Wow! What a great month for the OAC! I've got a lot of news to pack into one article, and not much time to do it. Let's try this...
First on the agenda is the new episode, B-TV: To Tell the Truth. (That's a lot of T-words in one title), It's cool. Hint: photo:
Yeps, that's it. Here's the summery:
What's the truth about "truth"? Our investigation takes us from the Odyssey courthouse, to ancient Jerusalem . . . and beyond.
Hmm... I'll expound on this later...
Next! A new comic adventure of Captain Absolutely is coming out here!!!!
And last, we release a free Jones and Parker mystery, from the OAC!
Detectives must be careful to search for the right clues. A lot of little details can distract from solving a mystery. Those distractions are called “red herrings.” Red herrings appear to be clues, but they have no true impact on the solution of the mystery. In other words, red herrings can throw a detective off her game.
Today, my sidekick, Matthew Parker, and I were honoring our mothers on Mother’s Day. Instead of sleuthing, I sat in the car with my brother, Barrett, ready for our annual Mother’s Day tradition: doughnuts and hot chocolate at Happy Dunker’s Donut Paradise.
“I’ll drive,” Dad said. “It’s your day off!”
Mom shook her head. “I’ve got it. You take shotgun.”
Dad opened the garage door and made his way to the passenger side.
My mouth was already watering as Mom sat down, pulled the keys out of her purse, adjusted her seat forward and cranked the engine. Her elbow hit a paper coffee cup in the holder between the front seats.
“Hey!” she said to Dad. “You left your cup in here.”
“Not mine,” Dad replied, slinking his long legs into the passenger seat.
Mom shrugged. “I guess it could be mine. I sometimes get a coffee from the corner store.”
Dad laughed. “Well, OK, full disclosure: I do, too. Maybe it’s mine. Last time I was in this car was several days ago, though.”
Mom’s eyebrows went up. “Me, too.”
All this talk didn’t seem too important to me. Not nearly as important as what flavor of doughnuts we were going to eat!
Barrett reached forward, leaning over the center console. He ejected a classical music CD and shoved in a more upbeat CD from his collection. The music suddenly ba-boomed through the car.
“Whoa, that’s certainly not the Pool Boys,” Dad said.
Mom laughed. She put the vehicle in reverse, and we were on our way—almost!
The engine made a horrible scratching sound and quit working. The car stopped 10 feet out of our garage. Mom turned the key again. Scraaaatcchhh, then nothing.
I leaned forward. “What’s happening?”
“I’m not sure,” Mom said, “but I think the oil light came on.”
Dad turned off the music.
Barrett’s eyes darted around the car. “This is not my fault.”
Dashboard and oil light
“And we can’t eat any ourselves,” Barrett added.
Dad’s brow furrowed. “Maybe,” he said, exiting the car. “But there are lots of ways to honor your mom besides with sugar, you know—like respecting her, obeying her and loving her.”
Leave it to Dad to think beyond doughnuts.
I exited the car. My eyes were drawn directly to the area where the car had been sitting before Mom backed out. There, in the center of the grey garage floor, was a small, black oil slick.
“Is the car leaking oil?” I asked.
Dad stepped forward and surveyed the spill. His nose crunched up. “Well, that would certainly explain it.”
Dad’s face scrunched. “Dorothy,” he exclaimed, “how long have you driven with that light on? The engine could be seriously damaged without oil!”
“Calm down, Simon. This is the first I’ve seen it,” Mom said.
Dad had her pop the hood. He grabbed a rag and checked the oil level. It barely showed up on the dipstick.
“Well that explains it,” he said. “The car is leaking oil. If you ever see that light on, we need to take care of it right away. Are you sure you didn’t ignore the light the last time you drove?”
“I didn’t,” Mom said. “Besides, it has been a few days since either of us has driven this car. You might have been the last one to drive it.”
Dad put back the dipstick. “Impossible. I’m sure I would have noticed that light.”
I stared at the oil spill again. “Well, there isn’t enough oil on the floor for it to have all drained out here in the garage. It certainly does seem that it leaked when one of you was driving. The question is, who was the last person to drive?”
“You don’t have to be a part of the Jones & Parker Detective Agency to solve this mystery,” Barrett said boldly. “The answer is simple. The last person to drive the car was the one who left the coffee cup inside.”
“But that could have been either of us,” Mom said. We both get coffee from the corner store. Only difference is, I use a little more creamer than your dad.”
Barrett Jones with coffee cup
Barrett grabbed the cup and popped off the lid with his thumb. He peered inside. A small bit of chocolate-colored liquid remained at the bottom.
“Who wants to drink this and determine whether it has a lot of creamer in it?” Barrett said. “Here, Mom, you do it.”
“What a way to honor your mother,” I said. “Make her drink a disgusting concoction.”
“Your big words don’t scare me,” Mom said. “No, thanks.”
Dad put up his hands. “Em, you’re a chip off the old block. Please use your super-sleuthing logic to explain to your mother why she must have missed the light the last time she was in the car.”
“No, Em!” Mom said. “Use you logic to prove I’m innocent!”
I smiled. “I do know who missed the light,” I admitted. “But one of you won’t be happy.”
Back to Trent Talking!! If you wanna find the ending, pay five stinkin' bucks and join the OAC!!!