by Laura Dower
But Hart didn’t say anything else. He just stared.
“I like your sweater,” Ivy told him. She batted her eyelashes.
Hart grunted a little. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you like mine?” Ivy asked, looking down at her own lavender short-sleeved top.
Madison wanted to yell, Who cares about your ugly sweater! Instead, she gritted her teeth and bit her tongue. She couldn’t lash out. Madison didn’t want Hart to think she was being mean.
Ivy was still pushing for a compliment from Hart, but he wasn’t offering any.
Madison decided to set a little trap for Ivy. She would work some reverse psychology on the enemy.
“Gee, Ivy,” Madison crooned. “Your hair looks different. What did you do?”
Ivy fell for it. She tossed her hair and grinned. “It is a great haircut, isn’t it? And my hair looks good with this outfit, doesn’t it?” she said.
Hart snickered.
Ivy glared at him. “I’m sorry,” she asked Hart. “Is something funny?”
His eyes opened wide. “Oh, no,” he said, smiling and staring straight ahead.
Madison couldn’t believe it. Usually Hart was the one who acted nicer than nice. But this time, he couldn’t seem to keep a straight face. He had snickered! He had smiled! He was giving Ivy the total brush-off.
“Okay, well, that’s okay…” Ivy stammered. “Are you leaving school now? I’ll walk out with you…”
She reached for Hart’s arm. Hart backed away.
“Actually, I was just talking to Madison here…” Hart said.
Madison almost fainted when he said that. She watched Ivy squirm, nibbling on her lip, very confused. Was Poison Ivy going to start foaming at the mouth? Madison hoped so. It would have made a great picture.
“Well… ?” Ivy said. She’d run out of ideas.
“See you later,” Hart said.
Ivy held her book bag to her chest and pouted, glaring in Madison’s direction. “Later?” she said. “Sure. Whatever.”
As she strutted away, Hart made a funny face. “Ivy is so weird sometimes, like she’s queen of the school or something,” he said, and paused. “But she doesn’t have a clue.”
Madison couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Hart’s putting Ivy down was the next best thing to Hart’s actually telling Madison that he liked her—almost.
He accompanied Madison to her locker. As she opened it, her flute case fell onto the floor, and he picked it up.
“I didn’t know you played flute,” Hart said.
Madison grabbed the case from him. “I don’t play as much as I used to.”
“You know, I play piano,” Hart said.
“Really?” Madison said. She turned toward him. They were standing so close she could almost feel his breath.
“Maddie!” Aimee yelled from down the hall. Madison jumped as Aimee and Fiona raced up to her and slapped her on the back.
“Hi, Hart,” Fiona said.
Hart looked flustered and stepped away from Madison. “Hey, Fiona. Hi, Aim.”
“Hey, Hart, how’s the puppy?” Aimee asked. When her dog Blossom had had puppies, Hart’s parents had bought one of them for him. He’d named it Bones Jones.
“Bonesy ate the rug in my dad’s study,” Hart said.
Madison giggled. “Whoops,” she said.
Hart laughed. “He’s cute, though. How’s Blossom doing?”
“Blossom is still recovering from having pups. She spends most of her time with the two babies we kept,” Aimee said.
“What did you call them?” Hart asked.
“Yin and Yang!” Fiona interrupted. “Can you believe it? Aimee’s mom is so New Age. Hey, has anyone seen Egg around? I wanted to talk to him before soccer practice.”
“I think he went to the gym,” Hart said.
“Yeah, he’s Mr. Workout these days, isn’t he?” Madison said sarcastically.
“Oh! I have to go, then,” said Fiona, reaching into her own locker and stuffing her bag with books for homework. “I’ll E you later,” she called out to Madison and Aimee.
Madison waved. “E you later,” she repeated, hoping that Aimee might disappear, too, and leave Madison alone with Hart once again.
But it was Hart who left next. He said his goodbyes and headed down the hall to meet with a teacher.
“You and Hart make a cute couple,” Aimee said when he was gone.
“Aimee!” Madison shouted. “You’re embarrassing me. Quit it. We are not a couple. We’re friends.”
“Yeah, right!” Aimee said, making a face.
“Want to walk home together?” Madison asked.
“Can’t,” Aimee said. “Dance class.”
“Bummer,” Madison said.
Aimee leaned in and whispered. “So, what were you and the Hunk talking about?”
“The what?” Madison laughed.
“You look pretty today,” Aimee said.
Madison blushed. “Oh, no, I don’t. And we were talking about nothing, as usual. I get so tongue-tied when we’re alone together. It’s dumb.”
Aimee shrugged. She slung her ballet bag over her shoulder. “So what? He still likes you. Even if you are boring!”
Madison whacked Aimee’s arm. “I’m going to get you for that!” she cried as Aimee jogged down the corridor.
“Later!” Aimee cried.
Since no one was available to walk with her, Madison turned back to her locker, got her stuff, and headed out of school by herself. It was a warm afternoon, so she tied her thick red cardigan around her waist and walked along the sunny side of the street. The air smelled like autumn, a perfect mix of leaves, burning firewood, and damp mud. Trees that had worn full coats of red and gold only a few weeks earlier had shed them in piles along the road, and their branches were bare.
As soon as she arrived home, Madison headed upstairs to finish up the math homework from the night before—along with new math problems from that day’s class. She curled up in the corner of her window seat, surrounded by her math book, her notebooks, and, of course, her laptop. She needed to finish typing the file she’d started before dinner started. But when Madison reached into her orange bag, she couldn’t locate the flash drive she needed. She dumped the bag’s entire contents onto the floor of her bedroom. Everything landed with a thud.
Madison looked frantically through the paper, books, and pencil shavings spread out on the floor.
There was no flash drive to be found.
“Maddie!” Mom called out. “Have you seen my keys?”
“No!” Madison called out. “I’ll be right down.”
When she came downstairs, Madison saw her mom looking around for the missing set of house and car keys.
“Where did you have the keys last?” Madison asked.
Mom frowned. “In the car. When I opened the door. I can’t remember. I think I left them here on the hall table, but…”
“You never lose stuff,” Madison commented.
“I know,” Mom said. She shuffled through the pile of newspapers on a hall chair and then moved into the kitchen. “Maybe I left them on the counter?”
Madison and Mom both searched the kitchen from top to bottom. Madison looked under tables and chairs. Mom fished in the pockets of the coat she had been wearing.
Nothing.
“Rowrrooooooo!” Phin howled from the kitchen floor. He wanted them to pay attention to him, not the missing keys.
Madison threw Phin a chew bone to keep him quiet. He grabbed it between his teeth and trotted away. A few moments later, he returned. In his mouth was a fuzzy green slipper.
“Phin!” Mom yelled. “Were you in my room again?” she asked.
Phin dropped the slipper and trotted away.
When he came back a second time, he was playing with Madison’s flash drive. He held it between his paws and licked it.
“Phinnie!” Madison cried. “Noooo! Where did you get that?”
Phin dropped the drive on t
he floor and looked up. His curlicue tail wagged very fast, as if he knew he had done something wrong.
Madison leaned over and retrieved the drive. She wiped off the dog drool and stuck it into the pocket of her jean shirt.
That’s when she got her big idea.
“Mom!” Madison said. “I think I might know where your keys are.”
Taking the stairs two steps at a time, Madison raced up to Mom’s bedroom. Phinnie followed her. She looked all around before she discovered the thing she was seeking—along with a whole bunch of other things.
There in Mom’s closet, way in the back corner, was a small pile of random objects.
On the very top of the pile were Mom’s keys, right next to Mom’s other green fuzzy slipper.
“Phinnie!” Madison said, laughing. “You’re some thief! You have Mom’s keys, slipper, her scarf, two or three of those rawhide chew toys I thought you’d eaten already, your missing collar tags, a tennis ball… yuck!”
Madison recoiled. The tennis ball was still wet with dog drool even though it hadn’t been touched in a while.
By now, Mom had joined them in the closet. “I had no idea our dog was such a little pack rat.”
“Me, neither,” Madison said.
“Rowrroroooooo!” Phin barked as if he knew what they were saying.
Madison handed Mom the missing keys. “Here you go,” she said.
Mom shook her head with disbelief. “You saved the day, honey bear,” Mom said, grinning.
“See?” Madison smiled. “I told you Crime Time was good for something.”
Mom pocketed the keys. “Okay, okay. Finish up your homework, and then let’s eat.”
Madison gave Mom a kiss on the cheek and skipped into her bedroom. Phin followed close behind. Madison popped the recovered disk into her computer.
Crime Time
Rude Awakening: Snoop and ye shall find. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but I think I may have a knack for solving mysteries. I know locating a missing disk and keys isn’t like finding some bank robber, but it’s a start.
Move over, Major.
Madison DeMille is on the case.
Chapter 3
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, MADISON Found herself back in the media lab. She decided to finish her homework before heading to her afternoon flute lesson with Mr. Olivetti. Try as she might, however, Madison’s laptop distracted her. Instead of studying, she found herself surfing. She opened her e-mailbox.
FROM
SUBJECT
JeffFinn
Fwd: Fwd: Read This
GoGramma
Miss You
Boop-Dee-Doop
FALL FLING-A-DING
Bigwheels
HELP!!!
Dad sent the first e-mail.
From: JeffFinn
To: MadFinn
Subject: Fwd: Fwd: Read This
Date: Tues 12 Oct 10:09 AM
Hey, Maddie,
Stephanie and I are looking forward to dinner tonight. Steak and fries, as requested--your favorite.
Have you heard this one? Why did the skeleton cross the road? Because the chicken dared him! She said the skeleton had no guts!!!
Couldn’t resist.
Love, Dad
P.S.: Call me when you get home from school and I’ll pick you up.
“Oh, Dad,” Madison moaned to herself. “So lame.”
Dad was always sending her bad, bad jokes, especially around the holidays. She quickly hit DELETE and moved on to the next e-mail.
From: GoGramma
To: MadFinn
Subject: Miss You
Date: Tues 12 Oct 12:11 PM
How are things in Far Hills, my dear? Your mother has not written or called in DAYS and I was a little worried. I know how often you check your mailbox online so this is the best way to get in touch. I’m the same. Still playing cards with Mabel and knitting that afghan I promised you for this winter. I found the perfect sky-blue yarn.
Write back when you can! Love to my favorite pug.
xoxoxo
Gramma
Madison made a mental note to tell Mom about Gramma Helen’s message. She knew the truth: Gramma had probably called once, gotten a busy signal, and then given up and imagined the worst. She did that sometimes.
Another e-mail had a Fall Fling-a-Ding sale coupon attached from Boop-Dee-Doop, Madison’s favorite online store. Perfect! Madison thought. She had just been ogling a pair of cute corduroy pants with flowers embroidered near the cuff. She saved the e-mail and clicked on the next message.
It was from her long-distance keypal, who sounded worried.
From: Bigwheels
To: MadFinn
Subject: HELP!!
Date: Tues 12 Oct 1:58 PM
Where are you?!! I wrote you two different e-mails from school this AM and they came back to me undeliverable. Are you having probs w/ur tweenblurt.com address? I know sometimes mail comes back when the server is too busy.
INYH. My parents are arguing again. Only this time I think it’s for real. Is this the beginning of the Big D for me? Even worse, my little sister is throwing these huge tantrums l8ly too (she is SOOOO annoying. When she whines she sounds like a sick Muppet). I feel like I’m in the middle of this huge mess. What a crummy place 2 be.
Please go online l8r so we can talk.
I’ll be in our usual room CHTTRBX tonite after 6 my time, ok? Can u do it? Be there or B(2).
Yours till the web sites,
Victoria aka Bigwheels
Madison knew she would probably be at Dad’s after six, but she hoped she could find time to chat with Bigwheels anyway, maybe on Dad’s computer. She hit SAVE to make sure she didn’t forget the time or the name of the chat room.
“Shhhh! Someone will hear us!”
Madison turned abruptly from her laptop. Someone squealed somewhere among the stacks of books behind the place where Madison was sitting.
“I said, shut up!” another voice yelled.
The voice sounded familiar, but Madison wasn’t sure whose it was.
She leaned to the side of her chair, craning her neck to get a view of whoever was talking. But now she couldn’t make out any real words—just hushed tones and giggles. She got up slowly from her seat and slid behind a tall bookshelf. Nose to nose with a shelf of biographies, Madison held her breath so she wouldn’t make a sound. She could hear bits and pieces of conversation from where she stood.
“They’re rare!” one girl said. She spoke in a deep whisper.
“… Never find out,” the other girl said. Her voice sounded more like the screaming wheels of a roller coaster.
Madison could make out a few other scraps of conversation in between: “bag,” “music,” and “Don’t tell.”
Who was there? What were they talking about?
Madison bit her tongue and peered through the books on the shelves. Could she identify the two speakers? For a brief moment, Madison thought it might be Poison Ivy and one of her drones, Joan or Rose, but she couldn’t be sure. Her mind raced.
What am I doing here? Madison thought. I never eavesdrop. Why am I eavesdropping? Who’s over there? Maybe I should just turn the corner and speak to them? What is the big secret? Maybe it’s nothing. I’m being so nosy. What am I—?
Madison gulped.
She realized that the voices had stopped. All at once, she dropped to her knees and pretended to be reading a book on the bottom shelf, called Astrophysics Made Easy.
Like anyone would believe she was actually reading that.
“Hide it,” the nonsqueaky voice whispered.
Madison’s ears pricked up again.
“So-o-o-o-o-o much fun!” the other voice said.
Madison realized she could see who was talking through the books on the bottom shelf. She saw a pair of funny blue loafers next to a pair of ratty-looking tennis sneakers with pink shoelaces.
Whose shoes were those?
What
would Major DeMille have done in a situation like this? Madison wondered. Her detective instincts clicked into action. She needed to identify the sneakers and then investigate. Madison stood up slowly, brushed off her pants and took a deep breath. She walked to one end of the tall bookshelf and quickly looped around the other side.
“Excuse me,” Madison said as she turned.
“Yeah?” A boy in a gray sweatshirt stood there holding a giant encyclopedia. “What are you looking at?”
“Um,” Madison felt herself flush. “I thought… you were…” she stammered. “I thought… I heard… girls…”
“Geek,” the boy grunted under his breath.
“Eighth grader,” Madison mumbled back.
But she didn’t have time to be offended. Turning on her heel, she glanced around the library. Where had the girls disappeared to?
She spotted a torn slip of paper on the floor of the library. Had the mystery girls dropped it?
The time and address of an appointment were written in scrawled handwriting with big loops on the y and q.
Friday at 4 @ 411 Marquette Street
Marquette Street! Madison knew that address. It was near her house on Blueberry Street. She looked closely at the piece of paper. There was an image there, too, that she couldn’t make out. It looked like a photograph. Was it a picture of a tree? Or was it a picture of the top of someone’s head?
Madison wandered back to her bag and laptop, still open in the carrel where she’d been sitting.
“All alone?” someone said.
Madison turned and saw Ivy standing there.
“Where’s Hart?” Ivy asked.
“Huh?” Madison replied.
“Sure,” Ivy snarled. “Play dumb. Look, I don’t know what is going on with you and Hart Jones, but I think you had better just back off. Okay?”
Madison blinked. “What are you talking about?” she said.
“You know,” Ivy said, pursing her lips as if she were about to spit. “You know.”
“I don’t know,” Madison said. “Ivy, I don’t know what you’re—”
Ivy held up her hand to stop Madison from finishing her sentence. “Don’t even bother,” she said.