The Incredible Polly McDoodle (The Polly McDoodle Mystery Series Book 4) Page 9

  Next she flipped to the Yellow Pages and looked up Insurance Agents. There were seven pages of those. Right below a big ad for SGI, the Saskatchewan Government Insurance was a smaller ad for Stone Insurance Company: “W. J. Stone and Sons. Specializing in insurance for farms and farm equipment. Protecting you, your land, and your machinery.”

  Polly gulped. She was getting an idea, a scary idea. If Kyle was going to do research in Edmonton maybe she could do some simple checking in Regina. She turned back to the white pages and looked up W. J. She hated phones. She hated phoning strangers. Her hand shook as she dialled W. J. Stone’s home number.

  The phone rang three times. An older woman’s voice came on: “Hi, you’ve reached the home of William and Wilma Stone. We can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number and a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as we possible. The Stone family can take care of all your insurance needs. Have a Happy Thanksgiving. We’ll be in touch.”

  Polly hung up without leaving a message. She’d been keyed up to ask for Mr. Stone, the teacher, so she could ask him about the assignment for Tuesday. He hadn’t been there. She had no way of knowing if this was his family. She wished she’d kept the business card from the file folder on Stone’s desk.

  She chewed her lip. She had been hoping to eliminate one of the suspects. If Mr. Stone was here in Regina he couldn’t be robbing mail boxes in Edmonton. But there was no mail delivery on the weekend anyway. Polly tapped her feet on the gold carpet in frustration. She doodled the word “dummy” in block letters on her page.

  She had just wasted the last fifteen minutes. She had to figure out what to do next, back in Edmonton.

  Polly turned to a new page in her sketchbook. She picked up the remote control for the television and flipped channels until she found the movie. She propped her notebook on her legs. She nibbled the top of the pen. During commercials she wrote notes to herself. The rest of the time she sketched and watched the movie with one eye. She drew her family and friends and small squirrels.

  Next steps:

  Talk to the pharmacist without Flora around. Had the Dell boys been in? Did Mr. Stone or his sister visit the store? (She needed to figure out how to ask questions without the pharmacist thinking she was being too nosy.)

  Talk to Mrs. Dobson. See if we can gather some gossip about the neighbourhood.

  Should we follow Mr. Stone?

  Get to know Tommie Lee better.

  How many robberies have there been?

  Has anyone spotted any unusual activity?

  Polly closed her sketchbook with a sigh. There was quite a bit of work for she and Kyle to do.

  The sound of the plastic card in the door made her look up.

  “They played great!” Her dad burst into the room. “Wow! I never had an opportunity like Shawn has. Get ready Polly, we’re taking you out for ice cream.” He headed into the other bedroom.

  Shawn followed Dad. He looked caught between excitement and nervousness. “They’ve been talking about nothing but the practice and every move I made or shot I took.” He strolled across the room and looked over her shoulder at the map with its doodles. “It’s not like I’m Wayne Gretsky. It makes me nervous.”

  Polly glanced into the other room of the hotel suite. Her parents were changing to take them out for treats. Her mom shut the adjoining door.

  Polly brought Shawn up to date on the phone call and the investigation. She showed him her list of suspects and clues. “We’ll pass any solid information along to the police.”

  “I asked around the locker room about Stones by the way. One of the guys said there were Stones in his high school. The boy was a snobby geek who thought he knew everything. The younger one, Benita, hung out with a rough crowd. She was caught with her hand in the till at McDonalds when she worked there. Her parents got her off and sent her away to school.”

  “What do you think we should do next?”

  “You need a security camera hidden in Mrs. Dobson’s apartment building. It sounds like you have plenty of seniors in small houses and apartments near the school. That means pension cheques, maybe investment income, and certainly bank and credit information. Older people don’t do their banking and bill paying by computer or phone. Our accounting teacher told us that. I’ve been taking an accounting course in school.” Shawn sighed. “In case I ever make money from hockey. I’ll need to know how to manage it.”

  Her dad opened the door and he and their mother came in.

  “Let’s go, kids,” Jan said. “You should have seen your brother play.”

  “I did, while you guys slept in. Good, isn’t he?” Polly grinned and slid her sketchbook with the map and the list of suspects and clues under the daily paper. She didn’t want her mom worrying.

  “Weren’t you bored, staying here?” her dad asked. The whole family crowded into the skinny elevator. Two little kids in swimsuits shoved on at the next floor. They smelt like chlorine. Polly thought they’d been in the pool when she and her brother were there. They probably had stayed there most of the day. Their fingers were all pink and wrinkled from being in water so long.

  Polly and Shawn’s folks strode out onto the street and headed down the block.

  “What ever you do, Polly, play it safe. I’d hate anything to happen to you.” Shawn tousled her hair, just like her dad Ted did.

  The Contented and Cautious McDoodle smiled. Polly hummed “Consider yourself one of the family.” She was feeling pretty happy, the Befriended and Bemused McDoodle. She could hardly wait to get a triple decker cone with chocolate, banana, and maybe cookie dough. The Case of the Missing Mail would just have to wait.

  “You better watch out yourself,” she told Shawn. “You’re the one facing body checks and high sticks.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m learning a lot of great moves. The guys on the team are really great. We take care of each other.”

  Polly and Shawn dodged around two mothers talking and wheeling strollers.

  Cars whizzed by on the busy street. A robin sang in a tree.

  “Who are the other guys on your line?”

  Shawn launched into a description of his team mates, the coaches, and the practices and games. Polly listened carefully. Shawn sounded so happy. He was really doing what he loved doing.

  “I miss talking things over with Dad. He keeps up on the latest in the NHL.” Shawn moved ahead to catch up with his dad. Polly joined her mom.

  The wonderful aroma of homemade ice cream floated onto the street as her dad opened the door to the shop. Polly’s senses were deluged in the sweet smell of chocolate, vanilla, and wild berries. She was so thankful for ice cream and having a family that liked desserts. The McDougalls had no problems with food. They loved it.

  “Mom, I want to talk to you about something.”

  “What is it, honey?”

  “I need to know more about anorexia and bul…” Polly hesitated.

  “Bulimia?”

  Polly nodded. “I’ve got a friend who isn’t eating.”

  Mandy was such a smart kid in so many ways except when it came to eating.

  “I’m glad it’s not you.” Her mom sighed. “I’ve got brochures and a video at home. I’ll dig them out as soon as we get back. Do I know your friend?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Let’s have our treat.”

  The bells over the door jangled in the wind as the family rushed in to the sugary, chocolate-smelling store. Polly’s nose twitched in pleasure and her taste buds cried for her favourite flavours. The tiny bells continued to ring more gently, like echoes of themselves as the McDougall family spread out in front of the shiny counter and stared through the polished glass at the many-flavoured tubs of ice cream.

  The tinkle of the bells over the door triggered a strange thought in Polly’s head. Too bad you couldn’t bell a crook like you did a cat that chased birds. She giggled as she pictured all the suspects in the case wearing jingle bells around their neck. Her fingers itched to draw the cartoon. S
quirrels would probably love to have all the cats in Edmonton fitted with bells.

  She chose her flavours and sat outside on a bench, licking the chocolate, banana and nut waffle cone. She’d help Mandy somehow when she got home. She was glad her brother seemed really settled and happy in his new place.

  13. An Empty Envelope and a Big Mouth

  On the way home from Saskatchewan Polly read or listened to music. She had written her essay on loss that morning. It had drained her energy. It was good to relax with a pencil in her hand.

  She drew long straight highways with telephone poles. She worked on her squirrel sketches. She drew bells on cats and crooks. After they stopped for hamburgers at a Husky station Polly chewed her lip and spoke up while her dad was in the washroom.

  “Mom,” she said. “How skinny does a dancer have to be? Do they have to starve themselves to stay that way? Is it because the boys have to lift the girls?”

  Her mom put down her BLT. “Whoa! What brought this on? Are you planning on taking up dancing?”

  “No,” she sighed. “I’m worried about Mandy. I know you like her a lot because she’s so athletic and limber, but she doesn’t eat.”

  “So that’s who you were talking about.”

  Polly nodded.

  “Mandy’s a nice girl. She and I have a lot in common. I loved dancing when I was her age. But I never starved myself. She shouldn’t be starving herself. If she is that’s a problem.”

  “Could you encourage her to eat?” asked Polly. “I’m afraid to. After all I love food and I’m no dancer.”

  “When you get home maybe you should talk to Mandy’s aunt. Have you thought of going to the school counselor?’

  “Good idea.” Polly wasn’t sure she could go that far. She’d have to watch for an opportunity to do something though.

  “I’m proud of the way you seem to care about your friends, Polly.” Her mom smiled. “Being a tweenager is pretty hard work.”

  Polly shrugged and ate a French fry that she had dragged through a pool of ketchup.

  Her mother reached across the table and took Polly’s free hand. “I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. Not even Mandy. I may not understand you all the time but I love you.”

  Tears threatened to fill Polly’s eyes. “Here comes Dad.”

  “There was a kid buying an ugly Halloween mask at the gift counter so I watched him,” Ted said as he slid into the booth. “I think I’ll dress as a basketball player.”

  “Again,” laughed Polly.

  “People make too much of a fuss about Halloween,” said Polly’s mom. “It’s all right for little kids. Mature people should just forget it.”

  “Does that mean I can’t take part in the Spookarama at school?” Polly asked.

  “I didn’t say that. I just think it’s gone too far.” Jan cleaned her plate and picked up the tab. She walked to the counter to pay it. Her back was straight as a die and her head was held high. Polly sighed.

  Her dad grinned at her as they put on their coats. “She says this every year,” he said. “But come Halloween, she’ll come around.”

  When Polly got home she read the pamphlets about eating disorders that her mother gave her. The more she read the more she was convinced that Mandy was just in the early stages. She needed to talk to her though. What with studying for a couple of tests and doing a big project for Mrs. Specchio she didn’t have much time to work on the mystery or dealing with her friend’s problem. But she tried to watch and listen for clues.

  “Are you dressing up for Halloween?” Polly asked Mandy a week before Halloween.

  The two girls were waiting for the bus across from the school.

  “I hadn’t thought about it,” said Mandy. “No one makes a fuss about Halloween in Europe.”

  “Mom thinks it’s for kids,” Polly said. “I think it’s for all ages. Everyone who works at the mall dresses up and hands out candy. My dad dresses up as a basketball player. It was his dream, but he was too short for an NBA team, and now he’s too old. His birthday’s the day before Halloween. Too bad I couldn’t buy him a ticket to a Raptors game and an air ticket to Toronto.”

  “I’m going to dress as a homeless person,” Mandy muttered, and added under her breath. “That’s who I am anyway. I’m living out of a suitcase with no home.”

  Polly heard her. Until she knew how to help Mandy with her problem she wouldn’t pick up on the remark. She tried to change the subject. “What do you think I should get my dad for his birthday?”

  Darrell and Sydney Dell strolled over and flopped down on the bench with their backpacks full of books.

  “Hi, youngsters.” Sydney twirled his moustache.

  Polly couldn’t figure out whether he sounded cynical or just whiny. She turned back to Mandy and acted as if the boys weren’t there, sticking their big sneakers with loose laces out in front of them. Darrell had a clear complexion, she noticed. Maybe getting his life together and going back to school had helped. She carried on with her one-sided conversation. “My dad likes getting cards and presents. He gets plenty. I’ll have to buy him a funky one.”

  Polly woke up to the fact that she’d been nattering. Mandy was making a pattern with her sneaker toe in the mud by the bus shelter. She bent to study a couple of envelopes that had missed the trash.

  Mr. Dell pulled up in his truck. “Anyone want a lift? I’m heading downtown.” The boys opened the passenger side and climbed in.

  “Can’t leave all you refugees stranded,” laughed Darrell. “Coming?”

  Polly glanced at Mandy. “We better wait for the bus.”

  They watched as the truck drove away.

  She knew Mr. Dell was a good man but lately she’d been extra cautious because her mom kept reminding her of the bad things that could happen. How was a girl supposed to grow up when she had to worry about so many things? The Constrained and Cautious McDoodle sighed as the bus snorted to a stop right in front of her.

  As soon as they sat down Mandy handed Polly a torn white business envelope. “Look what I spotted by the trash barrel. There was a wad of junk mail in the garbage but this was lying on the ground.”

  Polly took the mud-splattered envelope and studied it. The name and address had been ripped off but the postmark read “10.10. SASK.” The return address was covered with black mud. She turned the envelope over. On the back was a shopping list or maybe a “to do” list. It said “Homework” with a line under it, then “10 lottery tickets, Milk, Bread,” another line, and then—“Home Depot – file.”

  “Maybe the Dell boys dropped it,” said Polly.

  “Could you wash it off and see who sent it?” asked Mandy, staring at the muddy return address.

  “I think it’s too dirty, but I can try.”

  Flora and Tommie Lee got on the bus at the next stop. Polly quickly put the envelope under her math book on her lap. She’d have to deal with this later when she and Kyle got together, maybe in the co-op workshop. Kyle was helping Brian with some electrical wiring.

  “I thought I saw your head,” laughed Tommie Lee as she came alongside. She smelled of one of the new popular perfumes. “Can’t miss that red hair.”

  “You’ll have to touch it up, honey, when you get older.” Flora slipped into the double seat across the aisle from Polly and Mandy.

  “There’s a sale at the Body Shop and we want to get some good stuff to send my grandma in Texas,” Tommie Lee said. “It’s her birthday next week. She’s 80. Still dresses elegant.”

  “It’s my dad’s birthday too. He’s 45.”

  “We’re hoping to make the trip come Christmas. Good to see her before it’s too late. Miss Texas something awful.” Flora patted her hair and retied the brilliant scarf around her neck. Her dangling earrings swept the shoulders of her fall camel coat. “It’s so cold here.”

  “Maybe I should buy my dad some new cologne at Body Shop,” said Polly. “For his birthday.”

  Mandy needed a present for walking George while Polly was in Saskatche
wan. She pinched herself to remind herself to buy some fruit soap.

  “How much do you have to spend on him?” Mandy asked.

  Polly blushed. “Well, with the money for watching George in October coming from Isabel before the end of the month, I’ll have quite a bit. But I want to save up for that trip to Italy in the spring, the one the art classes are taking.”

  The bus stopped at the main transfer station and Polly and Mandy said goodbye to the shopping duo. “I’ll check out the prices on cologne if you like,” said Tommie Lee. “I love to shop for bargains.”

  The girls caught the next bus home. Polly sighed as the traffic and repairs on 109th slowed the trip to a snail’s pace. She glanced at Mandy. If the kid got any skinnier they’d “turn her sideways and count her absent” as her dad would say. No wonder Darrell Dell had talked about refugees. Mandy’s parents worked with starving refugees. It wasn’t funny, though? It was sad. In fact it made a person mad. She’d been keeping an eye on Mandy. She played with her food. She didn’t eat snacks. Was she eating enough?

  “Why do you want to be a homeless person for Halloween, Mandy?”

  The girl looked out the window at the passing shops trying to ignore Polly’s question. Her thin fingers laced and unlaced as flexible as shoelaces. Polly watched as she tried to calm her hands down.

  “Do you think if you get thin enough, looking like a refugee, that your folks will come back to Canada? If you look needy enough they’ll pay attention to you?”

  “I need to be thin to be a dancer.” Mandy’s voice was tight as a highwire.

  “You are naturally thin. I’m naturally sturdy, not a dancer, not like my mother or you. I’d like to be thin like a model but it isn’t to be. If Isabel were here she’d tell both of us that we had to learn to accept what we are and be glad of it. If there is something we can change then change it. But don’t waste time. Get on with your life.”