Midnight at the Mansion (The Virginia Mysteries Book 5)

by Steven K. Smith

He grinned and tried to relax. “She surprised me. I didn't want to get in trouble.”

  “He's a little skittish,” said Derek.

  “You both followed me,” said Sam.

  Derek looked out back at the mansion, his hands on his hips. “You know what this means, don't you?”

  Sam tried to ignore the devilish grin on his brother's face. “That the Dooleys were really rich to have two mansions?”

  Derek shook his head. “It means that we have to go to Afton Mountain and see Swannanoa.”

  Sam stood up straight. “No way.”

  “He's right, you know,” agreed Caitlin. “If that message is true, then something bad is going to happen to the eagles on the tenth. We can't just sit around and let it happen.”

  “But the eagles are here, not at Swannanoa,” said Sam. “It could just as easily mean Maymont.”

  “True,” said Caitlin. “Let's think about it. And I'll do some research about Swannanoa.”

  “Yeah, but it sounds cool to go see a palace on a mountain, doesn't it?” said Derek. “Can't you try to be adventurous for a change, Sam?”

  Sam frowned. “Living with you is plenty of adventure, trust me.”

  Caitlin laughed.

  Derek patted Sam on the back and smiled. “Well then, just consider this part of the adventure, little bro.”

  When they arrived back home, after their mom dropped off Caitlin, Derek ran inside to show their dad a picture of him riding the zip line. They'd all decided not to tell their parents about what had happened until they could do more research. While Sam was still on the front porch, an enormous noise sounded from the yard next door.

  “What is that?” he screamed to his mom, while he covered his ears from the noise. He looked over at his neighbor, Mr. Haskins' house. There was no telling what the kooky old man might be doing.

  Mom shook her head and said something that Sam couldn't hear, so he stepped over to the fence between their yards and stared through the tree branches. Mr. Haskins was in his backyard, pushing some kind of machine. Sam cautiously climbed over the fence and walked up to the old man.

  Mr. Haskins had big earmuffs on his head while pushing a giant, motorized blower machine across the grass. As he turned the machine for another pass, Mr. Haskins glanced up, stopping suddenly with a jump when he saw Sam. He patted his chest with his hand in surprise and bent over. For a second, Sam feared he'd scared the old man to death, but he was just turning the machine off.

  “What are you trying to do?” Mr. Haskins stood up and yelled, much louder than usual. “Give me a heart attack?”

  Sam tried to look friendly. “Sorry, Mr. Haskins.”

  “What's that you say?” the old man hollered, leaning forward with his eyebrows scrunched together.

  Sam realized the earmuffs on Mr. Haskins' head were noise protection headphones. He pointed at his own head to signal him.

  “Huh? What's wrong with your head, boy?”

  Sam stepped forward and lifted the headphones off his neighbor's head.

  “Oh...well, why didn’t you tell me, boy?” He looked disgusted. “It's not nice to play tricks on an old man, you know.”

  Sam was about to argue his innocence, but he decided better of it. “What are you doing?” he asked instead. “Trying to blow the grass off your yard?”

  Mr. Haskins waved his hand at the air like he was swatting a bug. “Aw, come on. I just got this grass to start growing back here, why would I blow it away?”

  “Then what?” Sam looked around, wondering if he'd missed something obvious.

  Mr. Haskins frowned. “It's for the leaves, Einstein. I'd have at least expected you to know that one, boy.”

  “But the leaves are still on the trees.” Sam pointed above their heads at the branches, still flush with green. It would be at least a month before they started showing any hints of orange and yellow.

  Mr. Haskins stared up like he'd never realized there were trees in his yard. “Oh, well of course they're still on the trees. But I'm getting ready for them.” He patted the blowing machine. “This puppy blows over one hundred miles an hour. Those leaves'll never know what hit 'em.”

  “Oh,” was all Sam could think to say. Mr. Haskins cared a little too much about his yard, although maybe old people didn't have much else to worry about, so it might be understandable.

  “Sam, come on, the game's starting!” Derek called from their house.

  Sam remembered that a big baseball game was coming on TV that afternoon. He'd been looking forward to it all week. “Coming!” he hollered, then turned back to Mr. Haskins. “I gotta go.”

  He took a few steps toward his house but tripped over a large gully on the edge of the grass. “Whoops. Sorry.” He looked back to make sure Mr. Haskins wasn't mad. He always yelled at them for stepping in his flowerbeds, maybe this was something else to avoid.

  “Good thing there aren't any fish in there or you'd have a wet foot.”

  “Fish?” Sam looked down at the hole. It didn't look like any fish would live in a gully in the grass.

  “Sure, that used to be my koi pond, but not for probably...” the old man scratched his head, “oh, at least fifteen years by now. Too much work, I decided.” He bent down and picked a weed. “Of course, now I got all this doggone grass to deal with. Maybe I should just make it one big fish pond!”

  Sam's ears perked up. “You had a koi pond? We just saw one of those over at Maymont today, but a big one.”

  Mr. Haskins nodded. “Sure, I know it well. Back in the Japanese Gardens. Been there many times. Did you walk on the stepping stones?”

  “Yeah, they were cool.” Sam's mind jumped ahead to all they'd learned at the estate. “Hey, Mr. Haskins...do you know anything about a place called Swannanoa?”

  Mr. Haskins looked down over his glasses. “What do you think, boy? I've only lived in this area my whole life.”

  “Have you been there?”

  Mr. Haskins eased himself down into a wooden chair next to his deck. “I have. But it's been a while.”

  Sam sat next to him on the deck steps. “Is it really a palace?”

  Mr. Haskins nodded. “Pretty fancy place. Gardens, towers, marble stairs, and an enormous stained glass window of Sallie Dooley.”

  Sam remembered that was the name of the lady with the swan bed. “Did you know her?”

  “Who?”

  “Sallie Dooley.”

  “Hah! Now how old do you think I am, boy? The Dooleys were before even my time. That place sat empty for years after the Dooleys died. One time, the Navy was going to turn it into a secret base to interrogate war prisoners.”

  Sam's ears perked up. “Really?”

  “Yeah, but they never did,” continued Mr. Haskins. “Then, for a long time, it was some mumbo jumbo science and philosophy retreat.”

  “Wow,” said Sam. The science and philosophy thing sounded boring, but a secret Navy base was cool. “What is it now? Does someone live there?”

  “Nah, not anymore, I don't think. Last I heard, it was mostly abandoned and had fallen into disrepair. A real shame, too.”

  “Why didn't they make it a park like Maymont?” asked Sam. If it was so amazing, he figured that would be a good way to take care of it.

  “Dunno, boy. Sometimes things that make sense don't always happen. Takes a lot of scratch to keep up a place like that.”

  “Scratch?”

  Mr. Haskins frowned and leaned forward in his chair. With one hand, he reached out and rubbed his thumb against his fingers. “Cash, boy. Fixing up a mansion is expensive.”

  Sam thought of another question. “Do they have bald eagles there?”

  Mr. Haskins tilted his head back and stared at the sky. “Might be some in the trees up on Afton Mountain, if that's what you mean. It's pretty wooded, being part of the Blue Ridge, you know. There's plenty of black bear, lotta snakes too. Gotta be some eagles. They're making a comeback, I hear.”

  Sam's eyes opened wide at the sound of bears and snakes, bu
t he tried to focus on the message and the eagles. “Do they keep them on the grounds at Swannanoa, like they do at Maymont? The bald eagles, I mean.”

  Mr. Haskins shook his head. “Don't think so. Like I told you, it's mostly abandoned.”

  “Sam! You're missing the game!” Derek called again from the house, louder this time.

  Sam tried to force thoughts of eagles and Swannanoa out of his mind. He really wanted to see the ballgame. He stood up from the step.

  “Thanks, Mr. Haskins. Good luck with your leaves.”

  The old man grunted. “Don't need luck, I've got my secret weapon.” He pointed to his blower machine. “They haven't got a chance.”

  5

  After the ballgame and dinner, Derek challenged Sam to a Ping-Pong match. Dad had bought them a table for the basement at Christmas, and they had a lot of fun playing together before bedtime most nights. Dad was a champion player in his rec league in college, and he was teaching the boys how to play. Derek had caught on quickly and regularly beat Sam, but Sam was secretly counting down the days until he could beat his older brother and couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

  After his latest defeat, Sam headed upstairs to get ready for bed. He stopped when he heard the sound of his mother's voice in the next room.

  “I know. I can't believe it. We were just there.”

  He leaned his head around the doorframe, catching a glimpse of her talking on the phone.

  “You're kidding,” his mom continued. “Both of them? That's so sad. I love that place.”

  Sam listened on the other side of the doorway, trying to think of who she could be talking to. It could be Mr. Haskins, since Sam was just over there, but he didn't usually call on the phone. He just wandered over to chat or complain about whatever it was Sam and Derek had done wrong this time. Sam knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but this sounded interesting.

  “Hiding from someone?” said Derek, sneaking up behind him.

  “Shh!” Sam motioned for him to be quiet. Derek leaned in behind him to catch a glimpse. “Spying on Mom now, are you?” he whispered. “How exciting can that be?”

  Sam frowned and motioned for him to be quiet.

  “Well, thank you for calling,” said Mom. “Hopefully it will all work out in the end.” She was walking toward them.

  Sam pushed Derek back, scampering further into the hall, trying to look casual. Their mom came around the corner but stopped short when she saw them.

  “Hey, Mom,” said Derek. “Who was that?”

  “What?” She looked surprised. “Oh...no one. I need to talk to your father. Have you seen him?”

  “I think he's in his office,” said Sam, unsure of why Mom would be acting so strangely. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded but headed off looking preoccupied.

  “What's that all about?” said Derek.

  “Beats me,” replied Sam. “But she looks worried about something.”

  Derek's phone buzzed in his pocket. He read something, then looked at Sam. “Uh...you need to call Caitlin.”

  “Why?”

  “How should I know? I just got a message from Jack Corey saying that his sister told him you're supposed to call Caitlin.” Derek shook his head. “When are Mom and Dad going to let you have your own phone? I'm not your personal secretary, you know.”

  “Be quiet,” huffed Sam. Derek had finally convinced their parents to let him have a phone when he started middle school, and it quickly turned into one more thing for him to lord over Sam about being older.

  Sam took the phone from the kitchen and punched in Caitlin's number as he walked upstairs to his bedroom. Why didn't she just call him herself? This was strange.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it's Sam. Did you want me to call you?”

  “Yes! Thank goodness.” It sounded like Caitlin was breathing fast.

  “What's up? And why didn't you just call me yourself?”

  “My mom just talked to your mom on the phone.”

  So that's who she was talking to. Sam tried to think about what Mrs. Murphy could have told his mom to make her seem so nervous. “What did she want?”

  “It was about the eagles,” said Caitlin.

  Sam caught his breath. “Eagles? You mean the Maymont ones?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly what? What's wrong with them?” asked Sam.

  “They're gone.”

  Had he heard her right? “Gone? Like, taken to a different park?”

  “No,” answered Caitlin. “Like gone, gone. As in stolen. As in missing.”

  Oh my gosh. It was just like the man had warned them. Save the Eagles.

  “But there's more,” said Caitlin. “Remember the man we talked to that jumped over the fence by the Japanese Gardens?”

  Remember him? Sam touched his ribs. He was still a little sore from where the man had crashed into him at the koi pond. “Of course I do...”

  “Well, apparently he was an undercover marshal for the National Park Service!”

  “National Park Service?” repeated Sam. He'd never heard of marshals in the parks. He thought a marshal was someone who rode a horse in those old black and white movies. National parks had forest rangers or something, didn't they?

  “And that's not the worst of it.”

  “It's not?” said Sam. “How could it be worse?”

  Caitlin lowered her voice to a whisper. “You're not going to believe this.”

  “What?” said Sam, after she paused without saying anything. “What am I not going to believe?”

  “I think he's dead.”

  Sam's heart felt like it stopped beating. “Dead?”

  “I think so. Mom said he was missing, but I think she was trying not to scare me, since we were just at Maymont this afternoon and all. I didn't tell her we'd met him. That would have been too much for her, I think. She'd never let me out of the house. I bet it was those two guys who were chasing him that killed him. Did they look like killers to you?”

  Sam tried to process what Caitlin had just told him. She was talking fast and there was a lot of information. What did it mean if that guy was dead? Why would anyone kill him?

  “And I think they're calling in the FBI since he was a federal marshal,” added Caitlin.

  The FBI? This was crazy. How could a visit to Maymont turn into a robbery, murder, and calls to the FBI?

  Caitlin interrupted him before he could finish his thought. “I've got to go, my mom's calling me. I'll talk to you later.”

  “Okay...”

  “And Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful.”

  “Wait, what?” Sam asked, but she'd already hung up. What did she mean by that? He wondered if he might have been the last person the marshal talked to. Was he in danger now too?

  Sam turned around, still thinking about the phone call, just as something flew at him, pelting him in the forehead. “Ahh!” he yelled.

  “Nailed you!” shouted Derek, grinning mischievously on the other side of the room. A blue sponge ball rolled into the corner.

  “Will you cut it out!” cried Sam, reaching for the ball. “What’s the matter with you?” He whipped it back toward his brother, but it bounced off the doorway.

  “Nice try,” said Derek. “What did your girlfriend want?”

  “Shut up.” Sam felt his cheeks flush, despite trying not to let them. Derek always teased him about hanging out with Caitlin. They were just friends, but for some reason Sam let Derek's words bother him more than they should. Somehow his brother knew just what to say to get under his skin.

  Sam tried to focus. “She called to tell me that it was her mom that our mom was talking to. The eagles at Maymont disappeared.”

  “What?”

  Sam nodded. “But it's worse. The man that crashed into me might be dead.”

  Derek's smile faded. “Sam, even I don't joke about people dying. You always have to take things a little too far.”

  Sam frowned. “I
always take things too far...” Was he kidding? Derek was the one who always took things too far.

  Derek winked at him.

  Sam tried to remember what they were talking about. “Listen, I'm serious. Caitlin just told me. Do you think it was those men who were chasing him? Could they really have killed him?”

  Sam sat down at his desk, putting his head in his hands. He was sweating. “I think we should tell Mom and Dad. Maybe go to the police. Or the FBI.” He explained what Caitlin had said about the man being a marshal.

  Derek sat quietly for a moment on the bed. “You do have his phone. Maybe that could be evidence. Too bad it doesn't work anymore.”

  Sam had forgotten all about the phone. He opened the desk drawer he'd put the phone in when they got home. He looked at the screen. “Still dead.”

  “Let me see,” said Derek, taking the phone out of its thin plastic case. He wiped a few remaining drops of water off on his shirt and blew into the holes. It was still blank. “Well, I guess it isn't really evidence if it's broken.”

  “Boys, time for lights out,” their mom's voice called up the stairs.

  Derek yawned and walked over to the doorway. “Let's tell Mom and Dad tomorrow. There's nothing anyone can do about it tonight.”

  Sam was about to argue when he forced back a yawn too. Maybe Derek was right. It had been a long day, and he was too tired to think anymore. “Okay.” He set the phone down on the nightstand next to his bed. “But we’ll definitely tell them tomorrow.”

  “Definitely.”

  Sam had a hard time falling asleep. He kept picturing the marshal's face as they tumbled to the ground together. His scared face. He wondered if the man was really a federal marshal. If he was, why would he be scared? Weren't marshals like the police? Wouldn't he be tough and have a gun?

  Then Sam thought of the big men who had been chasing him. Maybe they had guns too. That could have been why he was running, or maybe the marshal had lost his. Sam shuddered again, thinking of how close he had been to all three of them. Even if the marshal was tough, he'd still likely be scared when being chased. Sam knew he certainly would be. Eventually he drifted off, but his dreams chased him all night.

  When he opened his eyes, the room was still dark and he was sweating again. He wondered if he was still dreaming. He was usually a super sound sleeper, but he didn't feel rested at all. He peered over at the alarm clock on his dresser. 1:05 AM. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was the middle of the night. Why had he woken up?