The Soccer Ball Monster Mystery Read online

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1 SOCCER FANS

  CHAPTER 2 GO, GO, DYNAMOS!

  CHAPTER 3 THE MISSING MASCOT

  CHAPTER 4 YOU’RE NOT LION

  CHAPTER 5 KICKING AND STOMPING

  CHAPTER 6 THE GOALIE’S CURSE

  CHAPTER 7 A STICKY SITUATION

  CHAPTER 8 SOCCER BALL MONSTER MATCH

  CHAPTER 9 PENALTY KICKS

  CHAPTER 10 GOOAAALLL!!!

  ‘LABRA-CADABRA-DOR’S REVENGE’ EXCERPT

  ABOUT WALKER STYLES AND BEN WHITEHOUSE

  Soccer Fans

  “Are you kidding?” barked Ziggy Fluffenscruff. “David Geckom is the number one player in the All-Star Soccer League. He’ll totally get voted MVP this year!”

  “Kid, I wish you were right, but you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rora Gooddog said with a laugh. “Lion L. Messy has won it the last two years in a row. Maybe third time’s the charm.”

  Ziggy and Rora were dog detectives and members of the Pup Investigators Pack. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but they did have two things in common: They both loved to solve crimes, and they were both crazy about soccer—especially their hometown team, the Pawston Dynamos!

  “I’ve never seen you two this excited about the same thing,” Rider Woofson noted. Rider was their boss, and the leader of the P.I. Pack. “What sport are you talking about?”

  “Bow-wowza, Boss! This is only the most important sport in the history of the planet!” Ziggy’s tail wagged excitedly. “Soccer!”

  “This weekend is the big championship match between the Pawston Dynamos and the Catskills Cougars,” Rora added. “We both have front row seats.”

  Together, the two dogs cheered:

  “We rock! We rule!

  We like to school these fools!

  We’re no average Joe’s—we’re the Pawston Dynamos!”

  Rider had a good chuckle as his two teammates began kicking a soccer ball back and forth in the office space. But Ziggy, the youngest pup in the group, was riled up and kicked the ball too hard. It hit a coat rack, bounced off the ceiling fan, and crashed into a huge pillow fort on the other side of the room.

  The pillow-and-blanket fort was covered in signs that read TOP SECRET! and KEEP OUT! and GENIUS AT WORK! But now half of the front wall was crumbled.

  “Uh-oh, kid,” Rora said to her fellow soccer fan. “We’d better make a run for it.”

  Westie Barker—a brilliant inventor, and the fourth member of the team—popped out and growled. “I ask very little of you, my friends, except that you stay clear of my brainstorm fortress when I’m in the middle of building a creation!”

  “Sorry, Westie,” Ziggy said. “We were talking about soccer, and I just got soooo excited!”

  “Yes, well, I’m excited too. . . . I’m working on a new invention!” Westie barked.

  “What is it?” Rider asked. He glimpsed a machine with dozens of mechanical legs like a caterpillar.

  Westie quickly fixed the fallen blanket to cover the mysterious gadget. “I’m not ready to say. Not just yet. These things take time. Now, please, if you don’t mind”—the terrier tossed the soccer ball back to his friend—“keep my inventing space clear of any and all hockey balls!”

  “Hockey ball?!” Ziggy snorted. “There’s no such thing!”

  “We’ll let Westie have that one,” Rider said with a smile. “Let’s go have a soccer match in the park and give our inventor some peace and quiet.”

  “Great idea, Boss,” Rora said. “Hey, I have an extra ticket to the game if you’d like to join us.”

  “Thanks. That sounds swell.” Rider nodded. “After all, it’s not often that the P.I. Pack sees a fair match.”

  GO, GO, DYNAMOS!

  At the Pet Life Stadium, the Pawston Dynamos were out on the field, practicing for the big game. The players ran through some warm-up drills while their coaches barked orders and advice.

  Seated in the stadium box, three more soccer fans were watching. The Pawston mayor cheered on the Dynamos while Pawston’s richest cat, Mr. Meow, glared at the home team. By their side was Frenchie, a dog who was chosen by the police to be the head of soccer-stadium security.

  “I know that look, Mr. Meow,” the mayor said. “I thought you liked soccer?”

  “I love ssssoccer,” Mr. Meow hissed, “but I’m pulling for the best team, the Catskillssss Cougarssss, not these dim-witted Dynamossss.” He pulled out a Cougars scarf and wrapped it proudly around his neck.

  The mayor let out a tremendous laugh. “As long as it’s a good game this weekend, I don’t care who wins!” Then, with a wink, he added, “Though, Pawston should handle those Cougars easily enough, especially if Dynamo Dog is here to cheer on the team!”

  At that moment, a muscular dog with a square jaw stepped onto the field dressed in tights, a cape, and a mask.

  “Don’t you fear!

  Dynamo Dog is here!

  Here to cheer! Goooooo,

  Pawston Dynamos!”

  Then there was an explosion of fireworks behind him.

  The whole team cheered and clapped. Frenchie and the mayor each whistled with excitement too. Even Mr. Meow was mesmerized by Dynamo Dog’s bow-wow-wow factor!

  “Go, Pawsssston!” the cat shouted—before catching himself. “Oh, I mean . . . Go, Cougars!”

  “Don’t worry,” Frenchie said. “It happens all the time. That’s the sort of thing Dynamo Dog does to fans of any team. If you follow me, I’ll show you all the security we will have in place for this weekend to make sure everyone has a safe and fun time.”

  When practice ended, the soccer team followed the coaches into the locker room to discuss the big game. Frenchie led the mayor and Mr. Meow to the garage where their cars were waiting. The only person left on the field was the team mascot, Dynamo Dog.

  He was almost done, but he still had his special signature move left to practice. Dynamo Dog pushed a button on his cape, and his entire outfit began to glow. He raced toward the goal, did a somersault, a triple back flip, and . . . landed in a bag held by a giant Soccer Ball Monster with mean eyes and a dark grin!

  That was definitely not the way his special signature move was supposed to end!

  Dynamo Dog tried to get out of the bag, but the menacing monster tied the open end shut. Then it cackled an evil laugh as it dragged the mascot away. Dynamo Dog had been Dynamo Dog-napped!

  The Missing Mascot

  The P.I. Pack raced to the soccer stadium as soon as the mayor called with the bad news about Pawston’s missing mascot.

  “Oh, poor Dynamo Dog,” Ziggy whined, hiding his face in his paws.

  “I think poor Pawston Dynamos is more like it,” corrected Rora. “The team needs their mascot now more than ever! How could this happen before the big game?”

  “I know. It’s awful!” Frenchie moaned. The security dog was biting his nails. “Being in charge of the big game was supposed to be my big break with the police force. Now it’s looking like my big break-away from the police force. They’re gonna fire me for sure!”

  “Not if we can help it,” Rider said. “First thing’s first, what can you tell me about last night? Who was the last person to see Dynamo Dog?”

  “That would have been me,” said David Geckom. The skinny gecko was the star player of the Pawston Dynamos soccer team. Rora and Ziggy were instantly awe-struck meeting him in real life. For once, both detectives were at a loss for words. “Coach and I were running through a training routine. We were the last ones off the soccer pitch besides Dynamo.”

  “The soccer what?” asked Rider.

  “The pitch is what soccer players call the field,” Ziggy blurted out.

  �
�That’s right,” Geckom said with a smile, and Ziggy nearly fainted. “So when we left, Dynamo Dog was practicing some of his famous routines. He was supposed to join us for dinner afterward, but he never showed up. We came back this morning, and he was nowhere to be found.”

  “Are you sure he’s not just late to practice?” Rider asked.

  “I’m sure,” said the head coach as he joined the crew. “Dynamo Dog has never been late in his life. He knows that this team depends on him.”

  “Okay, the next step is—” Rider began, but he was suddenly interrupted.

  “Autographs!” Ziggy shouted, unable to contain his super-fan excitement any longer. Ziggy shoved his Pawston Dynamos cap at David Geckom. “Can you please sign this? Say, ‘To my number one fan!’ ”

  Then Rora pushed Ziggy aside. “Pardon my friend. He’s so silly. I’m your number one fan.”

  “What? That’s not true!” Ziggy shouted.

  The two detectives swatted each other while trying to win Geckom’s attention. The soccer player just laughed. “You’re both very sweet. I’m sorry to run, but I need to practice if we’re going to beat those Cougars.”

  “Good job, kid. You scared him off,” Rora huffed.

  “No, I didn’t! You did!” Ziggy argued.

  “Enough, you two,” Rider said. “We have a missing mascot and a crime to solve. Let’s start sniffing out some clues.”

  “I’m already on it!” Westie said. He was holding a large metal cone over his nose and was sniffing around the field. “I’m using one of my new inventions: the Super Sniffer 2000. It triples my sense of smell. And right now, I smell . . . a lion?”

  Westie put his nose down and followed the strange scent. He sniffed across the field, sniffed over by the goal, then sniffed up and down the stands. Finally, he turned a corner, and discovered their first clue—a team uniform from the Catskills Cougars! It was hidden next to the practice area!

  “Good job, Westie,” said Rora. “It looks like your nose wasn’t lying about smelling that lion. Anyone feel like taking a trip to the Catskills? I think this mystery just became messy.”

  You’re Not Lion

  The P.I. Pack drove to the Catskills, a town in the mountains just outside of Pawston. They arrived at the Cougars’ stadium as the team was breaking for lunch. The clue Westie had found tipped Rora off that the Catskills Cougars may be part of this mystery. She wanted to talk to the player who wore number ten. His name was Lion L. Messy, and he was the Cougars’ star player.

  “Mind if we ask you a few questions?” Rider asked.

  “Of course not,” Messy said. The lion soccer star was very polite. “I heard about Dynamo Dog, and I am happy to help in any way I can.”

  “A-ha! You said you were happy!” Rora pointed at Messy. “Admit it! You took Dynamo Dog so that the Cougars could win the championship and you’d be named the MVP for the third year in a row!”

  “Careful, Detective,” Rider said to Rora, motioning for her to step back from Messy. “I think your soccer craze is turning crazy. Let’s hear what Mr. Messy has to say.”

  “I am sorry about what happened, but it was not me,” Messy claimed. “I was being interviewed on TV last night by the news.”

  Westie pulled out his phone and began pawing at the screen. “He’s telling the truth. Mr. Messy is innocent.”

  “We’re sorry to have troubled you,” Rider apologized.

  “It is no trouble,” Messy said.

  “Then perhaps it would also be no trouble to sign a few items for me?” Ziggy said, pushing Rider and Rora out of the way. “I have a poster, some stickers, your playing card, a hat, a soccer ball, a T-shirt, a sweatshirt, a scarf, some shin guards, a pair of dirty socks, your team jersey, some cleats, a pair of soccer shorts, one goalie glove—”

  “Bow-wowza!” Rora shouted Ziggy’s catchphrase. “Where did all that stuff come from, kid?”

  While Messy was signing everything for Ziggy, Westie wandered over to the other end of the field with his Super Sniffer 2000. “Hey, team! I sniffed out another clue.”

  “Looks like at least one detective here is going for MVP,” Rider said, patting Ziggy and Rora on the back. “What did you find?”

  Westie held up a Dynamos uniform.

  Rider turned to Messy. “Hmmm, is anyone on your team missing?”

  “No,” said Messy. “Everyone is here, including our mascot.”

  “Have you seen anything odd or strange?” asked Rora. “I mean, besides Ziggy.”

  “Nothing,” Messy confirmed.

  Rider and the team thanked the soccer star as they left—except Rora, who whispered, “I’m keeping an eye on you!”

  Once Messy was alone, he juggled the last ball on the pitch and raced toward the goal. He spun around pretend defenders and then kicked the ball to score. Suddenly, the net from the soccer goal reached out and grabbed Messy. He was trapped. “I’ve netted a goal before, but I’ve never netted myself!” he cried. “Someone, please help!”

  Then the Soccer Ball Monster came out and roared an evil laugh. The monster grabbed the netting with Messy inside and carried the superstar off the pitch.

  Kicking and Stomping

  Back at the P.I. Pack office, the detectives learned the news about Lion L. Messy’s disappearance.

  “Now I feel bad for thinking Messy was guilty,” Rora said.

  “Don’t feel bad for him. Feel bad for us,” Ziggy moaned. “The big game is in just a few days. It won’t be the same without the greatest mascot and the soccer MVP playing.”

  “Let’s get our heads back in the game—the detective game,” Rider said, taking charge. “Two animals are missing, and we need to find them.”

  Ziggy looked at everything signed by Lion L. Messy on his desk. “You’re right, Boss. I was being selfish. We need to solve this case.”

  Still, Ziggy and Rora seemed to come down with a case of the blahs.

  “I know what will cheer you up,” Westie said. “I’ll show you my top secret invention. I call it—the Kooky Kicker.”

  Westie pulled a sheet away to reveal a machine with a kick line of robotic legs. He pressed a button on his remote control, and the legs began to kick. “My Kooky Kicker cleans up messes by kicking them away. Watch.”

  The strange machine shuffled around the office. First, it kicked books from the floor back onto the shelf in alphabetical order. Then, it kicked some stray pieces of trash back into the trash can. It even kicked files back into their correct cabinets.

  “Well, isn’t that just hunky-dory,” Rora said with a smile. “I need one of those at my place.”

  Suddenly, the lights on the machine turned from green to red. Instead of kicking, it began stomping. The Kooky Kicker began flattening everything in sight and then kicking it under the rug.

  “Oh my!” Westie said as he dropped his remote. “It looks like my Kooky Kicker has some kooky kinks to work out.” Together, the team jumped on the invention, riding it like a bucking bronco until Westie managed to flip the off switch on the robot. “Whew, that was a close one!”

  “My Messy memorabilia got all messed up!” Ziggy moaned. “Could this week get any worse?!”

  Suddenly, the office door burst open. Frenchie walked proudly into the room and boldly announced, “I know what happened to both Dynamo Dog and Lion L. Messy! It’s the Goalie’s Curse!”

  The Goalie’s Curse

  “A curse!” Ziggy said with his eyes widening. “Don’t curses come with ghosts and monsters?!”

  “There’s no such thing as curses, or ghosts, or monsters,” Rider said seriously.

  “I don’t know, Boss,” Rora said. “I have a good luck charm, and when I don’t bring it to a game, my favorite team always loses. If you believe in luck, then bad luck can be the same as a curse.”

  “Hear me out,” Frenchie said to Rider. “Legend says there was once a young goalie who devoted his entire life to soccer. When he finished school, he tried out for the big leagues. He didn’t make it ont
o either the Dynamos or the Cougars, so he swore revenge on both teams. That’s where the Goalie’s Curse comes from! This goalie promised that if both teams ever made it to the championship, neither team would win. The teams have never made it into the championship at the same time . . . until this year.”

  “Bow-wowza!” Ziggy said. “It is the curse!”

  Rider rolled his eyes. “Sounds like a soccer legend to me, not a curse. What we need to do is stick to the facts and clues that we know.”

  “The only clues we have are a Cougars uniform at the Dynamos field, and a Dynamos uniform at the Cougars field,” Rora pointed out. “Sounds to me like both teams are in trouble. Maybe it really is the Goalie’s Curse.”

  “It’s not a curse,” Rider stated.

  “I don’t know,” Westie said. “There are things even science cannot explain.”

  “Not you too,” Rider said to his friend. “Whoever did this is a real-life criminal who is going to spend time behind real-life bars.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Frenchie said. “I can’t stand the idea of a real-life curse!”

  “Well, correct me if I’m wrong,” Rider pointed out. “The curse is meant to stop either team from winning, right? Well, even though one player and one mascot are missing, the teams can still play. Nothing is going to stop the championship game. If the curse were real, then something would have to completely stop the game from ever happening.”