The Candy Cane Caper

by Cynthia Blair

  “And then, out of the blue, we get some inside information on what may be the cause of all this....”

  “Wait a minute,” Susan interrupted. “Inside information? I wouldn’t go quite that far!”

  “Well, maybe not. But, gee, Sooz, where’s your sense of adventure?” Chris was suddenly excited. “Don’t you see that this calls for some investigating, by a team of experts?”

  Susan blinked as she looked up from the ribbon she was tying onto the package she had just wrapped. “What requires investigation, Chris?”

  “Why, the possibility that Mr. Stone is the cause of the hospital losing money! I mean, you could look at it as only a rumor ... or you could look at it as a lead.”

  Despite her twin’s enthusiasm, however, Susan remained doubtful.

  “But, Chris! We hardly have anything at all to go on! And besides, how could you and I possibly investigate something that’s going on at the children’s hospital? We don’t even belong there, for goodness’ sake! We don’t work there, we don’t do volunteer work there....”

  “No,” said Chris, her brown eyes shining. “But we are giving a party there. On Christmas Eve. In just three days, seventy-two hours ...”

  Susan could tell that her sister was already plotting away.

  “Let’s see,” Chris was muttering. “That gives us plenty of time to dig up some more information. Talk to some people—Brian, of course, maybe his boss, Carol.... Check out this Mr. Stone a little bit more carefully.... See if some of the pieces fit together....”

  “Chris! All this is an incredible long shot, isn’t it?” Susan protested.

  “Well, maybe, but …” Chris sighed impatiently. “Look, if it turns out that Mr. Stone isn’t embezzling hospital funds, if all this really is just a rumor, then nothing’s been lost, right? Just a little harmless detective work, that’s all.

  “But just think, Sooz! If it turns out that Mr. Stone has been having some shady dealings, and that he is responsible for this terrible thing that’s about to happen, you and I could actually save the Ridgewood Children’s Hospital! We might keep it from having to close down! Wouldn’t that be fantastic?”

  “Yes, of course it would,” Susan admitted. She still sounded a bit reluctant. Even so, Chris could tell that her twin was already starting to come around to her way of thinking.

  “As a matter of fact,” Chris went on, suddenly sounding a bit mischievous, “I just thought of a code name for our undercover investigation of Mr. Stone and the workings of the Ridgewood Children’s Hospital. Something that’s right in line with Christmas ...”

  Susan couldn’t resist. “All right. What’s the code name you thought up?” she asked with a grin.

  “The Candy Cane Caper! It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

  “It is kind of catchy,” Susan had to agree. She thought for a minute, then said, “Well, Chris, you can certainly be persuasive. It’s true that, at this point, we don’t have very much to go on. Nothing more than a rumor, really. But if there’s even the slightest chance that you and I could find out what’s going on and keep the children’s hospital from having to close.... Well, how could I possibly say no to that?”

  “Oh, Sooz, I knew you’d agree!” She gave her sister a big hug. “Tell me, what was it that convinced you that this was a case for the Pratt twins’ unparalleled sleuthing abilities? My clear-cut arguments? My unwillingness to back down? My limitless spirit?”

  Susan laughed. “To tell you the truth, Chris, I think it was the code name you came up with. I mean, how could anyone possibly resist being part of something called the Candy Cane Caper?”

  Chapter Nine

  Despite the girls’ intention of getting the Candy Cane Caper under way immediately, it wasn’t until the following day that they were able to do any actual sleuthing on the case. That evening after dinner Emily asked the girls to help her sort out all the things for the bazaar that she’d picked up that day.

  Going through each of the handmade items one at a time was a real treat for the twins. And between exclaiming over each one, talking about what techniques must have gone into making it, and then coming up with a price, it took up almost the whole evening. The rest of it was filled with examining all the secondhand items that Emily had acquired from her friends, teapots and pocketbooks and picture frames, and deciding the best way to display them and how much to charge.

  By the end of the evening, the twins were exhausted—but certain that the bazaar was going to be a real success.

  “One thing’s for sure,” Susan said with a sigh as she headed up the stairs to her bedroom, her sister in tow, just before midnight. “If we manage to sell half those items at the bazaar on Thursday, we’ll be in good shape.”

  Even though it was the bazaar she was talking about, she was really thinking about the children’s Christmas party. She had come up with a brainstorm that evening, an idea that would make the evening more special—and decided to keep it a total secret, even from her twin.

  “Just think of the great Christmas Eve celebration we’re going to be able to have for the kids!” Chris agreed, her enthusiasm tempered by her fatigue after a long busy day.

  She, too, was thinking about something she’d come up with that evening without her sister knowing. She had also decided to carry out her plan totally on her own.

  For the moment, both girls, tired from the long evening of making plans and getting things ready, were absorbed in thinking about the bazaar and the party. By the next morning, however, the Candy Cane Caper was very much on their minds once again.

  The very first thing, over a breakfast of golden-brown waffles with Vermont maple syrup, Susan said to her twin, “So, Chris, are you free for lunch today?”

  “Lunch!” Chris cried. “I haven’t even finished breakfast yet! And at the rate I’ve been gobbling up these waffles, I doubt that I’ll even have room for lunch!”

  “Trust me, you will,” Susan returned with a chuckle. “Anyway, I was thinking ... Why don’t you and I invite Brian out to lunch today so we can talk about ... well, you know. What we talked about last night.”

  “Sure. I think starting out by talking to an insider is a great idea. But why don’t we just meet him over at the hospital cafeteria, the way you did yesterday?”

  “Christine Pratt! What kind of sleuth are you? We don’t want anyone to overhear us talking, naturally! Besides, maybe we should keep out of Mr. Stone’s way just so he doesn’t see us hanging around the hospital too much.”

  “Or hanging around with Brian too much either,” Chris added. “After all, tackling this case is something that you and I decided to do. We don’t want Brian to be implicated, not in any way. After all, if word ever got back to Mr. Stone, he could lose his job.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Chris.”

  Chris leaned back in her chair, placed her hands on her full stomach, and grinned. “So, Sooz, where shall the three of us have lunch?”

  Susan smiled impishly. “Actually, I’d like to take him out to Ridgewood’s finest eating establishment, whatever that happens to be.”

  “Ridgewood’s finest eating establishment?” echoed John Pratt, coming into the room. “Hmmm, now let me see....”

  “Grandpa!” Chris squealed. “Were you listening in on our conversation again?”

  “Eavesdropping, you mean. As a matter of fact, I guess I was.” He winked at Susan, then said, “After all, Chris, I’m learning that you’re always up to something interesting. Frankly, it would take a lot of willpower to stop listening in on the details of your action-packed life!”

  Chris laughed. “My life? Action-packed? Hardly!”

  “Grandpa,” Susan said, “what is the best restaurant here in Ridgewood?”

  John thought for a few seconds. “Well, there is one exceptional restaurant in town. Alfredo’s has the best Italian food I’ve ever had in my life—and that includes that trip to Rome that your grandmother and I took a few years back!”

  “Then Alfredo’s i
t is!” Susan exclaimed. “I’ll go invite Brian right away. He should be at work by now.” She headed for the doorway, then paused. “By the way, Grandpa, does Alfredo’s have candles on the table?”

  “Why, I believe so.”

  “And linen tablecloths?”

  “Of course!”

  “And a bouquet of flowers on every table?”

  John Pratt’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Sounds to me as if you’re planning a romantic little lunch.”

  “Not exactly,” Susan returned merrily. “Although I must admit that I wouldn’t mind too much if there was just a touch of romance in the air!”

  * * * *

  Chris and Susan arrived at Alfredo’s right on time, so they were surprised to find that Brian was already there, gorging himself on garlic bread as he waited for them. The restaurant was everything the girls’ grandfather had promised. It was quiet and elegant and even romantic, with all the trimmings that Susan had been hoping for. There were even festive strings of tiny white lights intertwined with pine garlands along the windows.

  Most important, it offered them the privacy they would need for their discussion of the hospital’s current problems. And what—or who—might be responsible for them.

  “This is quite a change from yesterday’s lunch, Susan, isn’t it?” Brian asked with a grin as the girls sat down. “Believe it or not, I’ve never been here before. But if their garlic bread is any indication of the quality of the rest of their food, I just might start eating here every day!”

  But even as the twins were laughing, he grew serious.

  “Although if the hospital really does close down soon, that means I’ll be out of a job, along with a lot of other people. If that happens, I won’t be able to afford lunch at any restaurant. Not with the high cost of going to college ...”

  “Brian, that’s precisely what we wanted to talk to you about today,” Susan interjected.

  “And here I thought you girls invited me out to lunch solely because of my charming personality!”

  Susan blushed, then said, “Well, that might have had a little to do with it.... But Chris and I did want to find out more about that rumor you mentioned yesterday. You know, the one about the possibility of Mr. Stone ... well, having something to do with the hospital’s financial troubles.”

  Puzzled, Brian looked at Susan, then at Chris. “But that has nothing to do with either of you! Why on earth would you want to go out of your way to concern yourselves with something like this ... especially during your vacation?”

  Chris grinned at his reaction of surprise. “Let’s just say that we Pratt twins have a long history of taking on any project that looks as if it might be the least bit adventurous.”

  “And we’ve got a lot of experience in the sleuthing business,” Susan went on. “We once spent the night in a haunted house to find out if it really was haunted. Then there was last summer, when we had jobs as camp counselors and we helped keep the camp from having to close down by investigating some mysterious goings-on there. Why, you might say that sticking our noses into other people’s business has become sort of a hobby!”

  More seriously, she added, “But only if those people need help—and Chris and I agree that we might be able to give it to them.”

  “Well, the Ridgewood Children’s Hospital sure could use some help,” Brian said ruefully. “And if you two are willing to give us some, I, for one, would be pretty grateful.”

  “Good,” said Chris. “Then it’s settled. Sooz and I are now declaring that the Candy Cane Caper has officially begun.”

  “The what?”

  The twins burst out laughing, then went on to explain their habit of nicknaming each one of their adventures. They managed to convince Brian that it made the whole thing that much more fun.

  “So where do we begin?” he asked a few minutes later, after they had told the waiter which of the many delicious-sounding pasta dishes listed on the menu each of them wanted to order.

  “Tell us more about this rumor,” Chris said excitedly.

  “Gee, there’s not much to tell,” said Brian with a shrug. “Just what I told Susan already. And that was something that my boss, Carol, told me. I don’t know who told her.”

  Chris frowned pensively. “Okay. Let me ask you something then. Does Mr. Stone spend a lot of money—more than he probably makes from his job of hospital director, I mean?”

  “Gee, that’s tough.... He’s got a nice house, and a new car ... but aside from that, I really don’t know.”

  Chris frowned, hating to admit that she didn’t really know where to go from there. As the waiter placed their lunches on the table, in fact, he glanced over at her with concern.

  “Darn!” she complained once the waiter had left. “We’re not getting anywhere! How am I supposed to find out if this Mr. Stone is a shifty character or not? I don’t even know what he looks like!”

  “You’re about to find out,” Susan said calmly, glancing toward the front door of the restaurant. “He just came in.”

  Chris’s jaw dropped open. “Mr. Stone? Really? Oooh, I can’t even see the door from here. Where is he? Can you point him out to me once he sits down?”

  “We won’t have to,” said Brian. “He’s just spotted us, and he’s on his way over to our table at this very minute!”

  Chris’s heart was pounding. As far as she knew, she could be about to meet a real criminal—someone who was stealing money from the Ridgewood Children’s Hospital!

  Or, she reminded herself, you might be about to meet a perfectly nice man who has been unjustly accused of something or at least been the butt of some pretty ugly rumors.

  “Well, hello again!” Mr. Stone said in a jovial manner as he reached their table. “Hello, Brian. And hello—wait a minute.” He looked from Susan to Chris and back at Susan again. “I remember meeting one of you yesterday, but for the life of me, I can’t tell which one it was!”

  “It was me.” Susan laughed. “My sister Chris and I are identical twins.”

  “I can see that! So there are two of you, are there?”

  Brian introduced Chris to Mr. Stone, and then the four of them chatted for a few minutes about the bazaar, now only a day away, and the Christmas Eve party the following night. Mr. Stone made it clear that he was thrilled about the girls pitching in and rallying the whole town of Ridgewood, planning the bazaar, and putting together a holiday celebration for the children. Chris cast a glance in her twin’s direction that said that she, too, found it difficult to believe that this friendly man could be capable of doing anything dishonest.

  But then he said something that totally changed their minds.

  “Well, I’ll let you three get on with your lunch,” he said cheerfully. “Great food here. By the way, let me know how you like it. We’re planning to open Alfredo’s restaurants all over New England some time next year.”

  Susan nearly choked on the forkful of lasagna she’d just put into her mouth. “We?” she sputtered, trying to sound casual.

  “Well, Alfredo himself is the driving force behind the venture. I’m just one of the investors. One of the major investors, as a matter of fact,” he added with a big grin.

  “A major investor?” Susan repeated.

  “Well . . . you know, something like that doesn’t really cost as much as most people might think,” he said quickly. He seemed annoyed by her question.

  By now Susan was too dumbfounded to speak. Fortunately, her twin was not.

  “How many restaurants are you planning to open?” Chris asked sweetly.

  Mr. Stone eyed her warily. “Eight of them. You girls sure ask a lot of questions!”

  “Well, we’ll be sure to let you know how we like the food here,” Chris said, wearing a big innocent smile and ignoring his last comment. “I’m sure it’ll be just great!”

  As soon as Mr. Stone was out of earshot, she turned to her two luncheon companions, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed pink with excitements

  “Did you hea
r that?” she squealed. “Did you hear what he just said? Mr. Stone is a major investor in a brand-new chain of restaurants. Eight of them!”

  “Calm down, Chris,” said Susan. “You may be jumping to conclusions.”

  “Sooz, eight restaurants! We’re talking about a lot of money here! Especially if they’re all going to be this fancy. All that cash has to come from somewhere!”

  “Chris is right,” said Brian. “It does sound as if Mr. Stone has suddenly got a lot of money to play around with.”

  He put down his fork. “All of a sudden I’m not very hungry.”

  “Don’t worry,” Chris said reassuringly. “Now that we’ve got a bit more to go on than just a rumor, I’m more committed than ever to getting to the bottom of the hospital’s financial problems. Or at least to finding out if Mr. Stone is the cause of them!”

  Enthusiastically she dug into the huge plate of spaghetti in front of her. “Eat up, fellow crime fighters. We’ve got a big job ahead of us. And we’re going to need all the energy we can muster up to kick the Candy Cane Caper into high gear!”

  Chapter Ten

  While both Chris and Susan were anxious for the Candy Cane Caper to get under way, they had, at least for the moment, more pressing things to worry about. Planning a bazaar was a big job, and they needed the rest of Wednesday, all afternoon and all evening, to get things ready. It seemed as if there were a million different things to do, yet with each passing moment, with every additional thing they did to get ready, the twins grew more and more excited.

  And the fact that their grandparents were both getting so involved made them even happier. Emily Pratt barely had a chance to sit down and have a cup of tea, what with all the running around she was doing, collecting and organizing and telephoning and finishing up some of her own half-completed crafts projects. John Pratt was also caught up in a whirlwind of activity, packing and unpacking all the things that, little by little, were being transported to the community room over at the church.