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

never know what will turn out to be a clue.
    To help me remember what I see, I write things down in a little notebook I have.
    I call it my “cluebook.”
    I wrote a few things down now.
    Thunderstorm this morning
    Library garden
    Dirt
    As a detective, my job depends on being aware of every clue around me. That way, I always know what’s happening.
    I see everything that’s going on.
    And I’m never surprised.
    By anything at all—“
    Boo!” cried a voice behind my ear.

    I nearly jumped out of my skin!
    “Gotcha!” Brian said. “You were so clueless!”
    Clueless.
    That’s the worst thing anyone can say to a private eye. But I was also a Goofball, so it was okay. “I knew it was you,” I said.
    “No way,” said Brian. “I’m the best at creeping up behind people.”
    “You’re creepy, all right,” I said.
    We both laughed.
    Kelly and Mara raced in and slammed their pizza books on Mrs. B.’s desk.
    “I won, I won, I won!” Mara cheered.
    “That’s okay. I wasn’t racing,” said Kelly. “First one to the water fountain wins!”

    But Brian and I were the winners. We cut them off and totally hogged the water fountain.
    Brian even tried to wash his feet in it, but Kelly threatened to wash his head instead, so he stopped.
    “I wish we didn’t have to find cases by accident,” Mara said when we fell into the comfy chairs. “Real detectives get phone calls.”
    “Lots of people phoned about pizza,” said Kelly. “That’s how the Incredible Pizza Disaster got started.”
    “The Totally Incredible Pizza Disaster,” I corrected her. “That’s what I call it in my cluebook.”
    Mara sighed. “I can still smell the crust and all that gooey cheese—”
    “Speaking of gooey,” said a voice, “look, everybody—it’s the goo -balls!”
    We turned to see Joey Myers at the bookshelves. We had been in the same class ever since first grade, when we caught him snitching snacks. Now he was laughing so hard, he dropped his book. I saw the title. All About Horses.
    Next to Joey was his friend Billy Carlson, who wore a faded baseball cap and shook silently when he laughed. “They think they’re pirate eyeballs !” Billy said.

    “The correct word is Goofball s,” said Mara, squinting at the two boys through her glasses. “And we’re not pirate eyeballs , we’re private eyes .”
    But Joey and Billy ignored her and walked away, laughing and shaking.
    “Just look at their ears,” whispered Kelly when the boys had gone. “So guilty.” She twisted her curly blond hair into ringlets. She always does that when she suspects someone or something. “I’ll bet Joey and Billy committed the crime.”
    “Committed what crime?” Brian asked, while he was building a log cabin out of little yellow library pencils. “We don’t even have a case yet.”

    “I’m pretty sure they did it anyway,” said Kelly. “They seem pretty suspicious to me.”
    Suspicious is a good mystery word. It means not trusting something or someone you see.
    And Kelly thinks pretty much everyone is suspicious. But I wouldn’t trade her for anybody. It was Kelly who finally guessed the real reason that pizzas were appearing all over town. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. But how did Kelly figure it out?
    With that suspicious brain of hers.
    Mrs. Bookman returned from the garden.
    “Someday there will be a book about you kids in the mystery section,” she said.
    Mara sighed. “If we ever get a new case.”
    “We will,” I said. “And I’m writing in my cluebook for exactly that purpose.”
    Kelly laughed. “For exactly what porpoise ?”
    “That’ll be a whale of a story,” Mara said.
    “ Water you talking about?” said Brian.
    They all laughed at their silly puns.
    “Goofballs,” Mrs. B. said.
    “With bananas,” I added.
    “Now I’m hungry,” said Mara. “Can we eat? Maybe something with cheese?”
    “Great idea,” said Brian, setting the final pencil on his log cabin. “I’m actually working