Hiss Me Deadly Read Online Free Page A

wagon.
    "This isn't the last of it, Zero!" Percy screamed as the cops loaded him in. "Open up to snakes, or I'll make this school pay!"
    With a screech of tires and a whiff of burning rubber, the cops took off. Mr. Zero planted his paws on his hips and surveyed the crowd of students.
    "Well, what are you all gaping at?" he said. "Get to class!"
    When the big cat says get, you get. We got.
    ***
    Schoolwork can really cramp a detective's style. Mr. Ratnose was still out, and Ms. Dwyer was full of more hot air than a volcano's belch. After endless lectures and two pop quizzes, recess at last limped into sight.
    Finally I could get some work done.
    Natalie met me in the crowded hallway. "You look grumpy," she said.
    "This substitute teacher is really griping my grits."
    She held up a wing. "I know what'll cheer you up. Knock, knock."
    I shook my head. "Can we just work on our case?"
    "Who's there," said Natalie, mimicking my voice.
    "Panther," she said, and gave me the eye.
    "Okay, panther who?" I asked.
    "Panther no panth, I'm going swimming!" Natalie cackled so hard, she bumped into a passing armadillo. He promptly curled into a ball and tumbled down the hall.
    "Sorry!" she called after him.
    I grabbed her shoulder. "Can we get down to business now?"
    "Absolutely," she said with a smirk. "Lead on, O Great Detective."
    I patrolled the corridors with Natalie, keeping an eye out for suspicious behavior. Maybe the thief would try to strike again, and then we'd nail him.
    As we were passing the library, something went, "
Psst!
"
    I waved a hand before my face. "Natalie, I told you beans and berries don't mix."
    "Wasn't me," she said.
    The "
Psst!
" came again, louder. Just ahead, peeking around the corner, was a familiar face: Anna Motta-Pia, junior janitor.
    "Over here," she said. "I've got a lead for your case."
    We hurried back into the shadow of the library. The rabbit leaned on a rake, looking around nervously.
    "About that theft...," said Anna.
    "Yes?" asked Natalie.
    The rabbit's whiskers twitched. "I figured out someone else who might have a key. Y'all know the new music teacher?"
    I crinkled my forehead. "Um, that big kitty who's filling in for Zoomin' Mayta?"
    Natalie snapped her wing tip. "He's a lynx," she said. "Gustav Mauler."
    "Sho 'nuff," said the rabbit. "Music teachers have a key to every classroom, 'cause they teach all over school."
    "Hmm," I said.
    Anna lowered her voice to a whisper. "
And
he's
always pussyfooting around the halls when everybody's at lunch or recess."
    Natalie cocked her head. "But why would a music teacher steal?"
    "They don't get paid diddly-poo," said the custodian. "Hardly enough to keep them in bow wax and trumpet polish."
    My eyes met Natalie's. "Sounds like a motive to me," I said, my spirits rising. "Thanks, Anna. You're a peach."
    Before we could hoof it, the rabbit caught my sleeve. "Chet, I'd druther you didn't let Mr. Mauler know you heard it from me. Rabbits and lynxes, we're like Yankees and Rebels."
    I crisscrossed my lips with a finger. "Mum's the word, ma'am. Let's go, Natalie."
    We prowled the halls, on the lookout for a big old lynx. Third-grade classrooms ... nope. Second-grade classrooms ... nada.
    Near the fourth-grade building, we struck pay dirt. "Mauler at two o'clock," I muttered to Natalie.
    "But Chet," she said, "it's only ten thirty."
    I rolled my eyes. "Not the time, birdie, the
position.
Twelve o'clock is straight ahead; two o'clock is a bit to the right."
    She looked over at me. "Sometimes you say the weirdest things."
    We pulled back behind the corner to spy on Mr. Gustav Mauler. Anna was right—he was lurking. Twice he edged up to Ms. Reckonwith's locked door, and twice backed away when someone passed.
    Was the lynx working up his nerve to break in?
    We'd never know for sure, because Waldo the furball chose that exact moment to blow our cover.
    "Hey, it's Chet and Natalie!" he cried. "Working hard, or hardly working?
Hur, hur, hur.
"
    I raised a finger to