsule,” I said. “You don’t hide things unless they are valuable.”
    â€œThat makes sense,” she said. “Want to try to open the capsule?”
    â€œI do,” I said. I paused, thinking a lot of other things.
    â€œWhat is it?” she asked.
    â€œIt belongs to Vlad,” I finally said. “It wouldn’t be right to open it. Right?”
    â€œRight,” she said.
    I didn’t tell her what I was really thinking. I was wondering if this hidden capsule had anything at all to do with the fire in the arena. Or with Pookie being hung from the ceiling.
    Like some kind of warning.

chapter six
    â€œRay Hockaday! What brings you here? Looking for a wedding ring?”
    I had stopped after leaving the library. Downtown wasn’t too far from school.
    â€œVery funny, Mr. Jewel,” I said.
    Mr. Jewel wasn’t his real name, but that’s what everyone called him. He owned a small jewelry store downtown on Third Street. The shops were quaint. The sidewalks were brick. There were gas lamps and, in the summer,hanging flower baskets. It was like stepping back in time.
    Same thing inside Mr. Jewel’s jewelry store. He was in his fifties. He was tall with long flowing gray hair. He had a gray handlebar mustache that he waxed so that it stuck out beneath his nose like horns on a steer. He wore a pinstripe suit, with a vest and bow tie. He looked like a saloon-keeper in a western movie. And he was one of the Tigers’ biggest fans. I knew him because I’d bought a couple of watches from him for Christmas presents one year.
    â€œIsn’t that something, about the coaching change?” Mr. Jewel said. “What do you think so far?”
    His eyes showed his excitement. Mr. Jewel loved to talk hockey.
    â€œCoach Thomas knows his stuff,” I said. That was true. Coach Thomas knew exactly what I feared on the ice.
    â€œYou like him?” Mr. Jewel asked.
    I nodded. Yeah, I liked him. About as much as I liked the thought of putting a needle in my eyeball. But this wasn’t something a playersaid. It always got back to a coach. Besides, if I told Mr. Jewel I didn’t like Coach Thomas, then I’d have to explain
why
I didn’t like Coach Thomas. And Ray Hockaday, son of the famous “Bear” Hockaday, was not supposed to be afraid of anything.
    â€œSo, seriously,” Mr. Jewel said. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Anything wrong with the watches you bought?”
    â€œNothing,” I said.
    â€œAnd no wedding ring?”
    â€œI’m only seventeen,” I said.
    â€œBig, strong hockey player like you,” he said. “I’ll bet there must be a hundred girls hoping you’ll ask them for a date.”
    If only one of them was Amanda. But that was another thought I kept to myself.
    â€œOnce I came in here,” I said, “and you were repairing a small watch.”
    â€œPart of my services,” Mr. Jewel said. “But you said you weren’t having problems with the watches.”
    â€œI remember your workbench in the back,” I said. “The big magnifying glass. The tiny tools you used.”
    â€œStill there,” he said. He grinned. “Thinking of learning a new