Free Big Game by Stuart Gibbs

that led into the house from the Asian Plains was wide open. I could see Chief Hoenekker inside, on Rhonda’s side of the metal fence, taking measurements around the point where the bullet had impacted the wall.
    The guard posted at the door of the rhino house didn’t seem surprised to see Summer and me. He held up his hand, signaling us to wait, then called out, “Chief! They’re here!”
    Hoenekker looked up and sighed heavily. Then he pointedly went back to his measurements without saying anything to us.
    â€œHey!” Summer yelled to him. “My dad sent us to see you.”
    â€œI know.” Hoenekker jotted something on a small notepad, then climbed out of the rhino pen and came to the doorway. “I understand you have a letter for me?”
    I handed him the envelope J.J. had given me. Hoenekker tore it open, read the message inside, then crumpled it angrily and threw it on the ground. “Apparently it’s official,” he growled. “In addition to conducting an investigation, I now have to babysit both of you.”
    He was so disdainful that, if I’d been there by myself, I might have given up the investigation. But Summer stood up to him. “Daddy wouldn’t have sent us here if he didn’t think we could help.”
    â€œYeah, your daddy’s very proud of his little girl.” Hoenekker waved us into the rhino house, then pointed at a corner. “Stay over there and try not to mess anything up.”
    Summer reacted, offended. She wasn’t used to people treating her like this. “What could we possibly mess up? There’s nothing in here but cement and rhino poo.”
    â€œThis is a crime scene,” Hoenekker told her. “Anything in here could be evidence.”
    I dutifully moved to the corner he had indicated, trying my best not to antagonize him. However, Summer had a point. Save for a few chalk marks that had been made around the spot where the bullet had hit the wall, the rhino house seemed exactly the same as it had that morning. It didn’t look very much like a crime scene. “Have you learned anything yet?” I asked.
    Even though I’d asked as nicely as I could, Hoenekker still seemed annoyed by the question. “What do you think we’ve been doing here all day? Playing tiddlywinks?”
    â€œY’know,” Summer said, “this would work out much better if you’d answer our questions instead of being such a jerk.”
    Hoenekker glared at her. I got the sense that if anyone else had spoken to him that way, he would have tossed them out the door—or at least chewed them out—but since Summer was the boss’s daughter, she could get away with more than most people. So the chief swallowed his pride and reported what he’d found. “We dug the bullet out of the wall. It had flattened on impact, but we were still able to determine the caliber. It was from a .375 Holland & Holland Magnum, which is relatively rare in this country. It’s a big gun, for big animals with tough hides. Use something like that on a white-tailed deer and you won’t have anything left but the hooves. But it’s very popular with big-game hunters in Africa.”
    â€œDoes that mean it’s hard to get here?” I asked.
    â€œIn Texas?” Hoenekker laughed. “You can pretty much get any hunting rifle you want here. I checked around. There’s quite a few stores in the area that carry them.”
    â€œEven though they’re too powerful for deer?” I asked.
    â€œOh, there’s plenty to kill here that’s not local,” Hoenekker told me. “There’s hunting ranches throughout Texas stocked with exotic animals. They’ve got all kinds of big game: kudu, eland, water buffalo.”
    I was completely startled by this. “You mean, people are raising all those animals around here just for people to hunt?”
    â€œOh yeah,” Summer said sadly.