 
### Serina K. and the Case of the Missing Recipe

Copyright 2015 Brad G. Moore

Published by Brad G. Moore at Smashwords

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Table of Contents

Chapter One: Suzy and the Mailman

Chapter Two: Lady Sara, Queen of the Cat Kingdom

Chapter Three: The Bribe

Chapter Four: Words of Wisdom

Chapter Five: The Break-In

Chapter Six: Serina K. Takes the Case

Chapter Seven: Traffic Jam

Chapter Eight: Special Delivery

Chapter Nine: End of an Era

Chapter Ten: The Figure in the Window

Chapter Eleven: Identity Crisis

Chapter Twelve: Mrs. Barnes to the Rescue

Chapter Thirteen: Saving Sara

Chapter Fourteen: Bradford's Most Wanted

Chapter Fifteen: Pay Dirt

Chapter Sixteen: Doodle Soup Days

Chapter Seventeen: Case Closed

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Chapter One: Suzy and the Mailman

"Suzy!" I heard my dad yell outside my bedroom window. I was used to confrontations between my dad and Suzy as Suzy inadvertently creates some form of commotion several times a day. Although my dad claims that Suzy is a mutt, he is actually a Cocker Spaniel mixture. He might have some mutt in him, but he is mostly a Cocker Spaniel. Suzy was given to me by my cousin, Ben, when I was in the second grade and has been my loyal friend ever since.

Suzy was the lone male to a litter of five female siblings. Ben was left with one female and one male after the remaining puppies were given away to good homes. Since Ben's mom was a fan of some guy named Elvis Presley, the male was named Elvis. Ben named the remaining female Suzy after his favorite snack, Suzy Q.

After Elvis was finally given to a good home, Ben's family was left with the female puppy, Suzy. Ben and his family taught Suzy her name and how to shake hands. Suzy was a very smart puppy, yet much more mischievous than normal puppies. Ben's mom couldn't figure out why Suzy was so mischievous. When Ben's parents took Suzy to the veterinarian to get her shots, the veterinarian informed them that Suzy's actions were quite normal. They were normal for a young, male puppy, that is. Ben's family had given the wrong puppy away. I hope the family that thought they were taking Elvis home discovered the truth before Ben's family did and were able to give the pup a girl's name. I would hate to be a girl stuck with a name like Elvis.

My name is Serina K. My full name is Serina Kay Moore, but I usually just go by Serina K. because there is another girl named Serina in my fourth grade math class at Andrew Jackson Elementary School. I don't mind it so much. I'm used to hearing my dad yell "Serina Kay!" whenever he discovers one of my scientific experiments in the kitchen or bathroom. I've heard it so often that I've thought about officially changing my name to Serina K.

My dad said that if I wanted to be known as Serina K. when I got older that I would have to go to court to legally change my name. I always thought that people only go to court when they are in trouble. So far, I haven't gotten into trouble by signing Serina K. on my homework and I haven't had to go to court yet. I heard somewhere that people get something called a subpoena when they have to go to court, but I haven't gotten one of those yet either.

For the past year, I have been saving my allowance to buy a Ph.D. from Wal-Mart. My dad said that I would need a Ph.D. to achieve all of the goals I have set for myself when I grow up. While most of my friends want to be doctors, nurses, and teachers when they grow up, I simply want to be a chef, scientist, and a veterinarian. The whole Ph.D. thing has got me confused though. I learned how to be fiscally responsible last year when I needed to raise money to go to the carnival last year and I am sure that I can afford it, but I'm not sure why I need it. I've already started my scientific career by creating hundreds of experiments with soap, perfume, and shampoo. My friend, Autumn, and I even began an archaeological expedition last summer in my back yard with my metal detector.

I worked at the veterinarian's clinic last summer and was able to save some money to go toward my Ph.D. I usually helped the groomer wash the animals before he cut and styled their hair in nice, pretty bows. I tried not to be around when the animal doctor was caring for sick animals. I always cried whenever I heard an animal whine because of the huge needle the vet was poking them with. The experience has made me rethink my desire to become a veterinarian.

If I decide not to become a veterinarian, maybe I can get a Ph.D. from Wal-Mart at a lower price. Hopefully, I can get my Ph.D. even cheaper if I can go to work in their bakery after becoming a professional chef. I've been watching Emeril and Paula Dean and have had some experience using my chocolate factory kit. I've also made my dad several TV dinners. With all of my experiences, I may not even need a Ph.D.

"The mailman's going to quit delivering our mail if Suzy keeps on chasing him," Dad

said after I went downstairs to see what all the fuss was about.

"I don't know what's got into him lately," I replied. "He never used to act this way with Mr. Kelly.

"That's because Mr. Kelly bribed him," Dad snapped back as he picked up the crinkled letters the mailman had threw in the yard as he raced to get away from Suzy. Mr. Kelly used to be our mailman, but retired last month. He used to bring Suzy a dog biscuit every day when he dropped off our mail.

"Suzy probably just thinks that the new mailman forgot his treat and he's just trying to catch up with him," I answered back.

"Whatever the reason is, you need to make sure that he stops it. The mailman said that if Suzy keeps it up, we'll have to go to court to start receiving our mail again."

Court? That's the last place I want to go. They might find out that I've been signing my name as Serina K. on my homework and give me a subpoena. I need to figure out why Suzy doesn't like our new mailman. If I can't figure out why Suzy doesn't like the new mailman, maybe I can figure out a way to make him like him.

Chapter Two: Lady Sara, Queen of the Cat Kingdom

I decided to call my cousin, Sara, to see if she could help figure out a way to make Suzy like the mailman. Sara is in my homeroom class, but is actually a year younger than me. She moved to Bradford from Alabama last year when her dad accepted the head basketball coach position at the high school. The position came open when the former coach, Coach Doyle, left to help his wife start their new soup company. Mrs. Doyle made the best Doodle Soup in the whole world. She had won first place at the Bradford Doodle Soup Festival for the past nine years.

Unfortunately, when the Doyles moved to become rich and famous, their daughter, Autumn, had to move with them. Autumn was my best friend. Autumn and I had many adventures together, including starting our own snow cone making company that helped me raise money to go to the Paris Fish Fry last year. Dad says that our exploits are legendary. Legendary or not, I really miss her.

Although we are cousins, Sara and I have become best friends since she moved to Bradford. Sara is different to say the least. While I want to become a chef, scientist, and a veterinarian, she simply wants to become a cat. The first time she told me that she wanted to become a cat, I chuckled and asked her why. "Because cats have nine lives," she calmly replied.

I still don't know whether to take her seriously or not. One thing is for sure, though, Sara loves cats. She has eight cats of her own. Their names are Happy, Dopey, Sleepy, Grumpy, Prancer, Comet, Cupid, and Blitzen. If the names sound familiar, it's because she named them after her favorite movie, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and Santa's reindeer.

I'm not sure what her fascination with cats is all about. Before Suzy came along, I used to have a cat named Kitty. Her real name was Precious, but it would only come to me when I hollered, "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty." Kitty and I never clicked together the way that Suzy and I have. I always thought it was because she was so selfish. I thought Kitty really liked me at one time. I remember once when she jumped in my lap, began purring really loud, and began rubbing her face against mine in a show affection. I thought it was affection anyway. After I fed her a can of food, she began slowly walking back to the bedroom. I called her to see if she wanted to sit in my lap where I could pet her and rock her to sleep. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, turned to look at me, then turned back around and kept walking to the bedroom where she promptly made herself comfortable in the middle of my dad's bed. Maybe it's just me, but I thought that was just plain rude.

Eventually, we gave Kitty to a neighbor that I affectionately called Aunt Sue because she often gave me a ride to and from school when I was running late. She even invited Autumn and I over for cookies several times. Aunt Sue's children had all graduated and she thought Kitty would make a nice companion in their absence. Whenever I go over Aunt Sue's house, I usually see Kitty snuggled up in the middle of the recliner sound asleep. I'm not sure how the selfish cat makes such a great companion, but Aunt Sue said Kitty reminds her of her late husband.

I explained my dilemma to Sara and she told me to come over her house and she would help me think of a solution to my troubles with the mailman. Despite Sara's goofiness, she is one of the smartest people that I know. Recently, she won first place in a spelling bee that included students from first through fifth grade. In a few weeks, she will be representing Andrew Jackson Elementary School against students from neighboring towns in the county-wide spelling bee at the Doodle Soup Festival.

Sara answered the door wearing a purple cape, a crown that looked like the ones that are given to contestants in a beauty pageant, and her Kozmic Kitty costume that she wore last Halloween when we went Trick-or Treating.

"What's with the costume?" I asked.

"I am Lady Sara, Queen of the Cat Kingdom," she proclaimed.

"It's a good thing that I didn't bring Suzy along. He might not recognize you in that get- up," I teased.

"I'd hate to have to use my super cat claws on him," Sara hissed as she swung her hand in the air like a tiger tearing into its prey.

"I'd hate that too," I said. "In the meantime, have you got any ideas on how I can make peace between Suzy and the mailman?"

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I'm starving. "Let's go inside and fix something to eat. We can talk it about it over lunch."

We went inside to Sara's lair. Although her house was nice, the sight of cats everywhere made me nervous. There was a big, furry monster in the window sill, a calico colored kitty on top of the TV, a Siamese cat asleep on the headrest of the couch, and a solid black creature rubbing against the bottom of my leg. Normally, Sara's parents do not let her keep the cats inside of the house, but Sara's parents were both out. Sara had let them in while she pretended to rule over the cat kingdom.

Sara removed the bread from the kitchen cupboard and began preparing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for us both. After spreading the peanut butter on the bread, she proceeded to insert the peanut butter infested knife into the jar of grape jelly.

"Are you not going to clean the knife off before you put it into the jelly," I asked.

"Why?"

"Because you'll get peanut butter inside the jar of jelly. You'll make a mess," I replied sounding like my dad.

"It's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They're supposed to go together," she said as she spread the jelly across the bread already covered with peanut butter.

Sara held the knife up before dipping it back into the jelly for another sandwich. The edgeless knife was now covered in a mixture of peanut butter and grape jelly.

"Peanut butter and jelly aren't meant to be separated. They stick together like glue," she explained. "Pretty soon, I'll have enough peanut butter in the jar of jelly that I won't even need to use the jar of peanut butter when I make a sandwich."

"You can buy it already mixed together. I think I saw a jar of it at the grocery store. Why don't you just get a jar of it to save you the trouble of having two separate jars?" I asked.

"They don't use the right kind of jelly in those jars. This is Grandma Becky's homemade jelly. It's the best jelly in the world. I won't use anything else in my sandwiches."

She was right. Grandma Becky definitely makes the best jelly in the world. If she would mix it with peanut butter like those other brands, she could sell it at Wal-Mart and become rich.

Chapter Three: The Bribe

Sara's sandwiches hit the spot. She has potential to become a famous chef herself. The combination of peanut butter and Grandma Becky's jelly into a single jar was downright genius. She was also right about peanut butter and jelly sticking together like glue. While Sara cleaned up in the kitchen, I sat outside on the front porch contemplating ideas to make Suzy become friends with the mailman. The half of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I just ate that was stuck to the roof of my mouth made it difficult to concentrate though.

"Did Suzy have a problem with Mr. Kelly when he was the mailman?" Sara asked as she stepped onto the porch.

"No, Suzy loved Mr. Kelly. He used to bring Suzy dog biscuits. Suzy knew exactly what time Mr. Kelly delivered the mail and would wait by the mailbox for him every day."

"Why don't you just get your new mailman to bring Suzy some dog biscuits?"

"That's not a bad idea, but I'm afraid to ask him. Dad said that he was really mad yesterday and threatened to quit delivering our mail." I also explained that we may have to go to court to pick up our mail and the possibility of getting a subpoena because I had been signing Serina K. on my homework. In addition, Dad had said that the dog biscuits were a bribe. I had read in my Social Studies book that bribery was against the law.

Suzy chasing the mailman, signing the wrong name on my homework, and bribery. The judge would probably sentence me to life in prison for all of those charges. I saw a movie once where prisoners broke giant boulders in half and then broke them into even smaller pebbles. That's all they did all the time was break rocks. Even though I have archaeological experience, I wouldn't want to break rocks all the time. I'm still excavating the field behind my house in search of a dinosaur bone or civil war relic, but I also need time to work on becoming a chef, scientist, and veterinarian as well.

"Why don't we just send Suzy the dog biscuits in the mail? When the mailman delivers the mail, he will have to give them to Suzy," Sara suggested.

"Technically, that won't be a bribe. The mailman will just be delivering the mail and Suzy will think that the dog biscuits are from him. You're a genius, Lady Sara!"

With that thought, we decided to ride our bikes to Wal-Mart to get the dog biscuits. Next to Paradise, Wal-Mart is my favorite place in the whole world. I've never been to Paradise, but I saw it on TV once. It was sunny there all the time and surrounded by the bluest water I have ever seen. I told my dad that I wanted to go there and he said that he did as well. I'm still not sure what he was laughing about though. The man on TV said it would only cost $549 for a trip to Paradise. I'm sure that if I kept saving my allowance and earnings from the veterinarian that we would have enough money in no time.

Wal-Mart is the closest place to paradise in Bradford. They have everything at Wal-Mart. I could stay at Wal-Mart all day just looking at stuff I'd like to have. My dad said that I'm the only person he knows that can spend so much time in Wal-Mart and not spend any money. I call it window shopping. By the time I save enough money for something I've had my eye on, the newness of the item has worn off and I don't want it anymore. In a way, window shopping helps me save money.

After browsing around at the giant TVs, we headed to the pet supply department. Sara debated on whether she should get her cats a new scratching post, but decided it would be a waste of time since they weren't supposed to be in the house anyway. From there, we searched through the different kinds of pet snacks before finally finding the dog biscuits Suzy likes, Bits O' Beef Dog Biscuits.

"We should get these gift wrapped," Sara suggested as we made our way to the checkout counter.

"That's a good idea. He'll be getting a present and it's not even Christmas or his birthday. He'll end up loving the mailman more than me."

The cashier at the checkout counter sent us to the customer service department. The woman at the customer service department was reluctant at first because they usually only wrap gifts during the Christmas shopping season. She suggested that we go to the jewelry department since they wrap gifts on special occasions all year long.

"You want to wrap dog biscuits?" the lady in the jewelry department asked. "I'm sorry, but we only wrap items from the jewelry department."

"Please. These are for my friend's dog. If he doesn't get these from the mailman, she might get a subpoena and have to go to jail," Sara blurted out.

The lady grinned as she studied Sara in her Cat Lady outfit. "I guess we can make an exception in that case," she said.

Chapter Four: Words of Wisdom

After leaving Wal-Mart, Sara headed back home to make sure her cats were put up before her parents got there. With the gift wrapped box of dog biscuits in the basket of my front handle bars, I pedaled to the post office as fast as I could. I had to stop a few times to reattach the pretty green bow the jeweler taped to the box because it kept getting caught in the wind. The bow flew into the air like a flying saucer before landing on the sidewalk behind me. I was tempted to leave it on the ground where it landed as I didn't have much time to get to the post office. The post office closed early on Saturday and I wanted to make sure the gift box got to Suzy by Monday. I didn't want to be a litter bug, so I stopped to pick it up each time it flew off. Besides, Suzy was going to love the beautiful package. I couldn't wait to see his expression.

"Hey there, Serina," Mr. Brady greeted me inside the post office. Mr. Brady was the assistant principal of Andrew Jackson Elementary School until he began working at the post office last summer. Even though he was always nice to me, Mr. Brady was the most feared man on the planet to the students of Andrew Jackson Elementary School. Every student feared a trip to his office which was usually the last resort a teacher utilized when dealing with a troublesome student. One student, Jimmy Kimmel, disappeared and was never seen again after visiting Mr. Brady's office. Some people claimed that he was being held in solitary confinement in the janitor's office for the rest of the school year and there were even rumors that his picture was on a milk carton at the supermarket. Autumn and I searched through the missing children posters in Wal-Mart's lobby, but we were never able to find his picture. The scandal was put to rest, however, when it was revealed that Jimmy had moved to another state when his father received a promotion at the company he worked at.

"What can I do for you today," Mr. Brady asked.

"I want to mail this package," I answered as I handed him the gift.

"I'm afraid you can't mail it like this. You'll need to put in a mailing box and address it properly," he explained.

"But it is addressed properly," I protested as I showed him the gift tag that read _To: Suzy, From: The Mailman._

"You want to mail this to your dog, Suzy, ......from the _mailman_?" he asked?

"Suzy and our new mailman don't get along so well for some reason. If I don't find a way to Make Suzy become friends with our new mailman, I might have to go to court and change my name," I explained. "I don't want to have to bust rocks for the rest of my life."

"You've lost me," He said bewilderedly.

I explained the conflict between Suzy and the mailman and the repercussions it could create if I had to go to court. "It's really stressing me out. If I could just get Suzy and the mailman to get along, all of my problems would be solved. I figured that Suzy might like him if he thought he was bringing him dog biscuits like Mr. Kelly used to do."

"Mr. McCarthy said he was having trouble with a pesky dog on his route. I didn't know that it was Suzy, but I should have guessed. He wreaked havoc at the school last year. He dug up the time capsule, interrupted a softball game and stole the ball while it was in play, disrupted the national anthem when he stuck his head in Mrs. Crocker's class and began howling, and interjected himself in the three-legged race during the May Day competition. That's just to name a few, minor examples."

"He won first place," I reminded him.

"Nevertheless, he has been known to cause chaos wherever he goes. Mr. McCarthy is pretty concerned."

"Is Mr. McCarthy our new mailman?"

"He transferred from Florida when Mr. Kelly retired. He's actually a pretty nice guy and works very hard around here. He just has a Suzy problem," Mr. Brady joked.

"Maybe the dog biscuits will solve the problem. How much will it cost for a box to mail this off in?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it. I'll give the dog biscuits to Mr. McCarthy and convince him that it would be in his best interest to give them to Suzy when he stops by your house. I don't think he'll have a problem with it. I think he'd be willing to try anything as Suzy's about to give him a nervous breakdown."

"Thanks, Mr. Brady. Are you sure this won't cost me anything?"

"No, save your money. Mr. McCarthy will be glad to do it. What adventure are you saving up for these days anyway?" he asked.

"I've been saving for my Ph.D., but I'm thinking about putting that off for a while until I save enough money for a trip to Paradise."

"Paradise, huh? You're an intelligent girl, Serina. I wouldn't worry so much about a Ph.D. Big things are going to come your way as you grow up. Right now, you should concentrate on being a kid and having fun. Don't worry so much about becoming rich and famous. Just be yourself. As you grow older and appreciate the things that are really important to you, you might discover that you don't have to travel far to find paradise. It could be just right around the corner."

"Thanks again, Mr. Brady. I hope this works," I said as I left the post office. I'm not sure what Mr. Brady was talking about, but I'm pretty sure Paradise wasn't around the corner of the post office.

Chapter Five: The Break-In

I thought about Mr. Brady's comments on the walk home. I was glad that he was helping me, but he didn't make much sense out when he was talking about Paradise being around the corner of the post office. I sure hope he's feeling alright. I called Sara to ask her opinion, but she was busy studying the dictionary in preparation for the Doddle Soup Spelling Bee.

"Maybe he's just getting old," she said. "My grandpa's like that. I don't know what he's talking about most of the time", she added before turning her attention back to the dictionary and hanging up.

Maybe Mr. Brady had a point. Between trying to raise and save money for my Ph.D. and the trouble between Suzy and Mr. McCarthy, I feel like I'm about to reach my breaking point. Since it was the weekend and I didn't have any homework, I decided that I would forget about my problems and just have some fun. The only problem was that I didn't have anything to do. I thought about styling Suzy's hair and getting him ready for the dog show at the Doodle Soup Festival, but that was two weeks away. I didn't see any point trying to make Suzy look glamorous anyway. He doesn't need a fancy hairdo or costume like some of the other dogs will probably have. He's got natural beauty. Besides, I'm sure he'll dazzle the judges with his charming personality.

I'm really looking forward to the Doodle Soup Festival this year. There will be all sorts of rides and games. I had some bad luck last year at the Paris Fish Fry on the Cage of Fear, but I was looking forward to the new roller coaster, the Twist of Fate, that is set to debut at the Doodle Soup Festival. In addition, Sara and I will probably get our picture in the Bradford Gazette after she wins the spelling bee and Suzy wins the dog show. It will be interesting, though, to see who wins the competition for the best tasting Doodle Soup since Mrs. Doyle won't be in it this year.

The Doodle Soup Festival has been a tradition in Bradford since the beginning of time. It only makes sense that it is celebrated in Bradford since Bradford is the Doodle Soup capital of the world. The soup is made easily from the drippings of a roasted or broiled chicken. Add a touch of vinegar and you've got Doodle Soup. Some people add hot peppers, onions, and other spices to make it more tasty. Most people eat it with either crackers or a biscuit, but I eat mine with my favorite pastry, the delicious funnel cake.

I'm not sure who discovered Doodle Soup and brought it to Bradford. I've heard that Christopher Columbus brought it over on the Mayflower. I've also heard that it was given to Davy Crockett from Native Americans after an agreement was made over some land that eventually became the town of Bradford. I'm not sure what to believe, but I'm betting that it was discovered by some of Mrs. Doyle's ancestors. Even though they're not in any of my history books, I'm pretty sure that she probably had some relatives on the Mayflower or that hung around with Davy Crockett back in the old days.

After thinking about a few experiments I could create that would probably get me grounded until I graduate, I finally decided to grab my metal detector from underneath the bed and head out to the field behind my house and see if I could discover some souvenirs from the Civil War. I didn't need to get into any more trouble and I needed a big discovery to jump start my archaeological career anyway. Even though it helped me get an "A" on my Social Studies projects last year by explaining the effects littering has on the environment, I was pretty disappointed when all I found last year was an old coffee can after Autumn and I has searched all summer in the sweltering sun for some sort of buried treasure. I've heard that archaeologists have been known to spend their entire career without ever discovering anything important. That's not much different than the prisoner who splits rocks his whole life. I'm not going to give up though. There's gold in that field. I just know it.

"Where are you running off to?" my dad asked as I darted down the stairs with the metal detector over my shoulder.

"Looking for treasure," I replied.

"Did you hear about the time capsule," he asked.

Last year, Mrs. Crocker's Social Studies class collected items for a time capsule to be opened at our 20 year class reunion to demonstrate how much people and pop culture change through the years. Many students made scrapbooks and videos, while others put sentimental items in it. In addition to pictures of Suzy, my dad, and me, I filled a Ziploc bag with $2.28 comprised of 4 quarters, 2 dimes, 8 pennies, and a dollar bill for the capsule. I've heard of people becoming rich by letting their money sit and draw interest over several years, so I figure that my $2.28 should draw enough interest to build me a pretty good nest egg by the time the capsule is unearthed. Mrs. Doyle donated a copy of her famous Doodle Soup recipe for the capsule. I guess she figured that she would probably be retired from competing at the festival anyway by the time the capsule was opened.

The burying of the capsule was featured in the Bradford Gazette and on several local television stations. The local news coverage caught the attention of the National News Network who traveled to Bradford a few months later to spotlight the Doodle Soup Festival for a segment on their network. After news spread about the only known copy in existence of Mrs. Doyle's recipe being buried beneath a concrete marker in front of the school, the Doyles were soon approached by several companies wanting to add Doodle Soup to their line of canned soups. Since Doodle Soup curiosity had spread nationwide and in popular demand, the Doyles decided that they would be more successful if they canned it and sold it themselves. I miss Autumn on my expeditions, but I can only imagine how busy she must be trying to help Mrs. Doyle make enough soup for the entire nation.

"What about the time capsule?" I asked.

"Sheriff Daniels said that it was broken into last night," he answered.

"It was covered in concrete. How could anyone break into it?"

"The concrete had been broken to pieces. Someone probably used a sledgehammer to break the concrete and then dug it up."

Prisoners bust blocks all the time. I wondered if was possible that a prisoner had broken the concrete and dug up the capsule. "Did Sheriff Daniels mention anything about any one escaping from jail recently?"

Dad didn't answer, but just stared at me for minute with a puzzled expression on his face. "Why would anyone break into the time capsule?" I asked my confused dad.

"The sheriff said it looks like they were after something. Pictures from scrapbooks were scattered across the school grounds. It's hard to tell what the vandal's motive was. The only item noticeably missing is Mrs. Doyle's recipe. The sheriff said that he'll know more when he is able to gather everything together and find an inventory of all the items that were in the capsule."

"I bet it was someone wanting to win the best tasting soup competition. They probably figure that they'll be guaranteed first place as long as they have Mrs. Doyle's recipe," I suggested.

"Are you going to add detective to your list of career goals now?" he joked.

In actuality, I've been studying Nancy Drew books recently and have been thinking about becoming a detective when I grow up instead of a veterinarian and scientist. I've even ordered a Nancy Drew Clue Book that should be coming in the mail within the next few days. "I might take the case," I answered.

"In the meantime, it'll be getting dark in a few hours. Why don't you put the metal detector up and we'll go somewhere for dinner?"

The news about the time capsule had added to stress my already boggled mind. The effects of Sara's peanut butter and jelly sandwich had disappeared hours ago. My energy level was empty and I needed some nourishment to fuel my brain if I was to begin investigating the time capsule vandalism. "That sounds good," I answered. "I'm starving."

My dad, Sara, and I have initiated a new tradition every Friday night by eating at the Mexican restaurant, El Casa Grande. Even though we had just eaten there last night, Dad said that I deserved a bonus treat since I had been under so much stress. I ordered a fajita burrito and cheese dip, while Dad had a taco and refried beans. I'm not sure why, but Dad orders refried beans on every trip to El Casa Grande. I guess leftovers are probably cheaper than ordinary, fried beans.

I enjoyed the meal, but I could not get the vandalism off my mind. After a couple episodes of Hannah Montana, I settled into bed for the night. I wasn't able to sleep, however, as the vandalism and recipe theft continued to occupy my mind. There was no doubt about it. I had to solve the case.

I got up out of bed and walked into my Dad's bedroom. He was still watching TV and hadn't gone to sleep yet. "Did the sheriff mention what time the break-in happened?" I asked.

"A patrolman said nothing was disturbed when he drove by shortly after midnight," he answered.

"Where were you after midnight?" I asked.

Chapter Six: Serina K. Takes the Case

The vandalism to the time capsule and the theft of Mrs. Doyle's Doodle Soup recipe were the subjects of chatter among the congregation before church Sunday morning. I tried not to insert myself into many of the conversations, but listened intently to everyone's discussions. Now that I had taken it upon myself to solve the heinous crime, I had to consider everyone a suspect. Since nearly every contestant in the soup competition was part of the congregation, eavesdropping could be my most valuable source of information. Unfortunately, the choir began singing before the thief slipped up and accidentally identified themselves. I was unable to gather any clues from the possible suspects in the congregation, but it was still early in the investigation. Even though it would mean that I would be getting behind on my archaeological and scientific work, I decided that solving the case of the missing Doodle Soup recipe would be my new mission.

When we got home from church, we were met by Suzy greeting us with the morning's newspaper clutched inside his mouth. Although it appeared that he was performing a good deed, he was really humoring himself by challenging me to a test of strength.

" _Grrrr_ ," growled Suzy as I attempted to free the paper from his mouth. He stepped back and clutched onto the paper harder. " _Grrrr_ , _Grrrr_ ," he continued to growl playfully.

After a short tug of war, I was able to wretch the paper away from Suzy. Before I was finished unrolling the paper, I caught a glimpse of the headline on the front page. " **Andrew Jackson Elementary School Time Capsule Vandalized** ," the headline read on the bite mark infested paper. After I had finished unrolling the paper, I focused on the tattered column under the headline.

The time capsule planted by third grade students of Andrew Jackson Elementary School last year was supposed to remain sealed until 2035. Before the one year anniversary of its dedication, however, the capsule was exhumed. Broken bits of concrete were all that remained of the monument that marked its location. Although the exhumation of the time capsule appeared to be an act of vandalism, Sherriff Tom Daniels stated that he was not sure if the culprit was a vagrant in search of a cheap thrill, or a thief with plans to sabotage a new soup company. After all the items from the capsule that were scattered along the school campus were collected, there were two items unaccounted for. A Ziploc bag containing $2.28 was missing along with Mrs. Lucy Doyle's famous Doodle Soup recipe.

" _Until Mrs. Doyle's recipe is found, we will be treating the case as a theft," Sherriff Daniels stated. "Mrs. Doyle's recipe is a very valuable document. Several investors have supplied funds for the Doyle's soup company as they are banking on sales of Doodle Soup to produce large returns on their investment. If the recipe gets into the wrong hands, it could be catastrophic to their investments."_

Now I was really mad. Not only did the thief steal Mrs. Doyle's recipe, but they stole my retirement fund too. "If Mrs. Doyle's recipe was worth so much money, why did the time capsule burglar bother taking my $2.28?" I asked my dad.

"That's what thieves do. They are motivated by greed. Even though the Doodle Soup recipe was the big prize they were probably after, they couldn't resist the temptation of the smaller prize," he replied. "Enough is never enough for a thief. Whoever stole the recipe didn't need your $2.28, but they took it anyway. That's the sort of actions that usually lead to the thief's downfall. He may get away with it this time, but he'll slip up and get caught sooner or later."

Sometimes I think my dad thinks he's a philosopher or something. I'll ask a simple question, but he'll tell me a long story to explain his answer. "You're going to be faced with a lot of tough decisions as you grow up. It's my job to makes sure you have the knowledge and understanding to help you make those decisions," he will usually say. I understand his motivation, but sometimes I wish he'd just get to the point. A simple yes or no will do in some instances.

"He's not going to get away with it," I snapped. "I'm going to catch him!"

"Be careful and don't cause any trouble," he ordered.

I ran upstairs and changed out of my church clothes in preparation to go scout the crime scene at the elementary school. A quick search of my room for tools that would help me find clues produced my metal detector and a magnifying glass that Grandpa Howard bought me for Christmas to help me study artifacts discovered on my expeditions. I grabbed a notebook and pen from Dad's den to take notes from the investigation and headed to Sara's house. If she wasn't busy studying for the spelling bee, she could be my assistant. I will definitely need her help as I will probably be in a hurry and misspell words as I take notes. I would hate not to be able to solve the case because I couldn't read my own notes.

I had filled Sara in on all the details of the stolen recipe and my plans to catch the crook. She was willing to be my assistant, but only if I would let her get her picture taken in her Cat Lady outfit for the newspaper after we solved the mystery.

"It'll be some good publicity for Lady Sara, Queen of the Cat People," she explained. "Helping solve the recipe mystery will expose my super powers to the world."

I didn't have time to change her mind. We needed to find as many clues as we could since we had to go back to school the next day. Besides, her outrageous appearance will draw everyone's attention, while I search for clues in the background. I would investigate incognito, while she serves as a decoy. If this plan works the way I think it will, Nancy Drew might write her next book about me.

"My dad said that I have to be home in time for dinner," Lady Sara said as she scampered down her front porch steps.

"If all goes well, we'll have the case solved by then," I replied confidently.

I grew more confident along the walk to school. Sara only lives about 2 ½ blocks from the school, so it only took us about ten minutes to get to the crime scene. It was enough time, however, to realize that my plan was going to work out perfectly. Every car that drove by us slowed down to catch a glimpse of Lady Sara. There were even a couple of vehicles that nearly crashed into each other because they couldn't take their eyes off her. Sara was going to be the perfect decoy after all.

I was not prepared, however, for what we found when we made it to the school campus. A WBFD news truck was parked in front of the office. A large van with a satellite dish on top of it was parked behind it. A huge crowd of people were gathered near the flagpoles where the time capsule was once buried.

"Stop for a minute," I directed Sara.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"That's a lot of people at the crime scene. I need to gather my thoughts and form a plan of attack," I answered.

My first thought was that this was going to make it more difficult to obtain clues with so many people around. Taking my dad's voice to think more optimistically, I realized that this would provide an even better opportunity for me to remain incognito. In addition, the crowd of people gathered now provided me with a crowd of suspects to question.

"Turn the metal detector on," I instructed Sara. "We might as well search the entire school grounds for clues. The crook might have dropped something during his get-away," I suggested.

Actually, this was a ruse. I figured that the sight of Sara approaching the crowd with the metal detector in her outrageous costume would distract the crowd enough for me to question everyone without it being obvious that I was a detective. With any luck, I could narrow the list of possible suspects down.

As we approached the crime scene, I suddenly heard a familiar voice shout my name.

"Serina!" the voice shouted again.

I couldn't believe my eyes when Autumn burst through the crowd and ran toward me.

"Autumn!" I screamed as I ran to met her.

I threw my arms around her and gave her a huge hug when we caught up with each other. I still couldn't believe that it was really her.

"When did you get in town," I asked. "Are you moving back?"

"Sheriff Daniels called us about the time capsule," she replied. "Mom was outraged when she heard the news. She said there was no way that someone was going to use the recipe to take credit for her life's work. We left Chicago last night and arrived early this morning. We haven't had much rest since we got here. Reporters have been driving us crazy since the news broke. A National News Network van followed us into town and even rented the hotel room next to us."

"Tell your mom not to worry. I'm on the case," I informed her.

"I'm sure that will ease her mind," Autumn said sarcastically.

"Who is that?" she asked as Sara approached us with the metal detector.

"That's my assistant, Sara."

"I'm Lady Sara, Queen of the Cat Kingdom," Sara said as she introduced herself.

"You must be desperate for an assistant," Autumn mumbled.

"I'm also Serina's best friend," Sara added.

"Is that right?" Autumn questioned.

"Actually, she's my cousin. Her dad took your dad's old job as the head basketball coach after you moved to Chicago."

"So, her whole family just moves in and takes our place?" Autumn asked.

"It's not like that at all," I attempted to explain.

"I'll catch up with you later," Autumn spouted. Mom's got an important interview with the National News Network. It looks like they're getting ready. The reporter insists that the whole family be on camera. Watch for me on TV tonight," she said before jogging back to the crime scene for the interview.

Before I could say anything, she was gone. Autumn and I had been best friends all of our lives. I didn't understand why she snubbed me. Was she jealous of Sara? Was I not supposed to have any friends since she left? Besides, it's not like I was hanging out with just anybody. Sara is my cousin. More than just a cousin, she had actually become my best friend in Autumn's absence. It was Sara, not Autumn, who thought of the fool proof plan to make Suzy and the mail man get along. If it wasn't for Sara, I'd be worrying about busting blocks for the rest of my life instead of investigating the theft of the Mrs. Doyle's Doodle Soup recipe.

It was hard to concentrate on the investigation after the confrontation with Autumn. I wasn't in the mood anymore to ask anyone any questions. Instead, we scoured the entire school grounds with the metal detector before heading home.

"We'll pick up the investigation tomorrow at school," I told Sara. "We'll interview students, teachers, and even the principal. We have to consider everyone a suspect."

"Do you want me to dress as Lady Sara?" she asked.

"That won't be necessary. We'll save your super powers for later."

We went our separate ways to our own homes. I went to bed earlier than normal that night. The confrontation with Autumn was stuck in my mind like Sara's peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the roof of my mouth. I couldn't understand why she acted so pompous and jealous.

To make matters worse, I was now staring at her on my TV screen being interviewed by the National News Network. I couldn't watch. I clicked the off button on the remote control and turned over in my bed. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.

Chapter Seven: Traffic Jam

I woke up the next morning rejuvenated. Even though things didn't go as planned the day before, a brainstorm had struck me in the middle of the night. It was my turn to act as the morning crossing guard this week. This would be an excellent opportunity to question possible suspects about the time capsule break-in.

For my plan to succeed, I would need my assistant. After getting dressed, I called Sara and told her to meet me at the school entrance in fifteen minutes. We would have to get there early before students started arriving to ensure the flow of traffic was safe. I ate a small bowl of cereal and hurried out the front door to meet Sara. Dad would probably fuss because I didn't put my dirty dishes up, but I had more important things to worry about. I could clean up later. Right now, I had a mystery to solve.

Sara met me at the school entrance. Luckily, we got there before anyone else started arriving. This gave us time to put on our safety vests and gloves. Mr. Willis, the school principal, brought a pad of citations and a whistle for each of us.

"Use the whistle if you see someone that needs to slow down or stop. The tickets are for serious violations only. The school board will review each citation that you issue and determine the appropriate punishment for the offender. Do not issue a ticket unless it is absolutely necessary," Mr. Willis instructed. "I'm counting on the two of you to take this job seriously and make sure everyone gets to school safe this morning," he added.

"You can count on us," Sara promised.

It wasn't long before cars started arriving. We were supposed to keep traffic flowing and direct oncoming vehicles into the school lot. That would have made it impossible to question anyone, so we decided to create a roadblock instead. We would simply stop each car and ask them if they had an alibi Friday night after midnight.

"Where were you Saturday after midnight?" I asked Billy Cannon's mom.

"Why?" she asked.

"Someone broke into the time capsule around that time. I'm leading the investigation," I explained.

"In that case, good luck. I'm afraid I won't be much help. I went to bed around 10:00 and didn't get up until Sunday morning to cook breakfast before going to church."

"Are you entered in the Doodle Soup contest this year?" I asked.

"No, Doodle Soup isn't a specialty of mine. It won't be on the menu at our house until Mrs. Doyle's becomes available at the supermarket."

"Move along," I directed.

We took turns questioning the inhabitants of each vehicle before allowing it to pass. This allowed us to record notes of each conversation. After about ten minutes, however, traffic began to back up for what looked like a couple of miles. Angry parents blared their horns and shook their fists at us.

"Here comes a policeman," said Sara. "Maybe he wants to help."

"What's going on here?" he asked when he approached.

"We're investigating a crime," Sara answered.

"What kind of crime? He asked.

"The case of the missing Doodle Soup recipe," she replied.

Stunned, the policeman replied, "Traffic's backed up for nearly four blocks. The least of your worries is going to be the missing Doodle Soup recipe if you don't get this traffic moving."

"No problem, sir," I said.

The last thing I needed was any trouble with the police. I began motioning for traffic to move along into the school entrance. Satisfied that traffic was beginning to move, he began walking back to his squad car. I was relieved when he left and felt lucky that he didn't give me a subpoena.

We began waving the rest of the traffic through without stopping to interrogate anyone. The interrogations had caused a significant delay in the arrival of some of the students. With any luck, we would be able to get most of the cars through without too many students receiving tardy slips.

We continued to motion traffic into the school lot without any obstacles until I spotted Scotty Riggs approach on his bicycle. Scotty has been a thorn in my side since Kindergarten when he tied my pony tails together. He has been harassing me and the rest of the student body ever since. I have become immune to his harassment and consider him more of a nuisance than anything.

"If it isn't Serina and her kooky friend," Scotty sneered.

At that moment, images of all the times Scotty had picked on me and my friends flashed through my mind. Scotty has done a lot of mean things since I've known him, but I'm not sure if he was mean enough to steal Mrs. Doyle's recipe. Nevertheless, I had to consider him a suspect.

"Stop!" I ordered.

Instead of stopping, he kept pedaling toward the school. I blew the whistle at the top of my lungs and shouted at him to stop again. When he continued to ignore me, I chased after him.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I need to ask you a few questions."

"I don't have time to mess with you. You're going to make me late for class."

"Where were you Friday night after midnight?" I asked.

"None of your business," he sneered.

"I guess I'll just have to issue you a citation if you don't want to cooperate," I threatened.

"A citation for what?"

"You're not wearing a seatbelt."

"I'm riding a bicycle. You can't give me a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt on a bicycle."

"You can debate the case with Mr. Willis," I said as I tore the ticket from the pad and handed it to him.

"Are you kidding me?"

"The law is the law," I said.

Actually, I knew that the citation was bogus. Mr. Willis would probably be steaming mad when he heard about it. However, I didn't have a choice. Scotty refused to cooperate. Mr. Willis would probably call Scotty and me both in the office to discuss the ticket. Scotty won't have a chance to avoid my questions when I get him in the office in front of Mr. Willis.

After the altercation with Scotty, we finally managed to direct all of the vehicles into the school lot. Unfortunately, we didn't get the last car through until ten after eight. All of the children dropped off after 7:45 were considered late and would have to get a tardy slip before they would be allowed to report to class. This included Sara and I since the crossing guards were always the last students to enter the school.

When we entered the front doors of the school, we were awestruck at the mass of students gathered in the front hall. We attempted to wade our way through the crowd to return our equipment to Mr. Willis, but were met with jeers and taunts as we fought through the crowd.

"Thanks, Serina," Tommy York said sarcastically. "This is all your fault."

As we squeezed through the mob, I spotted Mr. Willis in the office doorway. His face was beat red.

"I need to see you in my office," he said to us.

Normally, a trip to the office was meant with dread and anxiety. This time, however, the office was a refuge from the angry mob in the hall. After finally making it past the mob of students, we marched past the receptionist into Mr. Willis's office. Along with Mr. Willis, Scotty Riggs was sitting nervously in the office as well. Mr. Willis pointed to the two chairs beside Scotty Riggs and silently ordered us to sit down.

"Can you explain why you issued Scotty a citation for not wearing a seatbelt?" he asked.

"Because he wasn't wearing one," Sara answered.

Mr. Willis didn't say anything, but the expression on his face made it obvious that he was not amused.

"He wouldn't cooperate," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Sara and I are investigating the time capsule break-in. He refused to answer my questions."

"Is Scotty a suspect?"

"Everyone is a suspect."

A hint of a grin took form on Mr. Willis's face. "What did you ask him?" he asked.

"I asked him where he was Saturday night after midnight," I answered.

"Well, Scotty, where were you?" Mr. Willis asked.

"I didn't do it. I was at home in bed. I promise!" Scotty answered frantically. "I couldn't have gone anywhere if I had wanted to. I'm still grounded from the time I chased my sister around the house with my pet frog. Mom says that I'm grounded until I'm 17."

"Serves you right!" Sara rejoiced.

"You're free to go to class, Scotty. I'll explain everything to Mrs. Reed," stated Mr. Willis.

"Are you happy now?" he asked after closing the door behind Scotty.

"The perpetrator is still at large," I answered.

"I appreciate your effort and enthusiasm in helping find the person responsible for the break-in of the time capsule, but all you have accomplished today is shortening our school day by half an hour. You saw the number of students waiting in the hall. If we give everyone a tardy slip, it will be lunch time by the time we get everyone finally in class."

"I was trying to keep track of time, but there were too many suspects," I argued.

"I also told you not to issue any citations unless there were serious violations, yet you issued Scotty a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt on his bicycle. Somehow, I'm going to have to explain this to the school board." "Have you got any suggestions how I am supposed to do that?" he asked.

"They might understand if they knew it was part of an official investigation," I answered.

"It's not an _official_ investigation," he replied. "If you want to continue your investigation, you'll have to do it on your own time. You are relieved of your crossing guard duties for the rest of the week."

"Does that mean we're fired?" Sara asked.

"It means I don't trust you not to repeat the same scenario tomorrow morning," he said. "You need to make sure you don't cause any more trouble during your investigation. I know how determined you probably are to solve the mystery, but you can't keep disrupting class. If your antics disrupt class in any way, shape, or form in the future, I'll put an end to your investigation permanently," he threatened. "Go ahead and get to class. I'm giving you a reprieve this time around."

"Do we need a tardy slip?" I asked.

"That won't be necessary," He answered.

I stopped in the door way and asked, "Can I ask one more thing?"

"Make it quick," he replied.

"Where were you Saturday night after midnight?"

"You'd better get to class before I change my mind," he answered.

Chapter Eight: Special Delivery

By lunch time, everyone had gotten over the anger with Sara and me. In fact, mostly everyone was glad they were detained since it got them out of their first period class. A few people even volunteered to take part in our investigation by letting us interrogate them. The lunch lady, however, was not quite as receptive when I asked her about her alibi.

I ran home as quick as I could after school. Today was the day that Mr. McCarthy would be delivering Suzy's present and I wanted to be there to see Suzy's expression when Mr. McCarthy gave it to him. In addition, I needed the plan to work to ensure myself that I could still solve problems by thinking outside of the box. After the setbacks I've had in the investigation, I've had ounces of doubt about my ability to solve the case. A reconciliation between Suzy and Mr. McCarthy would provide me a boost of much needed morale.

I made it home with a few minutes to spare before the time Mr. McCarthy usually made his rounds. Since I had a few minutes before he would arrive, I decided to make myself a quick snack. My stomach was growling pretty fierce. I devoured a bologna and cheese sandwich and gulped down a glass of cherry Kool-Aid in record time.

After I finished eating, I peered out the window and saw Mr. McCarthy at my neighbor's house dropping off their mail. It would be a just a few more moments before he was arriving with Suzy's present. I fed Suzy the bread crust that I had peeled from my sandwich and told him to follow me outside.

We stepped onto the front porch just as Mr. McCarthy stepped into our yard. Suzy had his eyes on some sparrows flying over and didn't seem to notice. I gave him a nudge and pointed him in the direction of the approaching Mr. McCarthy.

" _Grrrr, Grrrr_ ," he growled.

I tried to reassure him that Mr. McCarthy was on a mission of goodwill, but he must not have been listening. He stared directly at Mr. McCarthy and snarled ferociously.

" _Grrrr, Grrrr, Grrrr_ ," he snarled ferociously.

Sensing the impending danger, Mr. McCarthy pulled the gift from his mailbag and attempted to win Suzy's affections by flashing the gift wrapped box of dog biscuits in the air. His strategy seemed to work. In a mad dash, Suzy leaped off the porch and sped toward Mr. McCarthy.

Mr. McCarthy held the present in front of him with both hands as if he expected Suzy to grab it from his hands. Instead, Suzy tackled him with a flying leap. I thought he was just excited and overreacted when he saw the present, but he made no effort to snatch the box that landed on the grass after it flew from Mr. McCarthy' hands. His eyes and teeth focused solely on Mr. McCarthy's neck as he stood atop his chest.

Get this dog off me," Mr. McCarthy screamed. "Help!"

Suzy backed off and clamped down on Mr. McCarthy's mail bag. This allowed Mr. McCarthy to get to his feet. He grabbed the strap of his bag and began a tug of war with Suzy.

"Let go of my bag, you mutt!" Mr. McCarthy yelled.

Suzy's teeth remained clenched to the bag as Mr. McCarthy yanked on the strap. A winner could not be determined as the contest eventually ended in a draw. Mr. McCarthy fell to the ground as Suzy's grip ripped the side pocket from the bag. With the fabric dangling from his mouth, he disappeared into the field behind our house. Meanwhile, Mr. McCarthy had gotten to his feet and was patting the dirt off from his uniform.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"No, I'm not ok. That dog of yours attacked me. Look at my mail bag! He tore the pocket completely off of it."

"Uh, sorry about that," I said. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You can tie that dog up is what you can do. Mr. Brady told me to bring this stupid present for that dog of yours. That was the craziest thing I've ever heard of. I can't believe I went along with it. Mr. Brady thought it might work. He said your dog was special. I should have known better. My job is to make sure the mail gets delivered no matter what. It's not to make friends with stupid dogs. You better make sure that dog isn't around tomorrow when I come by, or you'll be picking your mail up from the post office from now on."

After finishing his tantrum, Mr. McCarthy picked up his bag and continued on his route. I was about to walk back into the house when I saw the pretty green bow from the present poking through the grass. I'm not sure why Suzy reacted the way that he did. He must not have noticed the present. I think he would have showered Mr. McCarthy with a tongue bath if he had noticed it. Unfortunately, he didn't notice it and the perfect plan had turned into a catastrophe.

I knew that Suzy would still be enamored with the present when he saw it. I picked it up from the grass and called his name a few times, but he never came. Thinking that Suzy might have a change of heart when he eventually saw the gift, I took it inside and placed it on the kitchen table.

The day's events had thrown a monkey wrench in my plans. I was hoping that Sara's plan would have solved my problem with Mr. McCarthy, but the situation only worsened. So far, I hadn't made any progress in my investigation either. I was at my wit's end. What would Nancy Drew do? I wandered.

I needed some time to meditate to ease my mind. A nice bubble bath would provide me the serenity I needed. I decided to spoil myself and put my problems on hold for now. A rested mind and body would help me attack my problems more effectively the next day. That's what my dad would say. He so wants to be a philosopher.

Chapter Nine: End of an Era

The rest of the week was uneventful and did not produce any positive conclusions for the investigation. I decided to take more laid back approach as I realized how much stress the burden of being a world famous detective was creating. Besides, Principal Willis had relieved me of my crossing guard duties this week. Catching wind of my plans, my other teachers banned me from asking anyone any questions regarding the time capsule break-in. This pretty much crippled my investigation.

The situation between Suzy and Mr. McCarthy contributed to my lack of progress as well. Although Mr. McCarthy was still delivering our mail, it was only because I made sure that Suzy was in the house when he made his rounds. I felt like Sara making sure her cats are put up before her parents get home.

After a lackluster week, Saturday provided me with a new opportunity. The Bradford Red Devils were playing the Milan Bulldogs for the county softball championship. Hundreds of possible suspects would be at the game. I would be able to interrogate anyone without restrictions. Hopefully, I could make up for lost time.

After lunch, I put Suzy on his leash and walked over to Sara's house. Much like what we had planned at the school crossing, we would take turns interviewing suspects. One of us would have to keep track of Suzy at all times. Normally, I would let Suzy run free, but Coach Nelson banned him from all softball games unless he was on a leash. Suzy got carried away last year and tried to be part of the game. It wasn't entirely Suzy's fault. He thought he was supposed to fetch the ball when it was hit into the outfield. It was quite a spectacle watching the entire Red Devils team chase Suzy around the ball park trying to retrieve the ball from him. The only problem was that while they were busy chasing Suzy, the base runner was allowed to roam the bases freely. What would have been a single turned into a game winning home run for the opposing team. Luckily, the loss didn't hurt the team's ranking. Nevertheless, Coach Nelson wasn't amused when a local newspaper published photos of the chase and credited Suzy with the game winning RBI for the opposition. In addition, the story mockingly questioned whether or not Suzy was listed on the official roster of players.

Coach Nelson spotted us as soon as we stepped through the admittance gate. Although he was in the middle of warming up with the team, he threw his mitt down and headed in our direction. Sara and I tried to head in the opposite direction, but were stopped by Suzy.

The smell of fresh hot dogs and hamburgers had caught Suzy's attention. I tugged on the leash in an effort to coerce him to come on, but he promptly sat down in front of the concession stand and stared at the counter. Sara and I tried pulling on his leash simultaneously, but he still wouldn't budge. As we were tugging away, I felt someone tap me on my shoulder.

What is that dog doing here?" Coach Nelson asked.

"Sara and I are investigating the time capsule break-in. He's going to help sniff for clues," I replied.

"You better make sure he doesn't decide to start sniffing on the ball field."

"I won't let him go near the field. I'll wrap the leash around my wrist to make sure he doesn't get away from me."

"Just make sure you don't let him go. This game is for the county championship. My players need to be focused on the game. They don't need to be worried about a dog running off with the ball."

"I won't let him get away," I promised.

"I'm keeping my eyes on you," he warned before heading back to the dugout.

After Coach Nelson left, we were still unable to move Suzy. I finally relented and ordered him a plain hot dog. After swallowing the hot dog without chewing, he was more cooperative. Since there were a few minutes before the game started, we decided to walk around the home team bleachers and scan the vicinity for suspects. We hadn't gotten far when we were met face to face with Autumn on her way to the concession stand.

"How's the case coming along?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Very slowly, but we're still working on it. We're going to ask a few questions to some of the spectators today. I'm hoping we'll catch a break that will bust the case wide open."

"You'd better hurry up. We're going back to Chicago next week. Mom said that if we don't find that recipe before we leave that our investors might back out."

"Where were you last Saturday after midnight?" Sara asked Autumn.

"I was in Chicago. Seriously, Serina, you could have done a better job replacing me than with Inspector Clueless," Autumn answered before turning her nose up and walking off to the concession stand.

Sara didn't seem offended by Autumn's remark, but I was. This was the second time Autumn had insulted her. Sara had been my best friend and assistant since she moved to Bradford. I felt obligated to defend her.

"Make sure you wash up after you eat. I'd hate for you to have a bit of mustard on your chin when you're posing for the paparazzi," I yelled.

I've never seen Autumn so mad. With steam rolling from her ears, she marched back to me and Sara. She didn't even bother to finish ordering her food from the concession stand.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I just figured you'd want to look your best for your adoring public. It seems like that's all you care about anymore. You've been acting like some kind of celebrity every since you came back from Chicago."

"You're just jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"You're just jealous because my mom's soup is going to make our family rich and famous. You spend all your time trying to figure out ways to become rich and famous with your expeditions and experiments. Now, you're running around with your weird friend acting like you're some hotshot detective. The funny thing is that even if you solved the mystery and became famous, it'd only be because of my mom's soup."

"You're so full of yourself," I fired back. "I wouldn't doubt if you somehow staged the whole break-in just for a publicity stunt."

"How do I know that you and Cat Lady didn't stage it just so you can act like you solved the crime? You'll do anything to get your picture in the paper."

"If being rich and famous means becoming a snob like you, I think I'll keep it to myself when I find the recipe."

"Whatever. Like you're really going to find the recipe anyway." I got to go. I have more important things to do than argue with you.

I didn't say anything else, but simply let her walk off. I was stunned at her comments. I wish I hadn't said some of the things that I had said to her, but I felt obliged to defend Sara's honor. I always thought that Autumn and I would be friends forever, but it looked like it was just me and Sara from now on.

"What's going on at the school?" Sara asked.

Sara was pointing across the ball field to the elementary school. For some reason, a light shone through one of the classroom windows. A faint shadow of a person could be seen moving around in the classroom. Since it was Saturday, there shouldn't be anyone at the school. This could be the big break we were looking for.

"Let's go find out," I told Sara.

Chapter Ten: The Figure in the Window

Like a true bloodhound, Suzy held his nose to the ground and led the way to the school. I'm not sure if it was the pollen levels or the scent of tracks that caused him to sneeze uncontrollably. After a brief hiatus to let Suzy regain his composure, we continued toward the school.

As we approached the school, we noticed that the window to the music class was half open.

"Shhh," I whispered to Sara. "Let's get a closer look."

We crept the rest of the way to the school and crouched beneath the window. I peered through the window to spy a man standing on a ladder and reaching toward the ceiling. To my surprise, it was Mr. McCarthy. Before I could process my observation, Suzy blew our cover.

Upon seeing Mr. McCarthy, Suzy wedged his head inside the open window and began barking viciously. Startled, Mr. McCarthy fell from the ladder to the floor. Displaying the instincts of a bloodhound again, Suzy feverishly fought to squeeze his body through the window. Although I tried to contain him, his will was stronger than the grasp that I had on the leash. The leash slipped through my hands as Suzy scooted through the window to stand guard over the fallen mailman.

Much like he had done earlier in the week, Suzy was once again standing atop Mr. McCarthy's chest starring at his necks as if it were a Ribeye steak fresh off the grill. Unlike their previous encounter, Mr. McCarthy was not begging for mercy. In fact, he wasn't moving at all. Fearing that he might be injured, I tried crawling through the half-open window. With a shove from Sara, I managed to wedge myself through the opening and landed with a thud on the classroom floor. Once on my feet, I grabbed Suzy's leash and pulled him away from Mr. McCarthy.

"Is he alright?" Sara asked after crawling through the window.

"I'm not sure," I answered. "He isn't moving."

"I'm ok," Mr. McCarthy mumbled. "I got the wind knocked out of me, but I'm alright."

Suzy charged forward and resumed his attack when Mr. McCarthy attempted to rise to his feet.

"Get this dog off of me!" he shouted.

I wrapped the leash around my wrist several times to where Suzy couldn't get far from my reach. Even though I had a firm grip on the leash, he still struggled to break free to get to Mr. McCarthy. While I held Suzy at bay, Mr. McCarthy was finally able to get to his feet.

"What is it with that dog?" he asked. "Is he following me? What are you doing here anyway?"

"We're investigating the time capsule break-in. We saw the light in the window and thought we should investigate," I answered. "What are you doing here?"

"I just finished changing the light bulb when that dog of yours decided to make his presence known."

"I don't quite understand," I responded. "

"We need a couple of light bulbs at our house too. Can you replace them when you bring our mail by?" Sara asked.

"I work at the school on the weekends performing routine maintenance and basic janitorial work," he explained. "Mr. Brady had heard that they were looking for someone to do some part time work at the school and asked me if I knew of anyone who might be interested. "I told him that I could use the extra money and took the job myself."

"We thought you might have been a burglar," I said.

"If I was, I'm wouldn't be a very good one. Your dog seems to have my number," he joked.

This was the first hint of a sense of humor he had shown since I had met him. Not that I could blame him. I'd be mad too if some dog kept attacking me. Nevertheless, I figured I'd use the opportunity to make amends.

"I'm sorry about all the trouble he's caused," I said.

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to encountering dogs along my routes, although I've never met one quite as determined as Suzy. He's given me a few scares recently."

"I'm just glad you weren't hurt."

"Besides having the wind knocked out of me, I might have been in a state of shock. I'm on top of a ladder one minute. I'm staring at the ceiling with angry dog on top of me the next minute."

"I've been trying to make sure he's in the house when you come by with the mail. I'm just glad you're not making us pick our mail up from the post office. I thought you might quit after he tore your mailbag up."

"I thought about it, but everyone deserves a second chance. I thought the dog biscuits might do the trick. He seemed more interested in getting into my mailbag than he did the dog biscuits. I hope he eventually got a chance to enjoy them."

"He still won't touch them. He might have come around if he still thought it was a gift, but my dad spoiled that idea."

How'd he do that?"

"After Suzy ran off, I left the box on the kitchen table. When my dad got home from work, he saw the package and thought it was a gift for him. I tried to warn him, but it was too late. He didn't say anything after he opened it up. He just shook his head and set the box on the shelf."

"Did you ever find the pocket of my bag that he tore off?"

"No, Suzy hid it good. I hope there was nothing important in there."

"It was just junk mail. Don't worry about trying to find it. The bag wasn't any use with the pocket ripped out of it, so I threw it away. Luckily, I had a spare."

Suzy was starting to grow restless. Despite Mr. McCarthy's kindness after being attacked, Suzy was still ready to pounce on him. Although he couldn't get far, he clawed at the concrete in attempt to free himself from the leash. I passed the leash off to Sara, while I tried to wind down the conversation.

"We'd better get going. I'll make sure Suzy stays clear of your path from now on," I said.

"Where are you headed?" he asked.

"Back to the investigation."

"How's the investigation going?"

"We've run into a few stumbling blocks, but we're not giving up."

"Have you got any leads?"

"I think it could be one of the contestants in the Doodle Soup competition. This will be the first time in several years that someone's got a chance to win besides Mrs. Doyle. Mrs. Doyle's recipe would pretty much guarantee victory."

"Mrs. Doyle's Doodle Soup is certainly the best in the world," he agreed.

"If anyone's soup tastes like Mrs. Doyle's, it'll be a dead giveaway that they're the crook," I continued.

"I heard that the festival is supposed to be spectacular this year."

"I'm going to be in the county spelling bee," Sara interjected. "There's going to be reporters there and everything."

"You should come join the fun," I added. I even entered Suzy in the dog show. We might make it on TV even if we don't solve the mystery."

"I'll definitely be there. It sounds like the place to be. Besides, I want to make sure I'm there to tell the reporters all about Suzy's talents after he wins the dog show," he joked.

Mr. McCarthy walked us down the hall and to the exit. After getting to know him, he seemed like a pretty nice guy. Suzy, however, was not impressed. He scratched and growled maniacally at the door after it closed. Sara and I both yanked on the leash in an effort to get him to follow us. After a few minutes of resistance, he finally realized his effort was futile and gave up. He followed us across the school yard, but kept looking back in the direction of the school. For whatever reason, Suzy was not a fan of Mr. McCarthy.

Chapter Eleven: Identity Crisis

Even though I was happy that my issues with Mr. McCarthy seemed resolved for the time being, I was still bummed about the latest confrontation with Autumn. Even though she acted like a total diva, I was still bothered by her accusations. I was seriously doubting if all the hard work I was putting into solving the mystery was worth the trouble. I hadn't gained anything, but I had lost my best friend. I began to ask myself if I really wanted to become rich and famous. Maybe Mr. Brady was right. Maybe I needed to spend more time being a kid. What did I need a Ph.D. for anyway?

After Sunday morning's church service, I was leaning even closer to giving up my search for fame and fortune. Pastor Thomas delivered an emotional sermon about the evils of greed. He began by telling the story of the cleansing of the temple. The temple in Jerusalem was a sacred place that was supposed to be a place of worship. Instead of a place where people could come and worship, it had been turned into a marketplace. The merchants didn't care about the sacredness of the temple as long as they could make a profit. Jesus, however, put an end to the trading and restored the sanctity of the temple.

After telling the story of the temple, Pastor Thomas continued attack on greed. He explained how people can get caught up in their love of money they forget that it is God who makes all things possible. Money soon takes the place of God in their lives. Without God in their lives, their lives fall apart. The love of money engulfs their lives to the point that they'll do anything to acquire it. This immediately made me think of the thief that broke into the time when I heard the pastor's description of those that worship money instead of God.

Pastor Thomas finished the sermon by explaining how God will provide for all of our needs. While some people strive for fame, it is really in God's hands. He explained that God may require our abilities in a role that didn't bring fame or fortune. God needs the small town doctors just as much as the world renowned surgeon. God has a plan for all of us. As Pastor Thomas said, "It's all about him." Instead of searching for fame, we should be seeking ways to spread God's message and glorify him.

The message sank deep in my thoughts. I began to think that Autumn had a point. Becoming rich and famous had become the focal point of my life. I decided right then that I didn't want to be rich and famous anymore. When it was time for the offering, I decided to donate my entire Ph.D. savings. Since I didn't know why I even needed a Ph.D., the $4.53 could be of better use to the church.

After church, I rode my bike over Sara's house. We didn't talk much after we left Mr. McCarthy the day before at the elementary school. Even though she didn't acknowledge Autumn's insults, I knew that it had to bother her. Grandma Becky had brought over a jar of her homemade strawberry jelly the day before, so I slapped together a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to carry with me. Remembering how Sara told me she prepares her sandwich, I made sure to use the same knife for both the jar of peanut butter and jar of jelly. My dad would probably fuss when he discovered the mixtures in each jar, but I would explain the logic later.

I called Sara before I left and told her that I would be over shortly. She said her parents were out and just to come in when I got there. She said that she would be in her bedroom studying for the spelling bee.

I opened the door when I got to her house and began to walk upstairs. Something didn't seem right. I stopped for a moment to see if I could pinpoint what was different. I finally realized what it was. There were no cats! Usually, her cats are running rampant amongst the house when her parents were not at home.

I was even more confused when I opened the door to Sara's bedroom. Sara was sitting on her bed reading a version of Webster's Dictionary. She had straightened her hair in a fabulous, movie star style. She was also wearing lipstick and mascara to accent her new hairdo. The look was quite a contrast to her Lady Sara getup. I had never seen her look so beautiful.

She lowered her glasses slightly from her eyes to acknowledge my presence. The action reminded me of the school librarian when she tells the students to quiet down. She sort of looked like that lady who used to be the governor in Alaska. Maybe Sara was trying to emulate her.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing. Just trying to memorize as many words as possible before Saturday," she said in a newly acquired British accent.

"I didn't see Comet, Cupid, or any of the other cats hanging around anywhere."

"They're outside where they belong," she said. "All they do is lie around when they do come in. When they're not lying around, they're just begging for food or tearing something up. I don't need the distraction right now."

""You look fabulous today. I was expecting to find you in your Lady Sara attire." What's the occasion?"

"This is my new Lady Sara attire. I'm sick of people calling me weird because they don't understand my super intelligence. Now, they'll be begging for my attention. People will be trying to act like they are smart just to talk to me. No longer will people like Autumn and Scotty Riggs call me weird and make fun of me. In fact, I'll be a bigger star than Autumn after I win the spelling bee. She'll be so jealous."

"She's already jealous of you," I contended.

"I can't wait to see her face the next time she sees me. I hope she tries to talk to me. I'll make her address me as Lady Sara before I will even speak to her."

"I thought you didn't want people to think you're weird. Why do you still want to be called Lady Sara?"

"Lady Sara is not the Queen of the Cat Kingdom any longer. Lady Sara is an aristocratic socialite. Just like Lady Diana."

I understood her frustration, but now she was starting to sound like a diva. There wasn't really much that I could say. I was having my own identity crisis.

The visit began to feel awkward. Sara rarely looked up from her dictionary, while I sat to myself trying to think of something to say. To lighten the mood, I suggested that we eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that I had made with Grandma Becky's jelly. To my surprise, she declined them. She said that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches did not fit in with her new, healthy diet plan.

I finally told her that I would see her at school the next day and headed home. On my way out, Comet sped from the porch swing that he was sprawled across and tried his best to squeeze in the front door before it closed. When the door closed in his face, he turned around and stared at me directly in my eyes. It was almost like I could read his mind. He wanted to be inside with his best friend, Lady Sara. The Lady Sara that he knew and loved, however, was not there.

Chapter Twelve: Mrs. Barnes to the Rescue

The investigation into the time capsule break-in had come to a virtual halt. I didn't see Sara at school much that week. When I did see her, she was usually busy studying for the spelling bee. She was still sporting her new makeover and had caught everyone's attention. I had several people ask me who the new girl was, but I simply shrugged my shoulders as if I didn't know. I was still bothered by the apparent end to my friendship with Autumn and all the trouble that my search for fame had caused.

Before I knew it, it was Thursday. There were only two more days until the Doodle Soup Festival. The week had surpassed rather quietly without any activity in the investigation. Suzy had remained in the house during Mr. McCarthy's mail route. I had given up my search for fame, so I didn't bother searching the field for gold either. Leading a straight and narrow life sure was boring.

I needed to do something to keep me from going stir crazy, so I decided to make my dad supper before he got home. Even though I changed my mind about becoming famous like Emeril, I could still work on my chef skills. A Serina K. salad was in the works!

I was in the process of shredding lettuce and onions when I discovered that we didn't have any cucumbers. I couldn't make a Serina K. Special without any cucumbers. Cucumbers were Dad's favorite vegetable. Last year, we had so many left from our garden that I loaded up my wagon and sold them around the neighborhood to raise money for the carnival. Not wanting to have too many again this year, Dad didn't plant as much. The only problem was that now there wasn't enough. I found some change underneath the couch cushions and headed off to the market around the block.

While I was at the vegetable section of the market looking for the perfect cucumbers for my salad, I was approached by Mrs. Barnes. Mrs. Barnes was a widower who lived a few houses down from us. We had become good friends when Suzy became friends with her dog, Penny. I helped her take care of the puppies until they were all given away. She also got me the summer job at the veterinarian's clinic.

"Are you raising money for another carnival trip? I bet you're buying those cucumbers so you can sell them for a higher price around the neighborhood," she joked.

"I was making my dad a salad for dinner until I found out that we didn't have any cucumbers. Dad didn't plant much of a garden this year, so I had to scrounge some change together to finish the salad."

"That's awfully nice of you to make your dad dinner."

"I was just trying to keep myself busy. There was nothing to do at the house."

"Nothing to do!" she exclaimed. "I've never known you to be at a loss of ideas. I heard that you were even leading an investigation in to the time capsule vandalism."

I gave her a rundown of the events that have happened since the time capsule break-in. She was surprised to hear that Autumn and I were no longer best friends. Autumn and I had spent most of last summer over her house swimming and helping her take care of Suzy and Penny's puppies. I also filled her in on my decision to retire from the investigation and all of my other efforts to become famous.

"You have talent, Serina. God gave you those talents for a reason. It would be a shame to let them go to waste."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You've got more drive and determination than most adults. Maybe you've just been going in the wrong direction. Instead of thinking about how famous you will become when you unearth a great discovery on an expedition, maybe you need to think about how important that discovery would be to the world. If Thomas Edison had given up because of fear of the evils of fame, he would have never perfected the light bulb."

"I didn't know somebody invented light bulbs," I said.

"There were many people that tried, but it was Thomas Edison that developed the first light bulb that would last for an extended period of time. We'd still be in the dark if it wasn't for Thomas Edison. Although he became rich and famous as a result, it wasn't the desire for fame and fortune that made him succeed. It was his passion and belief in his idea that led to his success. You display the same characteristics and passion when you talk of your experiments and expeditions. Thomas Edison changed our lives. I believe that one day you will do something that will make a difference in everyone's life as well. You can't do that if you give up."

"What do you think I should do?"

"I think you should get back on the case."

"What if they put my picture in the paper when I solve it? I don't want God to be mad at me if I become famous."

"Maybe God wants you to solve the case. If you don't solve it, who will? I bet there's not a person on the police force who will work on it as hard as you. I'm not even sure if anyone else is working on it."

"I'm not sure. I don't know if my dad has heard anything from Sheriff Daniels or not. He hasn't mentioned it since he first told me about the break-in."

"What about you? Have you found any clues?"

"No, but my instincts are telling me that it's one of the contestants in the Doodle Soup competition."

I expected some skepticism when I explained my theory to her. Mrs. Barnes is the chairperson of the Doodle Soup Days committee. She organizes all of the activities at the festival. In fact, she plays Bingo with most of the contestants on Saturday nights at the community center. When she finally replied, I was surprised that she considered my theory plausible.

"I don't think anyone in the contest would do that, but you never can tell," she said. "If it is one of the contestants, how would you prove it?"

"I haven't quite figured that out yet," I answered.

"I could use another judge for the competition."

"Another judge? How many are going to be there?"

"I have two right now, but I need another one."

"Let me know where they're going to be at. I want to make sure to avoid them. If they see me, they might give me a subpoena."

"I need another soup taster to help determine a winner of the competition. I was going to fill in, but this would be a good opportunity to prove your theory. If your theory is correct, you'll catch the person who vandalized the time capsule and stole Mrs. Doyle's recipe. If you're wrong, you simply helped crown the new Doodle Soup champion."

"That's a great idea! I can't wait to see the thief's face when I catch him red-handed."

"Let's not get too carried away just yet. You need to be discreet. We don't want anyone to find out what you're up to. As far as anyone is concerned, you're only there to help judge the contest. If one of the contestants is the thief, we don't want them to panic and drop out of the competition. I also don't want to offend anyone in the event that you're wrong."

"Don't worry. I'll be incognito," I assured her.

I was rejuvenated after my conversation with Mrs. Barnes. I went home and fixed my dad the greatest salad ever. Dad said that I really outdid myself. I wasn't sure what he meant when he said that he was glad to see that I had gotten my mojo back, but I'm pretty sure he was trying to compliment me in one of his weird, philosophical ways.

I was feeling pretty confident. There were just a few matters that I needed to take care of. For starters, I had to help Sara find herself again.

Chapter Thirteen: Saving Sara

I found Sara the next day sitting at a lunch table by herself. Instead of eating, her head was buried in her dictionary. She didn't even notice when I set my tray down next to hers.

"How's it going?" I asked.

"Not very good," she said in her British accent. "I've been having a little bit of trouble studying."

"What's the problem?"

"I can't seem to remember how to spell any of these words no matter how many times I read them to myself".

"You need to find your mojo," I said.

"What's a mojo?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, but my dad said he thought that I found mine. I think it's some kind of invisible force that makes you happy or something."

She put her head back in the dictionary and began flipping through the pages. After a few minutes, she looked up and asked, "How do you spell mojo?"

I took the dictionary from her and quickly found the word. The dictionary defined mojo as a charm or magical power. I read the definition several times to myself before handing it back to her to read for herself.

"I don't have any magical powers," she said after reading the definition.

"Lady Sara, Queen of the Cat Kingdom did," I said.

"Don't be silly. She wasn't a real person."

"She was realer than the new Lady Sara. I bet she would have known how to spell mojo."

"I'm under a lot of stress. The spelling bee is tomorrow. I have to win to prove to everyone that I am as big of a star as Autumn is."

"The old Sara wouldn't be worried about it. She could care less about what anyone thought. She would just go out there in her cat outfit and spell every word without blinking an eye. God made you made you who you are for a reason. Some people might call you weird, but they're not in the finals of the county spelling bee either. You're trying to be someone that you're not. That's why you're having trouble learning these words. Lady Sara is the Queen of the Cat Kingdom. She's not a diva. You've got to be yourself, Sara."

"That sounds like Shakespeare. To thine own self be true," she said."

"Huh?"

"That's from Hamlet."

"What's Hamlet?"

"It's like my dad says when a referee makes a call he doesn't agree with. No matter what happens, you still have to look yourself in the mirror when you shave."

I was beginning to think that Sara was too far gone for me to help. What was she talking about? I don't shave! Before I could ask, however, the bell rang signifying that it was time to return to class. Despite the interruption from the bell, I think I might have made some progress. Her accent was missing when she said that she would talk to me later. I could only hope for the best. In the meantime, I had another matter to resolve.

Chapter Fourteen: Bradford's Most Wanted

Only a week ago, it didn't seem like anything could go right. I had lost my best friend forever, I wasn't getting anywhere in my investigation, and I was questioning my purpose in the overall scheme of things. The words of encouragement from Mrs. Barnes had given me a new perspective and a new direction. I was now radiating with positive energy. I could hardly wait for the next day to catch the Doodle Soup thief. I wasn't going to do it to become rich and famous. I was going to do it because it was my destiny. Before I could fulfill my destiny, I had to clear up the lone, dark cloud that threatened my future.

I was still haunted by the confrontations with Autumn. I hated that our friendship ended the way it did. She had hurt my feelings with some of the things she said, but that was no excuse for me being mean to her. In a way, she did me a favor. I began to rethink my goals and motivations. I wanted to lead a life free from the desire of fortune and fame like Pastor Thomas preached about, but didn't know how to proceed. Thank goodness for Mrs. Barnes pointing me in the right direction. Now that everything seemed to be going great for me, I wanted to right all wrongs from my past. I couldn't worry about a subpoena for the rest of my life. I had to turn myself in for signing my name as Serina K. instead of Serina Moore on my homework.

Instead of going home after school to make sure Suzy was put up before Mr. McCarthy delivered the mail, I walked to the police station. I hoped Suzy wouldn't create another ruckus, but wasn't counting on it. Oh well. Mr. McCarthy had forgiven me before. Hopefully, he would again. I think he would understand given the circumstances. This was something I had to do.

"What can I do for you?" the receptionist at the police station asked.

"I'd like to speak with Sheriff Daniels," I said.

"He's in a meeting right now. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I'd like to turn myself in."

"Turn yourself in?"

"I've been signing Serina K. on my homework."

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Serina K. Moore," I answered.

"Why do you think you're in trouble for signing your own name on your homework?"

"It's a long story. To tell you the truth, I'm kind of embarrassed about the whole situation. I'd rather tell Sheriff Daniels myself. He's a friend of my dad's. I don't want him to hear about it from someone else."

"Have a seat. I'll let him know that you're here. He should be out of the meeting in a few minutes."

I took a seat on a bench a few feet from the receptionist's desk. I sat down beside a man who was handcuffed to the bench. The man didn't look very old. He looked younger than my dad. I wondered to myself what he did to get himself in such a predicament before I finally got the nerve to ask.

"Psst," I whispered. "What are you in here for?"

"Shoplifting," he answered.

"Shoplifting?"

"I had my eye on a watch at the mall for quite a while before I finally decided to buy it. I reached in my pocket for my wallet to pay for it at the register, but it wasn't there. I had left my wallet at home. I didn't figure it would hurt anything if I wore it home and came back later with my wallet. The next thing I know, I'm riding in the back of a police car."

My heart went out to the man. He made one little mistake and will now have to spend the rest of his life busting blocks. It didn't seem fair, but that's exactly what Pastor Thomas preached about. The man was so obsessed with the watch that he forgot to pay for it. The watch became the focus of his mind instead of God.

To help console him somewhat, I explained my theory of window shopping. After months of window shopping, I usually decide that I don't need something anyway. Not only will it help you save money, but it will also keep you out of jail if you forget your wallet. I left out the part about how the cycle repeats itself. After I change my mind about an item I've been fixated on, something else grabs my attention until I decide don't need it either.

The man thanked me for the advice. He said that he had never thought of it like that before. Hopefully, the judge will go easy on him and he won't have to bust blocks all his life. Maybe he'll get out of jail and help others make changes in their lives. The thought of my speech to him having that large of an impact made me proud. For a moment, I thought that I should become a philosopher like my dad. Before the thought could plant roots, the receptionist notified me that the sheriff's meeting was over. It was now time for me to plead my case.

"How are you today, Serina?" Sheriff Daniels asked when I walked into his office.

"I'm doing ok, but I've got some bad news. I'm here to pick up my subpoena."

"Huh?"

I told him the story about signing Serina K. on my homework and that I learned that a person must go to court to legally change their name. I also told him about the trouble with Suzy and Mr. McCarthy, my spat with Autumn, and about some of the issues I've faced during the investigation of the time capsule break-in"

"I'm just tired of running. I don't want to end up busting blocks for the rest of my life like that guy outside."

"What guy outside?"

"The guy that I was talking to who was arrested for shoplifting."

"He'll get some jail time, but he won't be busting blocks for the rest of his life."

"That's good to hear. He seemed like a nice guy. I still hate that he has to go to jail just because he forgot his wallet."

"He seemed to forget his wallet at five other stores too," Sheriff Daniels said.

"Wow. I didn't know that he had forgotten his wallet that many times. Has he got like amnesia or something?"

"His mental faculties are perfectly fine," he said. "Let's talk about your dilemma."

I won't have to spend any time in jail, will I?"

"As long as it's not a legal document, you can sign your name anyway that you want to. That is, of course, as long as the school doesn't have a problem with it."

"They haven't said anything so far. I only started signing my name as Serina K. so I wouldn't get confused with the other girl named Serina at my school."

"I think everyone in Bradford knows who Serina K. is," he joked.

"I'm not trying to be famous or anything. I just want to make a difference in people's lives."

"You've definitely brightened my day, Serina. No one has ever come into the police station requesting a subpoena before. I wish everyone was as forthcoming as you."

"Am I free to go?"

"You're free to go."

"One more thing," I said as I was walking out of his office. "Have you figured out who broke into the time capsule?"

"Unfortunately, we haven't. We've had a few suspects, but nothing panned out. I heard that you had taken up the cause. As a matter of fact, I sent one of my officers out to investigate the traffic jam at the elementary school a few weeks ago. When he came back, he said that a couple of kids were asking everyone their whereabouts the night of the break-in. I'm guessing the couple of kids were you and Sara. Have you got any information that might help with the case?"

"I haven't got anything concrete, but I've got a feeling that it was someone in the Doodle Soup contest. I hope to be able to prove it tomorrow."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Stay tuned. If I'm right, you'll need to be there to arrest them."

He looked at me suspiciously and said, "Promise me you'll try not to create too much commotion."

"Don't worry. I have a plan," I said.

"That's what worries me," he said.

Chapter Fifteen: Pay Dirt

I considered the day a success. The last few weeks had been pretty hectic. With all of the adversity that I had faced the past few weeks, things were finally starting to return to normal. Actually, they were better than before. I had a new outlook on life. I wasn't sure if I still wanted to be a chef, scientist, or a veterinarian anymore. I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to do. It felt good to help Sara and that guy at the police station. It would be neat to be a philosopher, counselor, or something like that. Mrs. Barnes had told me not to worry about it and leave my future to God. So far, her advice seemed to be working. Things were going great. For the moment, I just wanted to savor my good fortune.

After I returned home, I went upstairs to collect my metal detector and headed out into the field behind my house. Even though I had no desire to become rich and famous any longer, hunting for treasure in the field provided me with a sense of serenity. Even though I hadn't found any treasure yet, I enjoyed the nostalgia that came along with the junk I found. For instance, I learned that whoever buried the old coffee can that I used for my Social Studies project preferred their coffee decaffeinated.

I often wonder what life must have been like in the old days. Besides the coffee can, I've found old soup and soda cans. Although they're rusty and covered in dirt, the cans were in someone's kitchen cabinet at one time. I wonder who they were and what they are doing now. Sometimes, I just wish I could go back in time to teach them how to recycle.

Like most days, I wasn't having much luck finding any treasures. I swept the metal detector back and forth across the landscape, while Suzy embarked on an adventure of his own. I watched in wonder as he ran aimlessly with his nose to the ground. He would stop every now and then as if he had found what he was looking for only to turn around and run in the direction he just came from. His K9-like beak finally led him to some bushes at the edge of the field. He sniffed out a couple of wild rabbits from some bushes and chased them across the field. Unfortunately for him, Suzy was no match for the rabbits. The rabbits quickly disappeared into the woods. Seemingly giving up, Suzy galloped back in my direction. He ran past me and nearly tackled Autumn when he reached her.

"I thought I'd find you here," she said as Suzy licked away at her.

Autumn and I had spent countless hours in the field searching for treasure. There were many times that we would stay until it got dark and lie in field gazing at the stars. Autumn knew that this was my favorite place to relax and wind down. I was happy to see her, but surprised as well.

"I wasn't searching for something to make me famous," I insisted. "I've given that up. I was just hoping to find some nostalgia. I got distracted by Suzy for a little while. He was busy harassing a couple of rabbits before he spotted you. He sure is happy to see you."

"I've missed you too, Suzy," she said as she pat him on his belly. "I came by to say goodbye," she said to me.

"Goodbye?"

"We're going back to Chicago tomorrow morning."

"Are you not going to stay for the Doodle Soup festival?"

"Mom said that she has to be back by noon tomorrow for a meeting with the investors of the company."

"What about the missing recipe? Aren't you going to stay until it's found?"

"Mom said something about having to meet a deadline. I wanted to come by and say goodbye before we leave. I've been feeling bad every since I talked to you at the softball tournament. I was really mean to you and Sara"

"I said some pretty mean things too," I said.

"I was just so happy to see you that day at the school that I became jealous of your friendship with Sara," she explained. "I wish she was here with you so I could apologize to her. I hope she doesn't hate me."

"I think she respects you more than she'll ever admit. Her feelings were hurt for a little while, but I think she's going to bounce back."

"I hope so. What about you? Will you ever forgive me?"

"Actually, I think everything was meant to happen the way that it did. When I thought that I'd lost my best friend forever, I began to doubt myself and question my purpose in life. Pastor Thomas and Mrs. Barnes provided me with a new direction and helped me regain my confidence. There was just one thing missing, but now I've finally got my best friend back."

We gave each other a big hug and promised that we would be friends forever. We vowed to never let anything come between us again. We laughed and reminisced about old times as we walked across the field and watched Suzy hunt down another family of rabbits. Suddenly, my metal detector began to vibrate.

"It's probably just another old can," I said turning the metal detector off.

"Might as well check it out," she said. "You never know when you might get lucky and find a buried treasure."

She was right. I would never be able to find the spot again if I didn't dig it up now. If there was a buried treasure there, I'd never forgive myself if I passed it by. The only problem was that I didn't have anything to dig it up with. I didn't bring my shovel with me. Suzy quickly provided a solution to my problem.

Suzy began digging feverishly at the spot where my metal detector had indicated the unknown treasure was. Whatever was buried there, it had Suzy's undivided attention. I was beginning to think that it might be an old dog food can. I had seen him dig like that to bury and hide his food that he was saving for later, but I had never seen him work so hard to dig something back up. Come to think of it, I've never seen him dig anything back up. He usually forgets where he buries his food. In a matter of minutes, though, I began to see fragments of the object. Knowing that he would probably claim the treasure for himself and run off with it once he finished digging, I moved him out of the way and finished digging with my hands. Once I got it loose, I pulled the object free from the remaining earth that covered it. When I shook the dirt off of it to reveal its identity, I could not believe my eyes.

"What is it?" Autumn asked.

"The discovery of a lifetime," I answered.

Chapter Sixteen: Doodle Soup Days

Autumn and I decide not to reveal our discovery until the Doodle Soup festival. Since the festival was supposedly to be swamped with reporters, it would be the ideal place and time to reveal it to the world. Although Autumn would be back in Chicago at the time of the unveiling, the waves from the discovery would flow to Lake Michigan and reach Chicago in no time. The treasure would have a huge impact on both of our futures.

I could hardly wait for the festival to begin. I went to bed early that night so I wouldn't have to keep on waiting. All of the excitement had me beat anyway. Although I slept like a bear in hibernation, I woke up bright and early around 6 a.m. That's usually around the same time I get up and ready for school during the week, but I usually try to sleep in on the weekends. Most of the activities started at 8 a.m., so I had time to get a shower and eat breakfast with my dad before heading out.

By the time I got there, a small crowd had already started to form. The events would last all day and conclude with a bluegrass street dance after dark. The first event was the spelling bee. It was already in progress when I arrived. I spotted Sara awaiting her turn. It looked like she took my advice as she had abandoned the diva look in favor of her Queen of the Cat Kingdom attire.

The contestants battled for over an hour. Eventually all were eliminated except Sara and a girl from Milan Elementary School. After a back and forth battle that seemed like an eternity, the girl from Milan finally misspelled a word. This meant that Sara would be declared the winner if she spelled the next word correctly.

I crossed my fingers in hopes that Sara would spell the next word right. The next word was meow. I knew that good things would come once Sara started being herself and having faith in her abilities. I was so proud of her. In a few moments, she would be the county champion. There was no way she could miss that word. After all, she was the Queen of the Cat Kingdom.

"Can you use the word in a sentence?" Sara asked the moderator, Mrs. Collins, our English teacher.

"The cat goes meow when it is hungry," Mrs. Collins said.

"M-e-o-w-w-w," said Sara.

"The correct spelling is m-e-o-w," Mrs. Collins announced.

I couldn't believe Sara missed such an easy word. I wondered to myself if the crown she was wearing as part of her Lady Sara getup was squeezed too tight on her head. As I stood in shock at Sara's blunder, Mrs. Collins began to introduce the next word to the contestant from Milan.

"I spelled it right!" Sara interrupted.

"The correct spelling of the word is m-e-o-w," Mrs. Collins said again.

I felt bad for Sara. I didn't like seeing her embarrassed like this. Hoping to stop her before she made a further spectacle of herself, I began walking to the stage to console her. Unfortunately, I didn't quite reach her in time.

"I did spell it right!" she insisted. "When my cats are hungry, they go meowww. When they simply meow, that just means they're saying hello to you. If you don't believe me, come over my house and I'll show you."

"That's the same thing my cat does when she's hungry," Sara's opponent from Milan said.

"My cat does that too," a spectator from the crowd shouted.

"Mine too," another observer yelled.

After several more people in the crowd came to Sara's defense, Mrs. Collins stepped off the stage to confer with the judges. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but could tell that they were struggling to reach a decision. Each of the three judges was frantically flipping through different versions of dictionaries. It was evident by the way they shook their heads that they weren't finding what they were looking for. Although Sara had a good case, it didn't look good.

After about five minutes, Mrs. Collins made her way back to the podium. She announced that Sara and the girl from Milan Elementary School were the co-champions of the county spelling bee. I watched proudly as Sara hugged her opponent after the announcement was made. She didn't mind the fact that she had to share the championship. This was her moment in the sun. No one would call her weird again. If they did, she wouldn't care. She was Lady Sara, Queen of the Cat Kingdom and Co-Champion of the County Spelling Bee.

The crowd had multiplied by the end of the spelling bee. There was an aroma of food being grilled coming from several of the concessions stands. The smell of Doodle Soup also filled the air from the pavilion where the contestants in the Doodle Soup competition were preparing their brew. The aroma that caught my attention the most was the scent of funnel cakes. If I have one weakness, it's a fresh funnel cake. Sara's victory was just the excuse I needed to spoil myself. I bought both of us a funnel cake and cola to celebrate her victory.

As we were enjoying our celebration, I heard someone calling my name. I looked over my shoulder to see Mrs. Barnes waving me to the pavilion. I wiped the powdered sugar that covered my hands onto my shirt and told Sara that we would do this again later after Suzy wins the dog show.

It was standing room only inside the pavilion. Sheriff Daniels met me at the entrance and ushered me to the judges' table. I gazed upon the crowd and saw Mr. Brady and Mr. McCarthy anxiously waiting for the contest to begin. The void created by Mrs. Doyle's absence had created an enormous amount of curiosity. It looked like everyone in town was there to witness the crowning of a new Doodle Soup champion.

I had been waiting for this moment since Mrs. Barnes informed me of the opportunity. I had watched a few wine tasting events on the Food Network in preparation. Now, it was show time.

Mrs. Hunter was the first contestant. It was a little awkward having to judge her soup because I knew her from church where she plays piano, but I had a job to do. Being sure to keep personal feelings aside, I did not look at her or speak to her when I dipped my spoon into her pot of soup. Although I knew most of the contestants somewhat, I had to keep it professional.

I moved the spoonful of soup up to my nose before tasting. It smelled delicious. After teasing my senses, I moved the ladle to my mouth find out if it tasted as good as it smelled. It was a little spicier than I was accustomed to, but was very good nonetheless. Although Mrs. Hunter's soup was very tasty, it didn't taste anything like Mrs. Doyle's. Mrs. Hunter definitely didn't steal the recipe.

Using what I'd learned from watching the wine tasting events on the Food Network, I swirled the soup around in my mouth and spat it in a Styrofoam cup at my side. "Kind of spicy, but very good," I commented before moving on to the next contestant, Mrs. Robertson.

Mrs. Hunter must have had an emergency. She abruptly left her seat and didn't return after I tasted her soup. I hoped she wasn't sick. If she was, it must have been contagious. Mrs. Robertson left as soon as I finished tasting her soup as well.

After tasting Mrs. Robertson's soup, Mrs. Barnes told me that I didn't have to spit the soup out when I tasted it. I was glad she changed the rules. I didn't understand why I was supposed to spit it out anyway. That's like throwing a funnel cake away after you just paid for it with the money you made by selling cucumbers. They do some weird stuff on the Food Network sometimes. I guess those chefs on TV become a little eccentric after they become famous. That's just another example of what fame will do to a person. I sure am glad I decided that I didn't want to be famous anymore.

As good as all of the different versions of Doodle soup tasted, I could probably wait until next year before I tasted any more. Mrs. Riggs, Scotty's grandmother, was declared the winner by unanimous decision. Her soup was the best I'd had since the last time I had Mrs. Doyle's. However, it was not Mrs. Doyle's. In fact, it didn't taste anything like Mrs. Doyle's. Neither did anyone else's.

"I got to give you credit. That was an ingenious plan," Sheriff Daniels said. "How did you manage to get on the panel of judges?"

"I got friends in high places," I joked.

"I take it none of the soups tasted like Mrs. Doyle's."

"No. The person who stole the recipe wasn't one of the contestants, but I didn't expect it to be one of them."

"Huh? That's not what you said the other day in my office."

"There's been some new evidence that has shed light on the case. The thief is here at the festival."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't have time to explain. I have to get Suzy ready for the dog show."

I left the sheriff scratching his head as I ran home to get Suzy. If my instincts were right, the thief would still be there when I got back. He probably thought he was going to get off scott free since I had concentrated my investigation on the contestants in the soup contest. Like any crook, his ego would demand that he hang around until the festival was over. In his mind, he would be pulling a fast one on the entire town of Bradford. He would be in for a rude awakening. He'd be busting blocks in jail before the night was through.

Chapter Seventeen: Case Closed

Suzy was psyched for the dog show. He dragged me the whole way from our house back to the festival. Once we got there, he settled down and performed a meet and greet with all of the other contestants. He acted excited and wagged his tail as he let the other dog owners pet him, but it was all just a ruse. While he appeared to be just a friendly dog, he was actually scouting the competition. After he was finished scouting, he let out a sigh and lay down on his side. He didn't seem impressed. I wasn't impressed either. Most of the owners had dressed their dog in some kind of silly costume. With all the dogs dressed in their funny looking outfits, he should have been a shoo-in to win with his au natural look.

I had to nudge Suzy to wake him up when it was his turn to model for the crowd. While I walked Suzy through various poses, I spied Mr. McCarthy talking to a reporter in the crowd. I knew what was going to happen when Suzy spotted him. It was inevitable. The lackluster dog show was about to get some excitement injected in it.

He spotted Mr. McCarthy as soon as he finished his poses. He locked eyes with his enemy and growled for a moment before making his move. I was unable to contain him with the leash when he left for battle. The handle of the leash burned my hand as it slid through my fingers. Suzy dashed from the stage into the crowd and made a beeline for Mr. McCarthy. Before I could even get off the stage, Suzy had tackled Mr. McCarthy and was standing atop his chest once again.

Suzy's eyes were focused on the mailman's neck when I reached the scene. His teeth were clenched menacingly as if he were daring Mr. McCarthy to move. Not knowing what to think, the crowd shrieked in fear. No one dared approach Suzy to rescue Mr. McCarthy. Even though his anger was directed at Mr. McCarthy, he sounded like a mad dog that was liable to do anything. Although he knew him from all the times he had been over to the house to talk to Dad, Sheriff Daniels was even hesitant to approach Suzy. Hoping to diffuse the situation quickly, I grabbed the handle of the leash from the ground and yanked Suzy off of him.

"Arrest this man," I said to Sheriff Daniels. He is the thief that stole Mrs. Doyle's Doodle Soup recipe."

"Arrest me?" I should have you arrested for assault!" Mr. McCarthy bellowed. "After all the times I've overlooked that dog attacking me, you're going to accuse me of being a thief?

"Serina, this has gone far enough. I warned you not to cause any trouble. You need to take Suzy home and put him up," Sheriff Daniels said.

I pulled the tattered pocket of Mr. McCarthy's mailbag from my pocket and handed to the sheriff. "This is all the evidence you'll need. Inside that is a Ziploc bag containing the $2.28 that was stolen from the time capsule along with Mrs. Doyle's recipe. You'll find that it matches up exactly with what I deposited in the time capsule last year. It's been buried in the field behind my house ever since Suzy tore it from his mailbag a few days after the break-in."

"Oh, I forgot about that. I found the Ziploc bag on the school grounds while I was cleaning up at the school the day after the break-in, Mr. McCarthy explained. "I read in the paper that it belonged to you. I figured that you might want it back, so I put it in my mailbag to give back to you when I dropped your mail off. I never had a chance to give it back. Suzy attacked me and tore my mailbag. I was so disoriented that I forgot all about it."

"You should have turned that over to the police," Sheriff Daniels said to Mr. McCarthy. "Nevertheless, it makes sense. I'm sorry about all this."

"Sorry? Are you not going to arrest him?" I asked.

"Mr. McCarthy is a public servant. You can't go around accusing everyone, Serina."

"What about the evidence?"

"His story is believable. At this point, the only evidence that would suffice would be the actual recipe itself. I'm only going to tell you one more time. Take Suzy home and put him up. You'll be lucky if Mr. McCarthy doesn't press charges."

"You might try searching the music class for the recipe. I saw him hide it behind some ceiling tiles."

"That's ridiculous," Mr. McCarthy said with a salesman-like smile.

"He was just telling me about a new soup company he was starting in Florida," the reporter he had been talking to earlier said.

"Maybe you should come with us as we go check out the music class," Sheriff Daniels said to Mr. McCarthy.

As Sheriff Daniel and a few deputies led Mr. McCarthy to the school, the festivities resumed and everything returned to normal. I was sitting at a picnic table enjoying another funnel cake when the announcement was made that Mr. McCarthy had been arrested for the theft of Mrs. Doyle's recipe. It would be revealed later in the Bradford Gazette that Mr. McCarthy wasn't even his real name. He never worked for the Post Office in Florida either. His whole identity was a ruse. He had heard about the recipe buried in the time capsule and thought that it would be his ticket to riches.

After the announcement was made, cheers erupted throughout the crowd. Ignoring the applause and crowd adoration, I continued to eat my funnel cake.

"How did you know it was Mr. McCarthy?" Lady Sara asked as she sat down beside me.

"Elementary, my dear Sara. He gave himself away. He said that he was changing a light bulb when we approached him at the school, but the light was already on. We saw it all the way from the ball park. Then, he talked about how Mrs. Doyle's soup was the best in the world. He just moved here from Florida. He wouldn't have any idea what Mrs. Doyle's soup tasted like. The mailbag was the icing on the cake."

"Suzy was instrumental as well," I continued. "I should have known better than to try and bribe him. The dog biscuits didn't have anything to do with Suzy liking Mr. Kelly. He considered Mr. Kelly a friend. He knew Mr. McCarthy was rotten from the get-go."

"Congratulations," Autumn said as she sat down beside Sara.

"I thought you left for Chicago," I said bewilderedly.

"We were all packed and ready to go last night, but Mom changed her mind after I told her about finding the stolen change from the time capsule. I begged her to let us stay, but she didn't need that much convincing. She said that she was tired of running across the country to meet someone else's deadlines. If anyone is going to set deadlines, she said that it would be her since it's her company. She decided to move her company to Bradford. Bradford is the Doodle Soup capital of the world after all."

The case of the missing Doodle Soup recipe was solved and I had my two best friends in the whole world at my side. On top of that, I still had some of the funnel cake left. This must have been the paradise that Mr. Brady spoke of.

"Friends 'til the end," I said.

"Nothing will come between the three of us again, Autumn said.

"We'll stick together like peanut butter and jelly," said Sara.

"Like peanut butter and jelly," Autumn and I agreed.

The End

Thank you for reading _Serina K. and the Case of the Missing Recipe_. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer. Your reviews will help bring exposure to Serina K. as well as let me know if you enjoyed my work. If you haven't already, be sure to check out _Introducing Serina K., Ph.D. and Future Famous Person_. If you really liked Serina K.'s adventures, be on the lookout for a brand new adventure in mid-2015.

Thanks!

Brad G. Moore

About the Author

Brad G. Moore gained his love for reading at an early age when his older sister introduced him to Margret and H.A. Rey's classic character, Curious George. Although he is an avid mystery fan, his greatest influences as a writer are John D. Fitzgerald's _The Great Brain_ , Keith Robertson's _Henry Reed_ , and Beverly Cleary's _Ramona_. The character Serina K. and her fantastic exploits is based on the real adventures of his youngest daughter, Serina. Mr. Moore now resides in Bradford, TN.

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Introducing Serina K, Ph.D. and Future Famous Person

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