The Great Bike Rescue Read online

  “Don’t worry,” said Emily quickly. “It’s from this morning, and it was right on top of the bin. I don’t give him anything rotten that might make him sick.”

  She headed for the fence corner farthest from the garage. Either the dog knew her footsteps or he smelled what she was holding. He didn’t bark. His nose appeared at one of the gaps.

  Emily broke off a piece of bagel. It disappeared beneath the nose. She looked back at me and nodded.

  Quietly, I walked down the alley. The garage was old, with gaps around the back door. I pressed my face against the wood. It was dark inside, but the smaller side door into the yard was open and letting in sunlight. My eyes slowly adjusted until I could see.

  Handlebars. Wheels. Frames. My heart began to thump like crazy. There weren’t just a couple of bikes inside. There were lots of bikes—all shapes and sizes and makes. I couldn’t believe how many bikes there were!

  And then I really couldn’t believe it. In the rectangle of light splashing in from the side door, I saw the seat of Riley’s bike. I squinted to see the rest of the frame. Yes—Riley’s bike! It was leaning against other bikes, but it wasn’t buried by them.

  Now my heart was really pounding. I didn’t see my own bike, but I didn’t care. Riley was my friend. I had to get his bike!

  I looked for a handle on the garage door. It was snapped off. The garage must only open from the inside. I’d be crazy to open the garage door anyway.

  But the side door was already open. It was inside the yard, but it was right next to the back gate. It would only take a few seconds.

  The house was quiet. The dog was still eating. No one else was in the alley. I might never get another chance.

  I took three soundless steps and was at the gate. I reached carefully over the top, quietly lifted the latch and slowly began to push.

  Bark bark bark bark bark!

  An explosion of teeth, hair and saliva rocketed across the yard and slammed into the gate. I fell backward onto the rocks of the alley. Emily came flying around the corner and crashed into me. On hands and knees, she dragged me to cover beneath the hedge.

  “Are you nuts!” she hissed.

  “Ho…” was all I could manage. The wind was still knocked right out of me.

  Bark bark bark bark!

  The back door of the house opened. Someone stepped out. We heard a sharp whistle. Once. Twice.

  The dog stopped barking, but it was still there on the other side of the fence. I could smell its saliva. Breakfast bagel. Herb and garlic.

  Why was I noticing that now? I had bigger things to worry about. Whoever had come out of the house was still standing on the back step. Through the hedge and the fence I could just make out a craggy face that didn’t look at all friendly.

  Emily and I held our breath. We seemed to wait forever. At long last the man said a single word to the dog. The dog gave a snuffle, trotted back toward the middle of the yard and lay down. The back door closed. Emily and I fled.

  At the far side of the school, I finally stopped to pick the gravel out of my hands.

  “You didn’t tell me the dog was vicious!” I said.

  “He’s not. He just doesn’t know you,” said Emily. “And I told you not to do anything stupid. Even you should know not to mess around with a bunch of serious criminals.”

  “A bunch of criminals?” I couldn’t believe what she was saying. “I thought this was about one guy and some stolen bikes!”

  “It is about bikes,” said Emily. “But he’s got all kinds of people working for him. Who knows what else they get up to?”

  “And you were the one who brought me there in the first place!” I said.

  “I told you to be careful. I thought you’d understand. But the dog’s okay. You saw it. It’s a nice dog,” said Emily. “And they’ve got Riley’s bike for sure, right? You saw his bike?”

  “I saw it,” I said.

  “Okay, there’s something else you need to know,” said Emily. “There’s a black van. It comes by every couple of weeks and hauls the bikes away. Here’s the license number. It might help.”

  She pushed a scrap of paper into my hand. My mind was going a mile a minute.

  “I’ve got to get Dad,” I said. “We need to tell the police.”

  “I know,” she said. “Just two more things. They’re both important—really important.”

  “What?” I said.

  “Make sure you tell them it’s a nice, friendly dog.”

  “Okay,” I said. “The dog is friendly. Gentle. Feed it a bagel and sausages, and it’s the best dog in the whole world. What’s the other thing?”

  “Leave me out of it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  If you go on the Internet, you’ll find all sorts of stories about how police ignore bike theft and how it takes them forever to do anything. That’s not what happened this time.

  Maybe the police really did consider it a crime wave. Maybe they were already aware of the purple house and had been investigating it. Maybe Emily’s information about the van and the police knowing that Riley’s bike was in the garage and that he had proof of ownership were the last tiny bits of real evidence they needed. Or maybe we just lucked out.

  But all in all, things happened pretty quickly. Mind you, the two days we did have to wait practically killed Riley.

  “I should have been there. Super Riley to the rescue! Why didn’t you take me with you?” he asked.

  “I would have taken you if I’d known what was going to happen,” I said. “And I tried to get your bike. I really did.”

  “But what about Emily? What if the crooks in the purple house find out that she’s the one who turned them in? She lives right next door!” said Riley.

  Dad had helped me with that part. He seemed to think “little Emily Grimshaw” needed protecting as much as Emily herself did. Not even the police knew about Emily.

  “And what if they move the bikes out before the police move in? Emily says that’s what they do. She’s watched them do it!” said Riley.

  Emily’s bedroom was on the second floor, looking over the back alley. As for not moving the bikes out, that was something I couldn’t answer. The only thing I knew for sure was that neither Riley nor I was going to get anywhere near the purple house to find out what was happening. The police had warned Dad to keep us away. Dad, Riley’s parents and his older brother were watching us like hawks.

  Then, late on Saturday afternoon, my doorbell started ringing like crazy. It was Riley. He hurried through the door and, as usual these days, brought The Flame right inside with him.

  “There was a flash on the early news. Stolen bikes. Full report at six,” he said. “The Flame and I flew like the wind so we could all watch together. Turn on the TV. Quick.”

  I called up to Dad and switched on the TV.

  “A surprising result today when city police executed a search warrant at a house on Fifty-Eighth Street.”

  “That’s the house!” I said.

  “Several people were taken into custody. Two of them were already known to police as part of an ongoing investigation.”

  One of them was the man with the craggy face who had come out on the back porch. The other was someone Riley and I both recognized.

  “The guy from the gas station!” said Riley.

  Yup, it was AJ, the one person I’d actually trusted. And this time I really did have one of those flash-like memory sequences that the TV cameras show. AJ directing my attention out the window to the alley. And when I turned back, the door of the storeroom now pulled tightly shut. For his part, Riley simply started shouting at the TV set.

  “You said you’d watch out for bike thieves! Liar!”

  “At the rear of the property, police found over forty bicycles that are believed to be stolen. Unofficial sources say bikes were being transported out of the city and sold in smaller communities.”

  The camera switched to a clip of bikes being loaded into a city truck. Riley gave a great whoop.
/>   “There it is!” he shouted. “There’s my bike. That’s it!”

  He was practically bouncing off the roof.

  “Easy, Riley,” said Dad. “It will be awhile before you get it back. They’ll need it for evidence.”

  Riley didn’t care.

  “My bike!” he kept saying. “My bike’s on TV!”

  Again the news clip shifted focus.

  “A dog on the premises was taken by the SPCA.”

  Sometimes when you see a dog in these circumstances, it’s wearing a muzzle and looks unhappy and maybe even mean. That wasn’t the way it was this time. The dog was way too skinny, but it had friendliness written all over it. The man in the SPCA uniform was holding it gently on a regular leash. A police officer, the one we knew from the station, was petting it. The dog’s tail was wagging like crazy.

  “Keep watching, Levi,” said Riley. “Maybe you’ll see your bike too!”

  I didn’t think so. But I hadn’t lost hope. Not yet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I didn’t have to go far to find Emily the next morning. She was sitting on my front step.

  “Dad just got off the phone with the SPCA,” I said as I sat down beside her. “Lots of people saw the dog on TV. It’s going to end up with a good home.”

  For Emily, that’s what it had been about, of course. She didn’t care that much about the stolen bikes. But she did care about the dog. A lot.

  “It’s a nice dog,” she said. “They weren’t feeding it enough. You did a good thing, helping to rescue it.”

  “You could have just phoned the SPCA,” I said. “You could have done it anonymously.”

  Emily shook her head.

  “People like you and your dad are better at that kind of thing,” said Emily. “And the guys in the purple house are not nice people, Levi. This was the best way. For everyone.”

  I looked around me then—really looked. I don’t live in a fancy part of the city, but it’s a friendly street. The biggest problem I’ve ever had in my neighborhood is some annoying little kid stealing a few toys.

  Okay, maybe she wasn’t quite as annoying as I remembered. Maybe Dad was even right about her life being complicated. But she wasn’t an innocent angel either. She was clever. And if sneaky wasn’t exactly the right word, there were definitely a lot of unusual layers to her personality. Even now, while her eyes looked steadily at me, a tiny shifting muscle at the side of her mouth hinted that she was thinking far more than she was saying out loud.

  “You’ve got a yard,” she said. “You could use a dog.”

  “If I had a dog, you’d probably steal it,” I said.

  “I don’t steal,” said Emily. “I borrow sometimes. There can be really important reasons why a person might need to borrow something.”

  Her voice was matter-of-fact, but again the little muscle shifted. Now I knew for sure. Maybe she hadn’t planned it all out—how could you plan the crazy way things had happened? But Emily had known that if my bike went missing, I’d be interested in the purple house in a way that just might help her out. Except there was one part she couldn’t have planned.

  “You were lucky they took Riley’s bike,” I said. “And lucky he could prove he owned it.”

  Emily pulled her knees up close against her T-shirt.

  “That was way too scary,” she said. “I kept having to sneak over every day to check the garage. I knew it would work out great once Riley’s bike got to the purple house. But it wasn’t there and wasn’t there…”

  “AJ had it stashed at the gas station. He practically gave himself away, but I was too slow to catch on,” I said. I frowned, seeing yet another angle I hadn’t seen before. “Do you think he would have turned it in for the reward, not taking it to the purple house, if he’d seen Riley’s posters?”

  “Who knows? The posters magically disappeared,” said Emily. “And hey—it all turned out in the end. Dog’s happy. I’m happy. Riley’s going to get his bike back. Everybody wins!”

  There was now an expectant look in her eyes. She was waiting for my reaction.

  I knew I had to be careful. I’ve already mentioned how steamed I used to get when I was little and Emily stole my things. I think that’s one of the reasons she kept stealing from me. She liked to see how mad she could make me. And frankly, from the way she was looking at me now, I didn’t think that part of her had changed. Above all else, I had to stay cool.

  “Not quite everybody,” I said. “I’m still missing a couple of things.”

  Emily looked puzzled.

  “A couple of things?” she asked.

  “Yup. My bike. And my toboggan.”

  Emily groaned. She picked up some pebbles from beside the step and tossed one of them at an imaginary target on the sidewalk.

  “Your toboggan is ancient history, Levi,” she said.

  “But you remember it, don’t you?” I asked.

  She sighed.

  “I remember you had a beat-up old toboggan that was falling apart.” She tossed another pebble. “Accidents happen, Levi. People don’t always have the money to fix things when they break. By accident. And when the things are falling apart to begin with.”

  I filled in the blanks. Emily Grimshaw had stolen my toboggan and broken it. Her mom hadn’t had the money to pay for it. I should have been angry, but instead all I had was a feeling of relief. I hadn’t imagined it all. I hadn’t been doing something horrible by knocking on her door and asking for it back. And if her mom slammed the door…well, Dad had used the word complicated. I had enough trouble figuring out my own life without figuring out Emily’s. Besides, I would have outgrown that old toboggan by now. My bike was another story.

  “I’ve been thinking about my bike,” I said. “I think someone just took it for a ride and left it. But I’ve run out of places to look.”

  “Did you look in the park behind the swimming pool?” asked Emily.

  “Yup,” I said. “I looked there.”

  “Did you talk to the garbage crew around your place?” she asked. “They cover a lot of ground.”

  “Yup,” I said. “I talked to them.”

  “Hmmmm,” said Emily. “What about a little farther away? Did you look in the ravine? There’s some tall grass around the old bridge. That would be a good place to hide a bike.”

  It wasn’t just a good place to hide a bike—it was a perfect place. The expression on Emily’s face was calm. Not even the little muscle at the side of her mouth gave her away. But this had to be it. I tried to keep my voice as even as hers.

  “Maybe I’ll look there,” I said. “It’s worth a try.”

  “And maybe I’ll move back here one day. We can be neighbors again,” said Emily. She stood up. “See you around!”

  Dad was busy working upstairs. I left him a note and headed to Riley’s house. The adventure had started with both of us, and I figured that was the best way for it to end.

  Riley was out on The Flame, doing an errand for his mom. She said he’d be back soon. I waited for him out front, on the sidewalk.

  The minute Riley spotted me, even before I gave him the details, he was excited. It was the kind of excitement that effortlessly carried us, him riding and me jogging beside The Flame, all the way to the ravine.

  Well hidden in the grass by the old bridge was a black and silver bike.

  “Teeth marks on the handle grips?” asked Riley.

  “Check,” I said.

  “Scratches on the frame?” asked Riley.

  “Check,” I said.

  “A bent reflector?” asked Riley.

  “Check,” I said.

  There was only one problem. It was firmly fastened, with my own cable and lock, to one of the bridge abutments. I didn’t have an extra key. Not that it changed how happy I was. My bike! I’d found my bike!

  “You wait here while I go for help,” said Riley. “Should I get Sammy the bike thief? Or should I get your dad the bike thief?”

  “We’ll need Sammy,” I said. “D
ad’s only good on the old-school kind of locks.”

  “Well, in that case,” said Riley, “I guess I’ll make it easy.”

  He reached into his pocket and took out a small silver key.

  “My key? Riley! How long have you had it?”

  He checked his watch.

  “Thirty-seven minutes,” he answered. “Emily waved me down at my corner, just before I turned and saw you waiting. It was killing me not to tell you. But she said if something really strange had happened and your bike wasn’t actually there, it would drive you crazy to have the key and not the bike.”

  “Emily Grimshaw’s the one who drives me crazy,” I said.

  “I kind of like her,” said Riley. “Come on, will you? Unlock your bike!”

  “Maybe it’s not the right key,” I said. “Maybe it’s another stupid Emily Grimshaw trick.”

  “Levi—try it! We’ve got jumps that haven’t been jumped yet. Trails that haven’t been ridden. Rescues that haven’t been made. The Flame is working out better than I thought, so now you’re the only thing that’s holding back Super Riley!”

  I put the key in the lock. I gave it a half-twist.

  “Hurrah!” cried Riley as the lock clicked open.

  And together, on our bikes, we headed for adventure.

  With a long list of publishing credits, Hazel Hutchins writes novels and picturebooks that reveal thoughtful twists on everyday life. The plots play out with humor, warmth and the strength of a good story well told. Awards include the Shining Willow Young Readers’ Choice Award, the Marilyn Baille Picture Book Award and the R. Ross Annette Award for Children’s Literature. Her books are found on reading lists, in journal reviews and in translation in interesting corners of the world. A popular presenter at schools and libraries across Canada, Hazel lives in the Rocky Mountain town of Canmore, Alberta.