Free The Crazy Case of Missing Thunder by Tony Abbott Page A

forever!” the pizza lovers in Badger Point had yelled. Everyone called us heroes. Luigi the pizza maker had put a photo of us on the wall of his restaurant. He even named a pizza after us.
    You guessed it, the Goofball Pizza.
    It has cheese, garlic, pineapple, and peanut butter. It’s always fun to hear someone order us.
    “A Goofball, please. With bananas!”

    As soon as one case ends, we start looking for the next one.
    Like now.
    Whoosh! Whoosh! My feet were pumping hard on the pedals of my mountain bike.
    Brian, Mara, Kelly, and I were going to meet up at the Badger Point Library.
    Our cases usually finish up in the children’s room at the library. That’s because we often check out books to help us solve our mysteries. When the cases are solved, we meet to return our books.
    It was a warm spring day, just before noon. Things were drying out after a big thunderstorm that morning.
    Right.
    Thunder.
    That was the first clue.
    Only I didn’t know it at the time.
    None of us did.

Suspicious Suspicions!
    “G oof! Goof!”
    Sparky, my scruffy corgi puppy, is the official Goofdog. He barked while I biked to the Badger Point Public Library.

    I knew Brian was skateboarding to the library on his homemade skateboard. Brian loves to invent and build crazy stuff. Most of it doesn’t work. Most of it could never work.
    But that just means he’s a perfect Goofball.
    Mara was probably running to the library, which isn’t goofy at all. Running is how she stays so skinny, even though she eats pretty much everything in sight.
    And Kelly? Kelly was most likely power walking.
    She looks kind of nutty with her arms flying all around like an out-of-control windmill. Not to mention dangerous.
    But she is never late anywhere.
    “We’re almost there, pal,” I told Sparky as we rolled into the center of town.
    Badger Point is small, but we have everything we need all mushed together. Across from the library is a movie theater. Next to that is Pizza Palace, where they name food after us. On the corner next to that is a flower shop. And up thestreet from that is the library again.

    Ercch! I screeched to a stop and parked my bike. Sparky lay down next to it. He is good at guarding my stuff.
    I gave him a few pats, then went inside.
    I was early, and none of the Goofballs were there yet, so I went to the children’s desk.
    The librarian’s name was Mrs. Bookman, which I thought was funny because she was neither a book nor a man. Her strawberry blond hair was piled up like a bunch of pink frosting.
    Mmm. Frosting. That made me hungry.
    So did the pizza books I put on Mrs. Bookman’s desk.
    There was Crust or No Crust, That Is the Question. Another was called Hey, Dough! The one I liked best was called Saucy Sausage Sauce . Try saying that five times fast!
    “Mmm. These books make me hungry,” Mrs. B. said.
    “Me, too,” I said. “But we’d better not eat them. We’ll have to charge ourselves a fine.”
    Mrs. Bookman laughed. “Goofball!”
    You could expect to see just about anything in the children’s room. Story Time. Reader’s Theater. Dress-Up-As-Your-Favorite-Character Day. But one thing you wouldn’t expect to see was a big bag of dirt.
    “What’s with the dirt?” I asked.

    I always ask questions. A private eye has to ask lots of questions. It’s how we find out stuff.
    Mrs. B. smiled. “The dirt is for the library’s flower garden,” she said.
    It made sense. Gardens need dirt.
    “You planted sunflowers last year,” I said. “They grew really high. Crows were attracted to them. They were wild and noisy.”
    Mrs. Bookman laughed. “I even told them to mind their manners but they didn’t listen. This year I planted tulips. But the thunderstorm this morning washed away some of the dirt. I’ll be right back.”
    She got up from her desk and carried the bag of dirt through a door to the garden outside.
    I saw thin green stalks with flowers blooming at the top.
    A private eye has to notice everything. You