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said. “Now sit down and show respect. And tell that one the same.”
    “You know perfectly well, Kelby, who that one is. Please call Spence by his name.”
    The Chief leered. “Hey, Cello Boy. You want to join the club?”
    “I don’t think so,” Spence said. But he sat down on the mattress beside Zoe.
    “So what’s this about a lion cub in Boomer’s house?” Kelby asked.
    “We think it’s a lion cub, that’s all. It was big. Big and black and gold-striped. It had a face like a lion. Whiskers, green eyes.”
    “You saw this from the backyard? With the shades down?” Kelby smirked and Zoe stuck a tongue in her cheek.
    “Not all the way down,” Spence said. “We could see in when we got close and looked through a rip in the shade. We saw it.” He gave an emphatic nod and folded his arms.
    “Right.” Zoe shot a grateful look at her friend. “Though at first the beast was outlined against the shade, you know, the way the sun was hitting the back of the house? That was really scary.”
    “Sounds fishy to me,” Kelby said. “So what else have you got to report?”
    Zoe thought a moment. She didn’t want to give too much away. “Um, we told you about the guns—it was Spence saw them. And that’s about it, except for the stuff he eats and drinks I already wrote down.” She flushed pink, thinking of the e-mail messages. But she wasn’t going to tell about those.
    The chief looked at Spence with interest. Zoe knew he’d been over to examine the circus train. “You could be a special agent,” he said.
    Spence looked thoughtful. “If I’m a special agent, then I won’t get hit with a green apple?” He still had a bump on his forehead where an apple thrown by Jake had almost knocked him out. “And nobody will hit my train?”
    “Agreed,” said Kelby, and held out his hand.  “Shake.”
    “Wait. Does he get a badge?” Zoe asked.
    “I don’t want a badge,” Spence said. “And I don’t want to come to meetings. I just want to be a Special.”
    Kelby looked dubious, but he held out his hand anyway and Spence shook it.
    “You could come now and then to back me up,” Zoe told Spence as they started up the hill. “I mean, to back up what I say.”
    “Wait a minute,” he said. “I might not always agree with what you say.” As if to underscore his words, Spence veered off toward his own yard.
    “It’s okay,” she called after him. “You don’t have to.” It would be boring, she decided, to have someone who always agreed with you. She was glad that Spence wouldn’t be a full club member. She wouldn’t be either, if she didn’t get promoted.
    Inside the house the red light was blinking on the kitchen phone. She punched it and Ms. Delores’s voice came on, sweet and loud.
    “Zoe—my niece called! I told her about you and she said to bring you to meet her. I’m going over this evening. Would you like to come? My number is 462-2229. Let me know and I ...” The message ran out. Zoe dialed the librarian’s number to say yes, but had to give her message to an answering machine.
    The phone rang again almost immediately and she snatched it up.
    “Hi,” she said, but it wasn’t Ms. Delores. It was Spence and he was breathing hard—he was stammering. “It’s my b-baggage car. My f-favorite new old r-red b-baggage car. It’s gone. Gone! Somebody stole it!”
     

9
     

A MOVING LIGHT IN THE NIGHT
     
    “Have you looked everywhere, Spence?”
    “Dad and me, we…we both looked.” Spence’s voice on the other end of the line sounded like a steam engine. “It was hooked between the water tank car and the bulldozer and now the tank car is hitched to the bulldozer and—” He was talking so fast she could hardly hear the words. “And somebody stole it and in plain sight. I mean, plain sight to whoever stole it, while I was with you at Boomer’s, maybe, watching that lion cub, I mean, that—that c-cat. Who would’ve—?”
    “Slow down.  Was the baggage car there when we