The Garden Plot Read online

  Frank looked down the street. “We have a new suspect to interrogate, and we want to catch her before she starts her Pickle Palace rounds.”

  * * *

  Frank and Joe hopped on their bikes early the next morning and headed for Violet’s house. All down the street, neighbors were already outside getting ready for the block party. People were tidying their gardens, bringing out tables, and unpacking equipment from trucks.

  When the brothers pedaled up to Violet’s overgrown herb garden, she was out front loading the day’s pickles into the back of the Pickle Palace.

  “Hey, boys!” she called as they brought their bikes to a stop. “Big day today. I have a feeling the block party will help me break my pickle sales record.”

  “Yeah, but are they yours to sell?” Joe demanded.

  “What do you mean?”

  Frank crossed his arms. “Pickle profiteering.”

  “What’s ‘profiteering’ mean?” Violet asked, appearing genuinely confused.

  “To make money and profits illegally,” Frank explained.

  “Hey, man, my pickles are pure!” Violet pushed her purple-framed glasses back up her nose with one index finger and jabbed the other at Frank.

  “Purely pilfered, maybe,” Frank replied.

  “What does ‘pilfered’ mean?” Joe whispered.

  “Stolen,” explained Frank.

  “Stolen?! The Pickle Princess doesn’t steal! I make all my pickles myself!”

  “You might pickle them yourself, but where do you get the veggies?” Joe asked, glancing at her garden. “You’ve got a huge garden, but there’s something missing.”

  “I see parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, and about fifty other herbs and spices, but I don’t see a single cucumber,” Frank said.

  “Or pepper or cabbage,” added Joe.

  “Vic and Audrika had tons of them, though,” Frank said. “We saw you admiring their crops.”

  “Then someone sabotaged them and made it look like a woodchuck did all the damage,” said Joe.

  Violet blinked a few times. “And you think it was me?”

  “You could have let the woodchucks eat enough of their vegetables to make it look like they were responsible, while you were busy stealing most of the harvest to turn into pickles,” Joe said.

  Frank tapped a knuckle on the pickle cart. “Once they’re pickled, there’d be no way to trace where the veggies came from.”

  “We know where they didn’t come from, though,” Joe said. “Your garden.”

  Violet grinned. “Oh, no? You know outside isn’t the only place you can have a garden, right?”

  “Um…” Frank was suddenly feeling a lot less certain about his theory.

  Violet shook her head and sighed, then started walking back toward her front door. “Follow me.”

  Frank and Joe trailed her through the overgrown garden, past her front door, and down a set of steep, narrow stairs to the basement.

  “I don’t need to steal anyone else’s veggies because I’m growing my own,” Violet proclaimed. “Just not in my yard where the woodchucks can get to them.” She pushed open a door at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Welcome to my Pickle Bunker.”

  Frank and Joe gasped.

  “It’s beautiful,” Frank whispered.

  “Yup!” Violet agreed. “Three hundred square feet of homegrown cucumbers and peppers using indoor grow lights and a timed watering system of my own design.”

  The whole basement was filled with plants. The boys could practically taste the cucumber in the air.

  “Uh, I guess this explains why you don’t have any veggies in your front yard,” Joe mumbled.

  “The front yard is for my pickling herbs, and they grow like wild on their own. The critters don’t like them much, the plants aren’t too picky about how much water they get, and they’re mostly perennials, so they come back every year. Cukes and peppers are more high maintenance, and they’re annuals. They die when the weather gets cold, so you have to plant more in the spring. But not down here!” She opened her arms, gesturing to the plants all around her. “It’s a perfectly controlled environment where my pickles-to-be can prosper. No pests, no bad weather, and one hundred percent absolutely no sabotage.”

  It was true. Violet had cucumbers and peppers to spare.

  “You don’t have a reason to steal anyone else’s vegetables,” Joe admitted.

  “Sure don’t!” Violet said. “And anytime I want a different variety of cucumbers or need to pick up cabbages for my kraut and kimchi, I just hit up the farmers’ market. Prices are way down now that everyone’s growing their own veggies, so I can get everything I need cheap. The farmers give me a great wholesale discount.”

  “And you don’t care about the contest, so winning FEEL isn’t a motive either,” Frank said with a sigh.

  “And without a why”—Joe crossed Violet’s name off the clue book list—“we’re back to square one.”

  “Sorry, boys. You’re going to have to find a new suspect.” Violet looked up at a clock on the wall. The minute and second hands were both shaped like pickles. “Time for me to run. Some of the farmers are so desperate to get rid of their extra produce, they’ll even trade me veggies for free pickles. I’m going to drop some off now in exchange for some free fruit to munch on while I do my rounds.”

  Joe gave his pen a click. “Did you say free fruit?”

  “Yup. Gotta keep my energy up for a long day of pickle selling. I’m planning to turn this block party into Pickle-Palooza!”

  “Fruit, like maybe bananas?” Joe asked, suddenly more energetic.

  Violet shrugged. “Sure, I like bananas.”

  “You can worry about your stomach later, Joe,” Frank said, pulling his brother toward the door. “The contest is about to start, and we aren’t any closer to solving the case than we were before.”

  “It’s not my stomach I’m thinking about,” Joe said. “Do you know what else likes free bananas?”

  Frank thought for a second. “Woodchucks, but—”

  Joe was yanking Frank up the basement stairs before he could finish his sentence. “Thanks, Violet! I think you gave us just the clue we needed!”

  THE HARDY BOYS—and YOU!

  DO YOU KNOW WHO SABOTAGED AUDRIKA’S AND VIC’S gardens? Think like a Hardy Boy and try cracking the case. Write your answers down on a piece of paper. Or just turn the page to find out!

  Frank and Joe ruled out Audrika and Violet as suspects. Who else might have a reason to cut holes in the fences to let the woodchucks in? Write your answer down.

  When Violet said she was going to trade her pickles for free fruit, Joe thought of a new clue. Can you think of any clues the boys might have missed the first time? Write your answer down.

  Frank, Joe, and their neighbors are excited about growing their own food at home because it’s tasty and good for the planet. Can you think of foods you like to eat that you might try growing in your own garden or in a pot on a sunny windowsill?

  THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE BANANAS

  “Let’s go!” Joe said, hopping on his bike.

  “Go where?” Frank asked, scrambling onto his own bike and pedaling hard to catch up with his brother, who was already a block ahead.

  “To the source!” Joe called back. “The banana source!”

  “I know bananas are a clue, but what does that tell us that we don’t know already?” Frank asked, finally coming up beside Joe. “Everyone can get bananas if they want them. Anyone could have used them as bait.”

  “Sure, but not everyone knows enough about woodchucks to know that mushy bananas are one of their favorite foods,” Joe explained. “It hit me when Violet said she was getting free fruit at the farmers’ market. There’s a who at the market we didn’t add to our suspect list.”

  Frank grinned, pedaling even harder. “And that who knows enough to have done what, where, and when, and they also have a why!”

  “Violet’s not the only one who told us produ
ce sales were down because of the FEEL Contest.”

  The boys raced up to the farmers’ market entrance and skidded their bikes to a stop, but the gate was locked, and all the stalls were empty. They spotted a handwritten sign:

  CLOSED FOR BLOCK PARTY

  BACK TOMORROW

  “I guess even the farmers don’t want to miss the big party,” Frank said.

  Joe wheeled his bike around and started back in the other direction. “I bet that’s where we’ll find our suspect.”

  When the boys reached their block, it was already starting to fill up with people. There was a small stage with a DJ playing music, snow cone and cotton candy booths, and even carnival games. A sign hanging over the street read FEEL GOOD GARDEN PARTY.

  Frank pointed to a man and a woman in matching Bayport Science Center T-shirts standing in front of the first yard on the block, making notes on their clipboards. “Those must be the judges. They’ve already started inspecting the gardens.”

  When the boys got closer, they could see badges around the adults’ necks that said FEEL JUDGE.

  As more and more people showed up to join the party, the boys hopped off their bikes. They didn’t want to run anyone over.

  “I think I might know where we can find our culprit,” Joe said.

  Frank was already pushing his bike down the street before Joe had even told him their destination. “It’s hard for crooks to resist going back to the scene of the crime.”

  As the brothers approached their end of the block, they could see both Vic and Audrika still working away next door to each other, trying to tidy things up before the judges arrived. Both gardens were still pretty, with lots of green plants and colorful flowers, but they weren’t nearly as spectacular as they had been before the sabotage. Audrika had tried to fill the empty spaces where all the huge cabbages had been, but you could tell something was missing. And Vic’s tall trellises looked especially empty without all the cucumbers climbing up them.

  Across the street, a tall, lanky man in a plaid shirt and a baseball cap was talking to one of the Hardys’ neighbors. He kept glancing over his shoulder toward Vic’s and Audrika’s houses. When he did, the boys could see the smiling cartoon carrot stitched onto the cap and a pair of bushy eyebrows beneath the brim.

  “Farmer Phil,” Joe said under his breath.

  The next time Phil turned to glance at Vic and Audrika, the Hardy brothers were standing right in front of him.

  Farmer Phil took a surprised step backward. “Oh, um, hey, Joe. Hey, Frank. Great party, right?”

  “Not for everyone,” Frank said, looking across the street at Audrika and Vic.

  Phil chuckled nervously. “Oh yeah. That woodchuck problem you were telling me about.”

  “Only, it turns out woodchucks weren’t the real problem,” Joe said.

  “They, um, weren’t?” Phil started fidgeting with his hat.

  “We solved the woodchuck problem when I put up my Woodchuck Defense System and Joe put out the fruit buffet to keep the critters happy,” Frank explained. “It turns out there was a different kind of pest.”

  “There was?” Phil started slowly backing away.

  But Joe wasn’t going to let the farmer get away. “Yeah, one with a reason to sabotage the FEEL Contest, because it was bad for their business.”

  “They heard about the woodchucks and decided they’d use them as cover to sabotage the neighborhood’s best gardens and blame it on the critters,” Frank said, picking up the story.

  “They did?” Phil took another couple of steps back, but Joe and Frank kept following him until he bumped into a neighbor’s fence. “Oof!”

  “Do you know how our spoilsport knew there was a woodchuck problem?” Joe asked.

  Phil shook his head.

  “Because we told him,” Frank said. “Sound familiar?”

  This time, Phil shook his head so hard, his hat fell off.

  Joe knelt to pick it up and dusted it off. “Turns out he’s been our overripe fruit hookup from the start. We even told him bananas were the most popular item in the woodchuck buffet, so he knew exactly what to use as bait to lure them into our friends’ gardens.” Joe handed the hat to his brother.

  “Those friends just happen to have the best gardens on the block,” Frank said, offering the hat back to Farmer Phil. “Or they did, until you sabotaged them.”

  “Who—what—I—no—you—I’d—me—never!” Phil had gone pale.

  “You told us you weren’t worried about the contest costing you business because you had a hunch you’d have your customers back soon,” Joe pressed. “Now we know why you were so confident.”

  When Frank glanced back across the street, the judges were in front of Vic’s house. Vic stared up at them with puppy-dog eyes as they examined the empty trellis where his cucumbers had been. One of the judges sighed and shook his head before making a note on his clipboard. Vic’s lip quivered as the pair left and continued next door to Audrika’s garden.

  Phil winced and clutched his hat to his chest.

  “So much for your Philosophy, huh? You talk about growing our community, eating local, and not wasting food. I guess that doesn’t include local kids’ cucumbers, peppers, and cabbages.” Frank peered back across the street at Audrika, who was fidgeting in front of her missing cabbage patch, trying to keep the judges from noticing the gaps. It didn’t work. The female judge walked around her, looked down at the cabbage-less soil, pursed her lips, and made a note on her clipboard.

  “My Philos—” Phil stopped as Audrika and Vic both came out onto the sidewalk. Their heads were down, and it looked like Vic was holding back tears. Phil hung his own head. “It’s supposed to be all about the importance of locally grown food, and there’s nothing more local than a person’s own yard.” He stared at the smiling carrot on his cap. “The last time you picked up fruit from me, I said I didn’t have any ripe bananas to spare. I lied. I saved them so I could lure the woodchucks into your neighbors’ gardens.”

  “They’re your neighbors too,” Frank reminded him.

  Phil gulped. “I got the idea when you first told me you had a woodchuck problem. I was so worried about my business, I sabotaged kids who were doing the exact thing I believe in most. My Philosophy is about sustainable food and friendship. But I haven’t been a very good friend.”

  Phil watched as Audrika went over to the fence the kids had put up together, sat next to Vic, and offered him a handful of blueberries from her garden. He sniffled, took one, and smiled.

  “By ruining the best gardens and blaming the woodchucks, I thought I could discourage people from gardening, so more of them would have to buy their veggies from me again,” Phil continued. “Vic’s parents used to be my best customers before the family started gardening. I hadn’t thought about who I was hurting—or how I was hurting the things I believe in.”

  “The cucumber culprit comes clean,” Joe said.

  “Too bad the damage is already done.” Frank glared at Phil. “Audrika and Vic will probably both lose the contest because of it.”

  “I know it doesn’t make up for what I’ve done, but I can give them all the seedlings they want from my own farm to replace the plants that were destroyed,” Phil offered.

  “You’re right,” Frank said. “It doesn’t make up for the damage.” He paused as Phil ducked his head even lower. “But it is a start. And there might be something else you can do.”

  Joe saw Frank watching the judges and snapped his fingers. “Follow us!” he said to Phil. “You can tell the judges exactly why our friends’ gardens aren’t as glorious as they should be.”

  * * *

  After the judges were done inspecting all the gardens—including the Hardys’—all the neighbors gathered around the stage for the big announcements. Frank, Joe, Audrika, Vic, and Violet stood together as the judges read off the winners and honorable mentions for each category. Finally, only the top prize was left, and none of their names had been called.

  “Sorr
y, bro,” Joe said, putting his arm around Frank’s shoulder. “I know how much you wanted an honorable mention.”

  The judge cleared her throat. “And the winner of the grand prize for Top Edible Lawn goes to… Drumroll please, DJ!”

  “I don’t think either of us are going to win, Vic,” Audrika said quietly.

  “It’s okay,” Vic replied. “We both know how amazing our gardens really are, even if the judges didn’t get to see all our hard work.”

  The drumroll rattled through the DJ’s speakers, followed by the judge’s voice:

  “Vic Blake!”

  Vic looked up in surprise. “I won?”

  “And…,” the other judge said, taking the microphone. “Audrika Khaleel!”

  Audrika did a double take. “We won?”

  The judges beamed down at them from the stage.

  “Due to special circumstances, we’re proud to have two worthy winners!” the second judge added.

  “We won!” Vic and Audrika shouted together.

  “WOO-HOO!” Frank, Joe, and Violet cheered, and started jumping up and down along with their friends.

  “Free pickles for the champs!” Violet announced.

  “I may not have gotten the honorable mention I was hoping for, but this is even better,” Frank said. He glanced at the back of the crowd, where Farmer Phil stood by himself.

  Phil smiled shyly and tipped his cap.

  There was a buzzing sound from the stage as the first judge took the microphone again.

  “A certain mysterious matter has been brought to our attention, so we have decided to award a special prize in a brand-new gardening category to”—the judge paused—“Frank and Joe Hardy!”

  “Huh?” the brothers said at the same time.

  “Please give a round of applause for our winners of the Garden Gumshoe Award!”

  Audrika, Vic, and Violet burst into cheers.

  “You guys sure are the best veggie investigators in town.” Vic threw his arms around the brothers’ shoulders, while Violet handed them each a celebratory pickle.