The Missing Hamster and Other Cases (A 3 Mystery Collection Boxed Set)

By Mandy Broughton

Own all three--Cream Cape and the Case of the Missing Hamster, The Case of the Flying Saucer, and The Case of the Blue-Hair Heist.

Case 1: Harriet the class hamster has been hamster-napped! Cece's supposed to be taking care of the precious pet but everything goes wrong. She loses Harriet. And then she receives a ransom note with a picture of Harriet in front of a snake's cage! Will the class hate her when they find out? Can she save Harriet in time?

Case 2: Cece's sister has gone crazy. She believes aliens have landed in their backyard. And what's going on with that stray dog? The girls are on a new case investigating strange lights and sounds coming from the field behind their house. 

Dee Dee disappears for long periods of time, and Cece wants to know what's going on. Are those really alien lights? Can Cece solve the mystery before her sister goes bonkers? 

Case 3: Memories aren't the only thing missing in this quiet little community of blue-haired grandparents. When Cece and her sister, Dee Dee visit Gram and Gramps for Christmas, jewelry begins to disappear. 

The amateur sleuths investigate the crazy cast of suspects including blue-hair busybodies, furry pets and annoying boys. Is the jewelry truly stolen or have the blue-hairs misplaced the jewelry like they've misplaced most of their memories? 

Kids and parents alike will enjoy these clean-read mystery and all the furry friends found in each of the books.

Ages 7+ 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mandy Broughton
• Release date: Oct 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9780989497565

Book preview

Macintosh HD:Users:AmandaGrein:Documents:Kid Artwork:9780989497510small.jpg

Case 1:

Cream Cape and the

Case of the

Missing Hamster

Written by Mandy Broughton

www.MandyBroughton.com

Cream Cape and the

Case of the Missing Hamster: #1

Written by Mandy Broughton

Chapter 1: Writing Contests and Growling Boys

The wolf growled at Red Riding Hood, who stared into his beady yellow eyes. If you leave now and promise to never bother us again, we’ll let you go, she said.

The wolf laughed. I’ll leave after dinner. He opened his mouth wide, leaning toward Red Riding Hood. Harriet the hamster scurried away from the wolf. The wolf opened his mouth wider. But first, I’m going to have an appetizer.

The wolf snatched Harriet. No! yelled Red Riding Hood. Harriet wiggled, trying to bite the wolf.

Cream Cape, Red’s little sister, grabbed the broom. She whacked the wolf. Ouch! the wolf yelped, dropping Harriet.

Red Riding Hood grabbed the lid off the pot of boiling water. Hit him again, Cream! she yelled.

Cream Cape whacked him again. He teetered toward the waiting pot over the fire. No, he pleaded, losing his balance. Harriet leapt into Cream’s hands as the wolf fell into the pot.

Red Riding Hood covered the pot with the lid. The wolf struggled to get out. He managed to stick his foot out. Cream Cape shoved his foot back in as Red held the lid down, firmly this time.

Oh, my, I must have fainted, Granny said, sitting up in her bed. I dreamed a wolf got in and tried to eat me.

Red Riding Hood looked at Cream Cape. You’re okay, Granny. No wolf’s trying to eat you, she said.

What smells so good? Granny asked. Are you girls cooking something for your sick and ailing grandmother?

Yes, Granny. We’re cooking lunch, Red Riding Hood said. The pot quit bouncing around. Red removed her hands from the lid.

Harriet nuzzled into Cream Cape’s hands. She stroked him. Chili, Cream Cape said, grinning at her sister. We thought we’d make some wolf chili.

"The End." My voice echoed throughout the auditorium. I looked around at the fourth and fifth graders and took my papers off the podium, then I walked over to my seat next to the other kids on stage.

Thank you, Cece, Mrs. Gonzales said, "for that unusual version of Little Red Riding Hood." Mrs. Gonzales cleared her throat. She appeared quite choked up.

Although I’m a little concerned about the killing and eating of an endangered animal.

Self-defense, I said from my seat, loudly enough to carry to the microphone. Laughter rippled through the auditorium. I’d rather eat the wolf than be eaten myself.

Yes, well, thank you. Mrs. Gonzales turned back to the assembly with that same funny look on her face. Maybe she wasn’t choked up over my story like I thought. She cleared her throat again. Students, please mark your ballots for your favorite story and hand them to the door monitors as you leave the assembly. We’ll announce the winner of the creative writing contest at the end of the day. Dismissed. The auditorium erupted in noise. Mrs. Gonzales turned to us on stage. Children, please wait until everyone has exited and then return to class.

Two boys groaned when Mrs. Gonzales addressed us as children. I don’t know why they groaned; it’s not like she just started calling us children. I kept shuffling my papers, trying to get them to line up straight.

Great story, Cece, a girl behind me whispered.

Yours too, I said, though I couldn’t remember her story. My mind still a blank from reading in front of such a large audience. Her story had either been about Cinderella or Hansel and Gretel.

Each month our school held a creative writing contest. Teachers and class members always selected the best stories. At our monthly assemblies, five finalists read their stories. I think they did this to keep the students from falling asleep. I'm not sure how successful it was, because those assembly announcements were pretty boring. October was take a well-known fairy tale and make it my own contest.

A few students straggled out of the auditorium. That seemed to be our cue to leave. No one seemed ready to go to class, so we dawdled along.

Great story, Baret, one boy said, waiting outside the doors. He grinned. Although I voted for the fourth grader.

My face turned red. I was the only fourth grader to read a story this month.

Shut your trap, Baret said.

Yeah, Baret, another boy said, grabbing his arm. I guess this will be the first contest you won’t win. Both boys laughed. The second one punched Baret on the arm.

Baret shoved the first boy and yanked his arm free. Drop it.

The first boy’s laugh came out as more of a snort. Bad enough to be beaten by a girl. But a fourth grader? He rolled his shoulder into Baret’s shoulder. Catch you later, loser. The two boys strutted off to class.

Baret growled deep in his throat. He faced me. They haven’t announced the winner yet. He stomped off to class.

Maybe you should make some Baret chili, said Jay, another boy from the finalists’ group.

The two remaining girls giggled. I smiled a little. Why was Baret so angry? He hadn’t even lost yet.

Later in the day, with Baret’s bizarre anger forgotten, I wondered if school would ever end. I love school. I’m usually disappointed when it ends. Today, though, waiting for the winner to be announced, I looked forward to it.

I stared at the clock again. Had it stopped running? No, five minutes later than when I first looked at it. Or maybe I had stared at the clock for five minutes and the big hand really did move. The movement had to be slower than Alice’s fall down the well into Wonderland.

After an eternity, Mrs. Jones told us to pull out our math workbooks. I sat up straighter. Math was the last subject before lining up for buses.

Class, Mrs. Jones said. Before I forget and we start on our math, I won’t be here tomorrow. I need a student take Harriet home today. She pulled out her roll book.

Keep Harriet, our class hamster, an extra day as well as over the weekend? Mrs. Jones almost succeeded in helping me forget about the coming announcement. Almost.

Harriet couldn’t stay at the school by herself on the weekend. Mrs. Jones selected a student to take her home each Friday. She usually picked the student that received the highest grade that week or did the best project.

I loved Harriet. She stayed on the countertop not too far from my desk. She was the inspiration for my story. Well, part of it. I loved watching her run in her wheel, eat her food, sleep. She was the best hamster in the world. If I had a hamster, I’d only want Harriet.

The weekend before, I was the one who took Harriet home. She stayed in my room. As much as I loved Harriet, my sister, Dee Dee, absolutely adored her. Dee Dee begged Dad to let us have a hamster. He said something about no furry beast was going to live in his house. He made all hamsters sound like the wolf from my story. Dee Dee was crushed, but I was okay. I loved Harriet. But no other hamster would be as good or as much fun as Harriet. If I couldn’t have Harriet, I’d want a cat. Or maybe an iguana.

It would be great to have Harriet again that weekend, not just for me, but Dee Dee as well. I could only wish. Mrs. Jones had a rule that no student could have her two weekends in a row.

Max, Mrs. Jones said, looking up from her roll book. You did the best on—

Attention fourth and fifth graders. Mrs. Gonzales’s voice boomed over the loud speaker. "The winner of this month’s creative writing contest, selected by students and not myself, is Red Riding Hood and Cream Cape Tackle the Big Bad Wolf by Cece—"

My class shouted so loud we couldn’t hear the rest of the announcement. I heard several whoops, and everyone ran over to pat me on the back. My cheeks started hurting from grinning.

After a while, Mrs. Jones finally settled us down. My classmates returned to their seats but were still restless. No math today. Now the clock hands seemed to race around the face.

Congratulations, Cece, she said. This is quite an accomplishment. I think you should get Harriet this weekend.

But Mrs. Jones, Max said. You said I could have her.

Mrs. Jones tilted her head to one side. Max, I hadn’t selected you yet. No, I feel this is really a big accomplishment for Cece and our class. I’ve never had one of my fourth graders win. I want her to have Harriet this weekend. You may have her next weekend.

I don’t want her next weekend. Max clenched his teeth. His face was almost as red as his hair was dark. Red as a beet came to my mind. You said—

I said you can have her next weekend, Mrs. Jones repeated, although I can take that back. Do I make myself clear?

Max remained silent.

Do I make myself clear? Mrs. Jones set her jaw.

Yes, he said, beet face with black hair.

Yes, what?

Yes, ma’am, Max growled. What was it with boys and growling? Twice in one day.

Mrs. Jones nodded at me. I jumped up and dashed to Harriet’s cage. I heard Max mumble something about it’s not fair as I flew by his desk.

I barely had time to gather all Harriet’s stuff, my school books, and my bag before the final bell rang, dismissing our class.

Macintosh HD:Users:AmandaGrein:Documents:Kid Artwork:CeceMagnifyingGlasssmall.jpg

Chapter 2: Peanut Butter and Hamsters

I usually rode the bus home, but on Thursdays, we had American Heritage Girls. Mom was the troop leader. I ran to the cafeteria to show her my good luck in getting Harriet another weekend. I saw her at the end of one table, setting out peanuts onto paper plates.

Mom, I yelled. Mom! Look! I held up Harriet’s cage as I ran over.

She glanced at Harriet and sighed. Aren’t there other kids in your class? Do we have to have that hamster again? And isn’t there a rule about not having her twice in a row?

Harriet’s cage shook as I plopped it down on the table. I quickly told Mom the great news. She sighed again, rolled her eyes, kissed me on the head, and continued placing peanuts onto paper plates.

What are the peanuts for? I asked.

We’re making peanut butter, Mom said.

How? I said.

We’ll learn in the meeting, she said. She placed another handful of peanuts onto a paper plate.

I picked up a peanut in its shell. I ate peanut butter toast every morning for breakfast. It was smooth and tasty. The shell looked stringy. I pulled the shell apart. I put the two halves of the hard peanut in my mouth and ate it. I didn’t think it could be done. I knew peanut butter. I told Mom as much.

We’ll learn how in the meeting, Mom said.

Learn. Meeting. Peanut, another voice said.

Huh? I looked under the table. My baby brother was playing with his cars.

I started to show Harriet to Tommy but stopped when I remembered that last weekend all Tommy did was try to get Harriet out of her cage and hold her. I sat down on the bench seat but bounced up again when I saw my sister’s blond head across the cafeteria.

Dee Dee! I waved at her. Look what I have. As she ran over, I picked up the cage. Harriet became rigid and clung to the side. Food spilled out of her bowl. Whoops, sorry, Harriet. I gently put the cage down.

Awesome. Got her for the story? Dee Dee said.

Yeah, Mrs. Jones said it was a ‘big accomplishment.’

Cool, Dee Dee said. I have another chance to win Dad over. This time Dad will have to fall in love with her. Dee Dee stuck her fingers in the wire mesh and wiggled them. I didn’t tell her about Mom’s less-than-enthusiastic response. And Mom was the one open to getting a pet.

As the girls gathered for our scout meeting, they all admired Harriet. Mom broke us up and began the meeting. She told us to shell our peanuts and then explained we would put them in the blender with a little oil. We would grind them into peanut butter. I shelled my peanuts and waited my turn at the blender.

Cece. I looked around. Max, the beet-faced boy, stood at the end of the table next to Harriet’s cage. I stepped out of line and walked over to him.

I’ll take Harriet home today, and you can have her next weekend, he said. He picked up Harriet’s cage.

No, I said, snatching it from him. I hugged Harriet and her cage close to my chest. Mrs. Jones said I could have her.

It’s not fair, he said. You can’t have her two weekends in a row.

Mrs. Jones made an exception, I said.

I’ll never do that well on a project again. Max’s eyes got red, matching his face. Mrs. Jones’ll forget, and someone else will get her next weekend.

She won’t forget. I’ll—

Cece, please go to the blender, Mom said from behind me. Young man, we’re having a meeting here. Please go on home.

I should have Harriet. It’s not fair, Max said.

Cece? Mom said, looking a little hopeful.

No, I said, before Mom could continue. Mrs. Jones said I could have her this weekend.

Sorry, dear. Mom patted Max on the shoulder. He ducked his head, but not before I saw tears in his eyes.

Max’s shoulders dropped. I think I heard him mumble something else about fairness, and then he ran off. Mom sighed. She motioned for me to put Harriet under the table.

I went back to the blender line. I couldn’t believe Max was crying over not getting a hamster.

The rest of the meeting flew by. Before I knew it, I was putting my little jar of peanut butter in my backpack. I gathered the rest of my stuff together.

Hi, Harriet, I said. Sorry you had to go under the table. Mom didn’t like the distraction. I pulled the cage out and set it down. I started to open the door, but it was already open. I stuck my finger inside the cage. Harriet?

Dee Dee leaned around me to look. She’s gone!

Oh, no, I said. Mom. MOM!

She’s gone, Dee Dee said. She’s gone!

MOM!

Cece, Dee Dee, please stop yelling, Mom said. What’s wrong?

She’s gone, Dee Dee said.

I showed Mom the empty cage.

Chapter 3: Sweet Hamster Swept Away

The cage is open, I said. She’s gone. She’s lost. She could be anywhere. She’s never been in the cafeteria before. Where could she be? I had to find her. I crawled under the table. Dee Dee followed me.

Harriet! I yelled. Harriet!

Harriet! Dee Dee joined me.

Stop yelling. Mom grabbed my ankles. Dee Dee kept calling for Harriet.

Mom, I have to find her, I said, struggling as Mom pulled me out from underneath the table. Mrs. Jones trusted me. She picked me to take care of her. Harriet doesn’t know how to take care of herself. What if a cat finds her? What if a cat eats her?

Or she could starve, Dee Dee said. She could starve to death.

Oh, no, I said. My heart pounded in my chest. If we don’t find her, she’ll starve to death.

Stop it, both of you, Mom said. We’ll look for her. When did you last see her?

Here, I pointed to the table. You made me put her under the table. I wanted to keep her here where I could see her. But no, you made me put her here, under the table. My voice shook.

I looked around. Tommy was still playing with his cars under the table.

Tommy. I crawled over next to him. Did you see Harriet? Tommy doesn’t talk much yet, but maybe he could tell me where she went.

No, no, guy, Tommy said. Har gone gone.

I bet he opened the cage, Dee Dee said. I bet he let her out.

I gasped. Maybe he did. Tommy, did you let Harriet out of her cage?

No, no, guy, Tommy said again. He looked sincere. Har gone gone.

See, he knows she’s gone, Dee Dee said. He let her out. Remember last weekend? He always wanted to pet Harriet.

Tommy! I said. How could you let her out? She’s supposed to stay in her cage. Everyone trusted me to take care of her, and now she’s gone! Tears started to roll down my face.

Cece. Mom pulled me out from under the table. We don’t know Tommy opened the cage. I’m not even sure he can. Mom pulled Tommy out next. Tommy, did you see Harriet the hamster leave her cage?

Uh-huh. Tommy nodded his head.

See, I told you so, Dee Dee said. I bet—

Dee Dee, please be quiet. You don’t know, Mom said, and then she turned back to Tommy. Tommy did you open the Harriet’s cage?

Noooo, Tommy said.

Are you sure? I asked.

Noooo. Tommy shook his head.

See, Dee Dee said. He—

Dee Dee, he doesn’t understand, Mom said. He thinks you are asking him the same question. Now he said he didn’t open the cage. Quit blaming your brother, and start looking for Harriet.

But—

Cece, janitor. Dee Dee, kitchen. Now. Mom turned away from us. She began walking along the tables, looking under them with Tommy.

Okay, I mumbled, walking over to the janitor. I rubbed my face with my hands. I’ll go ask Mr. Schmidt to keep an eye out for a poor starving little hamster. I hope he won’t accidentally step on her or sweep her away.

Dee Dee started to say something as I walked toward Mr. Schmidt. I heard Mom cut her off.

Mr. Schmidt was mopping in a far corner of the cafeteria. No, child, I haven't seen a hamster. He shook his head.

She has a white patch on her head—

I'll watch for her as I sweep, Mr. Schmidt said, interrupting me. She won't be the first hamster I've been asked to look for. Probably won't be the last. I keep telling Mrs. Flowers to not let you children have rodents in school.

Yes, sir, I agreed, not quite sure what I was agreeing with. You'll look for a little hamster with a white patch on her head and a white band—

I said I would, didn't I? Mr. Schmidt continued his slow, methodical mopping. Just like you children, Mrs. Flowers won't listen to me either. I left him to mumble to himself as I desperately searched along the walls of the cafeteria for Harriet. I could not find any sign of her.

Early the next morning, I told Mom I didn’t feel like going to school. She responded with her usual sit down and eat breakfast routine. Mom placed some peanut butter toast cut into fourths on the table in front of me.

Cece, I’ve got a plan, Dee Dee said as soon as Mom walked away. Let’s not tell anyone yet about Harriet. We’ll ask everyone in our troop when they last remember seeing Harriet. Then maybe we can find her before anyone knows she’s missing.

But if we ask them if they’ve seen Harriet, they’ll know she’s missing, I said. I put two squares of toast on top of the other two.

Dee Dee paused. We’ll ask what their favorite thing about Harriet is. That way we can talk about Harriet without having to tell them she’s missing. We’ll get clues about when they last saw her.

I don’t know, I said. I still think the class won’t like me any more. What about when everyone asks how Harriet’s doing?

You can answer honestly, Dee Dee said. You can say she’s not used to being in a different place.

Oh. I piled two squares of my toast on top of the other two squares. What about Monday when I have to bring her back?

We’ll find her by then, Dee Dee said. I just know we will.

Mom came back and sat at the table with us. We need to get a new hamster for your class, she said.

What? Dee Dee and I shouted.

We’ll find her, Dee Dee said. I have a plan.

I hope we’ll find her too, Mom said. But I don’t think there’s much hope. Since we didn’t find her yesterday— Mom paused. Anyway, if we don’t, we’ll go by the pet store and buy a new hamster. We’ll explain to Mrs. Jones on Monday.

Buy a new Harriet? I said. Buy a new Harriet? We can’t replace Harriet. She’s special. We can’t just buy a new Harriet.

We won’t have to, Dee Dee said. We’ll find her.

What if Dee Dee went missing? Would we just buy a new Dee Dee? I said. Or Tommy—

I hope we do find her, Mom said, looking at Dee Dee. She turned to me. But if we don’t, we’ll need a backup plan. And that includes buying a new hamster. Mom held up her hand before I could speak. I know Harriet is special, and I’m not saying we’re trying to replace her. I am saying we’re responsible for her disappearance. If we can’t find her, then we need to buy a new hamster for the class. That is called taking care of our responsibility. Mom left the table and went into the kitchen. Dee Dee and I watched her go.

Don’t worry, Cece, Dee Dee said, finishing her second piece of toast. She got up from the table. I’ll help you find her. That’s called being sisters.

I smiled a little.

Buy a new Dee Dee, she muttered, leaving the room. As if.

Maybe Dee Dee’s plan would work. When I thought about Mom’s plan, buying a new Harriet, my stomach started hurting again.