“I have an idea,” Madison said, smiling. “The school has files on all students in the principal’s office. Ann’s file should be there.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I have to skip class and you have to cover for me.”
“What?”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Madison said. “Jessi helps out in the principal’s office this period, and the principal’s office is where the school keeps our files.”
“Why do you have to go this period?” Jake asked.
“It’s the only time Jessi is there.”
Just then the bell rang and Mr. Swanson stepped into the hall. Madison ducked out of sight but there was no escape for Jake, so he went into the classroom. Mr. Swanson called the roll and stopped when Madison didn’t answer.
“Does anyone know what happened to Miss Kincaid?” he asked.
“Mr. Swanson?” Jake said, raising his hand. “I think she went to the nurse. She said she was sick and might throw up.”
Several boys snickered, but Mr. Swanson ignored them. He did not want to clean vomit off his floor or smell it, so he made a note on the roll and completed his task.
Meanwhile, Madison was inside the principal’s office trying to get Jessi’s attention.
“What are you doing here?” Jessi asked as she came out to meet Madison. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Jessi, I need your help,” Madison said, ignoring Jessi’s question. “Do you have access to student files?”
“Um, sort of, I know where they are, but I never go into the cabinet. Why?”
“I need you to get Ann’s file.”
“No way! First of all I’ll get in huge trouble. Second of all, why do you need it?”
“Ann’s been gone for over a week. No calls, no emails. I went to her house and it looked abandoned. And you saw how her mom acted at the mall. Seriously, Jessi. Please help. I just want to look at her file to see if it has any clues to why she’s not at The Grove.”
Jessi stared down at the floor. Madison let her think. When she looked up, she didn’t seem happy.
“Go back to class before we all get in trouble,” Jessi said. “Then meet me back here after the period is over. If I have a chance to get the file, I will.”
Madison slipped back into her seat in science class. Waiting for class to end was excruciatingly painful. Finally the bell rang and Madison and Jake ran upstairs to meet Jessi.
“Did you get it?” Madison asked, unable to contain herself.
Jessi handed Madison a photocopied sheet of paper.
“What’s this?” Madison asked.
“That’s it,” Jessi said.
“This is everything in Ann’s file?” Madison asked incredulously.
Jessi nodded.
Madison and Jake looked at the piece of paper. It showed that Ann was registered to attend but hadn’t shown up.
“I looked at my file, just for comparison,” Jessi said. “I have tons of papers in mine. Schedules, doctor’s notes for PE, stuff like that. But Ann just has that one sheet.”
“Wow,” said Jake. “This is stranger than we thought.”
Madison had to rush to get ready for soccer, and after quickly throwing on her shirt, shorts, shinguards, socks, and cleats, she zipped out to the practice field. She was surprised to find both the boys’ and girls’ teams sitting together on the bleachers and the two coaches facing them.
“Hey,” she said as she took a seat on Jake’s left. “What’s going on?”
“I have no idea,” Jake replied. “I got out here a minute ago myself.”
Jake turned to the kid sitting on his right, Kevin, a seventh grader who was on the boys’ team and had gone to elementary school with Madison.
“Do you know what’s up?”
Kevin shook his head no.
“Okay, everyone,” Coach Davis said, bringing the meeting to order. “I don’t think I have to remind you we are two of the best junior high soccer teams in the state, but traveling and playing other teams of our caliber costs money. The school board and principal prefer to spend money on new schoolbooks. This year they’re buying new math books, even though math hasn’t changed in the past thousand years and the old books would do just fine.” Coach Davis gave a frustrated sigh. “So, the math teachers get their new books and our athletes have to sell candy bars.”
Coach Davis pointed to a stack of boxes. “They’re a dollar a bar. Sell as many as you can. Hit up your parents’ friends, the people they work with, your neighbors, everyone you know. The more bars we sell the more teams we can play, and the better we’ll be. Last year Marci sold one hundred bars. It’s not surprising the best player is also the most dedicated to all aspects of the team.”
Madison couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.
“Okay,” Coach Chin, the boys’ coach, said, “let’s get out there and practice, and remember to pick up your boxes of bars on your way home tonight.”
“I wish Ann were here,” Madison told Jake as they walked to their practice fields. Somehow it seemed natural for Jake to walk by her side. “She’d be awesome at selling candy bars. She wouldn’t let anyone say no. But between finding her, trying to solve the Shelby case for my dad, and homework, I feel like I don’t have enough time to add door-to-door salesman to my résumé.”
“Yeah, this sucks. But every team I’ve been on had to sell something. At least chocolate bars are better than wrapping paper.”
Suddenly, Madison stopped walking and a smile spread across her face. “What?” Jake asked.
“I just had a great idea. We can sell candy bars and solve the Shelby case.”
“Huh?”
“My father says that a good investigator or attorney should never rely on photographs of the crime scene or police reports and should always go to the scene of the crime.”
“The scene of the crime doesn’t seem so safe, especially in a murder investigation. Why would you go there?” Jake asked, looking nervous.
“So you can see what a place really looks like. My dad had a case where a person inside a house positively identified his client as the person who had burglarized her house. In the police report, the officer wrote that the witness was certain she’d seen his client standing in the door of the home. Dad went to the house at night. There was a bright light attached to the outside of the door that threw shadows across the face of anyone standing in the doorway where the witness said she’d seen his client. He brought the jury to the house and proved that it was impossible for the witness to have seen what she said she saw. Guess the verdict?”
“Not guilty?”
“Exactly.”
“And you’re telling me this because?” Jake asked, confused.
“We have Thelma Bauer’s address,” Madison said.
“You’re not suggesting . . . ?”
A smile spread across Madison’s face. “Do you want to go sell chocolate bars this weekend with me? There’s a great neighborhood I’ve never been to, where a witness to a murder lives.”
Jake was shaking his head incredulously, but he grinned. “I’ll come, but I’m going to spend all night practicing karate.”
Chapter 12
Madison Visits a Murder Suspect
Madison hopped out of bed Saturday morning buzzing with energy. Jake’s mom was going to pick her up at ten and drive Madison and Jake to Mark Shelby’s neighborhood, which was on the east side of the city, across the river from downtown. The Stephensons were new to Portland and wouldn’t know one neighborhood from another, so Madison had told Jake to tell his mom that the Shelbys’ neighborhood was a great place to hawk candy bars.
Madison found herself feeling nervous about meeting Mrs. Stephenson. She wasn’t sure if Jake was her boyfriend or just a fellow detective, but she wanted to make a good impression in either case. Madison rushed through breakfast, took a shower, then spent a long time choosing an outfit. She thought about wearing all black—after all, she was on a spy mission—but quickly real
ized that she would look rather silly walking around in black in the middle of the day. She looked quickly through her closet. Hmm . . . fundraising for her school. She grabbed her new jeans and a Pettygrove Junior High Soccer T-shirt. No one would question her methods when she was wearing a shirt advertising the team for which she was fundraising.
When Madison was certain she looked just right, she glanced over at her mom’s photo for approval, imagining her mom giving her the thumbs-up. Then she went downstairs to wait.
Hamilton had left for his office while she was eating, so she had the house to herself. It was only nine thirty. She had a half hour to figure out how to interrogate Thelma Bauer. She was lost in thought when a car horn startled her. Her candy bars were in the refrigerator. Grabbing them, she ran to the Stephensons’ Volvo.
Jake’s mother smiled at Madison and told her to hop in the backseat. She had a nice smile that went well with her bright blue eyes and reddish-blond hair. Jake, who was sitting up front, had stacked his candy boxes on the passenger side, so Madison put her boxes next to his and sat behind Jake’s mom.
“Thanks for driving us, Mrs. Stephenson,” Madison said.
“You’re welcome. But I’m used to playing chauffeur. Jake’s teams in Atlanta always had to have fund-raisers to pay for one thing or another.”
Jake was quiet during the drive to Mark Shelby’s neighborhood. Madison chalked his silence up to the fact that he was with one of his parents. Madison was usually quiet around her dad if she was with her friends. Who wanted parents knowing what you were up to?
Madison had looked at a map of the neighborhood on her computer. She told Mrs. Stephenson to drop them a few blocks from Thelma Bauer’s house, and they agreed that Jake would call when they wanted to be picked up. As soon as Mrs. Stephenson was out of sight, Madison and Jake went to opposite sides of the block with plans to meet a few houses down at Miss Bauer’s. They started knocking on doors. If Miss Bauer looked out of her window, she would see two neatly dressed junior high students selling candy.
By the time Madison and Jake approached Thelma Bauer’s door, they had sold a whole box of chocolate between them, so their day looked like it would be successful even if they didn’t solve the Shelby case.
“Let me question Miss Bauer,” Madison said as they walked up the neatly laid out slate path that led to Thelma Bauer’s front door.
“That’s fine by me,” Jake agreed. “You’ve probably seen your dad do enough cross-examinations and read enough lawyer novels to know how to question a witness.”
Trying to look confident, she rang Miss Bauer’s doorbell. She cleared her throat when she heard footsteps approaching and fixed a smile on her face.
“Good morning,” she said when the door opened. “My name is Madison and this is Jake. We’re in the seventh grade at Pettygrove Junior High and we’re selling chocolate bars to help our soccer teams. Would you like to buy some?”
Thelma Bauer perked up. “I love chocolate. How much are your bars?”
“Just a dollar, and it goes to a great cause,” Madison said.
“I’ll take three bars. Let me get my purse.”
Thelma left for a minute and returned with a big red handbag. While Thelma went through her wallet, Madison faked confusion.
“This house looks familiar,” she said, peering around. “Has it been on TV?”
Thelma brightened. “It certainly has.” Then she lowered her voice. “There was a murder next door and I was interviewed about it by two TV stations.”
“I thought so! This is very exciting. I’ve never met anyone who’s been on television before.”
Thelma looked embarrassed. “It was only for a minute.”
“Were you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Why did they want to interview you?”
“I’m the one who called the police!”
“You did!” Madison exclaimed. “Then you’re a hero. What happened?”
“Come in and I’ll tell you all about it! Would you like some iced tea and cake?”
“Thank you. That sounds lovely. We’ve been walking in the hot sun all morning and we’re both hungry.”
“Then sit down and I’ll be right back.”
“Great work,” Jake whispered as soon as they heard dishes rattling around in the kitchen and the refrigerator door open and close. A few minutes later Miss Bauer reappeared, carrying a tray with two pieces of cake and two glasses of iced tea.
“Thanks for the snack,” Madison said. “Can you tell us about the murder?”
“I certainly can.”
Thelma could barely contain her excitement as she told the story Jake and Madison had heard in the courtroom. While she was talking, Madison took a bite of her cake. She stopped in mid-chew. She was hungry, but not hungry enough to eat this cake. It was awful. She washed down her bite with a swig of iced tea and put down her fork.
“Were you frightened?” Madison asked when Thelma finished. “I would have been scared to death.”
“I was, just a little. But I knew I had to do my civic duty. No matter how frightened I was, I couldn’t let Mark Shelby get away with murder.”
“You’re very brave,” Madison said, egging her on.
Thelma blushed. “Anyone would have done what I did.”
“Is that the window you looked out?” Madison asked, pointing at a window in the wall facing Mark Shelby’s house.
“It is.”
Madison looked around the room. “I don’t see a phone. How did you call the police? Do you have a cell?” she asked.
“I don’t like those things. No, I called from the kitchen.”
“This is so exciting. I feel like I’m there on that morning. Could you show us where you made the call?”
Thelma led them out of the living room and into the kitchen, where an old-fashioned phone with a cord was attached to the wall. Madison went over to the phone and looked back toward the living room. A wall blocked her view of the window.
Madison glanced at her watch. “Oh, no. We have to go.”
Thelma looked disappointed to be losing her audience. “But you haven’t finished your cake.”
“It was delicious, but if we don’t go now we won’t sell our quota of chocolate bars.”
“Thank you so much,” Jake chimed in. “It was an honor to meet a real hero.”
“And thanks for buying the chocolate!” Madison said as they walked out.
As soon as they were on the sidewalk and Miss Bauer’s door was shut, Jake spit cake into his hand.
“Thanks for getting us out of there without having to finish that awful cake,” he said.
“Did you see what I saw?” Madison asked.
Jake frowned, puzzled, and shook his head.
“The phone,” Madison said. “It’s in the kitchen. Miss Bauer wouldn’t be able to see the Shelbys’ house when she was making the call to the police.”
“You’re right,” Jake said. He pulled a small sketch pad out of his backpack and started to draw Miss Bauer’s kitchen with the phone and the wall.
He grinned. “When I write my graphic novel starring Madison Kincaid, superhero, this will be the first case you solve.”
Madison looked down at Jake’s drawing so he wouldn’t see her blush. “This proves it. Miss Bauer couldn’t see the house while she was on the phone. Anything could have happened while she was calling 911.”
Turning toward Mark Shelby’s house, she studied it for a minute, then started up the slate path to the front door.
“What are you doing?” Jake asked nervously. “Do you have a death wish?”
“There’s something I need to see.”
“Madison, he’s out on bail, he could be home.”
“I hope so.”
“He might be a murderer!”
“There are two of us and it’s broad daylight. I don’t think he’ll do anything and I really have to see this. Remember what my dad says about going to the scene of the crime? We would never have le
arned that you can’t see Mr. Shelby’s house from Thelma Bauer’s kitchen if we hadn’t gone into her house. Besides, he might buy some chocolate bars.”
Before Jake could protest any more, Madison rang the doorbell. A few seconds later they saw movement behind the glass panels that flanked the door. Madison had a feeling that they were being studied through the peephole. She waited patiently, and a moment later Mark Shelby opened the door. He looked exhausted and pale.
“What do you want?” he asked impatiently.
“Hi, we’re selling chocolate bars to support the Pettygrove Junior High soccer teams, and we wanted to know if you’d like to buy any. They’re just a dollar a bar and it’s for a good cause.”
Shelby smiled a tired smile. “I could use something good like chocolate to cheer me up.” He felt in his pocket. “Let me get my wallet.”
As he turned to go, Madison piped up, “Could I use your bathroom?”
Jake looked shocked. How could Madison go into a suspected murderer’s house?
“Sure,” Shelby said, pointing. “It’s down the hall.”
Madison knew the layout of the house from the pictures she’d seen in her father’s file. When Shelby was out of sight, she walked into the living room. The photograph she was looking for was still where she’d seen it in the crime-scene photo, on the fireplace mantel mixed in with family pictures. It was odd seeing a picture of one of her teachers in someone’s house. Madison thought of her teachers as never leaving school, not having lives, houses, and husbands, or going missing and maybe being murdered. She fixed the picture in her mind before hurrying into the bathroom.
Madison waited an appropriate amount of time before flushing. When she got near the front door, she heard Jake say, “Thank you, Mr. Shelby.”
Madison froze. Shelby hadn’t introduced himself. If he realized they shouldn’t know his name, they were cooked. She had to think of something fast.
“How did you know my name?” Shelby asked just as Madison walked into the entryway.
“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” she said.
Shelby looked back and forth between Madison and Jake, and he didn’t seem happy.
“He knew my name, but I never introduced myself. Are you two reporters for a school paper?” he asked angrily.
Vanishing Acts Page 7
