Dog-Gone Danger by Linda Joy Singleton

Author:Linda Joy Singleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Albert Whitman & Company
Published: 2018-03-22T04:00:00+00:00

How many pets do you own? 1–3

3 or more

None

Which animal do you consider the most intelligent? Dog

Cat

Bird

“These questions are too random to be useful,” I say as I return the clipboard to Leo.

“The questions are unimportant. It’s the pen that matters.” Leo lifts his chin confidently. “When the suspect holds the pen, Becca will use her social skills to lead up to the important questions, such as why was animal control called to this house? All we know is that the call log had a ZWELF code: concerns for an animal’s welfare. But this pen will tell us much more. If the red light flashes, we’ll know the suspect is lying. But if the green light stays on, the suspect is being truthful.”

Becca leans over to look at the clipboard. “C, B, B,” she says. “Those are my answers.”

“You don’t need to answer.” Leo shakes his head. “You’re not a suspect.”

“I should hope not.” She giggles. “But I can’t resist answering questions. I like the third one best. Everyone knows cats are the smartest animal.”

“Cats are great, but dogs are smarter,” I argue. “Major is so smart that he found Buggy.”

“You’re both incorrect.” Leo waves the poly-truth pen at us. “While our kittens are exceptionally smart and Major is a clever dog, it’s a known fact that birds have the superior brains. Crows and ravens are highly intelligent and have been known to use logic and multitask.”

“Then why are silly people called birdbrains?” Becca teases.

Leo regards her seriously, thinking a moment. “That’s an illogical term. Anatomically, a bird has a large brain compared to its head size.”

I playfully nudge Becca. “He must be telling the truth because his truth pen is flashing green.”

“Facts never lie,” Leo says as he hands the clipboard to Becca. “You may ask the questions.”

As we near the door, I hold my breath. Each address we’ve gone to has led us into trouble. The apartment manager reported us to the sheriff, which was embarrassing. And the last address led us to a rifle-toting dognapper.

I glance around at this ordinary-looking house. The lawn is freshly mowed, and the small bushes beneath the front windows are neatly trimmed. The porch is small, only as wide as the front door itself. I don’t get any scary vibes. But someone filed a report about an animal’s welfare, so something terrible may have happened here.

Becca clenches the clipboard.

Leo reaches out and presses his finger on the doorbell.

My pulse jumps at the sound of footsteps from within the house…coming closer…closer…

When the door bursts open, I stare up at a tall, blond man wearing dark-green tights, matching green gloves, and a shiny gold shirt that appears to be made of fish scales. And he’s holding a three-pronged spike.

Leo gasps. “Aquaman?”

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