Detectives, Espionage, and Thieves

The More the Marrier (not)

                             -Teddy
             

You would think the CIA would have a bit of punctuality. But no, in my experience, they didn't at all.

We were standing there, the hot sun beating down on us as we stared at the back of the 'Welcome To Funjungle' sign, for a half hour more than we were supposed to be waiting for the other kids. I suppose no one thought of putting a bench right near the entrance, since you wouldn't be tired from just walking into the amusement park, but I cursed the designers as the ever-so-temping waterfalls from Hippo River roared behind us.

                    My girlfriend, Summer McCracken, had since resorted to run down to the closed FunJungle convenience store and grab the two of us an otter-pop every once and a while. Her father, J.J. McCracken, had told us to wait to greet our partners in the investigation, and while Summer was usually excellent about disobeying her dad, she was always extra excited about detective-work.

"Oh my god," She groaned for the third time in ten minutes. "When will they ever get here? This is my fourth popsicle."

"No idea,"I chirped through my melted one. I had always enjoyed the Otter-pop juice more than the frozen stuff, so I was trying to be optimistic about the extra sweets.

Right when I was about to give up and say I was going to the Polar Pavilion, a silver pick-up truck pulled into the parking lot. From what we could see from how far away it was, the bed of the truck was full of kids.

                         That definitely wasn't the CIA, right? Then again, the park was closed due to the suspicious animal deaths. Who else could it be?

                         "You're joking," Summer retorted. "The U.S. government is not showing up to a crime scene investigation in a run down Ford, with kids practically hanging out the windows."

                          "I'm pretty sure they are." I squeezed her hand. It was sticky with melted popsicle.

The array of people that hopped into the parking lot and approached us, arms filled with duffel bags, were not at all what I was expecting spies to look like. I'm not even sure what I was expecting, but not a group of average people with one really sweaty middle-aged man in a tuxedo. They looked like normal people. I suppose that's what made them such good spies.

The tux man flashed me a shimmering smile that reminded me of Pete Thwacker. "Alexander Hale. You must be Teddy Fitzroy—and of course, Summer McCracken."

The two of us awkwardly greeted him back. It certainly was an array of people. There was a pretty woman in a pink sundress that seemed the same age as Mr. Hale,( Catherine Hale, apparently) a clean-cut tan boy of about 15, (he introduced himself as Jawaharlal O'Shea) a grinning girl in khaki shorts, (Zoe Zibbell) a good-looking tall boy, (Chip Schacter) an average-looking boy in beat-up red converse, (Ben Ripley) a beautiful raven haired girl dressed head to toe in black, (Erica Hale, I had no idea how she hadn't passed out.) and a boy wearing a garish Snakes Alive tee shirt that looked utterly thrilled to be here. (Mike Brezinski)

                           I tried not to cringe as I shook sticky hands with each of them, and before we knew it, we were showing them to the ocean themed hotel and doing our best to explain the situation to them.

                                     "My father has racked it all up to a weird infection that can pass between species," Summer stated.

                                     "That's what the public knows, at least," I clarified.

                                     "Oh—yes. That's why the park is closed, we're 'not sure if it can spread to humans' and 'don't want to put the safety of our customers at risk'."

                                      "Of course, if it's a murder as we've all been suspecting, the guests very well might be in danger too."

                               The whole group of spies had been listening intently  to what we had to say. When we had finished, it was as if they were waiting for more. The girl in black even gave me a 'that's all?' look. That was all. That's all we knew. It was the strangest thing in the world. The last time Funjungle had a really significant animal death was with Henry the hippo, and that was hard enough to figure out, but now there were 6. None of them had hardly any similarities, and the deaths were sporadic and odd. Wilber the wildebeest and Shannon the hornbill had been poisoned with natural poisons, while Tilly the tortoise had cyanide poisoning. Lily and Mel, the leopards, had a much more painful death, having had bleach in their water.
      
                                 The only thing they seemed to have in common were poisonings of some kind, and the fact that our merchandise shops were always broken into the night before. Jawaharlal brought this break-in thing up, Summer and I had almost forgotten it with all the excitement.

                                 We had reached the hotel's front desk. it was sparkly blue and had an arch-shaped aquarium over it. The name tag on the scrawny man that sat at the counter said 'Samuel' in bad cursive. I didn't recognize him. He flashed a weird grin.

                                      "Welcome to Funjungle," He passed Alexander and Catherine three room keys. "I hope you enjoy your stay."