Serina K. and the Case of the Missing Recipe Read online

  Chapter Seven: Traffic Jam

  I woke up the next morning rejuvenated. Even though things didn’t go as planned the day before, a brainstorm had struck me in the middle of the night. It was my turn to act as the morning crossing guard this week. This would be an excellent opportunity to question possible suspects about the time capsule break-in.

  For my plan to succeed, I would need my assistant. After getting dressed, I called Sara and told her to meet me at the school entrance in fifteen minutes. We would have to get there early before students started arriving to ensure the flow of traffic was safe. I ate a small bowl of cereal and hurried out the front door to meet Sara. Dad would probably fuss because I didn’t put my dirty dishes up, but I had more important things to worry about. I could clean up later. Right now, I had a mystery to solve.

  Sara met me at the school entrance. Luckily, we got there before anyone else started arriving. This gave us time to put on our safety vests and gloves. Mr. Willis, the school principal, brought a pad of citations and a whistle for each of us.

  “Use the whistle if you see someone that needs to slow down or stop. The tickets are for serious violations only. The school board will review each citation that you issue and determine the appropriate punishment for the offender. Do not issue a ticket unless it is absolutely necessary,” Mr. Willis instructed. “I’m counting on the two of you to take this job seriously and make sure everyone gets to school safe this morning,” he added.

  “You can count on us,” Sara promised.

  It wasn’t long before cars started arriving. We were supposed to keep traffic flowing and direct oncoming vehicles into the school lot. That would have made it impossible to question anyone, so we decided to create a roadblock instead. We would simply stop each car and ask them if they had an alibi Friday night after midnight.

  “Where were you Saturday after midnight?” I asked Billy Cannon’s mom.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Someone broke into the time capsule around that time. I’m leading the investigation,” I explained.

  “In that case, good luck. I’m afraid I won’t be much help. I went to bed around 10:00 and didn’t get up until Sunday morning to cook breakfast before going to church.”

  “Are you entered in the Doodle Soup contest this year?” I asked.

  “No, Doodle Soup isn’t a specialty of mine. It won’t be on the menu at our house until Mrs. Doyle’s becomes available at the supermarket.”

  “Move along,” I directed.

  We took turns questioning the inhabitants of each vehicle before allowing it to pass. This allowed us to record notes of each conversation. After about ten minutes, however, traffic began to back up for what looked like a couple of miles. Angry parents blared their horns and shook their fists at us.

  “Here comes a policeman,” said Sara. “Maybe he wants to help.”

  “What’s going on here?” he asked when he approached.

  “We’re investigating a crime,” Sara answered.

  “What kind of crime? He asked.

  “The case of the missing Doodle Soup recipe,” she replied.

  Stunned, the policeman replied, “Traffic’s backed up for nearly four blocks. The least of your worries is going to be the missing Doodle Soup recipe if you don’t get this traffic moving.”

  “No problem, sir,” I said.

  The last thing I needed was any trouble with the police. I began motioning for traffic to move along into the school entrance. Satisfied that traffic was beginning to move, he began walking back to his squad car. I was relieved when he left and felt lucky that he didn’t give me a subpoena.

  We began waving the rest of the traffic through without stopping to interrogate anyone. The interrogations had caused a significant delay in the arrival of some of the students. With any luck, we would be able to get most of the cars through without too many students receiving tardy slips.

  We continued to motion traffic into the school lot without any obstacles until I spotted Scotty Riggs approach on his bicycle. Scotty has been a thorn in my side since Kindergarten when he tied my pony tails together. He has been harassing me and the rest of the student body ever since. I have become immune to his harassment and consider him more of a nuisance than anything.

  “If it isn’t Serina and her kooky friend,” Scotty sneered.

  At that moment, images of all the times Scotty had picked on me and my friends flashed through my mind. Scotty has done a lot of mean things since I’ve known him, but I’m not sure if he was mean enough to steal Mrs. Doyle’s recipe. Nevertheless, I had to consider him a suspect.

  “Stop!” I ordered.

  Instead of stopping, he kept pedaling toward the school. I blew the whistle at the top of my lungs and shouted at him to stop again. When he continued to ignore me, I chased after him.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I need to ask you a few questions.”

  “I don’t have time to mess with you. You’re going to make me late for class.”

  “Where were you Friday night after midnight?” I asked.

  “None of your business,” he sneered.

  “I guess I’ll just have to issue you a citation if you don’t want to cooperate,” I threatened.

  “A citation for what?”

  “You’re not wearing a seatbelt.”

  “I’m riding a bicycle. You can’t give me a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt on a bicycle.”

  “You can debate the case with Mr. Willis,” I said as I tore the ticket from the pad and handed it to him.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “The law is the law,” I said.

  Actually, I knew that the citation was bogus. Mr. Willis would probably be steaming mad when he heard about it. However, I didn’t have a choice. Scotty refused to cooperate. Mr. Willis would probably call Scotty and me both in the office to discuss the ticket. Scotty won’t have a chance to avoid my questions when I get him in the office in front of Mr. Willis.

  After the altercation with Scotty, we finally managed to direct all of the vehicles into the school lot. Unfortunately, we didn’t get the last car through until ten after eight. All of the children dropped off after 7:45 were considered late and would have to get a tardy slip before they would be allowed to report to class. This included Sara and I since the crossing guards were always the last students to enter the school.

  When we entered the front doors of the school, we were awestruck at the mass of students gathered in the front hall. We attempted to wade our way through the crowd to return our equipment to Mr. Willis, but were met with jeers and taunts as we fought through the crowd.

  “Thanks, Serina,” Tommy York said sarcastically. “This is all your fault.”

  As we squeezed through the mob, I spotted Mr. Willis in the office doorway. His face was beat red.

  “I need to see you in my office,” he said to us.

  Normally, a trip to the office was meant with dread and anxiety. This time, however, the office was a refuge from the angry mob in the hall. After finally making it past the mob of students, we marched past the receptionist into Mr. Willis’s office. Along with Mr. Willis, Scotty Riggs was sitting nervously in the office as well. Mr. Willis pointed to the two chairs beside Scotty Riggs and silently ordered us to sit down.

  “Can you explain why you issued Scotty a citation for not wearing a seatbelt?” he asked.

  “Because he wasn’t wearing one,” Sara answered.

  Mr. Willis didn’t say anything, but the expression on his face made it obvious that he was not amused.

  “He wouldn’t cooperate,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Sara and I are investigating the time capsule break-in. He refused to answer my questions.”

  “Is Scotty a suspect?”

  “Everyone is a suspect.”

  A hint of a grin took form on Mr. Willis’s face. “What did you ask him?” he asked.

  “I asked him wher
e he was Saturday night after midnight,” I answered.

  “Well, Scotty, where were you?” Mr. Willis asked.

  “I didn’t do it. I was at home in bed. I promise!” Scotty answered frantically. “I couldn’t have gone anywhere if I had wanted to. I’m still grounded from the time I chased my sister around the house with my pet frog. Mom says that I’m grounded until I’m 17.”

  “Serves you right!” Sara rejoiced.

  “You’re free to go to class, Scotty. I’ll explain everything to Mrs. Reed,” stated Mr. Willis.

  “Are you happy now?” he asked after closing the door behind Scotty.

  “The perpetrator is still at large,” I answered.

  “I appreciate your effort and enthusiasm in helping find the person responsible for the break-in of the time capsule, but all you have accomplished today is shortening our school day by half an hour. You saw the number of students waiting in the hall. If we give everyone a tardy slip, it will be lunch time by the time we get everyone finally in class.”

  “I was trying to keep track of time, but there were too many suspects,” I argued.

  “I also told you not to issue any citations unless there were serious violations, yet you issued Scotty a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt on his bicycle. Somehow, I’m going to have to explain this to the school board.” “Have you got any suggestions how I am supposed to do that?” he asked.

  “They might understand if they knew it was part of an official investigation,” I answered.

  “It’s not an official investigation,” he replied. “If you want to continue your investigation, you’ll have to do it on your own time. You are relieved of your crossing guard duties for the rest of the week.”

  “Does that mean we’re fired?” Sara asked.

  “It means I don’t trust you not to repeat the same scenario tomorrow morning,” he said. “You need to make sure you don’t cause any more trouble during your investigation. I know how determined you probably are to solve the mystery, but you can’t keep disrupting class. If your antics disrupt class in any way, shape, or form in the future, I’ll put an end to your investigation permanently,” he threatened. “Go ahead and get to class. I’m giving you a reprieve this time around.”

  “Do we need a tardy slip?” I asked.

  “That won’t be necessary,” He answered.

  I stopped in the door way and asked, “Can I ask one more thing?”

  “Make it quick,” he replied.

  “Where were you Saturday night after midnight?”

  “You’d better get to class before I change my mind,” he answered.