Free Spotted Dog Last Seen by Jessica Scott Kerrin

snapped.
    She had no sense of humor whatsoever, despite the bunnies jacket.
    â€œThen what’s our next move?” I asked, still not convinced that tracking down a complete stranger and rummaging through his locker filled with secrets — if that’s what the codes in the mystery books meant us to do — was even remotely a good idea.
    Merrilee scanned the cemetery, as if looking for an answer among the silent gravestones.
    â€œWe already know he’s not buried here,” Pascal said.
    â€œI know that,” Merrilee replied, fixing her gaze in the direction of the new section of the cemetery.
    I looked at Pascal and he looked at me. Is this when Merrilee would finally transform into a zombie or something?
    But no. Merrilee stayed Merrilee.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Pascal pressed, eyeing her suspiciously and taking a step closer to me.
    â€œNothing,” Merrilee said, still staring at the new section with the precisely lined-up granite markers. “Just a feeling.” Her voice trailed off.
    Again, Pascal looked at me and I looked at Pascal. Then I gave him a quick nod, urging him to go ahead and ask.
    â€œOkay, Merrilee. What’s with all the spooky talk?” he demanded, taking my cue.
    I faced her, too, glad that one of us had finally spoken up.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” she asked.
    â€œSpooky talk,” Pascal repeated. He held his hands up and waved them in the air like a hovering ghost.
    â€œAnd you actually like being in a cemetery,” I added.
    â€œYou two find me spooky?” she asked, pushing her glasses up on her nose.
    Awkward silence.
    â€œDo you?”
    â€œKind of,” we each muttered, me scuffing at the lumpy ground.
    â€œWell good. That’s what I was going for,” she said brightly.
    Merrilee set her knapsack down and calmly unzipped it.
    I held my breath, expecting a colony of vampire bats to fly out, but no. She took out a library book instead and sat down with her back against the iron gate, dismissing both of us.
    But I wasn’t about to be dismissed so easily. Not again.
    â€œWhat are you reading now?” I asked.
    â€œAnother mystery book.”
    â€œI thought we’d solved the last mystery book code,” I said, interrupting her some more.
    â€œWe did. But I’ve discovered that I like mystery novels, with or without a code.”
    She paused.
    â€œDoes that also make me spooky?”
    â€œNo,” I admitted, realizing that I wouldn’t mind reading another mystery, just for the challenge of solving it. “Hey. Maybe I should make you a t-shirt that says, If reading’s no fun, you’re doing it wrong .
    â€œGood one,” she said flatly.
    She opened to where she had inserted her bookmark — the playing card with the Queen of Spades wearing a hand-drawn pair of glasses.
    â€œWhere’d you get the card?” Pascal said, joining me in my game to keep her from her book.
    â€œI found it in a paperback I bought at a used book store. It’s one of my favorite discoveries. I’ve been using it ever since.” She didn’t look up from her book as she spoke, but her attempts to ignore us were futile.
    â€œDid you draw on the glasses?” I asked pleasantly.
    â€œNo,” she said, pushing up her own pair on her nose. “Someone else did. That’s why I like it so much. It speaks to me.”
    Pascal mouthed the word spooky to me while she turned a page.
    â€œAren’t you worried that you’ll forget to take it out when you return the book to the library?” I asked.
    â€œI might. But I know exactly where it would end up,” she said, refusing to take her eyes off her book.
    â€œAre you telling us that you can see into the future?” Pascal asked, elbowing me.
    â€œSadly, no.”
    â€œBut you just said ...”
    Merrilee cut Pascal off with a heavy sigh. She gave each of us a withering look.
    â€œIt would end up on