I So Don't Do Mysteries by Barrie Summy Page A

Wild Animal Park ticket out of my mini-backpack and push it toward her. “And he totally lied
about not going to the Park. This ticket fell out of his pocket. And he tried to talk us out of going
there.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo, don’t you think it’s all just a little suspicious? Like maybe
there really is a mystery at the Park? And Rob’s investigating it? Or maybe he’s even
guilty of something?”
    â€œYeah, I think Rob’s guilty of something,” Junie says.
“Guilty of trying to impress Amber.”
    Hmmmm. Maybe. And maybe of something even more devious.

It’s nine a.m. Monday morning, my first full day in
San Diego. Kendra and I are in her rental Jeep Wrangler, zooming north. The wind is whistling and
whipping in through the half doors, attacking the many plastic grocery bags on the backseat. Because I
wasn’t sure which Mary Kay products Kendra would use, I grabbed a few of everything.
    Junie and Amber left crazy early for their big debut as extras. I told them I was going to
the Wild Animal Park with a tour group from the Hotel Del. I didn’t want to lie, but I was
worried Amber would spill the beans to Damon about Kendra going to the Park. Besides,
Junie’s made it clear she doesn’t want to hear anything even remotely mystery related.
Because she’s so convinced there isn’t a mystery.
    I’m cutely outfitted for detecting in navy shorty shorts and a white blouse with
teeny cornflowers around an elastic scoop neck. I’m carrying a large, floppy denim hat. Sadly,
Kendra’s dressed only slightly better than last night. She’s wearing old-lady clothes: a
tan safari-shorts-and-button-down combo with a thick masculine belt. She’d definitely earn a
Fashion Ewwww.
    Both sides of the highway are blanketed with blindingly bright red, orange and yellow
plants. Miles off in the distance, green hills are dotted with rocks that look like huge Pippi
Longstocking freckles. It’s like I’m in a high-def Nickelodeon cartoon.
    â€œSherry,” Kendra asks, “how’d you know about the
unauthorized rhino treats?”
    I won’t answer. I can’t tell her about my mom because of Academy
rules. Plus, I don’t want to. I don’t need even more people thinking I’m
whacked. Cupping my ear, I say, “Huh? Huh? Can’t hear you.”
    She raises her voice. “How’d you know about the unauthorized rhino
treats?”
    After pasting on a puzzled look, I mouth,
Can’t hear you
.
    Jaws open wide like a whale’s, Kendra screams each word individually.
“How. Did. You. Know. About. The. Rhino. Treats!”
    Help. She’ll never give up. After drawing an X across my chest with my index
finger, I answer in a normal voice, “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”
    She picks up her sports bottle and squirts water down her throat. Then she slings a
slit-eyed look at me.
    â€œI can’t break a promise, Kendra. Sorry—really—but I
have my integrity to consider.”
    Before I can pop off a question about Damon’s finances, she asks,
“How’d you get so interested in helping the rhinos?”
    Kendra, stop already. She’s like Nancy Drew’s obnoxious big sister.
“My mother.”
    â€œYour mother?” Her eyes widen, even the smaller one. “Does
she work with rhinos?”
    â€œNot that I know of. She’s just, uh, you know, interested in
them.”
    There’s only the sound of the wind zipping around the Jeep, rattling the plastic
bags while Kendra digests this.
    I get straight to the point. “So, I read in the paper that Damon’s having
a hard time getting money for his movie. Is it true?”
    Kendra brushes me off like I’m a nerdy thirteen-year-old. “Want to hear
the speech I’m giving at the ceremony?”
    Eventually we exit the highway and drive along a two-lane road. We