Chapter 8: Where Are the Mushrooms?

Mr. Blaine’s house was no ordinary house, and his garage was no ordinary garage.  For one thing, it was a little bigger than usual.  For another thing, it was a little fuller than usual.  Porsches, Ferraris, Aston Martins—you name it, Mr. Blaine probably had it.

In the midst of all these sat a car quite different from the rest: the Maserati Quattroporte.  It was the only Maserati in the garage, but there were other things about this car that made it different.  It had some special features as well.  Special, special features.  It also didn’t belong to Blaine; it had been left at his residence specifically for the Lawrences.

“What a car!” said Drew, thrilled to be the driver.  “I should have left you all at home!”

“Well, if you had,” said Carol, in mock protest, “you’d never have heard what I found out about the Graz Conference.”

“Yes, tell me about it,” said Drew.  “I’m eager to hear.”

Carol pulled out her fake compact and flipped it open. “Schlegel mentioned it at the golf match, right?”

“Definitely,” replied Drew.

“Schlegel’s name wasn’t on the list of attendees, but Germany was at the forefront.  They failed to fully account for their navy.  The U.S. and Canada are certain they’ve spotted German nuclear subs that Germany’s not acknowledging.”

“Really?” said Drew.

“There’s more,” said Carol.  “I looked through our records of who was at the conference.  Who does this look like?”

“Hold on a second,” said Drew, pulling over.  He glanced at the compact.  “Holy cow!  That’s Schlegel!”

“Uh-huh,” said Carol.  “Only, he didn’t go by Schlegel at the conference.  He was Helmut Weber there.”

“Interesting,” said Drew.  “So he’s some sort of spy.”

“It looks like we’ve found our man,” said Edward.

“Not so fast,” said Drew.  “There are other suspects.  Jean-Luc Bourdon knows nothing about hockey.  The Nordiques haven’t played in Quebec since 1995.”

“We know he’s a spy,” said Carol.

“But what for?” asked Edward.

“I don’t know,” said Drew.  “Are Bourdon and Schlegel working together, or are they even working on the same thing?  We don’t know yet, and if we nab one of them, the other is certain to get suspicious.  We’ve got to find out more.”

“Maybe we’ll learn something at the restaurant,” said Carol.  “Isn’t that it, up ahead?”

“You’re right,” said Drew, quickly getting over into the right lane and drawing a honk from the guy behind him.  He turned over a slight bump into the old, cement parking lot for the drive-in.  At 5:22, it wasn’t very crowded, and Drew had no trouble finding a parking place.  He leaned out and pushed a button.

“Welcome to Don’s!  What can we get for you?”

“Hi, I’d like the number 3 please,” said Drew.  “With mushrooms.”

“With mushrooms?” said the voice.  “Coming right up.”

“Now, we wait,” said Drew.  He looked around.  “Nice view of the water, isn’t it?”

“Look at all the boats,” said Carol.  “Must be a nice day to go sailing.”

“And all the signs,” said Edward.  “You can tell this is a tourist area.”

“Where are we going to eat?” asked Renee.

“We can go to that McDonald’s across the street after this,” said Drew.  “My guess is they only give out one number three a night.  We—oh, hello.”

Already, a drive-in waitress had roller-skated up. She handed Drew an envelope and skated away without waiting for any money.

“Why, what’s—oh!”  Written on the envelope, in big letters, was “Number three—with mushrooms.”

Drew rolled up the window.  “Come on; let’s go,” he said.  “I’ll drive through McDonald’s.  Then, you can give the contents a look, Carol, while we go back to the house.”

There was a long drive-through line at the Golden Arches, and fifteen minutes passed before the four were finally on their way.  Carol, wearing gloves (the thin kind that are easy to grab stuff with), gently opened the envelope.

“What’s in it?” asked Edward from the backseat.

“It’s—a movie ticket.”

“A movie ticket?” asked Drew.  “Which movie?”

“Day of the Dinosaurs 3,” said Carol.  “It’s for tomorrow night at 7.”

“Anything else?”

Carol turned the envelope upside down, held it up to the light, and scrutinized it carefully.  “Just the ticket,” she said.

“Interesting,” said Drew.  “Guess I know what I’m doing tomorrow.”

His siblings might have been disappointed, only none of the Lawrences were big dinosaur movie buffs.  Anyway, they had more important things to worry about.  Such as—

“We’re being followed,” said Edward.

“Oh-oh,” said Drew.  “Who?”

“A green Cadillac,” said Edward.  “I first noticed it in the McDonald’s parking lot when we picked up our food.  It’s been following us ever since.”

“I see,” said Drew.  “This movie ticket probably wasn’t meant for us, then.  Hang on, everybody!” he said, stepping on the gas pedal.  Though it was only a 45-mph zone, the Maserati jumped up to 80.

So did the Cadillac.  “We’re not losing them,” said Carol, glancing back.

“Faster, then,” said Drew, boosting the speedometer to ninety.

“I hope we don’t get pulled over,” said Carol.

“They’re still coming,” said Renee, “but we’re pulling away a bit.”

“Good,” said Drew, as they rounded a curve.  “See that turnoff up ahead?”

“Which one?” said Carol.

“This one!” said Drew.  The tires shrieked as Drew made one of the sharpest turns of his life.  The car swerved a bit and sped onto a small gravel road.  Drew went a few feet before hitting the brakes.

Behind them, the Cadillac headed straight past.

“We’ll give them a few minutes; then we’ll keep going,” said Drew.  “You know, I’m really starting to look forward to this movie.”