Fairday didn’t want to break the spell. She wanted to give him plenty of time to divulge some of the secrets about her house. She smiled, giving Larry an encouraging nod, and looked back down at her notepad.
He went on. “Well, you can imagine—a rich, famous explorer sets up camp in a small town, and everybody takes notice. But he doesn’t just set up camp. He builds the largest and most intricate house the town has ever seen. Then or now,” he added with emphasis. “Folks couldn’t help but want to know all the details. It took a long time to build, so everyone’s interest was strong. And for years, it gave people something to talk about while they sat on their front porches.” He paused, lost in thought for a moment. “It wasn’t long after that when tragedy struck.” He lowered his voice as he continued. “Thurston’s wife, Cora Lynn, passed away in the house giving birth to their daughter, Ruby.”
Fairday’s hand stopped for a moment as she processed Larry’s words. She knew Ruby’s mother had died but didn’t realize it had happened in her house. For a moment she wasn’t sure she was prepared for the rest of the story.
“I hope I haven’t spooked you, my dear. That’s not my intention,” he said.
Fairday gave him a small smile. “I’m okay, Mr. Lovell. So, what happened after that? Did Thurston and Ruby stay in the house?” she asked.
“Why, yes, they did. For years Ruby and Thurston went about their lives, though with a great deal of sadness hanging over them. Still, her father was wealthy, and Ruby never wanted for anything. Oh, there were happy times, I’m sure. She grew up with every advantage and eventually met a young man she planned to marry.” Shaking his head, he said, “ ‘The Missing Bride’ was the first article I covered about the Begonia House. Ruby was set to be married at the family home when she suddenly went missing. Unbelievable, really. There were so many people around, setting up for the biggest event Ashpot had ever seen, and not one person knew what happened to the bride-to-be. The police interviewed everyone on the scene, but there were few clues, and unfortunately, Miss Begonia was never seen nor heard from again.”
Fairday felt the hairs on her arms stand up. He wrote the article! She had the very article that Larry was talking about. Should she show it to him? Fairday decided to whip it out. “Well, Mr. Lovell, it’s interesting that you mention the disappearance of Ruby Begonia, because I found this article upstairs in my house, and I was planning to ask you about it.” She forced herself to breathe evenly as she passed it across the table.
Nodding, he read the headline, mouthing the words. “Yes, yes. That was a sad day in Ashpot, and an occurrence her father never got over. Thurston kept to himself after she disappeared, never wanting guests. He had roses delivered every month, but the maid answered the door and was instructed to place them in his study. Her account of what she saw reinforced rumors that the family was cursed. Now, what intrigues me is where you found this. Upstairs, you said?” He watched her with interest.
“Um, yes,” Fairday answered. “My friend found it in a stack of old newspapers while we were exploring a room on the third floor—”
Before she could finish her sentence, he practically shouted, “You’ve been up on the third floor? What were you doing there? What about the padlock?” He looked terrified as he rattled off each question.
“Uh, yeah. My father unlocked it so we could see what was up there.” She decided to leave out the reason for her father unlocking the door. “Why? Do you know something about the third floor?” Fairday asked.
Breathing deeply, Mr. Lowell replied, “Yes, I think I do. You see…the last article I wrote about the house concerned the death of Thurston Begonia. The events of the incident were unclear, but he was found dead outside the home. It was believed he jumped or was pushed off the third-floor balcony—again, a mystery that was never solved. I put the lock on myself and gave the key to the police. I should have known someone would eventually go up there if the house ever sold. Though, honestly, I never believed anyone would think of buying it.” His blue eyes drifted to the side and he gazed out the window.
Fairday’s heart skipped a beat as a flash of the willow tree coming to life ran through her mind’s eye. In almost a whisper, she reiterated, “He fell from the balcony and died?”
“No, my dear. I said it wasn’t determined how he died. Falling implies it was an accident, and I do not believe his death was accidental.” He closed his eyes. Clearing his throat, he refocused on Fairday. “Is there anything else you would like to know, Miss Morrow?”
His manner suggested that the interview was coming to an end. Suddenly, Fairday felt panicked. She hadn’t asked him anything she could use for the biography project. She began to sift through her papers. Larry seemed to sense her agitation and grabbed her arm. Fairday stopped and looked up at him.
“I was well aware we weren’t going to be talking about me this morning, so I took the liberty of writing down some facts about myself for your school project. This should be sufficient,” he said, sliding a piece of paper across the table.
Fairday picked it up, a wave of relief washing over her. It seemed he had outlined his entire life. Feeling grateful for this man’s clever kindness, she concluded that his grumpy exterior was just a mask. Larry Lovell was definitely an ally. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate all of this,” she said, standing up and pushing her chair back.
She walked over to him and extended her hand. Grasping it tightly, he pulled her in closer. In a hushed tone, he said, “Be careful, Miss Morrow. That house is not to be taken lightly.” He squeezed her hand harder as he continued. “As I said, there are people who believe the family had some kind of evil curse placed on them and that there’s something not quite right about the home.” He released his grip and settled back into his chair.
Fairday stood there staring at Larry Lovell. He had just confirmed that whatever it was she and Lizzy were dealing with was real, and it was definitely dangerous. “Um, thanks again, Mr. Lovell, for everything. I won’t take it lightly.” She didn’t know what to say. Should she tell him about the things she had found? Should she tell him about the sneaker? What about the lady in the mirror and the tree that had tried to grab her? Holy cow! Fairday thought in bewilderment. Could that have been how Thurston Begonia had died? Was he pulled off the balcony?
These questions must have been written across her forehead, because no sooner had she thought them than Larry said, “Remember, young lady, you have to think beyond what you know to be real. You have to see with your mind as well as your eyes.” He pulled his glasses down to the end of his nose and looked at her. “And if you ever need my help, just call, and I’ll be there.” He then turned back to his newspaper, which he shook lightly in the air, and began reading.
Fairday spotted Lizzy sitting at a table with her face inches away from a computer. She was clicking the mouse as she moved it back and forth. Leaning over her shoulder, pointing to something on the screen, was none other than Brocket the Rocket. This should be interesting, thought Fairday, and she hurried across the library to meet her friends.
Fairday stepped up behind Marcus and Lizzy. “Hi, guys,” she said, poking both of them on the shoulder. They looked up at her in surprise. “I see you two have met.” Fairday smirked, trying to give her best friend the eye signal that this was the Brocket the Rocket she had told her about. Lizzy gave a quick nod, acknowledging that she had already put that together.
“Yeah, I was busy working on enhancing the image when I was interrupted by advice being thrown at me,” Lizzy said, pointing a thumb in Marcus’s direction as she rolled her eyes, but there was warmth in her voice.
“What?” Marcus replied. “Don’t tell me my advice wasn’t helpful. You did what I said, and it worked!” He nodded confidently. Lizzy’s laughter rang out, catching the sharp ears of the librarian. She glared at them and put a finger to her lips.
Fairday gave her an apologetic grin, then turned back to the screen. Leaning between her friends, she whispered, “So what’ve you got
?”
“Well, it took a while, but I enhanced the writing on the back of the picture, and I was able to decipher what it says. Look at this—you’re going to freak out.” Lizzy pointed to the monitor, which displayed the blurry but legible writing from the back. “So Ruby Begonia knew about the key.”
Before Fairday could respond, Marcus blurted out, “Who’s Ruby Begonia?” The two girls quickly focused their eyes on Marcus, who immediately took a step back. “I don’t want to butt in or anything, but this sounds really interesting.”
Both girls smiled as they shot each other an approving glance. “Okay, Marcus, you want in?” Lizzy asked.
“In on what?” Marcus replied.
“In on the DMS,” said Fairday, pausing for effect before spelling it out. “The Detective Mystery Squad.”
Lizzy chimed in. “It’s our club. We piece together evidence to uncover the truth about unsolved cases. I’m the head technical supervisor, and Fairday’s the senior investigator.” She nodded importantly at Fairday. “We’ve been in business for two years.”
“Really?” Marcus eyed them suspiciously. “What’ve you solved so far?”
“That’s classified,” Fairday said. “Only members of the DMS have access to that information, though a bunch of people have tried to join.”
“Well, what would I have to do to join? If I wanted to, that is.” Marcus seemed a little nervous.
Lizzy kept her eyes glued to his as she said in her most serious tone, “You have to answer a question.”
“That’s it?” he said.
“That’s it,” Lizzy replied, then added, “I mean, no one has ever answered it correctly, but you seem pretty smart…maybe you’ll get it.”
Marcus’s eyes lit up. “One question? I think I can handle that.” His confidence was leaking out his ears. Fairday couldn’t help but laugh as he exclaimed, “No problem!”
“All right, then,” Lizzy said as she stood up from her chair. “I vote we initiate Brocket the Rocket into the DMS. Fairday, what do you think?” Marcus looked stunned that Lizzy knew his nickname, but before he could open his mouth to speak, she put her hand on his shoulder. “Yes, yes, I know all sorts of stuff about you, Marcus Brocket,” she said in her most studious voice. “Your dad is in the FBI and your nickname is Brocket the Rocket because you run really fast. The DMS is known for having all the facts straight before initiating anyone into its society.”
Marcus stood there with his mouth open. Fairday could tell Lizzy had impressed him. Her ease with people always took them by surprise. Fairday bent in close to Lizzy and whispered, “He’s cool. We should let him in—if he gets the riddle, that is.” Both girls turned to face Marcus, whose nerves seemed to be wavering once again.
The question they had decided to use for initiation into the DMS was a version of an ancient riddle, but Fairday thought it was perfect. She and Lizzy had spent days poring over books and joke magazines to come up with a really hard question that only the extraordinarily quick-witted could answer. Lizzy had found it in one of Fairday’s favorite books, Dragons and Other Fabulous Beasts. The solution to the riddle was simple enough, though even Fairday wondered if she would’ve guessed it correctly without the book. But that didn’t matter. The club belonged to her and Lizzy, and they both knew how clever they were.
“Okay, Marcus. What goes on four legs, on two, and at last on three?” asked Fairday.
A smile spread across his face, and he seemed to regain his self-assured composure. “Hmm, what goes on four legs, two legs, and at last on three? Let’s see….” He paused, scratching his chin for effect.
Lizzy shoved him in the arm as she exclaimed, “Just say it if you know it!”
“I think the answer is…,” Marcus said, drawing it out. Lizzy nudged him again when he continued to scratch his chin. Finally, he blurted out, “Man!”
“Nicely done! How’d you know the answer?” Fairday asked.
“It’s the Riddle of the Sphinx. Mythology’s kind of my thing,” Marcus bragged.
The librarian looked up sternly, and Fairday said, “Let’s get out of here.”
“You betcha!” Lizzy replied. “Congratulations, Brocket the Rocket. You’re in.” She emphasized his nickname as she beamed at him.
Lizzy scribbled down the writing from the picture onto a notepad, then stuffed it into her DMS pack. She logged off of the computer, and they made their way across the room, feeling the librarian’s eyes following them all the way out.
The DMS descended the steps of the library, Marcus listening as Lizzy filled him in about the Detective Mystery Squad and the case they were investigating. “So, I mean, the things we found in the house all point to Ruby Begonia being the—” Before Lizzy could finish, she was interrupted by someone yelling.
“Hey, Bart, look, it’s Brocket the Dork and Freakday. What are they, like, married now or something? And who’s the fat girl?” Dif’s words were directed at Marcus, Lizzy, and Fairday, rather than Bart. He was dressed in black, wearing his army jacket, his buzzed hair coated in oily gel. Bart and Sadie flocked around him.
Bart joined in Dif’s taunting and began to chant, “Freakday and Brocket sittin’ in a tree…” Sadie, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable. She had a shy expression on her face and was blushing as she moved away from the boys.
Marcus walked down the steps and right up to Dif. They were eye to eye as he said, “Hey, Dif, taking your pets for a walk?”
“I oughta kick your butt right now, Brocket. You need to step off,” Dif spat out.
Suddenly, Lizzy pushed past Fairday, flipped her curls, and walked right into the middle of the confrontation. She addressed Sadie cheerfully, extending her hand in welcome. “Hi, I’m Lizzy. What’s your name?”
Sadie seemed confused, as did the boys, whose anger began to dissipate. She stared at Lizzy for several moments, then shook her hand and smiled.
“Hi, I’m Sadie. It’s really nice to meet you. Are you one of Fairday’s friends from New York City?” she asked, moving even farther away from Dif.
All eyes were on the girls as Dif backed away from Marcus. Lizzy answered, “Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you too! I hope we get a chance to hang out sometime.” She calmly turned her attention on Dif. “Dif, is it? I wouldn’t go around making fun of people if I were you. It doesn’t win you any friends.”
Dif was speechless. Lizzy had managed, yet again, to make another boy’s mouth drop open. Marcus seemed impressed by her boldness and how unaffected she was by Dif calling her fat. Fairday and Lizzy shared the belief that, as long as you are true to yourself, and happy with who you are, no one can hurt you with their words.
The DMS walked away from Dif and his gang and Fairday noticed Sadie was now by herself, crossing to the other side of the street. She was heading for the ice cream shop where girls from their class were gathered out front, laughing and eating whipped cream sundaes.
It was decided that the DMS would meet after lunch to work on the case. Marcus lived right over the hill from Fairday. He told them there was a trail that started in his yard and went through the woods that led up to the Begonia House. Fairday and Lizzy promised to be at the front gate around three o’clock. He turned back and waved to them, mouthing, “See you later,” as he climbed into his father’s pickup truck.
“I can’t believe how cool Marcus is!” Lizzy said.
“Yeah. I’m glad he’s in the DMS,” Fairday replied.
“Girls! I’m here!” Mrs. Morrow called out. She looked frazzled as she pulled up to them.
“Hi, Mom,” Fairday said as she climbed into the car. “How’d it go?”
“Ugh, it was a pain, as I knew it would be. I was happy to get your text so I could get out of that place. Anyway, we have to pick up Margo from day care, and then we can finally go home. Hallelujah! I hope she had a good day, or we’re all in for it.”
Fairday and Lizzy walked down to the front gate after they had eaten a fast lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches, accompanied
by what was known in the Morrow family as “Mouse Fillets,” which were skinned pickles thinly sliced into mini-fillets—another one of Mr. Morrow’s creative food endeavors. Fairday had to give him credit; they were delicious and much more interesting than having a plain pickle. She opened up the front gate, and the two girls waited for Marcus to arrive.
“So, what do you think about the writing on the picture?” Lizzy asked, looking down at the note she had scribbled. “ ‘Father, I’m here!’ ” she read aloud. “ ‘Beware the tree when you use the key, turn around and you will see…’ ”
“I wish there was more. I wonder why she stopped writing,” Fairday said. “And if it was in the frame, how would her father have seen it? And where is she? In the mirror?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t think whatever we saw in the mirror is human. I mean, she was really creepy-looking, and her hair seemed alive or something!” Lizzy said.
“I agree. I don’t think that was Ruby Begonia either. She looked like the lady in the picture, except the woman in the mirror seemed evil or possessed. Do you think someone could be disguising themselves as her?” Fairday asked.
Before Lizzy could add her thoughts on the subject, the rumbling sounds of a revving engine speeding up the road tore through the air.
“What’s that?” Lizzy shouted. Her question was answered almost immediately. Brocket the Rocket was racing up the hill, riding a red ATV. He slowed as he reached the gate.
“Hey,” Marcus said coolly, taking off his helmet. Pointing at his black backpack, he added, “I brought some stuff with me.”
“Marcus Brocket, I must say, I had no idea you were going to arrive in such style!” Lizzy said as she walked over and ran her fingers over the handlebars.
He chuckled. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.” He smiled at Lizzy, who looked away, blushing. Fairday laughed to herself at her best friend’s obvious interest in the new member of the DMS.
The Secret Files of Fairday Morrow Page 9