The Secret of Skull Island
For Dashiell and Philip
STERLING CHILDREN'S BOOKS and the distinctive Sterling Children's
Books logo are trademarks of Sterling Publishing Co., Inc.
© 2011 by Dona Smith
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,
without prior written permission from the publisher.
ISBN 978-1-4027-7912-1
Sterling ebook ISBN: 978-1-4027-9804-7
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Norris, Zack.
The secret of Skull Island / by Zack Norris.
p. cm. â (Double Detectives; #1)
Summary: Twins Otis and Cody Carson, their father Hayden, cousin
Rae Lee, and family friend Maxim, go to a Caribbean island where Aunt
Edith's dream of running an inn is being hampered by ghostly activities and
deceitful guests.
ISBN 978-1-4027-7912-1
[1. Swindlers and swindlingâFiction. 2. Taverns (Inns)âFiction.
3. IslandsâFiction. 4. BrothersâFiction. 5. TwinsâFiction.
6. Caribbean AreaâFiction. 7. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.N7995Sec 2011
[Fic]âdc22
2010046090
For information about custom editions, special sales, and premium
and corporate purchases, please contact Sterling Special Sales
Department at 800-805-5489 or [email protected].
Designed by Susan Gerber
Lot #:
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
07/11
www.sterlingpublishing.com/kids
Contents
T
he Boss wasn't happy, and when the Boss wasn't happy, no one in his gang was happy. He was getting angry, too. The gang knew that
that
was a dangerous thingâfor all of them. He could take his anger out on anyone.
The gang's head man stood in the shadows, his cell phone pressed tightly to his ear, his guts in a twist. As he listened, his expression went from tense and frightened to angry and resentful. The Boss was chewing him out ⦠again.
“I put you in charge of this operation and now I have a mess, Bobo,” the Boss snarled. “It's going to mess up our sweet deal. It's going to mess up my money.” Bobo heard him exhale through his teeth. “I'm not pleased. What I want is to be pleased.”
“Look, Boss, this all happened so fast. How could I have known? It wasn't my fault ⦔ the head man protested.
“Stop whining about how it wasn't your fault, Bobo!” the Boss snapped. “You're always supposed to know what's going on.”
The Boss breathed into the phone heavily. Bobo could almost see the sneer on the man's face and smell the stink of smoke from his cigar. He hated the way the Boss talked to him and treated himâand the way they all had to call him “Boss.”
I'm smarter than any of the other guys in this gang,
Bobo thought.
I'm probably smarter than the Boss, too.
“Bobo, I want you to make this problem go away. I want it fixed, and I want it done
quietly
. Nobody suspects who you are. Nobody knows what's going on. Nobody starts nosing around for
pirate treasure
.” He snickered nastily. “And I don't want the law on my back.”
“I'm already taking care of it, Boss,” blurted Bobo. “I've got the whole plan made up ⦔
“Shut up!” snapped the Boss. “I don't want to hear about your smart ideas, you nitwit. Just do what I told you. And make sure there's no problem with the big job, either.”
Bobo heard a click as the Boss ended the conversation without even saying good-bye. He clenched his fists at his sides. He was sick of being ordered around and called names.
“I hate working for this guy,” he muttered under his breath. “I ought to have my own outfit. I'd love to give him the double cross.”
“T
he legend says that Calavera Island is haunted by the ghost of a pirate who used the place as his hideout,” said twelve-year-old Cody Carson, his brown eyes wide. He turned away from his laptop and glanced at his twin brother, Otis, who looked just like him.
Without looking up from his book,
How to Spot a Liar Every Time
, Otis pushed a lock of brown hair off his forehead, wrinkled his freckled nose, and shrugged. “I don't believe in ghosts,” he said. “It's not like it's the first time you've talkedâand talked and talked and talkedâabout that ghost.”
Otis reached out and scratched the ears of their golden Labrador named Dude. The dog slapped his tail back and forth in appreciation. The sight caused the parrot, Pauly, to screech in protest. “Pet me! Pet me!” he shrieked.
“Oh, hush, bird,” said Rae Lee, the twins' favorite cousin and the coolest girl they knew. Rae was sprawled on the floor next to the boys, a page from the newspaper spread in front of her. Rae's house was nearby, on Cold Stream Lane, and she spent lots of time at her uncle's place.
Deerville, where they all lived, was a small, artsy little town in upstate New York. The twins' father, Hayden Carson, was one of many painters there, and one of the best known. He still lived in the same small farmhouse he'd bought before he was famous, when the twins' mother was still alive. She had died in a car accident when the boys were very young.
“Y'know,” Rae said, shaking her short black hair and frowning, “I wouldn't be so sure there aren't any ghosts. There are lots of legends about haunted places. I haven't made up my mind whether they exist or not.”
Mr. Carson looked up from his sketchbook. “Well, maybe the pirate's ghost is what has been giving your aunt Edith so much trouble,” he said with a chuckle. “I guess we'll find out for ourselves when we get to the island tomorrow.”
Aunt Edith was really the boys' great-aunt, their grandmother's sister, but everybody just called her Aunt Edith. She had recently opened an inn on the Caribbean island of Calavera, and there had been trouble from the beginning.
Nearly every day she called long distance about something that had gone wrong. “It's like this inn is under a black cloud!” she complained.
“What's the latest from Aunt Edith?” Cody asked.
“It sounds like more of the same. Things keep breaking, she runs out of hot water, that sort of thing. Do you think a pirate ghost could be blamed for that?” Mr. Carson asked.
“Ghosts can play all kinds of tricks,” Cody said. “Maybe he wants the place to himself again.” He turned and looked at everyone solemnly. “A ghost like that could turn ugly and do something really scary.”
Rae gave him a sidelong glance. “Too much drama, Cody.” She grinned.
Otis groaned. “Way,” he agreed. “And way too much talking.”
“Oh, I think Aunt Edith's problems are just the kind of things that happen when a new place is opened,” said Mr. Carson. “Starting a new business isn't easy.” He flipped to a new page in his sketchbook and went on drawing.
“
Calavera
means âskull' in Spanish, so it's really âSkull Island,'” Cody went on. “And that pirate I told you about? He had a skull tattooed on his chest. Pirate tattoos had special meanings, you know.”
“You've told us that. Lots of times,” said Otis. “Blah, blah, blah.” He kept his eyes glued to his book.
“
Sit on a potato pan, Otis
,” his brother said cheerfully. Cody loved coming up with palindromesâexpressions that are spelled the same backward and forward. “Sit on a potato pan, Otis” was one of his favorites and had been used over and over again.