Something Smells Fishy

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1: A Prince in Pawston

  Chapter 2: Office News

  Chapter 3: A Fishy Tale

  Chapter 4: The Mayor’s Office

  Chapter 5: Clues and Plans

  Chapter 6: The Old Switcheroo

  Chapter 7: Fish-napped!

  Chapter 8: A Wild Fish Chase

  Chapter 9: A Fish and Ships Place

  Chapter 10: Off to Squid Row

  ‘Undercover in the Bow-Wow Club’ Excerpt

  About the Walker Styles and Ben Whitehouse

  A PRINCE IN PAWSTON

  “What in Pawston is going on?” Rider Woofson barked. The dog detective was driving his P.I. (Pup Investigators) Pack to their favorite diner to celebrate solving their latest case. But cars were bumper to bumper, and the traffic wasn’t moving. Rider didn’t like sitting still, not when he could be solving a super-crime.

  “Maybe I can see what’s happening with my new Seeing Eye Dog Glasses,” Westie Barker said as he wagged his tail excitedly. This white terrier was a detective and an inventor, and he loved trying out his new gadgets. Westie adjusted his homemade invention that was raised over the traffic. “It’s a real zoo at the Pawston Marina. Half the city must be there . . . and everyone has cameras. Wonder what all the hubbub is about.”

  “The marina?” Rora Gooddog looked up from her book. “Is it Tuesday already? I almost forgot about Prince Bubbles.”

  “Who’s Prince Bubbles?” Westie asked.

  “If he’s not a super sub sandwich with mayo and extra marshmallows, who cares? I’m hungry!” Ziggy whined. He was the youngest of the P.I. Pack, and he always thought with his stomach.

  “Prince Bubbles is fish royalty,” Rora answered, “from the underwater country of New Sealand.”

  “Hey, isn’t that the prince who hardly ever leaves the water? I wonder what brings him to dry land,” Rider said, parking the P.I. van. “I’d like to go investigate. You’ve caught my curiosity.”

  “You know what they say,” Ziggy whined, rubbing his empty tummy. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

  “Good thing I’m no cat,” Rider said as he fixed his hat.

  At the Pawston Marina, a crowd of fans had gathered around the dock, which was covered with a fancy red carpet. There was a velvet rope, and several security guards were holding the fans back from a long blue limousine. Among the guards was a French bulldog who Rider recognized from a previous case. “Heya, Frenchie,” Rider said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m working as security for the prince. He’s here visitin’ Pawston to be awarded the Key to the City for his clean water program. Pretty neat, huh?”

  Before Rider and the P.I. Pack could ask more questions, the animals went wild. A plank emerged from the water and landed on the dock. A glittering, bedazzled fishbowl with giant wheels drove up the plank, moving slowly out of the water.

  Inside the fishbowl, there was a single castle. The crowd became very quiet. “Where’s the prince?” everyone whispered.

  Suddenly, Prince Bubbles swam through the castle doors and emerged at the top of the fishbowl, waving his fins. The crowd shouted with glee.

  “That’s what I call regal, kid,” Rora said to Ziggy.

  “Well, I’m royally hungry,” Ziggy said. He followed his nose into the crowd, sniffing around for a snack.

  “I like his crown,” Westie noted while looking at Prince Bubbles through his Seeing Eye Dog Glasses. “With that birthmark on his cheek and that monocle on his eye, he certainly is majestic.”

  The fishbowl drove to the limo. Frenchie closed the door after the prince disappeared inside.

  Having failed to find a snack in a trash can, Ziggy popped his head up just in time to see the limo driver, who was scratching his mustache. He looked familiar—but why? Could Ziggy have known that rottweiler? Before the pup could place him, the rottweiler winked at Ziggy, and the limo sped away. Prince Bubbles was gone.

  OFFICE NEWS

  The next day, the P.I. Pack was back in the office. Rider was reading old case files. Rora was flipping through the newspaper. Westie was fiddling with his latest invention. Bored and a little hungry, Ziggy turned on the TV.

  “Hey look! Isn’t that the prince?” Westie said, pointing to the TV. Prince Bubbles was on the news, shaking hands with the mayor and the police chief. “It was paw-some seeing him in person yesterday, huh?”

  “Well, that prince sure swims around town,” Rora noted. She held up a newspaper article about the prince reading stories to children at a public school.

  “Bubbles-mania has taken over Pawston . . . tonight on Sealebrity News!” said a parrot reporter on the TV. “Last night, Prince Bubbles was seen going to dinner at Pawston’s hottest new underwater restaurant, KELP! And who was his date? Why, the beautiful and electrifying Ellie Eel.”

  Ziggy stopped flipping channels. Instead, he hopped up onto the desk and sniffed at the images of Prince Bubbles on the TV screen.

  “What’s up, pup?” Rora asked. “You thinking about eating the TV?”

  “No. There’s something weird about that prince,” Ziggy said. “I can’t quite put my paw on it.”

  “Always trust your instinct, Zig,” Rider said. “Instinct is a dog’s best friend.”

  Suddenly the buzzer rang. Rora got up to answer the door. “Oh boy! We have company!” Westie said, his tail wagging. “I wonder if they’d be interested in helping me test my latest invention: the Grip-o-matic Grabber.”

  “Keep the science to yourself, partner,” Rora said. “Our visitor looks seasick and in need of help.”

  The fish wore a full-body scuba suit and a fishbowl on his head. He walked into the room and smiled. “Hello. Is this the P.I. Pack Detective Agency?”

  “It is. Can I get you some water?” Rider asked kindly. He slid a chair over to the rather nervous-looking fish.

  “Oh my, yes,” the fish said. “I’m as dry as turkey jerky.” As the fish sat down to catch his breath, he seemed a little better, but still a little nervous. Westie went for water as the P.I. Pack crowded around their visitor to listen to his story. “Thank you for having me. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

  “Let’s start at the beginning,” Rider said. “What’s your name?”

  “Red. Red Herring.”

  “How can we help, Red?” Rora asked.

  “Well, I have a mystery that needs to be solved, only I can’t really prove it’s a mystery in the first place, which is why I didn’t know who else to talk to who won’t think I’m crazy. Can you help?”

  “You came to the right place,” Rider said.

  A FISHY TALE

  Westie handed Red a glass of water. The fish looked at it and returned it immediately. “Sorry to trouble you, but could I have a glass of water with salt in it?” Red asked.

  “Saltwater?” Ziggy moaned. “What kinda fish are you?”

  “A herring of course,” Red explained. “We live in the ocean and are quite different from freshwater fish, naturally. I’m from New Sealand.”

  “Do you know Prince Bubbles?” Westie asked excitedly.

  “Yes and no,” Red said. “You see, I know the real Prince Bubbles. But the fish parading around Pawston . . .” Red pointed at the TV screen, where the news reporter was interviewing the prince. “He’s an impostor!”

  “Did you say pasta?” Ziggy yelped, his ears perking up.

  “No, I said impostor!” Red repeated. “That is not my prince.”

  “How do you know?” Rider asked.

  “Last night, I went to have dinner at KELP. The prince was there, and when I said hello, he pretended to be on his shellphone. Like he didn’t even know me! He didn’t shake my fin or stop to wave, even! Can you
imagine?”

  “I certainly can, Red,” Rora said. “If I were a royal, I wouldn’t be running around touching paws with every goon and dame that looked my way.”

  “Then you have never visited New Sealand,” Red said, offended. “In my country, we are all very kind—especially the royals. For the prince to not wave to a citizen—in fact, to not even recognize a citizen of his kingdom—is unheard of. Prince Bubbles is a friend to every fish in the sea.”

  “Your story is walking on thin ice,” Rora said, not convinced. “I’m not buying it. New Sealand is a large kingdom. I can’t imagine Prince Bubbles knows every fish.”

  “But he does!” Red said. “He has the memory of an elephant fish.”

  “Give me a break, and fast,” Rora huffed.

  “Did someone say breakfast?” Ziggy asked. When everyone shook his or her head no, Ziggy’s tummy growled. He was hungry.

  “I am offended!” Red said. “I am being treated like a lying slobster. I would never make up such a whale of a tale!”

  “This guy’s story is a hook, line, and stinker,” Rora said. “It’s a stretch at best.”

  “Now, Rora,” Rider said, “let’s hear the fish out.”

  While the others talked, Ziggy started sniffing around the office. He’d hidden his bone here somewhere, but he couldn’t quite recall where. His nose led him past Rora’s desk, where his wagging tail hit her newspaper and it fell to the floor. Ziggy couldn’t believe his eyes. “Well, I’ll be a puppy’s uncle.”

  Ziggy picked up the newspaper and brought it over to his friends. “Bow-wowza! Red is telling the truth!” Ziggy exclaimed. “And I can totally prove it!”

  THE MAYOR’S OFFICE

  Ziggy laid out Rora’s newspaper. “See anything weird?” he asked the others.

  “Good job, Ziggy,” Rider said, patting the pup detective on his head.

  “I don’t see anything,” Westie said, staring at the two images of Prince Bubbles. The first was an old photo of the prince on his throne in New Sealand. The second photo was taken here in Pawston just yesterday. Westie scratched his head with his Grip-o-matic Grabber. “I don’t get it.”

  Rora smiled and said, “Whoever is impersonating the prince doesn’t have a dog’s eye for detail. Prince Bubbles’s monocle and birthmark are reversed in these pictures.”

  “Clever dogs,” Red said. “Now will you take my case?”

  “We’re already on it,” Rider said, pulling his keys from his pocket. “Let’s roll, P.I. Pack.”

  Minutes later, Rider and his crew marched into the mayor’s office, even though the mayor was in a meeting with Mr. Meow. Ziggy was about to show the mayor his newspaper finding when Rider grabbed it and put it in his back pocket. Rider winked, letting his team know to follow his lead.

  “It’ssss esssspecially rude to walk in on a meeting uninvited,” Mr. Meow hissed.

  “Mr. Meow, Mr. Mayor, I am sorry for the interruption,” Rider said. “But the team and I were hoping for a treat. We would love to meet the prince while he’s in town.”

  “He’ssss bussssy,” Mr. Meow said, looking at his claws. “He’ssss a prince, after all.”

  “I understand,” Rider said politely. “But as a pup who grew up next to the City Kitty River, I know firsthand how important clean water is, and I’d like to thank the prince for his help.”

  “Mr. Meow is right,” the mayor said. “The prince is quite busy. But I’d be happy to give you tickets to our Key to the City event. You might not get to meet him, but you’ll be close to the action.”

  “I find it is best to be near the action,” Rider said, eyeing Mr. Meow. He wasn’t sure why, but the cat didn’t seem to like him very much.

  The mayor pulled out four tickets to the event. “Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Westie said. “I’ll take those.” Using his new Grip-o-matic Grabber, Westie reached out. But the powerful invention shot past the tickets and knocked into some filing cabinets. The mechanical grabber was so strong, it pushed the filing cabinet over, which knocked over the next one, which knocked over the next one, and on and on. Like dominoes, all the cabinets fell on their sides, throwing papers everywhere. “Sorry,” Westie said. “Let me try again.”

  “NO!” everyone shouted.

  “Thank you,” Rider said, quickly taking the tickets from the mayor. “We’ll see you there . . . and we promise not to make a mess of anything else.”

  CLUES AND PLANS

  As they left the mayor’s office, Rora and Ziggy were upset. They were about to voice those feelings when Rider put his finger to his lips. “Hush, puppies,” he whispered. “Save the questions for when we’re in the barking lot,”

  As soon as they got in the van, Rora asked, “Rider, why didn’t you tell the mayor that the prince is an impostor?”

  “Because something smells fishy,” Rider answered. “Why would someone impersonate the prince? If we answer that question, then we may stop a real crime before it happens. And the fewer people that know the prince is an impostor right now, the better.”

  “This is just like that case in New Yorkie,” Rora said. “We have two missions: Number one, find out who has the prince. And number two, find out why.”

  “What’s this?” Westie said to himself as he pulled a piece of paper off the end of his Grip-o-matic Grabber. “Eureka!” he yelped. “I have a theory about mission number two. This is from the mayor’s office. It’s the designs for the Key to the City.”

  “What’s so important about the Key?” Rora barked.

  “There is a smaller key inside the big key. And it opens up every door in Pawston!” exclaimed Westie. “Restaurants, stores, vet offices, museums, even bank vaults. You name it, this key can open it.”

  “Cocker-poodle-doo!” Ziggy said. “Any criminal would love to get their paws on that!”

  “Westie, you’re like a calculator,” Rider said with a smile. “We can always count on you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Westie said. “But you should thank my Grip-o-matic Grabber.”

  “Looks like my hunch was right,” Rider said. “It’s a good thing we didn’t alert the mayor. We have an impostor to find before he gets a free pass to open up every locked door in Pawston. And I know just the bait to use to hook him. Now, who feels like fishing for a bad guy?”

  THE OLD SWITCHEROO

  The next day at the Key-giving ceremony, Rider and the P.I. Pack were in the front row. There was a red carpet leading to the stage, along with dozens of reporters and hundreds of fans ready to snap pictures of the royal fish.

  When a limo arrived, the fans screamed with joy. But they were disappointed when the mayor stepped out with Mr. Meow and a glass suitcase. Inside the suitcase was a golden key—the Key to the City. The pair walked down the red carpet to the mayor’s podium, carrying the glass case. “Here, let me help,” Rider volunteered.

  “Thanks, Detective. It seems you’re always around to lend a helping paw,” the mayor said.

  “More like you’re alwayssss in the way,” Mr. Meow added under his breath.

  “What was that?” Rider asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” the cat purred.

  Rider carried the glass case to the podium. Once he set it down, he waved the rest of his P.I. Pack over. “We just wanted to thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Rora said, shaking the mayor’s hand.

  Ziggy sniffed at Mr. Meow. “You smell salty.”

  “Mind your nose, and your mannerssss,” the cat hissed.

  Then the crowd went wild again, screaming and shouting with excitement as another limo arrived. This time, Prince Bubbles emerged, stealing everyone’s attention. “The prince draws quite a crowd,” Rider commented to the mayor.

  “He sure does,” the mayor said. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “It is practically hiss-torical,” said Mr. Meow.

  “Look at that entourage,” Rora noted. The prince wasn’t alone. By his side was his friend Ellie Eel. The famous pair was escorted by bodyguards—an octopus and a shark. They were all wear
ing the latest above-water fashions that helped them breathe. Standing behind them was the limo driver, a mean-looking rottweiler.

  Ziggy poked Rider. “Is it just me or does that driver with a mustache look like Rotten Ruffhouse?”

  “It certainly does,” Rider said. “Looks like our case just went from smelling fishy to smelling rotten.”

  With the ceremony beginning, Rider and the P.I. Pack left the podium and returned to their seats. As soon as they were sitting, Rider leaned over to Westie. “Did you make the switch?”

  “I sure did! I felt like Agent Double-O-Dog, James Bone himself.” Westie wagged his tail. “With all eyes on Prince Bubbles, I used my Grip-o-matic Grabber to snatch the glass suitcase, replaced the real Key to the City with a fake, and put it back before anyone was the wiser.”

  “Good job, Westie,” Rider said. As he eyed the limo-driving rottweiler, he smiled. “It looks like we’re in for the catch of the day.”

  FISH-NAPPED!

  “It is with great pride that I grant the Key to Pawston City to Prince Bubbles,” the mayor said, speaking before the whole crowd. He was about to give the prince—well, the impostor prince—the golden key. The mayor and Mr. Meow stood before the prince and his friend Ellie Eel with the glass case and the golden key. Suddenly there was a whumpa-whumpa-whumpa sound from high above the marina. A red helicopter swooped in and interrupted the mayor’s speech.