Just then Olivia noticed the bandages on Brynn’s hands. “Hey, what happened to you?”
“I cut myself.” Brynn sounded distracted. She was staring at Mary, looking anxious.
“Whoa!” Bobby T took in the number of bandages on Brynn’s fingers and hands. “What did you cut yourself on, a chain saw?” He shook his head and started pacing. “You know, I’m starting to have a really bad feeling about this place. Too much freaky crap is going on around here.”
“I know what you mean.” Brynn bit her lip. “It’s like this place is—I don’t know, cursed or something.”
“Yeah, go ahead and believe that if you want,” James scoffed. “You can believe it all the way home, while I stay here and grab the mil.” He seemed to have recovered from Mary’s smackdown already.
Bobby barely seemed to hear him. “This is getting ridiculous,” he said, still pacing. “I mean, it was one thing when it was dead birds and goofy messages, right? But first Sittenfeld gets his mouth all cut up, and now Mary gets attacked, and Brynn…” He waved a hand toward Brynn’s bandages, not even seeming to care anymore about the details of what had happened to her. “I’m thinking it’s just not worth it anymore.”
Mary nodded and bit her lip. “The next person to drop out gets thirty thousand dollars, right?” she asked, looking around at the rest of us.
Mikey gasped. “You’re not thinking of taking it, are you?”
“Maybe.” Mary shrugged and glanced over her shoulder at the darkness outside.
I hated the thought that whoever was doing this might actually succeed in scaring people away. “No way,” I told Mary. “You’ve got to stay. Otherwise whoever’s doing this wins, and you don’t want that, right?”
“I don’t know.…” Mary still looked nervous.
But I wasn’t about to give up. With a little help from Frank, Mikey, and Hal, I eventually talked her down. She agreed to stay—at least for now.
She seemed to relax and go back to normal after that. But I soon realized that, while she might not be showing it as much, Brynn was still pretty freaked out. She made both me and Frank walk her back upstairs.
“I just don’t feel safe by myself anymore,” she said, her voice shaking. “I don’t want to go anywhere alone. Not even the bathroom or the Deprivation Chamber.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “I’m half tempted to do what Mary was saying—take the money and get out of here tonight.”
“Aw, come on.” I was horrified by the thought that she might leave. But I did my best to hide it. “Aren’t you even curious to see what horrible new deprivation Frank lays on us tomorrow morning?” I joked weakly.
“Yeah.” Frank smiled hopefully at her. “Tell you what, Brynn. If you promise to stick around, I’ll do like you suggested and cut the rest of our TV.” He grinned. “I’ll just have to deal with Mikey somehow.”
I shot him a surprised look. Was he nuts? If he cut our remaining TV privileges, it wasn’t only Mikey who was going to be upset. That made-for-TV movie about the murder in the mansion was on tomorrow night. At least half the people in the house were looking forward to watching it.
But when Brynn’s face brightened, I held my tongue. “Really?” she asked Frank with a small smile. “You really think it was a good idea?”
“Sure,” he said, giving her a goofy grin.
I had to hold back a grimace myself. Somehow, I doubted he’d be feeling so great about it when the others heard his plan.
Sure enough, when Frank announced his decision, it was greeted by groans and scowls and muttered curses. The only ones who didn’t seem upset were Brynn, Gail, and Ripley. Oh, and Bobby T, of course, who just seemed relieved that his precious Internet connection was safe.
“More cereal, anyone?” Ripley asked cheerfully.
She’d been bizarrely chipper all morning. Maybe all that cooking was actually giving her a purpose in life. She even looked different. Her dark hair was usually as sleek and smooth as a mink coat. But today she was sporting a bunch of wild waves. She’d explained that it was a new hairdo in honor of her role as house chef.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Mikey moaned, pushing away his plate of cold-water oatmeal.
“Not just you.” Olivia shook her head and scowled at Frank. “That Witness to Evil movie’s on tonight, remember? We were all going to watch.”
“I wasn’t,” Gail put in. She hadn’t stopped eating all through Frank’s announcement.
“Sorry to interrupt your television schedule, everyone,” Veronica put in with her trademark smirk. “But the TV set is being removed from the great room as we speak. Enjoy your breakfast.”
Most of the house seemed to get over their disappointment by the time breakfast was over. But not Mikey. He eventually started eating again, but he stayed pretty cranky. I saw him shoot Frank an evil look or ten, though I’m not sure Frank noticed.
After the meal, when everyone scattered, Frank and I slipped away and headed outside. We wanted to check out the yard again to see if we could find any evidence of Mary’s attacker. It had been pretty dark out there last night. We easily could have missed something.
But even in broad daylight, we didn’t find anything. The culprit had covered his or her tracks well.
“It’s strange.” Frank crouched down, staring at the ground near the woodpile. “It rained the other night, and the ground is still soft. If anyone was standing around here, they should’ve left prints.”
“Even a little girl?” I wasn’t sure I believed there had been a real little girl out there. But someone could have draped a shirt on a stick or something, maybe. “Anyone light enough might not leave prints, even on soft ground.”
“True.” Frank looked thoughtful. “Mary’s quite light herself, and the only sign she was out here is the spot where she fell. So who else is a lightweight?”
“Silent Girl. Ripley, maybe—she’s tall, but she’s almost as skinny as Mary. Even Hal—he’s practically a stick figure.” I shrugged. “Then again, it could just be someone who knew enough to erase their tracks.”
“Yeah.” Frank’s shoulders slumped. “Which equals anyone sneaky enough to pull off all these stunts in the first place.”
We gave up and went back inside. Brynn was just coming down the stairs. “Hey,” she greeted us. “Anyone feel like going for a walk? I could use some fresh air.”
“Sure,” Frank spoke up right away.
He’s such a total Eagle Scout that he’s always the first one to offer to help anyone with anything. But on this particular occasion he sounded a little too eager to help out.
“No,” I blurted out. “Er, I mean, that’s okay. I was just about to head outside for some fresh air myself.” That didn’t make much sense, considering I’d just come in side. But I’ve never let a little thing like logic stop me when there’s a cute girl on the line. “I’ll go.”
I gave Frank a look, silently daring him to argue. He just frowned.
“Whatever,” he muttered. “Have fun, you two.”
Logged Out
“What are you doing?”
I looked up at Joe. “What does it look like?” I waved the book I was reading. “Whatever, dude. Just asking,” he muttered.
I sighed. Things had been a little tense between us for the past day or so. It had started with that walk Joe had taken with Brynn. I admit it—I was starting to think about her. A lot. I was trying not to let it interfere with the case, but it was kind of hard. Especially when Joe kept wandering off with her every chance he got.
It didn’t help that absolutely nothing interesting had happened in the house since breakfast the day before. We’d barely even seen Veronica since my deprivation announcement. At least the mansion had a well-stocked library. I’d spent a lot of time sitting in front of the fire with a book. For one thing, that made it easy to observe my housemates as they wandered in and out of the great room. Although it was a little uncomfortable when Mikey would come in, stare sadly at the spot
where the TV had been, then turn to glare at me.
I didn’t care if Mikey was annoyed with me. But being at odds with my brother was getting old. I closed my book and stood up.
“Hey,” I told Joe. “Let’s, um, go see if there’s any bottled water left in the supply closet.”
“Okay.”
I was in the lead as we rounded the corner. Mikey was just stepping out of the closet. He sort of jumped when he spotted us.
“Oh! Hey, guys,” he said. “I was just in there getting more, uh, toilet paper.”
“Really?” said Joe. “Where is it?”
Mikey glanced down at his empty hands. “Oh. Um, when I got in there I remembered I already got some.”
He hurried off. Joe and I let ourselves into the closet.
“That was weird,” he said. “Mikey, I mean.”
“Yeah.” I did want to talk about the case. But first I had something else to say. “Listen, Joe. About Brynn…”
“What about her?” he demanded, instantly suspicious.
I held up both hands. “Chill, man. I’m just saying we can’t let her distract us, okay? We’re supposed to be working here.”
He shrugged. “If you say so.”
He still sounded pretty tense. Fine. I wasn’t going to jolly him out of it this time. He was a big boy—he would just have to deal.
“Okay, we should probably talk about the latest incident—Mary getting shoved out by the wood-pile.”
“What about it?” Joe shook his head. “We already decided that was a dead end for now. Anyway, I think we should talk about Mikey. He’s been acting weirder and weirder. I think he should be on the top of the suspect list.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Too bad you had to go and tick him off by taking away his precious TV,” Joe added. “It would be a lot easier to question him if he wasn’t moping around.”
“Look, Joe,” I said with a flash of irritation. “If you’re mad about something, why don’t you just come out and—”
The door swung open. “There you guys are!” Ripley was standing there, smiling at us from beneath the brim of her latest hat.
Oh, right. I forgot to mention that one thing had happened in the house in the past twenty-four hours. Ripley had started wearing hats.
Okay, I’ll admit it. I should have noticed sooner, being a trained detective and all. I guess fashion stuff just doesn’t stand out to me. But the other girls had complimented her at breakfast on her little beret-type cap thingy. Then later, when she turned up in some kind of sparkly cowboy hat, James had made some obnoxious comments.
Ripley had ignored him. She just kept saying she was “going to make hats cool again.” Whatever that meant. Maybe she thought they looked better with her new curly hairdo or something. Who knows how girls like Ripley think?
“Were you looking for us?” Joe asked her. “Is there a surprise competition or something?”
“Not right now.” She glanced up and down the hall, then leaned closer. “But I heard there’s going to be one tomorrow. And then an elimination right afterward.”
“Really?” I was surprised. “But it hasn’t been a full week yet since the last elimination.”
Joe shot me a look. “Lighten up, Frank,” he said. “Not everybody schedules their whole lives down to the second like you do.”
I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to snap back at him. It was weird—Joe and I don’t argue very often. But when we do, he can get under my skin like nobody else.
“So is that what you were coming to tell us?” I asked Ripley.
“Oh! No,” she said. “Mary just told me Veronica ordered someone to bring in more wood for the fire right now.” She shrugged. “Mary’s afraid to go out there by the woodpile after what happened, and I figured I worked hard enough yesterday doing all the cooking.” She reached out and touched me lightly on the arm. “So tag! You’re it.”
“Okay, I’m on it.” Joe and I weren’t accomplishing much anyway. Maybe a little manual labor would clear my head. Besides, I still couldn’t believe there wasn’t some little clue we’d missed out there where Mary had been attacked. That was another thing I’d learned working with ATAC. The bad guys almost always mess up something, even if it’s just the tiniest detail. If you can find their mistake, you can nab them.
Joe didn’t offer to come out and help. Maybe he was feeling as sick of me as I was of him right then. Or maybe he was planning to run off and find Brynn. I tried not to think about it as I headed outside.
It had been a chilly day, with showers off and on. Nobody else was outside.
I wandered across the yard, trying to gauge the distance from the garbage cans to the woodpile. Maybe thirty yards, give or take. Had it really been a little girl Mary had seen? If not, what had she seen? Had someone from the mansion pushed her down? It had been pretty chaotic right afterward—it wasn’t too hard to believe that someone could’ve slipped in and joined the crowd.
I had reached the woodpile by now. As I grabbed a log, I heard an odd sound. What was that?
Pausing, I cocked my head. Was I going crazy? Or had that sounded like… a little girl laughing?
I held my breath, hoping to hear it again. Instead, I heard an ominous rumble.
“No!” I shouted, starting to jump backward.
But it was too late. The entire woodpile came crashing down on top of me.
Off Camera
“It’s your brother!” Olivia skidded to a stop in front of me and Brynn. “I think he’s hurt!”
I jumped up, sending my handful of playing cards flying all over the great room. “Where?”
“The yard. Ann and I were going out to the ice shed, and we were just in time to see the whole pile of firewood fall on his head,” she said breathlessly as she led the way down the stairs to the back door. “He must have grabbed the wrong log and brought the pile down on himself.”
That didn’t sound like Frank. He’s not a grab-some-random-log kind of guy. No, I realized grimly, if the woodpile had come down on Frank’s head, someone else had made that happen.
We burst out into the yard. Frank was just sitting up and Ann was looking down at him with concern. He put a hand to his head, looking kind of woozy.
“What happened?” he mumbled as I reached his side.
“Don’t move,” I ordered. Glancing back at Olivia, I added, “Get the medics.”
The medics who work on the show are real pros. They checked Frank over from head to toe. Aside from some scrapes and bruises and a big bump on the noggin, he was okay.
“You were lucky,” the head medic told him as she packed up her stuff. “It could have been much worse.”
“Yeah!” Bobby T exclaimed. Along with everyone else in the mansion, he’d come outside to rubberneck. “He could’ve been killed!”
One of the show’s producers was sort of hovering around, watching. “Don’t panic, everyone. No real harm done,” he said, adjusting his power tie. “I’m sure it was just an accident, but one of the PAs is reviewing the tapes from the camera out there just to be sure.”
At that moment Sylvia came running. “Bad news, boss,” she said. “There’s no footage.”
“What do you mean, no footage?” The producer frowned. “The cameras are all still on.”
Sylvia shrugged. “Yeah, it was on, but there’s no picture. Must’ve been blocked or something.”
“Where’s the camera?” I was already scanning the area. There were several large trees that could be hiding the camera in question, along with the back of the ice shed. “Let’s see if it’s been disabled.”
The producer hesitated. I guessed he didn’t want to give away the location of the hidden camera. Then he glanced at Frank’s bandaged forehead and shrugged.
“It’s in the knothole in that tree over there.” He pointed.
I gestured to James, who was standing with the others. “Give me a lift,” I said.
James didn’t seem too happy about the request. But he did it,
hoisting me up so I could see the hidden camera.
“Here’s the culprit.” I reached in and pulled out a large, damp leaf.
“Dude, you’re dripping on me,” James complained. He let me drop to the ground a little harder than necessary.
I showed the leaf to the producer. “This was draped over the lens.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t seem too concerned. “Must have blown over it. Bad luck.”
I wasn’t so sure luck had anything to do with it. For one thing, the leaf was from a completely different kind of tree than the one where the camera was hidden.
When I glanced over at Frank, I forgot about all that for a moment. Brynn was kneeling beside him, brushing some dirt off his shirt.
“You poor thing,” she said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She picked a twig out of his dark hair. He blushed. And right then, for a tiny little fraction of a second, I entertained the idea that Frank might have done this on purpose to get Brynn’s attention.
Nah. That had to be my paranoia talking. That wasn’t Frank’s style. He might be a woman-stealing jerk, but he wasn’t that sneaky.
Kidding. Sort of.
Anyway, I pretended I wanted to help Frank clean himself up. We locked ourselves in the bathroom and discussed what had happened.
“Whoever did this is getting more serious,” said Frank. “We need to step up our efforts before someone gets hurt.” He winced and touched his bandaged head. “Seriously hurt, that is.”
“Someone must’ve been hiding behind the woodpile,” I said. “Maybe we can narrow down who it could have been. See who doesn’t have an alibi.”
We left the bathroom and split up. By asking around, we managed to account for almost everyone’s whereabouts at the time. The only ones with no alibi were Mikey, Gail, and Mary. We eliminated Mary right away—not only had she been the prankster’s latest target, but she was now terrified to go anywhere near the woodpile. Then there was Mikey. He said he’d been in the basement. As for Gail, she claimed she’d been taking a nap upstairs.
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