Chapter Seventeen: Case Closed
Suzy was psyched for the dog show. He dragged me the whole way from our house back to the festival. Once we got there, he settled down and performed a meet and greet with all of the other contestants. He acted excited and wagged his tail as he let the other dog owners pet him, but it was all just a ruse. While he appeared to be just a friendly dog, he was actually scouting the competition. After he was finished scouting, he let out a sigh and lay down on his side. He didn’t seem impressed. I wasn’t impressed either. Most of the owners had dressed their dog in some kind of silly costume. With all the dogs dressed in their funny looking outfits, he should have been a shoo-in to win with his au natural look.
I had to nudge Suzy to wake him up when it was his turn to model for the crowd. While I walked Suzy through various poses, I spied Mr. McCarthy talking to a reporter in the crowd. I knew what was going to happen when Suzy spotted him. It was inevitable. The lackluster dog show was about to get some excitement injected in it.
He spotted Mr. McCarthy as soon as he finished his poses. He locked eyes with his enemy and growled for a moment before making his move. I was unable to contain him with the leash when he left for battle. The handle of the leash burned my hand as it slid through my fingers. Suzy dashed from the stage into the crowd and made a beeline for Mr. McCarthy. Before I could even get off the stage, Suzy had tackled Mr. McCarthy and was standing atop his chest once again.
Suzy’s eyes were focused on the mailman’s neck when I reached the scene. His teeth were clenched menacingly as if he were daring Mr. McCarthy to move. Not knowing what to think, the crowd shrieked in fear. No one dared approach Suzy to rescue Mr. McCarthy. Even though his anger was directed at Mr. McCarthy, he sounded like a mad dog that was liable to do anything. Although he knew him from all the times he had been over to the house to talk to Dad, Sheriff Daniels was even hesitant to approach Suzy. Hoping to diffuse the situation quickly, I grabbed the handle of the leash from the ground and yanked Suzy off of him.
“Arrest this man,” I said to Sheriff Daniels. He is the thief that stole Mrs. Doyle’s Doodle Soup recipe.”
“Arrest me?” I should have you arrested for assault!” Mr. McCarthy bellowed. “After all the times I’ve overlooked that dog attacking me, you’re going to accuse me of being a thief?
“Serina, this has gone far enough. I warned you not to cause any trouble. You need to take Suzy home and put him up,” Sheriff Daniels said.
I pulled the tattered pocket of Mr. McCarthy’s mailbag from my pocket and handed to the sheriff. “This is all the evidence you’ll need. Inside that is a Ziploc bag containing the $2.28 that was stolen from the time capsule along with Mrs. Doyle’s recipe. You’ll find that it matches up exactly with what I deposited in the time capsule last year. It’s been buried in the field behind my house ever since Suzy tore it from his mailbag a few days after the break-in.”
“Oh, I forgot about that. I found the Ziploc bag on the school grounds while I was cleaning up at the school the day after the break-in, Mr. McCarthy explained. “I read in the paper that it belonged to you. I figured that you might want it back, so I put it in my mailbag to give back to you when I dropped your mail off. I never had a chance to give it back. Suzy attacked me and tore my mailbag. I was so disoriented that I forgot all about it.”
“You should have turned that over to the police,” Sheriff Daniels said to Mr. McCarthy. “Nevertheless, it makes sense. I’m sorry about all this.”
“Sorry? Are you not going to arrest him?” I asked.
“Mr. McCarthy is a public servant. You can’t go around accusing everyone, Serina.”
“What about the evidence?”
“His story is believable. At this point, the only evidence that would suffice would be the actual recipe itself. I’m only going to tell you one more time. Take Suzy home and put him up. You’ll be lucky if Mr. McCarthy doesn’t press charges.”
“You might try searching the music class for the recipe. I saw him hide it behind some ceiling tiles.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Mr. McCarthy said with a salesman-like smile.
“He was just telling me about a new soup company he was starting in Florida,” the reporter he had been talking to earlier said.
“Maybe you should come with us as we go check out the music class,” Sheriff Daniels said to Mr. McCarthy.
As Sheriff Daniel and a few deputies led Mr. McCarthy to the school, the festivities resumed and everything returned to normal. I was sitting at a picnic table enjoying another funnel cake when the announcement was made that Mr. McCarthy had been arrested for the theft of Mrs. Doyle’s recipe. It would be revealed later in the Bradford Gazette that Mr. McCarthy wasn’t even his real name. He never worked for the Post Office in Florida either. His whole identity was a ruse. He had heard about the recipe buried in the time capsule and thought that it would be his ticket to riches.
After the announcement was made, cheers erupted throughout the crowd. Ignoring the applause and crowd adoration, I continued to eat my funnel cake.
“How did you know it was Mr. McCarthy?” Lady Sara asked as she sat down beside me.
“Elementary, my dear Sara. He gave himself away. He said that he was changing a light bulb when we approached him at the school, but the light was already on. We saw it all the way from the ball park. Then, he talked about how Mrs. Doyle’s soup was the best in the world. He just moved here from Florida. He wouldn’t have any idea what Mrs. Doyle’s soup tasted like. The mailbag was the icing on the cake.”
“Suzy was instrumental as well,” I continued. “I should have known better than to try and bribe him. The dog biscuits didn’t have anything to do with Suzy liking Mr. Kelly. He considered Mr. Kelly a friend. He knew Mr. McCarthy was rotten from the get-go.”
“Congratulations,” Autumn said as she sat down beside Sara.
“I thought you left for Chicago,” I said bewilderedly.
“We were all packed and ready to go last night, but Mom changed her mind after I told her about finding the stolen change from the time capsule. I begged her to let us stay, but she didn’t need that much convincing. She said that she was tired of running across the country to meet someone else’s deadlines. If anyone is going to set deadlines, she said that it would be her since it’s her company. She decided to move her company to Bradford. Bradford is the Doodle Soup capital of the world after all.”
The case of the missing Doodle Soup recipe was solved and I had my two best friends in the whole world at my side. On top of that, I still had some of the funnel cake left. This must have been the paradise that Mr. Brady spoke of.
“Friends ‘til the end,” I said.
“Nothing will come between the three of us again, Autumn said.
“We’ll stick together like peanut butter and jelly,” said Sara.
“Like peanut butter and jelly,” Autumn and I agreed.
The End
Thank you for reading Serina K. and the Case of the Missing Recipe. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer. Your reviews will help bring exposure to Serina K. as well as let me know if you enjoyed my work. If you haven't already, be sure to check out Introducing Serina K., Ph.D. and Future Famous Person. If you really liked Serina K.'s adventures, be on the lookout for a brand new adventure in mid-2015.
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Brad G. Moore
About the Author
Brad G. Moore gained his love for reading at an early age when his older sister introduced him to Margret and H.A. Rey's classic character, Curious George. Although he is an avid mystery fan, his greatest influences as a writer are John D. Fitzgerald's The Great Brain, Keith Robertson's Henry Reed, and Beverly Cleary's Ramona. The character Serina K. and her fantastic exploits is based on the real adventures of his youngest daughter, Serina. Mr. Moore now resides in Bradford, TN.
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