Leo snaps his fingers. “I knew there had to be a logical explanation for how the SUV crossed the river. And look up ahead—a roof.”
I lift my gaze. “Is that a rabbit weather vane on top?”
Leo nods. “Animal designs are the most common for weather vanes. The most famous weather vane is the grasshopper atop Faneuil Hall in Boston. Weather vanes were historically useful because approaching weather systems could be anticipated by the direction of the wind.”
“It’s easier to check a weather app,” I say with a shrug as I take out my sisters’ phone.
After texting Becca with directions, I catch up with Leo as he enters the covered bridge. I’m enveloped in darkness and the smell of damp wood. Shivering, I wrap my arms around my shoulders until I come out into the light on the other side. Tire tracks lead to a faded white picket gate that hangs open. A sign reads: Down the Rabbit Hole, Bed-and-Breakfast Inn.
Below the sign, a word is scrawled in large black letters: CLOSED.
Not Bob, I realize, but B and B. But if it’s closed, why is the gate wide open?
“Impressive architecture.” Leo lifts his gaze to a charming Victorian with gables, turrets, and fancy trim around the windows.
“It seems lonely,” I murmur.
There’s an air of abandonment, like the place is under an enchantment and has been sleeping for many years. Grime-covered windows are like sleepy eyes shutting out the world, while rampant weeds strangle the lawn and garden. The only clues that someone lives here are the open gate, the SUV parked beside a garage, and the barking. High-pitched yapping sounds like those of dozens of little dogs. And it’s coming from the garage.
I’ve found the puppy mill!
Finally, I have proof for the sheriff. I hope he’s gotten Becca’s text and is on the way.
I turn excitedly to Leo—only he’s not there. Putting my hands on my hips, I look around but don’t see him. There’s a rustle from the brambly bushes behind a metal shed.
“Leo?” I whisper nervously.
I step forward just as a tiny rabbit bursts out of the bushes and vanishes into the weeds. I jump back, startled, then smile at my fears. It’s just a wild rabbit.
But where is Leo? I scan the overgrown foliage. He can’t be in the shed because it’s padlocked. Maybe behind it? I walk around the shed and find him pulling branches from dense bushes.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my hands on my hips.
He looks at me with a strange expression. Saying nothing, he pulls back a large leafy branch and points into the bushes.
I gasp at a dirty white vehicle.
My mother’s truck.
- Chapter 20 -
Down the Rabbit Hole
My mind races as I stare at the truck. How long has it been here? Who covered it up with branches? And most importantly, where is my mother?
“No one’s inside.” Leo gestures to the truck as if he’s guessed my fear.
“She’s here somewhere,” I say in a small, scared voice.
Leo points to the B and B. “The most logical location would be in the house.”
“Or the garage where I heard dogs barking.” I shudder as I think of the large cage imprint I found on the barn floor. “I’m going to look for her.”
Leo shakes his head. “No. We should wait here for the sheriff. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“But she might be scared and hurt! We can’t wait…What’s that noise?” I swivel toward the rustling trees bordering the road. “Someone’s coming!”
“It’s probably another wild rabbit,” Leo suggests with a shrug.
“Whatever it is, it’s coming closer!” I gape wild-eyed as I hear a low whirring sound like wheels. “We have to hide.”
Before I can move, two dogs and a grinning girl burst from the trees.
“Finally, I found you!” Becca cries as she’s half dragged by the dogs. Her leopard bandanna sags, and her usually glittery sneakers are caked with dirt. But she looks wonderful to me.
“Becca!” I rush to meet her.
“I had a terrible time getting here.” She pushes back her hair and adjusts her bandanna. “I hit a pothole, and now my tire is flat. It’s a miracle I made it.”
I squeeze her hand. “I’m so glad you found us.”
“I was really lost until Major barked at the road,” she says, wiping dirt from her arm. “What is this place anyway?”
“A closed B and B that may be a puppy mill.” I gesture at the garage, then lead her over to the shed and pull aside the bushes. “Look what Leo found.”
“OMG!” Becca’s hands fly to her face. “Is that what I think it is?”
“My mother’s truck.” Fear twists my gut. “We have to find her.”
Leo shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous to go near the house.”
“He’s right. If there are bad guys here, we don’t want to mess with them.” Becca hands me the leashes to hold and whips out her phone. “We need the sheriff. He hasn’t answered my texts so I’ll try calling him directly.”
“The last time I tried to call him, I got his snotty deputy.”
“But I know his private number,” Becca says with a wry smile. “It’s a perk of him dating Mom.”
While Becca calls, I shift my feet impatiently. I pluck a leaf from the bush and slowly rip it into pieces.
“Sheriff Fischer, it’s Becca.” She gives me a “told you so” look, then adds dramatically, “We’ve found Mrs. Case’s truck!”
Leaf pieces fall from my hand as I lean forward to listen.
“Kelsey recognized it.” Becca nods at something the sheriff says. “Yeah, she’s here with me, and Leo too…uh-huh…at the Down the Rabbit Hole bedand-breakfast inn. I know it’s closed, but we think it’s being used as a puppy mill…What? You can’t be serious. Okay, bye.” She purses her peach-frosted lips as she clicks off.
“Is Sheriff Fischer on his way?” Leo asks.
“He’ll come as soon as he can get away from the scene of a car accident. I heard sirens in the background.” She scowls. “And he ordered us to leave.”
“Not without Mom,” I say stubbornly, wiping my leaf-stained hands on my jeans. “I know she’s here somewhere. Maybe the garage.”
Leo puts a calming hand on my arm. “Kelsey, you can’t rush in there. They could have weapons or attack dogs.”
“We have a trained former police dog,” I point out.
“Major is tired.” Becca pats the German shepherd on his head. “I’m worried about your mother too, but Sheriff Fischer told us to leave because he wants us to be safe. We should let him do his job.”
“I’m not going until I see what’s in that garage,” I insist. “I’ll be careful and stay out of sight.”
Before they can stop me, I run across the weedy ground and through the open gate. They call my name, but I ignore them. I run fast, staying low. The house looks dark, but light shines from the garage windows. The Midgleys must be inside, and Mom could be there too. I’m not going to do anything stupid like try to rescue Mom alone. I just want to see my mother…to make sure she’s okay.
As I slink across the weedy lawn, the sinking sun casts deep shadows that make me feel invisible.
Ducking behind the SUV, I check that the coast is clear. Then I creep closer to the garage, a square wood-sided building separate from the house. The large metal door is rolled closed, but there’s a side door and several windows. Barking echoes from within the building. Creeping to a window, I hold my breath and peer through the glass.
Cages. Dozens of them! All full of tiny bug-eyed pugs. Mostly puppies, but there are a few older dogs too. I try to see farther into the room, but stacked cages block my view. I tiptoe around to the window on the other side.
I gasp. Burl Midgley is lifting a puppy from a cage. We’re inches apart—only separated by the glass pane. His head turns in my direction, and I duck down. My heart thuds like crazy. I’ve stopped breathing. Silently I count to one hundred, blow out a shaky
breath, and rise back to the window.
Burl is gently petting a puppy as he listens to Mrs. Vandameer talk. There’s also a shorter man who resembles Burl and has a scraggly dark beard that dangles to his chest—his brother Merle, I’m sure.
But no sign of Mom.
Could she be inside the B and B house? I look up, up where the rabbit weather vane meets the sky. There must be dozens of rooms in that huge house. I can’t stay here much longer, but I can’t give up without checking the B and B. It should be safe, since the Midgleys are in the garage.
The front door is unlocked. When I step inside, the wooden floor creaks loudly. I sweep my gaze around to look for any sign of danger, but the house is quiet. I move cautiously through the foyer into a high-ceilinged living room where cloths gray with dust drape over the furniture. I lift a cloth to find a velvety gold-colored couch underneath. I notice dusty footprints on the floor. A large print has the same wavy grooves as the ones we found by the abandoned barn.
I follow the footprints past a winding staircase and down a narrow hall decorated with gilt-framed portraits of presidents. I got an A on a quiz on presidents so I recognize Lincoln, Washington, and Jackson. My teacher would be proud, I think with a wry smile.
The footprints stop at a heavy wooden door with an old-fashioned copper knob. I press my ear against the wood, listening. No sounds. I grasp the knob and cautiously twist. The door swings open. I stare into a room with a gigantic desk as a centerpiece and empty shelves bordering the walls. Unlike the other rooms, this floor looks as if it’s been cleaned recently. And the desk has a pen, a stapler, a tissue box, a computer, a printer, and a pile of papers.
I cross over to the desk, smelling a fresh-off-the-printer odor. I reach for a paper, then pull back because I don’t want to leave my fingerprints. Plucking a tissue from the box on the desk, I use it to pick up another certified pedigree like the one I found in the barn. A whole stack of the forged pedigrees!
My pocket dings. I keep forgetting I’m carrying my sisters’ phone. Luckily, it didn’t ding while I was spying at the garage, or the Midgleys would have found me.
The text is from Becca in big, bold letters:
Get out! Now! Danger!
Panic surges through me. I shove the phone back into my pocket and run across the room. As I reach for the door, a sharp creak echoes through the house. Someone has stepped on that squeaky foyer floor.
There’s no running away—danger is here!
Footsteps click-clack down the hall toward me.
Hide! my mind screams. But there’s nothing in the room except the huge desk. I yank the desk chair back and cram myself into the small space. For once, I’m glad to be short.
“Of all the fool things,” a woman says as high heels click into the room. Although there’s no phoney-baloney southern twang, I recognize Mrs. Vandameer’s voice.
I hug my arms around my knees and try not to breathe.
“I ask my boys to do one simple thing, and those imbeciles can’t do it,” she mutters. Papers rustle over my head. Please don’t come around the desk, I think desperately.
I shift, trying to get comfortable. It’s cramped and dusty. Whoever cleaned the room didn’t go under the desk. A cough tickles in my throat, and I cover my mouth. Do not cough!
Footsteps pound from outside the room, and a man says, “Mom, will you hurry? Merle and I don’t know where you want the older dogs. Shouldn’t the moms go with their pups?”
“No. Only the pups are going,” she snaps in an irritated tone. “I told you and your idiot brother that at least a dozen times. Do whatever you want with the older dogs. Leave them or kill them. I don’t care.”
“I don’t like hurting animals,” he argues. “Can’t we sell them too?”
“Not for enough,” she says roughly. “Adult dogs barely sell for a few hundred—and even less if they’re sick. We’re scoring a thousand per puppy from the pet store distributor, and I’ve made twice that for the pups I sold on the side.”
Burl gives a low whistle. “Too bad that one pup got away from us at the barn. Should we go and look again?”
“Don’t be stupid,” his mother snaps. “We can’t stick around here anymore. The sheriff stopped by our house this morning asking about you boys.”
“Don’t let him arrest us,” Burl whines like a scared little boy. “Jail food sucks.”
“I didn’t tell him anything,” she assures him, then slips into a southern accent. “I’m just a sweet old lady trying her best to care for her sons. We’ll be out of here as soon as the pups are picked up.”
“Then will you let the lady go?” Burl adds in a worried tone. “No one knows she’s here and she didn’t see our faces, so she can’t get us in trouble. You said you’d let her out when we left.”
“She’s fine where she is.” Her cold voice chills me, because I’m sure they’re talking about Mom.
Mom is here somewhere. She’s okay…for now.
But I’m in big trouble if I’m caught. I feel the weight in my pocket from the phone. If someone dings with a text, the Midgleys will know I’m here! Quickly, I switch the phone to silent.
“Leave the worries to me, Burl,” his mother adds in a softer tone. “After today, we’re done with puppy mills. We’ll have enough money to finally get out of this boring little town. We can travel anywhere in the world we want.”
“Merle and I were talking about that,” Burl says cautiously. “We know where we want to go.”
“Where?” Her tone sharpens like pointy knives.
“Disneyland. We ain’t been there in a while. I like the pirate ride.”
“Seriously, grow up!” I hear a sharp slap. “You’re thirty-four years old—not four! Get back in the garage and prepare the pups for travel. The transport truck will be here soon.”
“Whatever you say, Mom.” He shuffles away, the door thudding shut.
Mrs. Midgley swears under her breath again about her “idiot sons.” My mother would never say mean things about her kids. I almost feel sorry for the Midgley brothers. But I’m more worried about Mom and scared for myself. One of my legs is going numb. And the cough in my throat itches to come out. Leave already! I want to scream.
But the mean mother continues to shuffle through papers.
“All the certificates are here,” she murmurs. “But where did I put the lockbox key?”
I hear rummaging noises like she’s searching a purse. Keys jingle and she says, “Here it is!”
High heels click on the wooden floor toward the desk where I’m hiding. If she notices the chair is sticking out, she may look down and see me.
Heels click-clack closer.
She reaches out with long, bony fingers toward my hiding place…
- Chapter 21 -
Moving Day
The chair is shoved forward—smashing into me.
Ouch! Instead of screaming, I grit my teeth. I flatten myself and pretend I’m part of the desk.
Don’t look down, I think desperately as she draws close.
“Stupid chair,” she says as she reaches for a bottom desk drawer. She’s so close she could reach out and slap me.
While I can’t see much from my squished position, I hear the metallic click of a key inserted in a lock, followed by a drawer sliding open. She must be taking out the lockbox she mentioned. Hinges creak and paper shuffles. Then Mrs. Midgley turns away, heels click-clacking out of the room.
Whew! Close call!
I unpretzel myself from beneath the desk, but when I try to stand, I almost fall over. My leg has gone numb. I rub my leg muscles, then move toward the door…until I remember the lockbox. What’s inside? I stare at the box as if superglue is sticking me to the floor.
My mystery novels warn that it’s a bad idea to mess with a crime scene. Leave the evidence for the authorities. But I decide to take just a quick peek and pluck out a tissue to cover my fingerprints.
The lockbox isn’t locked. Inside are receipts, envelopes, and a stack of
cash with a hundred-dollar bill on top. Thousands of dollars! I don’t care about the cash, but I recognize writing on one envelope and shove it in my pocket. Whirling around, I scurry like a scared rabbit out of the house.
Ducking behind a porch rail, I glance around to make sure the coast is clear. Shadows move through the window, and the barking grows louder. But no one is outside. I sprint across the lawn, through the open gate, and around the shed where my friends jump up to meet me.
“Kelsey!” Becca throws her arms around my shoulders. “I was so worried—especially when that woman and the bearded dude went into the house. I tried texting, but you didn’t answer.”
“I shut off the phone because I was hiding under a desk.”
“OMG! I’m so glad you didn’t get caught,” Becca cries.
Leo frowns. “You shouldn’t have gone in there.”
“I had to look for Mom. But it was scary.” I shudder. “I would have been caught if Becca hadn’t texted me.”
“Leo started to go after you,” Becca says with a fond look at Leo. “But I held him back. Fortunately, you’re okay and help will be here soon. The sheriff texted that he’s on his way.”
“He better hurry. The horrible woman said she was leaving Mom where she is!” I throw up my hands. “Wherever that is!”
“The sheriff will find her.” Becca gives a start and points at the road. “I think he’s coming now! I hear a car!”
“Yes!” I pump my arm in the air.
We don’t want Sheriff Fischer to know we didn’t leave like he told us to, so we duck out of sight behind the shed and watch the road.
The ground rumbles and branches quiver. The engine sounds noisier and larger than the sheriff’s pickup truck. When a large, gray moving truck rumbles out of the grove of trees, I gasp.
Not the sheriff, but the puppy movers!
“No! They can’t be here already!” I cry with a panicked look at my friends. “They’re going to take all the puppies away. They’ll probably sell them to pet stores. And the Midgleys will abandon or kill the older dogs!”
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