Murder at Redwood Cove Read Online Free PDF Page B

handed Tommy a cookie and took one for myself. A small crumb fell, and a gull darted in.
    â€œThey’re Utah’s state bird.” Tommy took a bite of cookie as he observed the bird. “There’s a monument in Salt Lake City celebrating the miracle of the gulls. They saved the city from a plague of crickets.”
    One bird walked toward us, eyeing the cookie in my hand.
    â€œThey had a protected status for a while in California because their numbers were getting smaller at Mono Lake, but then their population really grew near San Francisco. They went from less than one thousand birds in 1982 to over thirty-three thousand in 2006.”
    I stared at the talking encyclopedia. “How do you know so much about gulls?”
    â€œI love learning new things.” He finished his cookie, wiped a smear of chocolate from his lip with the back of his hand, and looked at my pad. “What’re you doing?”
    â€œWriting a report.”
    â€œSort of like homework, huh?”
    â€œYes”—I laughed—“sort of like homework.”
    Tommy looked out at the sea. Fred groaned contentedly as he soaked up the rays of the sun. The boy reached out and petted him, then leaned down and fiercely wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck, burying his face in the smooth black and tan fur.
    â€œI like learning, but I hate school.” His voice sounded muffled. “I’m a reject like Fred.”
    Reject . A harsh, cruel word. I stared at my cookie. Safer to start with the dog.
    â€œWhy do you say that about Fred?”
    â€œHe was supposed to be a cancer-detecting dog, but he failed his test,” Tommy mumbled.
    â€œI vaguely remember reading something in the newspaper about dogs and their ability to detect cancer. Can you explain it to me?”
    Tommy sat up. “The dog’s sense of smell is like ten thousand times better than ours.”
    Fred’s ears twitched as a couple of sand flies buzzed around him. Tommy shooed them away.
    â€œOne study showed they can detect lung cancer and melanomas at a ninety-nine percent rate of accuracy. Another one rated their success at eighty-eight percent to ninety-seven percent. The dogs are trained to signal the person when they smell something. Cody, a poodle, would sit on the person’s foot. Some dogs use different signals. They can detect other cancers, too.”
    Okay. Very, very smart. There was something different about him. He wasn’t like most ten-year-olds I knew.
    Tommy rubbed the dog’s ears. “Fred was in training at the clinic where my dad went when he got sick, but he never learned how to do it. Fred was going to be given to a dog group for placement.” Tears began to well up. “When my dad died, they asked us if we wanted him.”
    My throat constricted, and I dove into my pack for Kleenex.
    Quiet sobs then some sniffles.
    I took a tissue for myself and offered him one. “I have one last cookie. How about splitting it?”
    He slowly reached out, took the Kleenex, wiped his eyes, and blew his nose. Fred licked his hand and stared with his deep brown hound eyes at the boy. Tommy shoved the tissue in his pocket and took the half cookie.
    â€œWhy did you call yourself a reject?”
    â€œIt’s what the kids call me at school.” Tommy looked at the dog. “The kids hate me. They call me names, sometimes come after me. I hate school.” He rose up on his knees, reached out, picked up a piece of nearby driftwood, and hurled it at the crashing waves. “Hate it.”
    â€œWhy do they pick on you?”
    â€œI like to learn, I talk to my teachers, I get good grades, I don’t play sports, I don’t listen to music, I’m not interested in being popular. . .” He stopped for breath.
    â€œThat’s quite a list.”
    â€œMom thought moving here would make things better.” He grabbed another piece of wood, arched his back, and flung it with a