Secret of the Red Arrow Read Online Free PDF

asked.
    “You know . . . with a mystery .”
    A mystery. There it was. You have no idea how a reputation as a teenage detective can complicate your life. Frank started to answer, but I gave him a nudge. He picked up on my wariness and stayed silent. The truth was, although it sounded harmless and kind of fun, this wasn’t an innocent topic for us anymore. There were serious consequences for us involved with anything remotely connected to sleuthing. Consequences that Frank and I didn’t talk about, because . . . well, we didn’t like to think about them. Not that they would stop us. But we still had to be more careful now than we used to be.
    “Why ask us?” I said cautiously.
    “Oh, come on,” Sharelle said. “Don’t give me that. Everybody knows you guys are, like, Sherlock Squared. You’re both packing heat, right?”
    “Don’t believe everything you hear, Sharelle.”
    “Well, anyway—I need help. Or . . . well, Neal needs help.” She was the only person in school who did not refer to her older brother as Neanderthal Bunyan—yes, the same charming fellow who’d introduced Frank to his impending Internet fame this morning. He was also the star linebacker of the BHS football team.
    “Is he all right? Did something happen to him?”
    “Yes. He’s . . . fine, more or less. Physically at least. But . . .”
    She glanced around the hall. Clearly, she was uneasy discussing this out in the open. “Look, I’m going to ask for a bathroom pass. Can you guys follow me, and we can talk about it out by the vending machines?” It would be quieter there. Apparently, the blood drive had been a cover story to make contact with us.
    She got up to lead us out of the cafeteria. I was cautious but curious. I started to follow her, but Frank said, “We’ll meet you there in five.”
    Sharelle seemed puzzled. She looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she just nodded and walked off.
    Frank watched her go up to Coach Gerther, get her pass, and head out the door. Then he turned to me, his expression dark. “Neanderthal Bunyan—asking us for help,” he said. “That doesn’t seem odd to you?”
    The truth was, it did.
    It was six or seven months ago—before we had to retire. Joe and I had tracked down a drug ring. What we didn’t know or anticipate was the series of busts around town that would follow—the consequences of our investigation, including the arrest of the former star linebacker for the Bayport High School football team, Neal “Neanderthal” Bunyan, all-state three years running, who had apparently been abusing steroids.
    Neanderthal Bunyan had good reason to enjoy seeing Frank and me humiliated. Would he even accept our help?
    “Let’s just be careful,” Frank suggested.
    It might be a challenge, in some classes, for two brothers to get bathroom passes for simultaneous bathroom trips. But fortunately, Coach Gerther had stopped caring a long time ago, possibly before we were born. He grabbed two passes from a big coffee can he kept on his desk and waved us away.
    We found Sharelle waiting where she said she’d be, by the vending machines. Frank and I took a seat on either side of her.
    “So what’s going on with Neanderthal?” I said.
    “Okay,” she said in an excited whisper. “This, like, totally insane thing has been happening. . . .”

MONITORED
5
FRANK
    I ’M NOT SURE WHO WAS
     THE LEAST COMFORT -able when Sharelle led Joe and me into Neanderthal
     Bunyan’s bedroom that afternoon. Neanderthal was lying back on his bed, all his
     attention focused on the football-themed video game he was playing on the TV that hung
     on the wall.
    “Get out, Sharelle,” he said without looking up, but when
     three people walked in, and not one, he sighed, hit a pause button, and looked up.
    “Oh,” he said, looking startled and not pleased.
     “It’s—”
    “You need help, Neal,” Sharelle said in a bossy voice. I had a
     sudden premonition of what it might feel