Action!

by Carolyn Keene

  What did surprise me was that Chief McGinnis from the River Heights Police Department was lowered down right after Luther.

  “It’s the Rackhams, all right,” Luther said as he stripped off his harness. He slowly circled the skeletons, gazing at them in wonder. He turned to study the empty chest. “No money left at all,” he murmured. “This changes everything!”

  “It sure does,” Chief McGinnis agreed from a few feet above us. He swung awkwardly down to the ground. I bit back a smile. Our police chief isn’t the most agile man in town; I was astonished that he’d come down here at all. “It means that after the Rackham boys stole this money, someone else stole it from them!”

  “No,” Luther told him. “It means the person who hired them to steal it from Mahoney stole it back.” He pointed up to the opening of the cavern, where Harold had recently disappeared. “He did it!”

  “Who, Harold?” I asked.

  “Harold?” Chief McGinnis repeated, baffled.

  Then I realized what Luther meant. “He isn’t talking about Harold,” I explained to the chief. “He’s talking about the character Harold plays in the movie—Ethan Mahoney.”

  “Right. Ethan Mahoney,” Luther agreed. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He knelt down and ran his fingers lightly over the empty chest that was supposed to have held the stolen money.

  “So you’re saying the reason the money isn’t down here with the boys is because Ethan took it back?” I asked. “I don’t get it. Why would Ethan hire anybody to steal his own money?”

  Chief McGinnis frowned. It looked as if he didn’t get it either.

  “It wasn’t his own money,” Luther reminded me.

  “Oh, that’s right!” I cried. I felt as if my brain had been flooded with the bright lights we used for filming. “The money really belonged to the railroad, didn’t it?” I turned to Chief McGinnis. “Ethan Mahoney got paid in advance for a big anvil order,” I explained. “But after the robbery, he supposedly didn’t have enough money to make the anvils, or to repay the railroad the money they had already paid him.”

  “Ah,” Chief McGinnis said. “So Ethan got to keep the money without ever delivering the goods. And no one could blame him, because he claimed to have been robbed by the Rackham Gang. Clever.”

  “I’m sure Ethan promised a share of the money to these poor fellows.” Luther shook his head as he looked down at the skeletons of John and Ross Rackham. “But he double-crossed them.”

  “Killed them, you mean,” Chief McGinnis said.

  “Dead men tell no tales—isn’t that the saying?” I asked. “This way, Ethan was sure that no one would ever find out the truth.” Something itched at the back of my brain. “But what about the mountain lion attack? And Esther?”

  “I always had a hard time believing that Ethan was attacked by a mountain lion,” Luther said slowly. “It was the one part of the story that never made sense. A mountain lion would be a very long way from home around River Heights. Even back in Ethan’s time.”

  “True,” Chief McGinnis agreed. “We don’t have cougars in this neck of the woods.”

  “But something happened to Ethan,” I argued. “He had injuries that people saw, didn’t he? The mountain lion story had to come from somewhere.”

  “Well, we know Ethan and Esther got married,” Luther said. “We know that the town believed Ethan was attacked by a mountain lion, and that Esther saved him. That much is documented in the story that ran in the paper, and in diaries of other people who lived in River Heights at the time.”

  “All right. So let’s assume that Esther was here with Ethan,” I said. I felt as if an electric current was running through my veins. Nothing is more thrilling than trying to figure out a mystery. “Let’s assume that much is true.”

  “Okay, I’m Ethan,” Luther said. “I just killed your brothers so I can have all the money for myself. You show up in the cave. How would you act?”

  I backed away. Then I moved toward Luther, pretending I had just arrived in the cavern to find my brothers lying on the ground with Luther/Ethan standing over them. I tried to get into Esther’s skin, just the way I had when I was acting.

  “You killed my brothers!” Rage and pain filled me. I raced at Luther. “I hate you!” I pounded lightly on Luther’s chest. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I definitely thought Esther would be hitting Ethan right about now.

  “Hold it right there,” Chief McGinnis interrupted. “Maybe you’re on to something. Far-fetched as it is, do you think Esther could be the mountain lion?” he asked Luther.

  “You mean that Esther is the one who attacked Ethan?” Luther asked.

  I curled my hands into claws. “I could probably get some pretty good scratches in.” I glanced around the cavern and picked up a rock with a sharp edge. “Or what if I—I mean, Esther—used something like this?”

  “The edge of that rock could easily slash through a man’s skin,” the chief said. “In fact, a woman with a weapon like that could probably kill a man.”

  “That’s it!” Luther burst out. “Esther came at Ethan. Surprised him. She almost killed him with a rock, or some other kind of weapon.”

  “Maybe she used the ivory-handled gun she took from the body of one of her brothers,” I suggested.

  “But then how did Ethan stop her?” the police chief asked.

  “A deal,” Luther suggested. “We know Esther and Ethan ended up married. What if Ethan offered to marry her and split the money?”

  “And that’s why they never let anyone in their house,” I said, thinking out loud. “Maybe their house was filled with all kinds of expensive things. And Esther got to enjoy them all her life.”

  “And that’s how Ethan’s ancestors ended up with so much money. Because Ethan never lost his money. He and Esther kept it,” Luther added.

  We grinned at each other. “I think we just solved a mystery here,” I said. “Except I still want to know why Esther was in here in the first place. That part of the story has always bothered me, even when I thought the part about Ethan being attacked by a mountain lion was true. Why was Esther here?”

  I looked over at the skeletons of the Rackham brothers. “I wish you two could talk. You could tell us everything.”

  “Chief, is there any problem with me taking the gun and the spurs off the skeletons?” Luther asked, kneeling down by the bones. “They really should be in a museum.”

  “I’d like to leave everything here for now,” the chief answered. “It is a crime scene, after all—even if it is an old one.”

  Luther started to stand. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “What?” Luther replied.

  “That white thing just under the handle of the gun,” I answered. My fingers were itching to leap over there and grab it, but I waited for Luther to pick it up.

  “A few pieces of paper,” he told me as he pulled out some aged papers that had been sticking out of a leather pouch. Luther carefully unfolded them. The paper was so old that it was torn in some places along the folds. Luther’s eyes widened. “It’s part of Esther’s diary—the lost pages!”

  “Does she say why she was here? Does she explain?” I eagerly demanded.

  “It seems our Esther was even less innocent than we thought,” Luther said, his eyes quickly scanning the pages. “She married Ethan knowing he killed her brothers, and this says she knew all along that her brothers were planning the heist. And she knew they planned to hide out here after the heist!”

  “I knew there had to be a reason she was in here,” I said. “I knew it couldn’t just be a coincidence.”

  “Esther was going to bring her brothers food and water until the cops stopped looking for the robbers. Then the three of them were going to leave town with the money,” Luther continued.

  “And when Ethan ruined that plan, Esther teamed up with him.” I shook my head. “She was coldblooded, wasn’t she?”

  Chief McGinnis nodded. “Sounds like she and Ethan deserved each other.”
>
  “Yoo-hoo!” Bess shouted into the cavern. “Are you ever coming back up?”

  “You two go,” the chief said. “I’ll stay here and secure the crime scene.”

  Luther and I strapped on the harnesses and slowly made our way up the side of the cavern wall. Bess wrapped me in a tight hug when I finally reached the top.

  “Eww. You’ve got gunk all over you,” she said when she let me go. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and started wiping the pieces of spiderweb off my face.

  “Thanks. I forgot all about that. You’re not going to believe what we found down there,” I began.

  But before I could say another word, George burst into the cave. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining.

  “You’re not going to believe what I found out!” she cried. “He was stealing from his own company!”

  No More Movie

  I know,” I told George. “He was stealing from his own company and keeping the money for himself.”

  “Right!” George answered. “He laundered the money by buying antique furniture. Then he’d sell the furniture privately for a great price and buy cheap copies.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Ethan Mahoney was buying antique furniture? What?”

  “Who’s talking about Ethan?” George asked. “Jeffrey Allman was buying the antiques!”

  George and I stared at each other for a moment, confused. “You’d better start over,” Bess suggested.

  I forced my mind back to Jeffrey Allman and his antique furniture. Suddenly all the pieces fell into place. “You mean you found something on his laptop?” I asked. “Was it that spreadsheet file you told me about—or tried to tell me about?”

  “Laptop? What laptop?” Chief McGinnis looked at me sharply. I couldn’t let him think I let George take anything from the crime scene—he’d never understand. And he never seemed to get over feeling threatened by me. I signaled George to keep talking, hoping to avoid the topic.

  “Yup, the spreadsheet.” George smiled. “I found two different accounting files on the hard drive. That’s how I found out about the furniture scam.”

  “Back up. What scam?” I asked.

  “Remember that armoire from O’Reilly Brothers that you told us about?” George asked. “The only piece of furniture that was saved from the fire?”

  “Of course,” I answered. “I thought it was so strange that he had a cheap piece of furniture mixed in with his antiques.”

  “It turns out his whole house was filled with cheap stuff,” George told me. “He’d already sold all the expensive antiques he bought.”

  I clapped my hand to my mouth. “Insurance fraud,” I said. “He was going to claim that all the antiques were lost in the fire and collect a ton of money!”

  “And he already had a ton of money from selling the antiques,” Bess chimed in.

  “Right—the antiques he bought with money he stole from Rackham Industries,” George confirmed. “I even have a lead to the account numbers for the foreign banks where I believe Jeffrey kept the money until he laundered it.”

  Chief McGinnis seemed to mull over the information for a moment. “Hmm. Interesting. Sounds like I have a search warrant to get,” Chief McGinnis said as he climbed out of the cavern in his harness.

  “I’ll get you Jeffrey Allman’s hard drive,” George told him. “It has all the info you’ll need.”

  “I guess nothing changes,” I said to Bess as George and the chief headed out of the cave. “Ethan Mahoney was pulling the same kind of scam all those years ago. Stealing from his own company.”

  “Attention, everybody!” Morris called.

  “Yikes,” I said. “I hope he doesn’t want to get started on my scene right away. I definitely need some makeup help.” I untied the knots I’d put in my skirt to keep it out of my way, and Bess and I walked over to join the group surrounding our director.

  “We need to get this equipment packed up and the costumes back to the shop,” Morris announced. “Then all of you have a week off. At least.”

  “At least?” I asked.

  “Well, we’re not going to be able to film in this cave for a while.” Morris swung his arm toward the gaping cavern that now filled the back of the cave. “And it turns out that we have the heist story completely wrong. At least the end of it. That means more rewriting and reshooting.”

  Morris let out a sigh as he looked out at the cast and crew. “It also means more money. A lot more money,” he admitted. “As you know, there have already been a lot of production problems on this shoot. I’m honestly not sure if we’re going to have enough in the budget to continue.”

  “Oh, no,” Bess whispered.

  I felt my heart sink down to someplace near my stomach. “This is awful,” I said to Bess. “Everyone has worked so hard.”

  And I’d been having fun. I was shocked to realize it, but I had. Sure, I was nervous every time I got in front of the camera. But I was finally starting to get the hang of the acting thing, and I wanted to keep working on it.

  Now it looked like my acting career would be over before I’d even finished the movie!

  After Morris’s announcement we all took the bus back to the compound. One by one, cast and crew members headed off to their cars for the lonely drive home.

  “Let’s go get lunch before we head home,” George suggested. “I want to hear all the details about Nancy’s archeological dig.”

  We all piled into my car and went to a local diner for sandwiches. By the time we started back to the soundstage to pick up my friends’ cars, I had realized that there was one more loose end to the mystery of the Rackham Gang and Ethan Mahoney that needed to be tied up.

  “I have to make a detour, okay?” I asked Bess and George on our way to the production compound.

  “An ice cream kind of detour?” Bess asked hopefully.

  “I wish,” I answered. “I want to stop by Mrs. Mahoney’s. We have to tell her what we found out about her family. And I think we should do it in person.”

  “Good idea,” George said. “Not fun, but a good idea.”

  Not fun was right. I was still trying to figure out what words I should use to tell Mrs. Mahoney that her husband’s ancestor was a thief and a murderer when we pulled into the long circular driveway in front of her gigantic house.

  “Everybody out,” I called. I needed moral support if I was going to do this. Mrs. Mahoney is one of my favorite people in River Heights, and I hated the fact that I was going to upset her.

  We all climbed out of the car. I led the way up to Mrs. Mahoney’s door and rang the bell. The elderly lady gave a bright smile when she saw us standing there. I wondered how long the smile would last when she found out the reason for our visit.

  “Oh, hello! What a nice surprise, Nancy, Bess, George. Please come in, come in,” Mrs. Mahoney told us. “I don’t bake—I’m not that kind of old lady.” She patted her short gray hair. “But I did just buy some wonderful ginger snaps at the store. Perfect for dunking. Would you like some, girls?”

  My stomach turned over at the thought of food. I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat anything until I told Mrs. Mahoney the bad news. But Bess was already nodding.

  At least the cookies and tea gave me a little more time to think of how I wanted to break the news. Unfortunately, a little more time wasn’t enough. I still didn’t know what I wanted to say when we were all seated in Mrs. Mahoney’s grand dining room with the goodies laid out in front of us. I took a sip of my tea, buying even more time.

  “So what can I do for you girls?” Mrs. Mahoney finally asked. “Nancy? Are you raising funds for one of your charities, dear?”

  “Um … no,” I said. I do work with a few different charities in River Heights, and I can always count on Mrs. Mahoney to help out, whether I’m collecting for the animal shelter or the children’s art museum. She’s willing to donate to any worthy cause.

  “Nancy found out something about Ethan Mahoney,” George blurted out.

  “Ethan?” M
rs. Mahoney repeated. “You mean Ethan Mahoney, my husband’s ancestor?”

  “That’s the one.” I sucked in a deep breath, then started to talk. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Mrs. Mahoney, but Ethan wasn’t quite the person you probably think he was. I know he’s a beloved member of your family, but … well, it, um …” I had to just spit it out. “It turns out that he hired the Rackham Gang to steal the money from his safe. Then he killed them and took the money back. Esther Rackham knew about the whole thing. In fact, it’s likely that she only married him because she wanted a share of the cash.”

  There was a brief silence. Mrs. Mahoney frowned at me, trying to understand everything I’d just said so quickly. I leaned forward, ready to comfort her. But then the woman started to laugh.

  I shot a look at Bess and George. They seemed as confused as I was.

  “That’s priceless,” Mrs. Mahoney said when she finally stopped laughing. “My late husband was so proud of his family fortune, and he only had it because he was related to a true villain!”

  Bess reached out and patted Mrs. Mahoney’s hand. “No one will blame you for what Ethan and Esther did.”

  “They’d better not,” Mrs. Mahoney declared. “I’m only a Mahoney by marriage.”

  “And you don’t mind if the whole story comes out in the movie—if there ends up being a movie?” George asked.

  “Not at all,” Mrs. Mahoney answered. “It’ll make a much better picture, if you ask me.”

  “You’re right!” Bess cried. “And, Nancy, now you’ll have a really meaty part. An honest-to-goodness femme fatale.”

  “True,” I answered, smiling. I liked the idea of playing someone wicked. “If we make the movie now.”

  “But I told you I don’t mind a bit,” Mrs. Mahoney said. “Don’t stop just to respect my family—tell the truth.”

  “I know,” I told her, smiling. “But rewriting the script and shooting new scenes might put us too far over budget.”

  “Really? Well, I can fix that.” Mrs. Mahoney reached into her purse and pulled out a checkbook. Then she started to laugh again. “Imagine, my husband’s money paying for a movie that spills the beans about how bad his ancestors really were. I love it!”