he rest of the morning was a disaster.

The ride from Folly took thirty minutes. Sergeant Corcoran stayed inside the pilot’s cabin, avoiding Ruth. We Morris Islanders crowded together on the bow.

Slowly, Loggerhead materialized before us. And with it, a serious problem.

“Oh boy,” Kit groaned.

Marcus Karsten was pacing the dock. Spotting the police boat he stopped, laced his fingers on his chest, and waited. A bird of prey, preparing to strike.

And Karsten had company. Linus Stolowitski, Nelson Devers, and Tom Blue. It was obvious the fathers had already informed the agitated professor. The trio stood in silence at a safe distance.

“What is this nonsense?” Karsten demanded, before we’d even tied down. “These children”—he spat the word—“claim there are dead bodies on my island? Ridiculous!”

Kit’s face hardened. My heart went out to him. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. But I knew he’d soon be vindicated.

“Dr. Karsten,” Kit answered, soft but firm. “The kids insist they found a human skeleton in the woods. If so, a crime may be involved. They also report that someone chased them firing weapons. We had no choice but to inform the police.”

Karsten’s face grew so red I thought he might explode.

Again, I jumped in unbidden. Dumb, but that’s what I do.

“Just let us show you the damn grave!”

“Tory!” Kit’s eyes whipped to me, then back to his boss.

Karsten pointed both index fingers in my direction, preparing to rip me a new one. Then he paused, seemed to reconsider.

“Very well.” His tone was ice. “Lead on, Miss Brennan. But you’d better be right. For your sake.”

We headed back to the dig site. Third time’s a charm.

My gang led, followed by Karsten and a heavily sweating Sergeant Corcoran. The gaggle of unhappy parents brought up the rear.

Soon Ben spotted the field.

That’s when things bottomed out.

As per our plan, while the group congregated at the grave, I slipped to my duffel. Inside, my tools lay haphazardly, still covered with soil. A quick rummage failed to turn up the dog tags.

“Oh my God!” wailed Ruth Stolowitski. “There are bones down there!”

Linus offered an arm to his wife.

In grim silence, the others peered into the hole. We hadn’t tarped the site, and gusts of wind had covered the remains with a thin layer of dirt.

“Human? No BS?” Corcoran’s entire demeanor had changed.

Told you so, I thought. Then felt bad. What was the point of smug satisfaction?

I refocused. Where the flip were those tags? I was sure I’d put them in the bag, which sat exactly as I’d left it.

“All right.” Karsten’s nose and eyes were pinched, as though he were conducting an unpleasant experiment. “Dr. Howard, please enter the excavation and verify the find.”

Kit hopped into the grave, careful to avoid stepping on the remains. As he landed I shot a quick headshake at the boys. Questioning looks flew back. I shrugged. How should I know? The tags were just gone.

Seconds passed before Kit passed verdict.

“Uh, kids, I think you’ve made a mistake.” He looked... was that... embarrassed?

“A mistake?” Impossible. I bit back the last word.

“I’m sure it was too dark to see clearly.” Kit avoided my eyes. “It’s easy to get confused.”

“Confused? What? The skeleton is right there!”

Kit sighed. “Honey, these are primate bones.”

I rushed to the pit. The others followed.

If eyes really can bug, ours did it.

The human skeleton was gone. In its place lay a jumble of old monkey bones. Anyone could see the stuff wasn’t human.

“What the hell?” squeaked Shelton.

“That’s not what we found!” I cried. “We dug up a young female with a bullet hole in her skull. I’ve never seen these bones before!”

Hi and Ben nodded like bobbleheads, equally astonished.

“Dear lord!” Sergeant Corcoran shot me a wicked look. “Monkey bones on a monkey island. Imagine that.” He wagged his head in disgust. “Kid scientists.”

Karsten snorted. Like Corcoran, he seemed to be enjoying our disgrace.

Hi’s mother was uncharacteristically speechless. Shelton’s parents looked relieved. Tom Blue just shook his head. Our credibility had dropped through the floorboards.

Someone switched the bones!

“The gunmen!” I sputtered. “They snatched the skeleton and planted animal bones in its place!”

“Gunmen?” Corcoran scoffed. “You’re sticking to that crazy terrorist fantasy?”

“Tory,” Kit said, “it was pitch black, right? Maybe you got overexcited after reading about that missing girl, and—”

“Bullets!” I gestured at the trees. “The shooter hit a branch. The slugs will still be there.”

I sprinted for the tree line. The boys followed. The adults didn’t.

Frantically we scanned the canopy.

No damage. No bullets. In the background I could her Kit trying to placate Karsten and Corcoran.

“Tory, look! Eleven o’clock.” Shelton pointed. “See, near the trunk? Someone sawed off a branch and covered the spot with sap.”

Shelton was right. I wanted to scream with frustration.

“The shooters took the dog tags,” Ben said quietly. “That’s why you can’t find them.”

“Then they replaced the skeleton with monkey bones. Making us look like fools.” Hi whistled. “I’m going to catch hell.”

“Not another word until we figure this out,” I ordered. “Got it?”

The boys agreed. Someone clever was working against us. We couldn’t walk blindly into any more traps.

Dejected, we rejoined the adults.

“Find anything?” Kit asked.

I shook my head.

“I’m sure you were frightened,” Lorelei empathized. “In the forest. In the dark. Any loud noise could sound like a gunshot.”

Shelton nodded meekly. No point arguing.

“Hiram Moshe Stolowitski,” Ruth rumbled. “You’re in big trouble, young man!”

Hi rolled his eyes, reconciled to his fate.

“Go easy,” said Kit. “It was an honest mistake.”

“Honest mistake or not, this little escapade killed my morning.” Corcoran turned to Karsten. “In the future, doc, keep your own house in order.”

“I did not invite you here,” Karsten seethed. “But I am inviting you to leave. Now.”

Sensing he’d overplayed his hand, Corcoran lumbered off down the trail. The rest of us fell in step behind him.

“There is another matter,” Karsten called to our retreating backs. “A break-in occurred at Lab Six last weekend.”

We all turned, clearly apprehensive. Except for Ruth, each parent worked in some capacity for LIRI.

“I’ll be conducting an investigation,” Karsten continued, an inquisitor confronting wicked souls. “I expect everyone’s full cooperation.”

“Of course,” Kit answered. The other adults nodded.

“For openers, I want to know why these children are here so much. What they do. Where they go.”

I started to protest. Kit’s hand clamped my shoulder. Firmly. I got the message.

“For now, I’ll only add this.” Karsten smiled without warmth. “If I’d done something foolish, like, say, stolen something, I might try to misdirect the authorities.”

Karsten’s eyes drilled into me.

He suspected. And he wanted me to know.

“And what better way to divert suspicion,” Karsten said, “than to fabricate a tale of masked marauders with firearms rampaging across the island?”

With that, Karsten pushed past us and strode down the trail.