What is going on at Mr. Wolfe's creepy house? What is he doing in his basement when everyone else is asleep? Why is he so friendly with Frankie, the surly handyman, and is that a body they are sneaking out late one night?
In her newest mystery, Bonnie Pryor introduces a sleuth sure to delight her fans, as each twist and turn of Marvin's investigation leads to a thrilling climax and the unmasking of the mysterious Mr. Wolfe.
|Product dimensions:||5.25(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.36(d)|
Read an Excerpt
Do Detectives Go Grocery Shopping?
"I hate going shopping," Marvin groaned.
"You like to eat, don't you?" Mrs. Fremont asked cheerfully as she pulled the car into a parking place outside McNaulty's grocery store. There was a newer grocery store at the mall on the other side of Liberty Corners, but Mrs. Fremont preferred to go to a little shopping center not far from their house.
"Just because we like to eat doesn't mean we want to spend every Saturday morning in the grocery store." For once Marvin's twin sister, Sarah, was on his side. "'We are probably the only kids in the whole world who have never seen Saturday morning cartoons."
I rather doubt that." Their mother chuckled as she pointed to the crowded neighborhood store. "Saturday morning is the only time a lot of people can shop."
Mrs. Fremont worked all week at an insurance company, and Mr. Fremont's job at the bank required him to work Saturday mornings. The twins felt they were old enough to be left alone for more than a short time, but their mother disagreed. After school they stayed by themselves for the hour before she arrived home, but every Saturday morning she insisted they come with her. Sarah rolled her eyes at Marvin, but both of them knew it was useless to argue further until the next week, at any rate.
Just as Mrs. Fremont was switching off the ignition, a shiny red sports car pulled into the next space. One of their neighbors, a friendly woman named Mrs. Hanson, opened the car door, pausing to pat her springy gray curls back into place.
"How do you like my new car?" she asked when she noticed the Fremontsstaring.
"It's great," Marvin exclaimed.
"I always wanted one like this. Couldn't afford it when the kids were home." Mrs. Hanson patted a red fender. "It's my baby."
"I think it's wonderful," Mrs. Fremont said with a wistful look at her own sedate station wagon. Marvin wondered whether his mother would drive a red sports car when he was grown.
Sarah was walking around admiring the car. "Oh, jeepers, here's a little dent," she called from the passenger side. "Did somebody bump you?"
Mrs. Hanson looked sheepish. "No, I did it myself. Wouldn't you think it would be easy to park a little car like this without hitting something? But the garage has ordered a new bumper. In a couple of weeks it will be as good as new."
Inside McNaulty's, Mrs. Hanson pulled a cart from the line at the door and with a wave buzzed away. Mrs. Fremont took a cart for herself and started more slowly down the first aisle. The twins reluctantly followed.
Sarah went back to grumbling. "Grocery stores are so boring."
Mrs. Fremont examined a bag of yellow apples, looking for bruises. "It's good experience for you," she said in exasperation. "When you grow up, you will thank me for teaching you how to be a careful shopper."
"When I grow up, I'm never going to make my children spend Saturday morning in a grocery store," Sarah said.
"I'm never even going to the grocery store," Marvin told his mother. "I will be too busy catching criminals and bringing them to justice."
Sarah snorted. "That's what you want to do this week? Last week you wanted to investigate UFO sightings. You are so weird." In spite of her words, she smiled at her brother. For all their differences they really got along very well.
People meeting Marvin and Sarah for the first time were always amazed that they were twins. In the first place, they didn't even look alike. Marvin was small for his age. He was quiet and could most often be found with his nose in a comic book. He wore glasses, which made him look more serious than he really was. Sarah was taller, although her hair was the same straight dark brown as Marvin's. She was usually busy with some project or other. Her latest interest was photography. She seldom went anywhere without her camera and was always studying ways to make better pictures.
"Even criminals have to eat," remarked Mrs. Fremont. "Maybe right this very minute there is a dastardly crook lurking about the tomatoes."
"Oh. Mom." Marvin sighed, knowing she was teasing. Just the same, he glanced quickly about. The only person at the tomato counter was old Mrs. Parson, who lived down the street no mystery there. But farther down the aisle was the last person Marvin wanted to meet on a Saturday morning, or any other morning, for that matter.