The Stolen Bones by Carolyn Keene


  I ran my hand over a section. “How do you tell? The whole thing feels like solid stone.”

  “Well, that’s basically what a fossil is. Minerals seep into the bones and turn them to stone. But it’s different from the surrounding area, so the rock will tend to come away.”

  I picked up a hammer and chisel. “So pound away until I find bone?”

  “Right. We’re not trying to get the bones out individually, of course. We just want to get as much rock as possible off of the top before we jacket it.”

  “Why? Wouldn’t it be safer to just plaster the whole thing?”

  “Safer, maybe, but not easier,” Tom said. “Most of these jackets weigh between fifty and two hundred pounds, and big ones will weigh more. Extra rock means extra weight.”

  I gaped at him. “But we’re a mile from the cars!”

  “Yup. It’s the fun part.” He grinned at me. “We put the heaviest jackets on a big rescue sled and drag it. But believe me, that’s no walk in the park, especially with uneven ground. And smaller fossils just go into our backpacks. Excavating is the easy part.”

  “I guess I’d better get busy, then.” I picked up a chisel and started tapping at the rock. At first I tried to be delicate, but nothing happened. I had to tap hard to break up the rock at all.

  Tom worked quickly and confidently, brushing away loose rock chips with a wide paintbrush. I thought about what he’d said. Stealing fossils wasn’t like stealing jewelry. You had to know what you were doing to identify and retrieve valuable fossils. That meant the thief was an expert in the field.

  Could the thief even be a paleontologist? Paleontology was a lot of work, and probably didn’t pay well. “What’s it like being a paleontologist?” I asked Tom.

  “It’s the best job in the world,” he said. “At least, if you can get a job.”

  “Is it hard to find a job as a paleontologist?”

  He sat back and wiped his face with a bandanna. “There aren’t a lot of jobs. Take the museum here. Most of the staff is young, and far from retirement. And if a position does open up, you can bet that Kyle will make sure Steffi gets it.”

  His gaze settled on Steffi. She was dipping strips of burlap into the thick white plaster and laying them over the corner of the damaged rock. I couldn’t read Tom’s expression.

  He went on. “But one major find can make you famous. Then you’re in National Geographic, lecturing at museums around the world, in demand everywhere.”

  I studied him. He wasn’t bad-looking, but his mouth turned down at the edges, and he was already getting frown lines between his eyebrows. “Is that what you want? Fame?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “So how do you get there?”

  He sighed. “My best hope is to find something that will make for a great graduate project and get me some attention. That can lead to future funding.”

  He lapsed into silence, and I studied him surreptitiously as we worked. Could Tom have a motive? Maybe he wanted to steal the fossil so he could claim he found it somewhere else and get the recognition he seems to want so badly. Could I be working side by side with a thief?

  5

  More Mysteries

  I had a hard time concentrating on the fossil, with all the questions in my head. Plus, it kept getting hotter. But I didn’t want to damage the bone by being careless. I was trying to help Kyle, not cause more problems.

  Conversation died off across the site. All I could hear was the clink of tools, the buzzing of insects, and the shuffling sounds of people changing their positions. The sun beat down on us, and I wiped my face on my sleeve.

  “All right, gang,” Kyle called out. “Lunchtime!”

  Cheers erupted in the hollow. We got to our feet and stretched. George looked at her watch and said, “Ninety-two degrees.”

  I joined Bess, who was wiping wet plaster off her hands. “Do you feel up to using your natural charm?” I whispered.

  She grinned. “Always.”

  “Walk with Tom,” I said. “It sounds like he’s jealous of Steffi, and Kyle is on Steffi’s side. I’d like to know if there’s anything there, but he might get suspicious if I keep asking questions.”

  She saluted. “Agent Bess is on the case.”

  I dropped back behind the group as we walked, pondering other suspects. What about Jimmy and his mother? Had our meeting last night given them the idea of stealing fossils? Or had they already been at work?

  Steffi was a mystery all by herself. She was smart and strong and tough. My instinct was to like her. But what about the confusion last night? Why had she pitched her tent so far from everyone else? And why would she be having secret conversations with Jimmy, if that was the case? She must have been surprised when he appeared last night, or she wouldn’t have screamed. But then she acted like nothing had happened.

  I didn’t know much about the other people in the group. I’d have to fix that. And of course, it might not be anyone in the group at all. But with fossils missing from the Land Rover as well as the dig site, a passing stranger seemed unlikely. Only someone close by would know where to find everything.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it.

  When I looked around, I realized I had no idea where I was.

  George said, “Um, Nancy, I think we’re supposed to go this way.”

  “Huh? Oh, right.” It’s a good thing I have my friends to keep me on track while I’m distracted by a mystery. Otherwise I might wind up lost in the desert!

  Back at camp Felix greeted us with a smile and a cooler filled with cold drinks. The icy lemon-lime soda coursed down my throat and knocked all other thoughts from my head.

  I drank about half the can, then looked at Bess and smiled. “Some morning, huh?”

  She nodded and took another sip of her soda. Even in the shade of her sun hat, her cheeks looked pink. Damp tendrils of hair curled around her ears. “It was fun.”

  George bounded over to us, full of energy as usual. “Learn anything?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  I shook my head. “Lots of questions, but no answers.”

  Bess leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I think you’re right about Tom, Kyle, and Steffi. I don’t think it’s a love triangle. More like professional jealousy. That guy sure knows how to complain.”

  “I’ll tackle him again this afternoon,” I said. “But first let’s get some lunch!”

  Felix had sandwiches ready to go, piled high with meat, cheese, and vegetables. “Are you sure you don’t want one?” he asked Abby. “I have a vegetarian.” It looked delicious, with roasted red peppers and sprouts spilling out the sides.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Thank you, but I’ll stick with my herbed soybeans and millet.”

  Grayson picked up a sandwich stuffed with roast beef. “Ah, here’s one just the way I like it—plenty of cow!

  Abby stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed.

  We got our sandwiches and looked around for shade. Tom and Russell sat under a blue tarp stretched between two trucks, talking seriously. I caught a few words, and it sounded like a foreign language. Dinosaur names, I guessed. Abby perched nearby, eating delicately like a cat. Grayson slumped against a tree, looking wilted. Steffi headed toward her tent. Felix sat by his sandwiches, ready to offer more.

  Kyle looked tired, with his shoulders drooping, but he smiled and came over to us. “We usually take a couple of hours’ break now. We try to head back to the dig around three o’clock. That way we avoid the worst of the heat, but still get in several more hours of work.”

  “Why do you do the dig when it’s so hot, anyway?” George asked. “Why not wait until cooler weather?”

  “A lot of our volunteers are students or teachers, so we wait for summer break.”

  We lapsed into silence as we finished our sandwiches. The air shimmered with heat. I felt like I was melting, and my eyes wanted to close. Soon people headed to their tents. I hesitated, feeling like I should be doing some detective work. But for
the moment everyone was safely tucked away. I decided to lie down for a few minutes and then come out to keep an eye on things.

  Bess and George followed me back to the tent. I crouched and unzipped the flap. Under the noise of the zipper I heard a strange sound. I paused a moment, trying to identify it. A dry rattle, like seeds in a gourd. Where was it coming from?

  I shrugged and finished unzipping the tent. As the flap fell open, the sound got louder.

  Zhhh-zhh-zhhh!

  It was coming from inside the tent!

  I looked in. I saw a raised head, coiled body, and shaking tail.

  I was staring at a rattlesnake.

  6

  Rattled

  My breath stopped while my heart raced. I couldn’t move, even though I felt the adrenaline surging through my bent legs.

  Behind me Bess stepped closer. “What’s that noise?”

  “Get back!” I croaked. I sensed rather than saw George grab Bess and the two of them carefully retreat.

  The rattler had to be at least three feet long, and two inches thick. It lay smack on the middle sleeping bag, coiled up, with its head and tail raised. I stared into its unblinking eyes. Its tongue flicked in and out. Every few seconds it paused in its rattling, then started up again, the tail tip a blur.

  Chills ran up and down my spine and sweat poured down my face. I took a shallow breath and reached one hand behind me. Slowly I shifted back until I was sitting on the ground. I inched my way back, making no sudden movements, though my pounding heart was telling me to leap up and run.

  The rattler shifted and slithered a little closer. It was all I could do not to scream.

  George stepped around the tent with a stick in her hands. She poked the back of the tent, rustling the fabric.

  The snake turned and lashed out at the movement. I rolled backward, leaped to my feet, and took two more big steps back. Bess put her arms around me. I leaned against her, shaking, with my legs like rubber.

  I took deep breaths, trying to calm down. George came around to join us, her face pale and glistening with sweat. I slowly turned my head back toward the tent. I had to force myself to look at the snake again. I imagined it lunging at me, then pushed the thought away.

  I cleared my throat. “Suggestions?” My voice sounded funny.

  We all stared at the snake. George said without enthusiasm, “On the wildlife TV shows sometimes they use a forked stick …”

  “I’m not going near that thing,” Bess said firmly. “We get Kyle. He’s in charge; he can deal with the snake.”

  Felix was tidying up his cooking gear, so we asked him which one was Kyle’s tent. The flap was open, and when we called his name, Kyle sat up yawning. “Do you need something?

  “Advice,” George said. “How do you get a rattlesnake out of a tent?”

  Kyle frowned as if pondering a riddle. “How do you—” His eyes popped open. “What? Do you mean—are you serious?”

  I managed a smile. “Sorry to disturb you, but we could use some help.”

  “Yes, sure.” He crawled out and stood up. “You’re sure it’s a rattler?”

  “Well, it was rattling,” I said. Just the memory of the sound made me shiver.

  Kyle nodded. “We’d better get Tom.” He collected Tom and they borrowed one of the giant plastic tubs Felix used for food storage. Back at our tent, they peered inside.

  “Boy, that’s a rattler all right,” Kyle said. “A big one too.”

  “It’s a beauty,” Tom said.

  George whispered, “A beauty?” and rolled her eyes.

  “Well, thank goodness it wasn’t an ugly one,” I muttered.

  Tom put the tub on its side against the tent entrance. “Rattlers like dark, enclosed spaces. If we annoy it, it will go into the tub for safety.”

  Kyle peered through a side vent to keep an eye on the snake. Tom went to the back of the tent and pounded his hands against the nylon.

  “Nothing yet,” Kyle said. “He’s just hunkered down.”

  Tom grabbed the tent poles and started shaking the tent.

  “Why don’t you just dump the tent out?” George asked.

  “We don’t want your gear to go into the tub with the snake,” Tom answered.

  “Good plan,” Bess whispered.

  Tom shook the tent and stomped his feet for a couple of minutes. Finally Kyle called out, “He’s moving! He’s heading for the tub. … Just another foot … He’s in!”

  Kyle and Tom rushed around the sides of the tent and flipped up the tub. They peered inside. “Boy, it’s not happy,” Tom said. We could hear it moving and rattling, but didn’t get close enough to watch.

  “Let’s put him in the Land Rover, and I’ll drive him a couple miles away,” Kyle said. He picked up one end of the tub and Tom grabbed the other. “Sorry about this,” Kyle added. “We’ve never had a snake in camp before.”

  “It was probably just looking for shade,” Tom added. “Make sure you keep your tent flap zipped when you’re gone. That should prevent any more nasty surprises.” They headed off to the Land Rover.

  I looked at my friends. “Does anyone think that snake got in there by itself?”

  Bess shook her head. George said, “No way. That tent flap was zipped.” She tipped her head to one side. “Tom sure was good with the snake. You could tell he’d handled them before.”

  “He knew what he was doing, all right,” I said. “But would he let us see his expertise if he was responsible?”

  “He couldn’t refuse when Kyle asked him to help,” Bess pointed out. “That would have made Kyle suspicious. Kyle didn’t seem fazed by the snake either. Maybe they find snakes all the time on these digs.” She shuddered.

  I frowned. “Tom was at the dig all morning.”

  “He might have slipped away for a few minutes during lunch,” George suggested. “And don’t forget about Jimmy. He had all morning to prowl around here, and if he lives out here, he’s probably used to snakes and knows where to find them.”

  “Other people here might be good with snakes too.” I sighed. “We have a lot of work to do. But I have to lie down for a few minutes. I still feel all jittery.”

  “Me too.” Bess glared into the tent. “I’m trying to forget that the snake was on my sleeping bag.”

  “You know, maybe we should check the insides of our bags, just to be safe,” George said. Bess moaned. We picked up our sleeping bags, held them at arm’s length, and shook them out. Then just to be sure, we felt them from bottom to top, checking for lumps.

  Finally we all settled down. George adjusted the tent flaps for maximum airflow. I lay back and took deep breaths to relax my jangled nerves. “Don’t let me fall asleep,” I said.

  George yawned. “No way.”

  “How could we sleep after that?” Bess mumbled.

  All right, I guess I slept. That’s the only way I can explain the dream. Cartoon dinosaurs hid behind our tent, asking for help. Tom turned into a snake and hissed at me. I awoke with a gasp.

  “What?” George mumbled. She sat up, yawning and blinking. “Shoot,” she said. “I should’ve set an alarm.”

  Bess sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I needed that.”

  I guess I did too. Oh well, a long afternoon nap meant it would be easier to stay awake at night. That’s probably when anything would happen.

  We joined the others and hiked back to the dig site. It still felt hot, but at least the sun was at an angle so you could find shade.

  As we neared the site, I heard a strange noise. A kind of chugging rumble. At first I thought it was thunder, but it was too long and steady. “Hear that?” I asked.

  George frowned. “Some kind of car?”

  Bess had the answer, of course. “Sounds like an ATV—an all-terrain vehicle.”

  “You mean we have visitors out here?”

  Kyle picked up speed. George, Bess, and I hurried after him.

  As we broke out into the hollow, I saw the ATV parked up on the cliff ahead. Then I sa
w the two men standing over the rock that had been damaged.

  Kyle charged toward them like a bull. “What are you doing?” he bellowed.

  7

  Twin Troublemakers

  The men looked up with friendly smiles and stepped toward us. They must have been around twenty. Both had blond hair and strangely light gray eyes. They were tall, lean, and good-looking. It took me a minute to decide that they weren’t actually twins, although they had to be brothers. One was a bit taller and broader, with an air of leadership, so I guessed he was older.

  Something struck me as familiar about them, but I knew I’d never seen them before. Maybe it was just seeing the two of them, so much alike, that gave that sense of déjà vu.

  The first one said, “Hi! I hope we’re not disturbing anything. We were just looking around.”

  “How did you find us?” Kyle demanded.

  The guy kept his friendly grin. “We didn’t. You found us. We wondered where the people were.”

  “I mean how did you find this site?”

  He gestured toward the ATV. “We were just tooling around in our little buggy and saw this stuff. We wondered what you could possibly be doing, out here in the middle of the desert.”

  Kyle crossed his arms. “That’s my question exactly. You know this is federal land.”

  The stranger kept smiling. “Yes, and I know it’s legal for me to be here. This area isn’t restricted.”

  “It may be legal,” Kyle admitted, “but it’s still a bad idea. Off-road vehicles cause erosion, damage the vegetation, and disturb the wildlife.”

  The guy shrugged. “You’re entitled to your opinion too.”

  The younger brother hadn’t spoken yet. He just watched everything with those pale eyes. The rest of the volunteers had gathered around us and were listening to the exchange. Bess sauntered toward the ATV. She stood at the base of the cliff and looked up at it.

 
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