It was my best friend Luke's idea to form our own detective agency, inspired
by the shows we loved watching together. We lived on Brook Street in a
small town in Oregon, so we called ourselves the brook Street Sleuths. We
advertised our services on the community board in Elmer's Market, which usually cost twenty
five cents a week, but mister Elmer kindly allowed it for free. We
worked on various cases in the space of a month or so over one summer.
Who's been taking the blackberries from Miss Jacob's brambles? Solved almost everyone who
passed by? And lots of chipmunks? What made the small hole in Lowery's
front yard solved a chipmunk? Yeah, we had an abundance of chipmunks in
town, but not all the mysteries involved the little critters. They were clearly
not miss Is to the adults who hired us. But the best thing about
living in that kind of community was the willingness of our neighbors to contribute to
our idea of fun. Luke and I were rewarded with many sodas and candy
bars for our sleuthing skills. Despite our success rate, the brook Street Sleuths
was a short lived agency. Our last ever case began with a very real
mystery, where is mister Page's dog? Frank Page was a retired widower and
happened to be my next door neighbor. His dog, Milo, a Yorkie,
was what Frank referred to as a pain in the proverbial. Milo was
an expert escape artist. It was always getting out of the yard and causing
mischief in town, but would usually come back home with his tail wagging after
an hour or two. One evening we could hear calling for Milow from the
doorstep. He had escaped as per, but it had been several hours and
he still hadn't returned. My dad offered to drive around the neighborhood to look
for him, but had no luck. The next morning, I helped Frank
make a missing poster. We stuck a photograph of Marlow and a sheet of
paper using a glue stick, and I neatly wrote the details underneath in black
marker, as dictated by Frank. Then we went to Elmer's Market to use
the photocopier and made ten copies. It should have cost us a dollar,
but mister Elmer said there was no charge and wished us luck in finding him.
Frank bought me a kola as a thank you. You're a good kid,
Ricky, he said, patting my back. I could hear he was
upset. We'll find him, mister Page, I said, The brook Street
sleuths are on the case. He chuckled. He's a piece of work,
but I'd be lost without him. I'll go knock for Luke just as soon
as we've put up these posters. We left one on the board in Elma's,
then stood the remaining posters on telegraph poles earned the two bus shelters in
town. I asked Frank if I could keep hold of the original photograph of
Milo. That way I could show it to the local residents during our investigation.
Before I knocked for Luke, I went back home to tell my parents.
Don't wonder too far, Ricky said, Mom, and stay out of
the woods. I don't like the thoughts of you boys and there alone.
There was a woodland area that lined the back of town. I absolutely planned
on looking in there. I told my mom I wouldn't though, of course.
I grabbed my bike and rode to Luke's to fill them in on the
details. We rode around town and knocked on doors asking if they'd seen my
Low. It was mostly unsuccessful, but one lady had some potentially useful information
now that I think about it, she said on a doorstep, I did
see a little dog significant around the brambles and Maple Road yesterday. Thank you,
ma'am, said Luke. We discussed it as we retrieved our bikes from
the end of the driveway. There are two houses on Maple Road with brambles
in the yard, he said, Miss Jacobs, I said, and the
Deans. Why did it have to be the Deans. The Dean family were
not known for their one community spirit, especially the oldest son, Tommy.
He was a senior and notorious troublemaker who had caused Luke and I a lot
of grief. The family also had a much bigger, meaner dog that would
probably treat Marlow as a snack. We will go to Miss Jacob's house first,
said Luke. If we're lucky, we won't have to go to the
Deans at all. We left our bikes on the sidewalk and knocked on Miss
Jacob's door. Well, she said, warmly, if it isn't the Brook
Street sleuths, Hello, Miss Jacobs. We said in unison, what can
I do for you? Boys? We're looking for my neighbor, mister Page's
dog, I said, showing the other photo. He went missing yesterday afternoon.
Oh no, she said, I'm familiar. I sometimes see him in
the yard by the brambles, but I haven't seen him for days. Thank
you anyway, Miss Jacobs said, Luke, of course, she said,
I'll keep my eye out. Oh and help yourselves to blackberries. As we
walked down Miss Jacob's pathway, we looked at each other with concern, knowing
we now had to visit the Deans. We took the opportunity to eat a
view of the ripened berries before braving it, then wheeling our bikes to their
house. The yard was in as kempt as the others in the neighborhood.
It was overgrown and there were scraps of metal from various vehicles darted around like
a junkyard. We slowly walked up the path. As soon as we knocked
on the door, they came loud barking from inside that made us jump,
followed by shouting. The door flew open and mister Dean was standing there holding
back their monster of a dog. By the collar, were just barking at
us like crazy. Shut the hell up, he yelled down at it.
It quiet and down, but growled under its breath. What do you want,
oh, sir, I stuttered. We're asking around to see if anyone
has seen my neighbor's dog. I took out the photo he went missing yesterday.
But what makes you think I had anything to do with it? He
snapped. It's not like that, Sir, said Luke. We're just asking
if you've seen him, that's all. He sometimes wonders around the neighborhood.
Who do you think you are? He said, Clombo or something. Luke
and I turned to each other like it had been a bad idea. I'm
sorry to have bothered you, Sir, I said, turning to leave.
Believe me, he said, if that rat had been anywhere near here,
Caine would have sorted it out. The dog started barking again, and we
hurried back down the path. I don't want to see you boys and my
property again, he yelled after us. I won't hold him back next time,
he laughed loudly. As we quickly rode away, my heart beating hard.
We stopped around the corner to catch our breath. Then we started to
laugh uncomfortably. God, I hate that family, said Luke. We heard
the roar of an engine, and a ross bucket of a car came hurtling
around the corner, its tires screeching on the road. It was Tommy Dean
behind the wheel. When he noticed Luke and I, he gave us the
finger and sped away out of sight. So suspicious, I said, but
maybe too obvious? Luke shrugged. They're assholes. But I think we need
to investigate more first, when it felt like we'd exhausted all avenues in town,
I suggested we look in the woods. Luke was apprehensive, as like
me, he was forbidden from the woods without an adult. But it seemed
logical that a dog would be drawn to the woods, especially with all the
chipmunks the chase. If we do find Milo there, I said, we'll
just pretend we found him someplace that won't get us in trouble. We looked
around for an hour or so, shouting Milo's name from time to time.
He got to the point where we figured if Milow was somewhere he could hear
us, he would have made himself known by now. Before we left.
We both confessed in kneading the bathroom badly, so we went in opposite directions
to find a secluded spot to pea. Rickie, I heard Luke's scream after
a few minutes, I quickly finished and retrieved my bike. Where are you,
I yelled, my nerves on edge. Over here, I saw him
standing in a small clearing and rushed over. What is it? I asked,
out of breath. He didn't answer. Luke had found what looked like
the sight of a sacrificial ritual. There were strange symbols drawn on to several
tree trunks, and what appeared to be blood. In the center was a
slab of stone with a chalked drawing of three triangles, all pointing the same
way but overlapping each other. In the center of that was a severed animal
paw. It had the same auburn colored fur as Milo's. Oh my god,
I said quietly. I really want to leave now, said Luke in
an almous whisper. I nodded, yeah, come on. As I went
to pick up my bike, I saw a small satchel sitting by a log
I walked over to it. Luke, spotting it too, leave it,
Rickie. He said, it's evidence I said, about to pick it up,
but then I remembered not to contaminate it. I used the stick to
lift the flap open and peek inside. There was a pack of cigarettes and
some school textbooks. Senior biology and math student. I said. I found
a large leaf and used it to cover my fingertips, opening the first page
of the biology book written in pencil in the top right corner Tommy Dean.
A shiver went through me as I told Luke. We got on our bikes
and rode like the wind, heading straight to the Sheriff's office. We burst
in and both started yelling whoa fellas said Deputy Campbell from behind his desk,
garm yourselves now, what seems to be the problem. We explained everything,
and I were escorted back to the woods to show the deputy what we had
found. Sweet Mother of Jesus, he said, calling it in. It
was a search conducted at the Dean's house. Inside Tommy's bedroom, they not
only found an ancient book of the occult containing the very symbols found at the
scene, but also Milo's color. Apparently, he protested his innocence as they
took him in for questioning. I heard all of this through the walls as
my parents talked about it that night, having been banished to my room or
mister Page was devastated. The disturbing nature of it rocked our sleepy community.
But Luke and I were commended for our help in the investigation. We both
received honorary badges from the Sheriff's department, making us feel like real investigators.
After a couple of days, Miss Jacobs required our services again. My mom
was reluctant for me to carry on Plaine detective, as she called it,
but my dad talked her around. Luke and I went to visit Miss Jacobs
late afternoon and were greeted by a wonderful smell. Take a seat, boys,
she said, I begged you a BlackBerry pie call let her thank you
for your services to the community. Thanks, Miss Jacobs, we both said
together, excitedly, sitting in the dining table where a warm pie sat in
the center. She cut two slices and plaited them up, handing us one
each by an appetite. She smiled, taking a seat as we started talking
into the delicious pie. Well done on your investigation. That must have been
quite a shock discovering such a gruesome scene Luke nodded. It was scary.
It wasn't it ricky? Yeah, I agreed, But we handled it like
professionals. She chuckled. I'm sure you did. I always knew that Tommy
Dean was a rotten apple. I can't help but wonder what it was all
for, though, Why sacrifice that little dog? We looked at each other
and shrugged. With mouthfuls of pie. And those symbols, What did they
mean? My dad said it was devil worship, said Luke. I'm sure
he's right, She said, to think I'd only seen that poor dog a
few hours before Tommy took him. I can't help but think I could have
done something to help. You couldn't have known, miss Jacobs, I said,
it's not your fault. She patted my hand. Thank goodness, you
hero has found those school books of his had the scene. Imagine what else
he could have done if it weren't for you, I tried to think.
Luke and I looked at each other and smiled with pride. Excuse me a
moment, she said, I'll be right back. We're heroes, I chuckled.
When she'd left the room. We found the villain and saved the day.
Luke giggled. As we kept tucking in. I couldn't help but feel
like something wasn't quite right. Then it hit me, Wait, didn't Miss
Jacobs say she hadn't seen Milo for a few days when we were investigating.
He shrugged, Yeah so, but she just said she saw him a few
hours before Tommy took him. His brow furrowed. Oh yeah, she's an
old lady, though, Ricky, my grandma is very forgetful. I contemplated
it, but it still didn't feel right. My eyes widened. The Sheriff's
department didn't release the evidence, I said, quietly, how did she know
about the books? Luke's eyes widened to match mine. As Miss Jacobs came
back into the room, Well you look at that, she said, you've
almost finished your pie. Let me cut you another slice. No, I
said, clearing my throat. It was delicious, but very filling, Very
well, she smiled, let me take this dish away. Then when she
lifted the pie dish, Luke and I both stared in horror. Scratched in
the wooden table with three triangles overlapping each other. Oh yes, she said,
there was a mystery of you. To solve a mystery ingredient. I
wonder if you've got the detective skills to work it out. Luke looked at
me like he was about to cry, and I felt exactly the same.
He coughed a little and put his fingers to his mouth, pulling something out.
What is it, Luke, she said. He covered his mouth like
he was about to puke. Hair clue number one, she said, and
you ricky, I shook my head. We'd like to leave now, Miss
Jacobs, nonsense, she said. She took my plate away and put the
pie dish in front of me. Go on, have a look. I
looked at Luke, who was clearly terrified. My hands were shaking as I
picked up the fork and pulled pieces of pastry away. As I searched the
thick, dark purple filling my fork made a clink sound. I picked it
out with my fingers. I could instantly feel what it was, a long
canine tooth. I threw it across the table and pushed myself back, grabbing
Luke's arm as we made a run for the door. It slammed shut,
and the light that had been coming through the windows dimmed. The symbol on
the table began to glow as if it was drawn in embers. Luke and
I had her arms around each other as we sniveled, not being able to
comprehend what was happening. Miss Jacob smiled from across the room, her hair
flowing as if caught in a breeze. What are your findings, she asked.
The brook Street sleuths must be able to figure it out. You killed
my low, I shouted, and the thought of it made me sick.
Bravo, she clapped, Make the sacrifice, feed the innocent. But why,
screamed Luke. I am far older than any human should be. She
cackled, that takes a bit of dark magic to maintain. She grabbed Luke
and I tried to pull him away from her, but with a flick of
her hand, I was forced against the wall. She threw him down onto
the symbol, and he screamed out as smoke began to rise around him.
It burns, He screamed in pain. Leave him alone, I cried,
but she turned to me. The features that made her Miss Jacobs faded,
revealing something ancient and decayed. Blue skin hung from visible bones, empty sockets,
whispy strands of hair, teeth surrounded by split leathery gums, your next
ricky, she yelled, deep in demonic. Her mouth opened wide, and
she took Luke's whole head inside. His arms and legs began to kick about
as I could hear muffled groans coming from inside her. There were snapping sounds
as part of a dislocated like a snake to swallow him hole. Before long,
his shoulders could no longer be seen. She made greedy gut her own
noises as she forced his body down her throat. I was paralyzed against the
wall, forced to watch as my best friend was eaten alive. I could
feel my mind snapping like her ancient bones. Luke's legs were still kicking as
she reached his knees, and her long bony fingers gripped around his ankles to
push the last bit of him inside. There came a loud bang, something
that startled her as well as me. The door to the dining room flew
open, and three officers burst into the room, led by Deputy Campbell.
Jesus. He yelled, taking aim at what was once Miss Jacobs. She
wretched and Luke's whole body slipped out of her, collapsing on the table.
In a cocoon of translucent goo. I fell from the wall and hid the
floor hard as the officers opened fire on her, forcing her back with a
multi layered scream. The window shattered and natural light poured in, making her
scream even louder as if burned by the rays. I ran to Luke and
pulled him from the table, relieved when he was still breathing. The glowing
symbol was fading, and with a final shriek, the former Miss Jacobs became
a cloud of smoke that was seemingly sucked into the symbol. Then everything when
deathly silent for a few seconds. As it happened, Tommy Dean had managed
to convince the sheriff to investigate Miss Jacobs. He insisted that he had seen
her on his property and that is satchel couldn't be found afterwards. Thank god
he did, because Luke and I will not be here today if it wasn't
for him. We carry the mental scars, but we live. Suffice to
say, the brook Street Sleuths were no more after that day.