A Mixture of Mischief
Page 11
Brent stuffed the last quarter of his ojo de buey into his mouth. “I wath bown weady!” He gulped and cleared his throat. “Wait, what are we doing again?”
“You are going to go welcome a new family into town,” Leo said, handing him the gift box. “I am going to do something sneaky.”
CHAPTER 15
THE O’ROURKES
“So your invisibility basically works like my diabetes,” JP said as they turned onto the street where Brent was “eighty-five percent sure” the O’Rourke house would be. “You have to take invisibility powder to stay invisible, I have to take insulin to stay alive. More or less the same deal.”
“I think this is it!” Brent said. “Wait . . .” He turned from the house he was pointing at to the house across the street. “I think that is it!”
The O’Rourkes’ new house was walking distance from the bakery, just a few blocks from Caroline and Brent’s street. It was the kind of house Mamá dreamed of: two stories, brick, with white trim decorating the windows and foggy glass patterning the front door. Leo checked JP’s phone, where Becky O’Rourke’s post showed a short looping video of a big black dog running around the same front yard they were looking at now, ears flopping and tongue lolling.
“Moved in just in time for spring,” the caption read. “Bumble is excited.”
Leo frowned. It was hard to feel like a spy staking out villains when the villains had adorable fluffy pets. Then she shook her head. She couldn’t get distracted from her mission.
“Everyone clear on the plan?” Caroline asked.
“You’ve gone over it five times,” Brent said. “I promise, I’ll stay totally focused.”
“And if not, I’ll accidentally crash into him or something,” JP assured her.
“Why does everybody resort to violence with me?” Brent asked.
JP shrugged. “I’ve known you for like three days, and I can already tell it’s sometimes the only way to get you to stop talking.” He patted Brent’s arm apologetically, making the shorter boy blush.
“Just stick to Caroline’s plan, and everything will go perfectly,” Leo said before the teasing could continue. “Don’t forget that I’ll signal if I need help, but it can be hard to hear, so keep an ear out.”
“We’ve got it.” Caroline pushed her bangs out of her eyes and squared her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Leo loosened the top of the leather pouch hanging from her neck. Caroline leaned forward and sniffed. Brent, whose last experience with magic had exploded dramatically, covered his ears and scrunched his eyes closed. JP watched, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.
“Sorry you got kind of thrown in the middle of all this,” she told her cousin. “We would have shown you our magic eventually, probably. But it’s hard to know how to bring it up, and it has to stay sort of secret. So, you know, no social media posts.”
“I get it,” JP said. “I’m just a little . . . I don’t know,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was frustrating when Abuelo Logroño showed up just to tell me that magic was real but I didn’t have any. It was like, I’d been waiting my whole life for something like that, and I blew it. Like I was one of those extra characters in DragonBlood instead of a friend of dragons.”
“Finally,” Brent said, “somebody gets it.”
“Sorry,” JP said. “It’s not cool to be jealous.”
Leo was too baffled to say anything. JP was jealous? JP, who always knew the right joke to tell, who was so good-looking that her friends got all flustered around him, who already felt like a core part of their group? JP was jealous of her? “But you’re so cool!” she blurted out.
Caroline and Brent nodded until Caroline caught herself and pretended to be examining her ring.
JP smiled. “I didn’t mean to fish for that compliment, but thanks. I guess I must be pretty cool, considering how cool my cousins are.”
Leo smiled back. She nodded at her friends. Then she popped a pinch of invisibility powder onto her tongue. With a feeling of jumping off a diving board into ice-cold water, her power took effect.
“That. Is. Wild,” Brent whispered, waving his hand out in front of him and hitting Leo’s shoulder. “Aaah! Is that you? Weird!”
“Okay, okay, stick to the plan,” Caroline whispered. She breathed in deeply before taking determined steps up the front walkway to the O’Rourkes’ door. Balancing the bakery box on one hand, she rang the doorbell, then took three steps back, just like they had learned doing cookie sales as Brownies. (Mamá had a soft spot for Thin Mints in spite of her general ban on factory-produced baked goods.)
A bark sounded from inside. Leo squeezed up the front steps to stand right behind Caroline, close enough to hear a muffled voice trying to hush the protective dog.
“Mom, can you come down here? There’s someone at the— Never mind, I’ve got it.”
The lock clicked and the door cracked open, revealing a pale freckled face and one brown eye. “Um, hi, sorry.” The girl, who looked about Leo’s age, put her hand down to catch a black dog. “Let me just—” Becky O’Rourke gave the dog a gentle shove backward and then slipped out the door and slammed it behind her.
“Hi,” she said again, brushing wispy strands of dark brown hair from her forehead and straightening her T-shirt that showed a cartoon beach. “Can I help you?”
Caroline cleared her throat, glancing over her shoulder at an empty space nowhere near where Leo actually stood. The plan for Leo to slip through the open door while Caroline talked was already a failure. Leo clenched her fists in frustration. Cats didn’t need to be restrained from attacking visitors. Well, most of the time.
Caroline straightened up and held the bakery box out in front of her. “I’m Caroline Campbell. I live in the neighborhood. We brought you some snacks to say welcome.”
“Oh, thank you.” Becky smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “All of you.”
The boys, who had been standing frozen, jerked into motion with belated smiles and waves.
“I don’t live here,” JP said. Not exactly an enthusiastic introduction.
“I’m Brent?” Brent squeaked, which was somehow even worse. Leo buried her face in her hands.
“Sorry about them,” Caroline said. “Brent lives next door to me. And JP is visiting his cousins for spring break. More importantly, however: we brought conchas and puerquitos!”
“Oh, are those . . .” Becky reached for the box, “Are those cookies?”
Leo’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head. How could the O’Rourkes pretend to compete with Amor y Azúcar’s selection of pan dulce when they didn’t even recognize the names?
“There’s also flan!” Brent said, “In case you’re gluten intolerant. Are you gluten intolerant? My sister gets terrible diarrhea whenever she eats anything made with wheat, plus she would eventually get cancer or something.”
Becky glanced at Caroline, who threw up her hands with another apologetic shrug.
“Right,” Becky said. “We tried eating gluten free a few years ago—it was one of my mom’s phases. But we didn’t notice any difference. Um, I hope your sister is okay. Thanks for all this.”
There was a stretched silence. Becky put her hand on the doorknob.
“I have type one diabetes!” JP half shouted.
Leo was learning that her cousin, like Brent, did not have the makings of a great spy, or even a good accomplice.
“It’s a common misconception that you get diabetes from eating sugar,” JP continued. “It’s actually autoimmune, like celiac disease.”
“And asthma.” Brent nodded solemnly. “Your body thinks it’s fighting bad germs, but really it’s just attacking itself.”
Leo marched between the babbling boys and poked a finger straight into each of their shoulders. Stop talking.
“Well . . . ,” Becky said. “That’s . . . interesting. Nice to meet all of you.” Whining and scratching noises were coming from the other side of the front door. “I’d better get back to Bumble.”
“Can I use your bathroom?” Caroline said, breathless and frantic. “Sorry, I, uh, really have to go.”
Leo could have kissed her quick-thinking friend.
“I thought you lived here?” Becky asked, gesturing down the block.
“No, yeah, I do. I just . . . well, I live a couple streets down actually, and across Pine Lane. But . . . my toilet is broken.”
Becky looked at Caroline. Caroline looked back at Becky. Leo wondered if she could get into the house by smashing one of the big picture windows.
“It’s been a long day,” Caroline said, her tiny smile putting a matching smile on Becky’s lips. “I’ve been stuck babysitting these ones for a couple days now.”
JP and Brent started to protest, but Leo pinched them.
“Yeah, makes sense.” Becky giggled. “Come on in. Do all of you go to the middle school here?”
She turned the doorknob, caught Bumble’s collar, and pulled the dog inside, leaving the door open for the rest of them.
Adding an extra pinch of invisibility powder to her tongue just to be safe, Leo slipped in behind her.
CHAPTER 16
SNEAKY SPY STUFF
“I’m going to be starting in seventh grade next year,” Becky explained as the others entered the house. “But since we moved so late in the year my old school is letting me take all my final exams online. Bathroom’s over there.” She pointed Caroline to a door just inside the front hallway. With the front door closed, she released her grip on Bumble, who ran in a circle sniffing and jumping on the guests.
“Thanks,” Caroline said. “That’s cool that you get kind of a long vacation, huh?”
“I guess.” Becky brushed hair out of her face. “I just did it because it stinks to have to start new classes in the middle of the year. On top of moving.”
Caroline nodded. “I’ve, uh, done that. But hey, starting next year you’ll be in class with me and Brent, so that will be good.”
Leo made a face. Becky O’Rourke wouldn’t be in her class if she could help it. If things went according to plan, she would send the O’Rourkes running back to their California beaches faster than they could say “concha.” Becky didn’t even want to be in Rose Hill anyway. Really, Leo was doing her a favor.
JP chimed in with his story about moving schools, told at an appropriate volume and with no mention of diarrhea, so maybe he was warming up to the mission. Leo left the group to sneak down the hall. The entryway of the house already looked beautifully decorated, with a fancy rug and metal flowers positioned next to a bright red painting on the wall. To the left, a chandelier hung over an empty room with a fireplace. To the right, a flight of stairs curved upward, dark wooden steps gleaming. And straight ahead, Leo caught a glimpse through a doorway of stainless steel and tile.
In the Logroño house, the kitchen was the best place to find what you were looking for, whether it was important papers, a missing sister, or a delicious breakfast. Leo strode down the hall, ready to investigate.
A low growl stopped her in her tracks. She turned to see Bumble with her tail down and lip curled, standing about two feet behind her and sniffing the air between growls. Becky, Caroline, JP, and Brent all followed the dog’s gaze. Leo clenched her fists, hoping her invisibility powder was holding up.
“Sorry, she’s weird about the new house sometimes,” Becky said. “Hey, didn’t you need the bathroom?”
“Oh, yeah, of course!” Caroline laughed. “Um, but finish your story first.”
Leo backed slowly away from Bumble—she was pretty sure the dog couldn’t see her, but she wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t attack by smell alone—and ducked into the kitchen. It was a disappointing jumble of cardboard boxes and dirty dishes. Leo peeked into the half-unpacked boxes, moving slowly because she wasn’t totally sure what would happen if she picked up an object and held it. Would it disappear too, or would it look like it was floating? Deciding it was better safe than sorry, Leo left things where they were, but checked each box carefully without removing its contents.
She found fancy pots and pans and spatulas without the scratches and stains that would hint at a family of bakers, and no stolen mixing bowl. She opened each of the kitchen’s many cabinets as well, but they were empty. The only things on the shiny black stone counter were a fancy teapot and an electric kettle, surrounded by three squeeze bottles of honey with different shapes and labels.
“Becky?” A voice echoed from somewhere above them. “Is someone there?”
“Yeah, Mom, it’s some neighbors.”
Leo peeked into the hallway and followed Becky’s eyes up to a second-floor balcony overlooking the entryway. Belinda O’Rourke leaned over the railing with a smartphone pressed to her ear and a matching tablet cradled in her arm. Unlike her picture in the Rose Hill Chronicle, she wasn’t perfectly made up or dressed in a jacket that made her look like a TV lawyer. Instead, her dark brown curls spilled out of a bun on the top of her head to frame a face as freckled as Becky’s.
“Hello there.” She pulled the phone away from her mouth as she spoke, waving it at Brent and JP. “So you boys live nearby? Don’t tell me I’m going to have to chase you away from my beautiful daughter!” She laughed, then tapped her tablet violently.
“Mom,” Becky groaned.
“Well, I imagine these guys must have caught sight of you—otherwise they wouldn’t have thought to welcome you to the neighborhood, am I right?”
JP scratched his earlobe and fiddled with his fanny-pack zipper. Brent mumbled something unintelligible.
“Mom, cut it out,” Becky sighed.
Caroline emerged from the bathroom. “Oh, hello.” She looked up. “You must be Mrs. O’Rourke. Pleased to meet you. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Oh, so this young lady came up with the welcoming idea.” Mrs. O’Rourke smiled down at Caroline. “Isn’t that sweet? That makes more sense.”
Caroline’s eyes darted to Becky, who just shrugged. Brent looked at JP, eyebrows raised.
“Well, thank you so much for thinking of us,” Mrs. O’Rourke continued, reminding Leo of Abuelo Logroño with the way she didn’t notice or care how her words were received.
“No problem,” Caroline said.
“I have a lot of work to get done, but please stay awhile—we have drinks in the kitchen. I want Becky to have friends and fit in here.” Mrs. O’Rourke tapped her tablet again, brought her phone back to her ear, and wandered away from the balcony edge and out of sight.
“I had friends in California,” Becky muttered.
“Your mom seems . . . really busy,” Caroline said. “Does she work from home?”
Leo smiled. Caroline really was the best accomplice, asking questions to get Becky talking about her mom.
“Yeah, for now,” Becky said. “She’s starting a business. A café. She’s always in her office.”
Leo glanced back at the balcony. The office must be up there.
“Oh, I think I’ve seen that sign,” Caroline said. “What was it called?”
Leo backed up as Becky led Caroline, Brent, and JP into the kitchen, then ducked out before the door could swing shut. She made a beeline for the stairs, remembering to take another pinch of invisibility powder before climbing the first step.
Upstairs wasn’t as neatly decorated as the entryway. More cardboard boxes covered a couch and table in the landing. In the first room Leo peeked into, the carpet still had the indentations of old furniture, and it smelled like fresh paint. It was empty except for a box full of beige sheets and towels, and not a mixing bowl to be seen.
Taped to the door of the next room was a poster collage of pictures of Becky with kids who must’ve been her California friends. In the spaces between the photos, rainbow letters spelled out MISS YOU ALREADY!
Leo frowned, guilt freezing her hand on Becky’s bedroom
doorknob.
She should check the office first. It was a more likely place to hide heirlooms stolen from a rival business. She crept across the landing, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms for reassurance that she was still invisible. A floorboard creaked as she stepped on it, and she froze as Bumble’s growling started again.
“Shh, hey girl, settle down.”
The click of Bumble’s claws traveled up the stairs, and Leo held still as the dog bounded onto the landing with her teeth showing. Cats are better, Leo thought spitefully as Bumble surveyed the room, sniffing the air and growling.
“I’m sorry.” Becky’s voice carried from downstairs. “She’s been so weird since we moved here, always barking at nothing.”
When Bumble didn’t find anything, she trotted to a cracked door and nosed it open. Leo caught a glimpse of Belinda O’Rourke’s knee in a fancy leather desk chair.
Before she could lose courage or the door could swing shut, Leo followed the dog straight into the office.
“What are you bothering me for?” Mrs. O’Rourke asked Bumble, who was pawing at her leg and whining. She pushed the dog down gently and looked up, sending a lightning bolt of panic through Leo’s heart as her eyes seemed to fall right where she stood. But she looked away just as quickly.
“Work, work, work,” she said in goofy low-pitched baby talk. “All you do now is work all the time. You never play with me.”
Mrs. O’Rourke was pretending to be Bumble and talking to herself. Dog people were so weird.
“I know, girl,” Mrs. O’Rourke answered in her normal voice. “I’m sorry. But this business is important. It’s important for us to be here for Becky. It has nothing to do with him, I promise. Now, go downstairs, girl. I bet Becky will give you a treat.”
Bumble’s ears perked up at the last word, but she stopped in the doorway, sniffing the space around Leo’s shoes and whining. Leo took tiny sidesteps until she wasn’t blocking the way, and Bumble eventually slipped out the door.
Leo scanned the office inch by inch, trying to pick out possible hiding spots. Mrs. O’Rourke was a weirdo dog owner, and she had basically confessed right in front of Leo. “It has nothing to do with him,” Mrs. O’Rourke had said, which meant that it absolutely had everything to do with him, and Leo had no doubts that “him” meant Abuelo Logroño. She had her proof. Now she just needed to find the mixing bowl.