Read Mystery of the Phantom Heist for Free Online

Joe asked.
    “I’ve got something for you guys,” Connie said. She grinned as she held up something that looked like an earbud for an MP3 player. “Guess what this is? Take a wild guess.”
    “Um . . . can I listen to music with it?” Joe guessed.
    “It does a lot more than that, Joey,” Connie said. “Pop this in your ear and you’ll be able to hear conversations up to one hundred feet away. Even whispers.”
    “Cool,” I said.
    “Way cool!” Joe said.
    “Here. Consider it a gift,” Connie said, slipping it into Joe’s hand. “So what are you guys doing here today? Visiting the old man?”
    “Sort of,” I said. “We were hoping Dad would give us the name of the owner of a vanity plate we saw.”
    “But according to Dad, that information is top secret,” Joe added.
    Connie snorted and flapped her hand. “Your dad’s retired,” she said. “I’m the big cheese here now.”
    Connie waved us to her computer. After about five minutesof searching files, she was able to give us the full name of Awesome Dude.
    “Colin Sylvester,” Connie reported. “Name ring a bell?”
    “I think so,” I said slowly. “Don’t his parents own a line of cruise ships or something?”
    “Whatever they do, they’re superrich,” Joe said. “I think they have a house by the bay that makes the Peytons’ look like a shack.”
    “Is there anything else you want me to look up while I’m here?” Connie asked.
    I thought about the YouTube clip and slickbro13, but shook my head. “You’ve done plenty for us already, Connie,” I said. “And if Dad finds out—”
    “Tell him whatever you want,” Connie said with a grin. “If he doesn’t like it, I’ll probably read about it in that book of his.”
    We left Dad’s office building with the best clue we’d gotten all day—the name of the guy in the black Benz.
    “Now we know that it was Colin Sylvester outside our school today,” I said when we were halfway home. “But we still don’t know why he was there.”
    Joe shrugged and said, “Maybe it’s no big deal. Maybe he saw the commotion and stopped his car to be nosy.”
    “With that look he gave us?” I said, remembering the icy glare. “I don’t think so.”
    We were walking up Foley Street when Joe’s tablet beeped.
    “What was that?” I asked.
    “I got a text or an e-mail,” he said, pulling it out.
    “That thing gets e-mails too?” I said, impressed. “It really can do everything.”
    Joe stopped to check out the e-mail. He wrinkled his brow and said, “I don’t recognize the sender. There’s an attachment, too.”
    “Then delete!” I declared. “Never open an attachment you don’t recognize.”
    “Too late,” Joe said. “I already did.”
    I peered over Joe’s shoulder as a video appeared on the small screen. As he and I watched the clip, our eyes popped wide open. It showed some guy hurling a rock through the window of Bayport’s only flower shop. His back was to the camera as he jumped up and down, cheering.
    “Another Scaredevil,” I said through gritted teeth. “But why was it sent to you? That’s what I want to know.”
    “Yeah, me too,” Joe said. “And how did those lowlifes get my e-mail?”
    Joe was about to replay the clip when I heard what sounded like heavy footsteps behind us. Spinning around, I saw two tall, beefy guys coming our way. I blinked hard when I saw what they wore: steel breastplates, leather sandals—and heavy, glistening swords!
    “Um . . . Frank?” Joe said when he saw them too. “Who are those guys?”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “All I do know is that they’re armed—and dangerous.”

INVITE ONLY
6
JOE
    F RANK AND I STOOD FROZEN LIKE STATUES. The armored guys’ eyes were on us as they came closer and closer. My own eyes stayed fixed on those swords!
    “Either we’re in a time warp,” I murmured, “or I’m seeing ancient warriors.”
    “In case they attack,” Frank said out of the corner of his mouth, “do we fight