Secrets at the Chocolate Mansion (6 page)

“He was amazing on the walk, but as soon as we headed back into the apartment building, he started freaking out. I actually had to carry him most of the way here.”

Lisa looked at Caroline. “Yeah, I don't know what's up with him. His vet told us that adjusting to a new home might take time, but we had no idea he'd be this out of sorts!”

“It is weird,” I said.

We all watched Nofarm curl himself up into a ball in the back corner of the living room.

“I hear you're babysitting on Saturday night,” said Lisa.

“Hopefully,” I replied. “I just need to ask my mom for permission. I'll talk to her tonight and call you later, okay?”

Before she could answer me, Beckett raced across the living room screaming and waving a red plastic hammer, a pair of underwear on his head. “I hope those are clean,” Lisa yelled.

As I headed back downstairs I felt a sudden icy chill on my back. Also, I felt oddly short of breath. Not like I was suffocating, but almost. The ghost of Margaret is who I thought of, but I don't know why because there's no such thing as ghosts. Still, it all made me wonder—when it came to getting permission to babysit, did I want my mom to say yes, or no?

“It's no fair. How come you get all the jobs?” asked Finn. “Dog walking. Babysitting.”

“You're allergic to dogs,” I reminded him. “And the babysitting job just sprang organically from taking care of Nofarm.”

“Still,” said Finn. “I could totally use the cash. Oliver is working at the comic book store and Red gets paid to help his mom sell stuff on eBay, so I'm the only one of my friends who's always broke. I had to ask Mom for an advance on my allowance this week so I can go to the movies with Lulu.”

“Hey, you asked me to borrow cash so you can go to that movie,” I said.

“Right, because Mom said no. She's already advanced me two weeks' allowance. So according to her, I need to learn how to live within a budget.”

“By borrowing money from your sister?” I asked.

“Exactly!” Finn grinned, and held out his hand for me to slap.

Obviously, I ignored it. “That smile probably works really well when you want something from Mom or Lulu, but I'm not buying it.”

Even though I said this, I had to admit it was hard to stay mad at my brother. “How about I ask Lisa and Caroline to use us both next time?” I asked.

“That would be awesome,” said Finn. “Thanks.”

“Hey, have you ever heard of the Adams mansion on Eighth Avenue and Carroll Street?” I asked.

“Nope,” said Finn. “How come?”

“That's where Beckett lives now. I went over there with Milo, and he had this whole story about some maid who died in the elevator who's haunting the place, and—”

“Wait—are you talking about the ghost at the chocolate mansion?” asked Finn.

“So you have heard of it?” I asked.

“Sure. I just didn't know where it was.”

“Huh,” I said. “What else do you know?”

“Nothing,” said Finn. “Just that it's haunted. Red went there last Halloween and he swears he saw the ghost, but I don't believe him.”

“Because ghosts don't exist, right?” I asked.

“Um, of course not,” said Finn, looking at me carefully. “Are you okay, Mags?”

“Fine,” I said, not really wanting to get into the whole story about my fight with Milo. If you can call it a fight; I'm still not sure. I flopped down on the couch next to my brother and changed the subject. “You'll love Beckett. The kid's hilarious.”

“Hey, you did ask Mom for permission already, right?” asked Finn.

“Permission for what?” My mom asked as she walked into our room.

“How are you so good at sneaking up on us?” asked Finn.

“It's in the parent handbook,” Mom said with a wink. “Right between chapters on how to tell when your kid is lying to you and methods of punishment.”

“Funny,” Finn said.

“What are you doing home so early?” I asked.

“My class got out early today,” she replied.

My mom has recently taken up sculpting, because she's trying to get in touch with her creative side.

“Oh,” Finn and I said at the same time.

“So, what do you need permission for?” she asked.

I gulped, wishing I'd had more time to prepare my defense. “Babysitting,” I said, sitting up straighter and speaking with as much confidence as I could muster.
“On Saturday night. Lisa and Caroline want to celebrate their anniversary. And the last time they took Beckett to a restaurant, he poured water on the busboy. The owner asked them not to return, and they're running out of local restaurants they're allowed to show their faces in.”

“You went and got yourself another job?” Mom asked. “Are you sure you have time for all this? What about school? And fun?”

“Told you,” Finn whispered.

I ignored him, as usual, and turned to my mom. “Dog walking
is
fun, and I still have plenty of time for homework. Please let me try it for one night, and I'll see how it goes. You're the one who wanted us to take that babysitting course; what's the point of all that knowledge if I'm not putting it to work? Plus, hopefully Finn can start babysitting for them, too. It'll be good for him. You know—it'll keep him off the streets.” I poked my brother's side.

Finn slapped my hand away. “Yeah, I'm really at risk here.”

“You make a well-argued case,” Mom said, in her best lawyer tone.

Did I mention my mom is a lawyer?

No?

My mom is a lawyer.

Mom considered my plea for a few moments before answering.

“Okay. You can try it next weekend. Please leave me the address. And didn't Beckett's family just move? Where are they now?”

“They're two blocks away,” I told her, “at Eighth Avenue and Carroll Street.”

“You mean near the old Adams family mansion?” my mom asked. “Doesn't Beatrix live in that high-rise, too?”

“They're not in the high-rise,” I said. “They moved into the mansion. Or at least, they're in one of the apartments. The one on the fifth floor.”

“I didn't realize people were still willing to live there,” she said. “They must've gotten a really good deal.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

This funny expression came over my mom's face. Her eyes—normally so alert, too perceptive for me and Finn to get away with anything—went vacant.

Oh, and she didn't bother answering my question.

“Mom?” I asked.

She stared off into space as if she'd been fully zombified.

“Hey, Mom?” I repeated, louder this time.

No reply. She was starting to scare me.

“MOM!” I screamed.

She finally snapped out of it. “What?” she asked, blinking at me in confusion, as if she hadn't heard me talking to her for the past few minutes.

“So, can I do it? Babysit, I mean.”

“Sure,” she said. “If you want to.”

“I do,” I said. “And why do you seem so surprised? About the mansion, I mean.”

“No reason,” she said quickly.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because I've heard about the rumors about the ghost of Margaret. Don't tell me you believe in ghosts, too.”

“What rumors? I'm going to get started on dinner,” she said. Which, I don't need to point out, was not exactly the answer I was looking for. Or any answer at all, for that matter. But I decided to let it go, because Sonya was calling.

I picked up my cell and said, “Hey, what's up?”

“You tell me,” said Sonya. “Do you have any leads on the ice-cream-parlor sabotage?”

“Ugh, not yet,” I said as I wandered into my room and sat down cross-legged on the floor. “Sorry; it's been a hectic afternoon. I'll try to come over to the store tomorrow. Will it be open?”

“Absolutely,” said Sonya. “We're not going to be intimidated by anyone. I'm not, anyway. My mom is freaking out, though. She's already talking about shutting down the business.”

“Because of one window?” I asked.

“That's exactly what I said,” Sonya told me. “But I get why she's freaked. Opening this business was a lot more expensive than she thought it would be. If it's not
a success, well … I don't know what, exactly. But it's not going to be good.”

“I'll swing by first thing and see if I can figure something out.”

“That's perfect. Thanks so much,” Sonya gushed. “We open at ten.”

“I know,” I said.

“See? You're so smart. You'll figure everything out in no time.”

“No pressure,” I said.

“Oh, there's lots of pressure,” Sonya assured me.

“I know. I was kidding. Anyway, I'll see you there.”

“Thanks, Maggie. You're the best. I knew we could count on you.”

I wanted to remind her that I hadn't actually done anything yet, but she hung up before I had the chance. I headed back into the living room and sat down next to Finn. He was watching some reality show.

“What's this?” I asked.

“Don't know,” Finn replied.

The show seemed to be about a bunch of grizzled old geezers with long, scraggly beards.

“Is it good?” I asked.

“Nope,” said Finn, his eyes glued to the screen.

I pulled out my new spy notebook. Lulu made it for me as a present after solving my last mystery—finding her retainer before her parents discovered it was missing.
(This involved Dumpster diving, which is all I'm gonna say.) Anyway, the notebook says
MAGGIE BROOKLYN, DOG-WALKING DETECTIVE
across the front in sparkly rainbow colors. Using it makes me feel half cool private investigator and half dorky kid playing a game. Except the mysteries I solve are real, so I don't know why I get self-conscious about it sometimes. Anyway, flipping to a fresh page in my notebook, I made a list.

THE SABOTAGE OF SONYA'S SWEETS

1) Who broke the window? And how?

2) What was their motive?

3) Where are they now?

4) How am I supposed to figure any of this out?

From there I was stumped.

I'm glad Sonya had faith in me, but her confidence put a lot of pressure on me, too. Just because I'd solved a bunch of mysteries in the past didn't mean I could solve every mystery in the world. What if this one left me clueless? It's not like I had a lot of clues to go on. Oh, but there was the note:

The evidence: one threatening note, printed on the back of a box of Thin Mints Girl Scout cookies in blue highlighter. Neat penmanship. Ominous words.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked, turning off the TV.

“Trying to solve the case of the Sabotage of Sonya's Sweets,” I said.

Finn laughed. “I like that you've actually named your case. That's oh-so-Nancy-Drew of you!”

I threw a throw pillow at Finn's head. “If you're going to make fun, I won't bother talking to you,” I said.

“Sorry, I was only trying to help. You seem so stressed out.”

“I'm fine,” I said, closing my notebook. The case worried me, but that wasn't all that was on my mind. I'd texted Milo and called him, too, but hadn't heard a word from him since he stormed off earlier today. All the radio silence left me feeling unsettled.

“Dinner's ready,” my mom called, peeking into the living room.

“Where's Dad?” Finn asked as we headed to the table.

“He's out with a friend,” said Mom. “So it's just us.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Finn, did you finish your homework?” she asked.

“It's Saturday night,” said Finn.

“Yes, and I thought you wanted to go to that movie with Lulu later.”

“I do,” Finn said. “Which is exactly why I finished
my homework this afternoon. I'll show you as soon as we're done eating.”

“That sounds great,” Mom said.

“Hey, how come you're not asking Maggie?” Finn wondered.

“Because she already told me she did her homework yesterday,” Mom said. “And I saw it.”

“Right,” I said. “I finished early because I had such a busy day, between the Sonya's Sweets opening and walking Nofarm at his new house at Eighth Avenue and Carroll. In that so-called haunted mansion.”

Our mom grabbed some bread out of the bread basket and ripped off a small piece. “So, how would you two feel about going away this Christmas?” she asked. “Dad and I were talking about taking a vacation. Maybe to Costa Rica.”

“Can Lulu come?” asked Finn.

Mom glared at him. “No, your girlfriend cannot come on our family vacation.”

“But she's Maggie's best friend,” Finn tried. “So it's a win-win.”

I shook my head. “Dude, you are pathetic!”

“But it's true,” said Finn. He continued to make his case, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. I couldn't help but notice that every time I brought up the haunted mansion, my mom changed the subject.

I tried calling Milo after dinner, but his phone kept going straight to voice mail. He must be avoiding my calls.

I never would've laughed at him if I'd known he was that serious about the ghost thing.

Not right to his face, anyway.

“You're not doing anything tonight?” asked Finn, as he changed from one stained sweatshirt into another, less-stained sweatshirt.

“Everyone's busy,” I said.

“Want to come out with me and Lulu?” Finn asked.

I huffed out a small breath. “It's weird enough that you're going out with my best friend. I don't need to go out on dates with you all the time, too. I mean, once a day is enough, believe me.”

“Sorry for trying to keep you from staying home alone on a Saturday night,” said Finn.

“I'm not alone. Mom's around,” I said. “Plus, I have a lot to do.”