I was about to ask “Who?” again but held my tongue.
Forty-five minutes later, all of the mansions started to look alike. The tour guide kept listing off the names of “legendary” stars—like Joan Crawford, Greer Garson, Betty Hutton, and a bunch of others I’d never heard of—and I was starting to get bored. In fact, I began to doze off a little.
Finally he said a name I recognized.
“This modern-style mansion belongs to Miss Vee Sharp, one of today’s hottest young music stars.”
I snapped awake.
“Stop the bus!” I shouted, jumping to my feet.
Jolly Pauly looked at me as if I were crazy. “Are you serious, young man?”
Frank stood up next to me. “Yes, sir. Could you let us off? Right here? Please?”
“I’m not supposed to let anyone off,” the tour guide explained. “It’s against the rules.”
“But my brother is feeling dizzy,” said Frank, nudging me.
I covered my mouth with my hand and puffed out my cheeks. “I’m going to be sick!”
“Not on my bus!” the guide cried, jumping to his feet. “Driver! Pull over!”
The driver slammed on the brakes, and Frank and I climbed off the bus. The tour guide stuck his head out the window. “Do you want us to wait while he . . . ?”
“Hurls?” said Frank. “No, thanks. He needs fresh air right now. I’ll call our aunt to pick us up.”
The guide shrugged and nodded. I pretended to bend over in pain until the bus disappeared down the road. Then, finally, I stood up and stretched. My legs were half-asleep, and I had to hop up and down on the sidewalk to wake them up.
“Wow. Check it out,” said Frank, gazing over my shoulder.
I turned around.
Wow is right.
Vee’s home was incredible. A sleek modern mansion made of gleaming white stone and tinted glass, it was set back a hundred feet from the road and surrounded by a rolling green landscape of exotic plants, rock gardens, and reflecting pools. I walked up to the black iron gate for a better look.
“Well? Can you see your girlfriend?” asked Frank.
“Drop it, dude.”
The sun was setting fast. As the sky darkened, I began to make out shapes moving behind the large glass windows of the house.
“Look!” Frank said, pointing. “There she is!”
I squinted my eyes and, sure enough, I recognized Vee’s slender silhouette outlined against the sunset. It looked like she was talking to someone. Her arms waved in the air and flopped to her sides. Then her whole posture changed. Her shoulders slumped down—as if she were upset about something.
Suddenly a smaller figure walked up behind her.
Her little sister.
“Look, Frank! It’s Kay!”
The younger girl raised her arm and pointed her finger at Vee. It looked like she was yelling and accusing her sister.
“This looks bad, Frank,” I said. “I wish we could get closer to the house. I’m worried about Vee being alone with Kay.”
“What are we supposed to do, Joe? Climb the fence and break in?”
I glanced up at the iron bars. “We could, Frank,” I said. “We could climb over this gate and get a closer look . . . no problem.”
Frank sighed. “Are you crazy? That’s trespassing.”
“And if Kay kills Vee, that’s murder.”
My brother took a deep breath. “Okay, Joe. We’ll do it. But let’s wait a few minutes until the sun goes down.”
It didn’t take long before the whole neighborhood was plunged into darkness. A pair of tall rectangular lamps illuminated the front gate—so Frank and I ducked into the shadows of a large bamboo plant.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll go first.”
“Do you need a boost?”
“Dude. I’m not a wimp.”
I grabbed a couple of the bars with my hands, pulled myself off the ground, and started shimmying upward. I’d almost reached the top when I felt my legs slipping.
“Um, Frank. About that boost . . .”
“I thought you said . . .”
“Just give me a boost!”
My brother pushed and up I went. Soon I was scrambling over the top. It was an eight-foot jump to the ground on the other side. At least I would land on grass.
I jumped.
“Oof.”
Hitting the ground with a soft thud, I tripped, stumbled, and rolled across the grass.
“Real smooth,” whispered Frank.
“Let’s see if you can do any better.”
To my surprise, he did. I didn’t even have to give him a boost through the bars. Up and over, he scaled the fence like a professional gymnast. After he landed perfectly on his feet, I couldn’t resist rating his jump.
“Nine point two.”
“Give me a break. That was a ten.”
“Your dismount’s a little weak.”
“So is your brain.”
We stopped talking and headed toward the mansion. Small globe lights lit the path through the garden. Creeping through the shadows, we made our way closer—until we saw Vee standing in the window.
She was looking right at us.
“Duck!”
I grabbed Frank by the shoulder and pulled him down next to me behind a large shrub.
“I don’t think she saw us,” I whispered.
Frank rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Do you realize what we’re doing, Joe? We’re stalking a celebrity.”
“No, we’re protecting a celebrity.”
My brother never got a chance to respond.
A loud alarm pierced the silence.
Giant floodlights lit up the yard.
The sound of barking grew louder behind us.
10.
Boys Behind Bars
I don’t believe this.
That’s what I thought as we took off running toward the fence—with three huge Dobermans snapping at our heels.
I’m going to kill my brother.
That’s what I thought when the police showed up—and arrested us for breaking and entering.
Joe and I were immediately handcuffed and taken to a Los Angeles police station for further questioning. I asked if we could make a phone call, but the police wanted to photograph and fingerprint us first.
We’re criminals now.
“You’re not going to call Aunt Trudy, are you?” Joe asked before I dialed the phone.
“Are you kidding? She’d have a heart attack. I’m calling Dad.”
As a former cop, he would know how to handle the situation.
“Hello?”
Unfortunately, Mom picked up the phone. She and Dad were about to sit down to dinner—and she wanted to know all about Hollywood and the video shoot.
“Everything’s great, Mom,” I lied. “The video is a lot of hard work, but it’s fun. I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, I need to ask Dad a question.”
She passed the phone to my father. I wasted no time telling him exactly what had happened. And he didn’t mince any words because Mom could hear what he was saying.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
That’s all he said. The phone went dead. I looked at Joe and shrugged, then a police officer escorted us back to our cell.
Twenty minutes later a tall, barrel-chested cop with a thick Brooklyn accent unlocked the door.
“I’m Officer Daniels,” he told us. “I used to work with your father on the force back in New York. You’re free to go.”
We followed him past a long row of jail cells and into the main lobby.
“Did you talk to our dad?” I asked the officer.
“Yeah. He told me that you boys were doing a little undercover work for him.”
“Is that why you’re letting us go?”
Officer Daniels shook his head. “Actually, Ms. Sharp dropped all the charges.” He nodded across the room.
Vee Sharp sat on a bench reading a magazine.
“
Vee!” Joe blurted out.
The pop star looked up and smiled. “Bad boys, bad boys,” she sang sweetly. “You know, I was going to bake you a cake with a file in it, but I decided it was easier this way.”
We rushed over, laughing.
“We’re really sorry about this, Vee,” I said.
“Totally. We were just looking out for you,” Joe explained. “Honest.”
Vee squinted her eyes. “Why should I trust a pair of ex-convicts?”
“Because you live for danger?” Joe offered.
Vee pointed and winked. “You got that right,” she said, standing up. “Come on, boys. I’ll give you a lift back to your hotel.”
Aunt Trudy almost fell off her bar stool when she saw Joe and me pull up in Vee Sharp’s red BMW convertible.
“Now that’s what I call star treatment,” she said, waving from the poolside bar.
“That’s our Aunt Trudy,” Joe explained to Vee. “Please don’t say anything about us getting arrested.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” She stood up and waved across the pool. “Hi, Aunt Trudy!”
We climbed out, said good night to Vee, and watched her drive off into the night. Then we joined Aunt Trudy at the pool bar.
“So, boys,” she said, sipping a soda. “I guess this means that you got to go inside Vee Sharp’s house.”
No, but we were inside a jailhouse.
“Yes, Aunt Trudy,” I lied.
“And?” she asked. “Is it just as beautiful as the outside?”
Joe started to making up stuff to tell her about Vee’s house. I decided it was my chance to slip away and call Dad on my cell phone. Circling around to the other side of the pool house, I speed-dialed his private number.
“Hello?”
“Dad, it’s Frank.”
“Are you out of jail?”
“Yes. Vee Sharp dropped the charges.”
“Yes, I know. Officer Daniels told me that she showed up at the station.”
“Did you tell him about our mission?”
“Not everything. Of course, he doesn’t know that you’re official agents for ATAC. But he knows that Vee is in danger. I asked him to do me a favor and send in some cops to check out the set tonight.”
“But Dad! Vee doesn’t want anyone to know! She’s afraid the press will find out.”
“Don’t worry. No one is going to know. I promise.”
The next morning Joe and I had to fight our way through a mob of reporters at the studio entrance.
“Do you boys know Vee Sharp?”
“Do you have any idea who’s trying to kill her?”
“Do you think this will help or hurt her career?”
The questions came flying, fast and furious. And the cameras’ flashbulbs were blinding our eyes.
“Let them through! Let them through!” shouted the security guard.
I pushed Joe through the crowd.
“Hey, you! Joe Hardy!” one of the reporters yelled. “Are you Vee Sharp’s new boyfriend?”
My brother stopped and stared back. “How do you know my name?” he asked.
The reporter changed the subject. “Have you set a wedding date yet?”
Joe’s jaw dropped open. “A wedding date?”
The reporter started writing in his notepad. “I guess the answer is yes.”
“No!”
“No? So you two have broken up?”
Joe gawked. “Broken up? We haven’t even had a single date!”
Another reporter stepped forward. “Are you planning to ask her out, Joe?” she said, pointing a microphone.
Joe started stammering. I gave him a shove and pushed him toward the gate.
Another reporter’s voice boomed out above the others.
“WHY DID VEE SHARP BAIL YOU OUT OF JAIL?”
Joe and I froze.
They know!
“WHY WERE YOU TWO STALKING HER?”
Oh, no.
I felt my face turning red, but I didn’t want the reporters to see me rattled. I ducked my head down and slipped through the gate, shoving Joe ahead of me. The reporters went crazy, firing off more questions and snapping more photos.
If this is what it’s like to be famous, I’d rather be a total nobody.
It was too late now. The press knew who we were. They knew we’d been arrested. And they knew that Vee Sharp had gotten us out of jail.
I could just see tomorrow’s headline: POP STAR FREES PRISON PALS!
What if Aunt Trudy reads it?
I was almost tempted to turn around and try to straighten things out with the reporters. But I knew it would be a big mistake. They would just twist my words and make everything worse.
“No more questions!” I shouted.
Joe and I started to head for Building A when a loud siren started blaring. We turned around to see what it was.
An ambulance zoomed around the corner.
“Move back!” yelled the security guard. “Everybody, move back!”
“What’s this?” Joe muttered.
Lights flashing and siren screaming, the ambulance whizzed past the mob of reporters and zipped through the studio gates.
It stopped in front of Building A.
“No way,” Joe said, gasping.
Two paramedics hopped out of the ambulance. They grabbed a stretcher and dashed into the soundstage.
Joe took off after them.
I tried to catch up, stumbling through the doorway and tripping over cables. Inside, people were rushing around in a panic, waving the paramedics toward the back of the building.
“Hurry! Before it’s too late!” someone yelled.
Too late?
I charged forward, hurdling over the fake craters on the moon set. When I reached the rear entrance, I almost collided with my brother. He stood frozen in the doorway, staring outward.
“No! It can’t be,” he said.
I looked over to see the paramedics put the stretcher down.
They were in front of Vee’s trailer.
“Please, be okay, Vee,” Joe whispered. “Please, be okay.”
Most of the crew had gathered around the Mansion on Wheels. Everyone was quiet.
“I’m going in,” Joe announced.
I grabbed my brother by the shoulders. “No, Joe. You’ll only be in the way. Let the paramedics do their job.”
He clenched his teeth. “I just have to know what’s going on.”
Brewster Fink came up behind us.
“Brace yourself, guys,” he said.
We turned and looked at him.
“What’s going on, Brewster?” Joe asked. “What happened?”
Brewster took a deep breath.
“Vee’s been poisoned.”
11.
Poison Pen
Poisoned?
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.
Why? Why weren’t we here to stop it?
My stomach twisted into one giant knot. If Vee was murdered while Frank and I wrangled with those stupid reporters, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
I stared at Vee’s trailer.
What’s going on in there?
I saw somebody inside walking past a window.
Vee?
No. It was one of the paramedics. But I couldn’t see what she was doing.
“We screwed up, Frank,” I whispered. “We were supposed to protect her.”
My brother put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Joe. We still don’t know what happened. Maybe it’s not Vee in there.”
I looked him in the eye. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t see Jillian here. Maybe she’s inside the trailer. Maybe she’s . . .”
He stopped talking and sighed.
Suddenly the trailer door swung open—and Jillian Goode popped her head out.
“She’s okay, everybody!” she shouted.
The whole crew cheered.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Spider Jones wailed. “I thought my
video was finished!”
I shot the skinny director a dirty look. “Is that all you think about? Your stupid video?” I asked him. “What about Vee?”
Spider shrugged. “You heard what Jillian said. Vee is okay! Okay?”
I was about to give that freak a piece of my mind when Jillian started waving at us.
“Joe! Frank! Come here! Vee wants to talk to you!”
I turned away from Spider and followed my brother into the trailer. Jillian ushered us quickly inside.
“Hi, guys!”
Vee smiled up at us from her lounge chair—and she looked as healthy as ever.
“Vee!” I said, rushing over. “Are you all right?”
“She’s a very lucky girl,” said one of the paramedics. “She started to drink from this.”
He held a popular brand of bottled water in his gloved hands.
“Water?” said Frank.
The paramedic pointed to a handwritten message on the label.
It read: NUMBER 4: POISON.
“I saw the handwriting when I tilted the bottle to take a drink,” Vee explained. “I spit it out immediately.”
The paramedic looked at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the emergency room with us, Ms. Sharp? Just to make sure you didn’t swallow anything poisonous?”
Vee shook her head. “Believe me, I’m fine. The water barely touched my lips.”
“Whatever you say, Ms. Sharp.” The paramedics started packing up their things. “We’ll take this to the lab and run some tests. I’m sure the police will want to dust the bottle for fingerprints.”
Vee’s eyes opened wide. “No police! If we tell them about this, then the whole studio will be crawling with reporters.”
I glanced at Frank.
“Should you tell her or should I?” he said.
The paramedics dropped their heads, grabbed their bags, and left the trailer quickly.
Vee looked up at us. “What?”
I cleared my throat. “The reporters are already waiting at the front gate. They assaulted Frank and me with questions. They know you got us out of jail last night.”
Vee groaned and flopped back in her chair. “What next?”
“Maybe you should just call it a day, Vee,” I suggested. “Go home and get some rest.”
“Are you kidding? The reporters will be waiting for me there, too.” She stood up and started pacing her trailer. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to stay right here and finish this video! Jillian, go tell Spider that I’m getting ready for the next scene.”
Top Ten Ways to Die Page 6