Mystery of the Phantom Heist by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

block, and Joe said, “Frank, do you think Colin’s big plan includes the Scaredevils?”
    “Probably,” I said. “The Scaredevils seem to be Colin’s sock puppets. They’ll do anything for his money.”
    “And I’ll do anything for pizza right now,” Joe said. “You know I can’t talk about a case on an empty stomach.”
    “Okay, okay,” I said, smiling. “We’re almost there.”
    Joe and I made our way to Pie Squared, where we shared a pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms.
    “So,” Joe said, popping a mushroom into his mouth. “What’s next on the agenda?”
    I wanted to answer him, but not with a big piece of mozzarella cheese hanging from my mouth over my chin. I must have looked pretty pathetic, especially when the door opened and in walked—of all people—Sierra Mitchell!
    I yanked the cheese from my mouth—only to get it tangled around my hand.
    “Hey, guys!” Sierra called with a wave.
    “Smooth, bro, real smooth,” Joe teased.
    When my hand was finally cheese free, I smiled coolly and said, “Hey.”
    “Don’t tell me you eat pizza for breakfast too,” Joe said to Sierra.
    “No,” Sierra said. “I’m actually here on a work mission. The party planners are toiling around the clock for Lindsay’s Sweet Sixteen tomorrow, so we all need lunch.”
    “We’re working today too,” I said. “Those pranks around Bayport are keeping us busy.”
    “Oh, that’s right, you’re detectives,” Sierra said. She then planted her hands on her hips and added, “Well, if you ask me, I think we’re all working a little too hard for a Saturday.”
    “It is what it is,” Joe said with a shrug.
    “We can still take a break,” Sierra said. Her eyes lit up. “Why don’t you come over to the Peytons’, Frank, and we’ll take one of their boats out for a spin?”
    “So Mr. Peyton can accuse us of trying to steal his boat?” I scoffed. “Thanks—but no thanks.”
    “Borrowing the boat is one of my job perks,” Sierra explained. “I get to use the small powerboat during my breaks.”
    “Not the yacht?” I joked.
    “Maybe when I become head event planner,” Sierra joked back. “But for now the small boat is cool. I took it out yesterday afternoon and had a blast.”
    I smiled at the thought of boating with Sierra—until I felt Joe kick me under the table and give me a look. Now what?
    “I know,” Sierra said excitedly. “Why don’t you come with us, Joe?”
    “Me?” Joe asked, surprised.
    “Him?” I asked, even more surprised.
    “The more the merrier,” Sierra said cheerily.
    “In that case,” Joe said, “thanks!”
    “Yeah, thanks,” I muttered to Joe. Better than nothing, I guess.
    “Super!” Sierra said as she glanced at her watch. “Meet me at the Peytons’ docks at two o’clock. Just go around the house to the back and I’ll be there.”
    Sierra then did something totally unexpected. She threw me a kiss before walking to the take-out counter. Me—not Joe!
    “I saw that,” Joe teased again. “She’s got it bad for you, big brother.”
    We finished our pizza, then got ready to go boating. I changed into khaki shorts, a polo shirt, and flip-flops. Joe pulled on a pair of cleaner jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt sporting a soft-drink logo.
    “You look like you go to Bay Academy!” Joe joked when we reached the Peyton house.
    “And you look like you’re in kindergarten!” I complained.
    There was no Peyton sighting as we headed around the house to the two docks.
    “Can you imagine what Sanford would do if he saw us trespassing like this?” Joe asked as we walked down a hill toward the bay.
    “We’re not trespassing,” I reminded him. “Taking out the boat is one of Sierra’s job perks. She told us herself.”
    “So where is Sierra?” Joe asked, looking around. “She told us she’d meet us here.”
    I didn’t see Sierra either. Were we about to get stood up?
    Joe whistled through his teeth as he moved up the docks. “Hey—check out