Super Max and the Mystery of Thornwood's Revenge

by Susan Vaught

  “Hey, Max,” he said when saw me. “Hey, Lavender, and Lavender’s people.” He paused at Mom. “And Max’s people, too. Sorry I wasn’t out here. Ellis’s Internet setup is screwing up half the shop. Some sort of raw signal keeps shutting everything down. I was restarting the server to see if that would help.”

  Server . . .

  Raw signal . . .

  What’s with your chair, Max? I thought that only happened at Thornwood. . . .

  “Where’s Bot?” Lavender asked, but I barely heard her. I unlocked my new phone and dove into the synced photo stream, swiping back to the pictures I took on my iPad during our first foray into Thornwood Manor.

  There.

  Right there it was.

  I had been staring at it for days.

  The picture of the fancy brass grate in the floor in the entryway, the one with wires peeking out of the corners. Wires, like somebody would use to pirate electricity from house lines, or boost a WiFi signal. Wow. I should have known what those wires were the second I saw them. I should have realized the hacker might be broadcasting right out of Thornwood Manor itself.

  And . . . my brain kept throwing pieces into place—easy access to photograph and post the antiques on eBay. And the footprints in the dust . . . getting the best vantage point on our house, probably setting up a GoPro or some other small camera to keep an eye on Toppy and me, to make the cyberharassment that much easier. The hacker could record and even monitor from a distance, and always know when somebody was home.

  “I really don’t know where Bot is,” Riley said to Lavender. “He and Ellis—they sort of had words over the Internet dysfunction in the shop, and over Ellis’s attitude lately. Bot said he thought Ellis was headed down the wrong path. Ellis blew out of here pissed, and Bot went after him.”

  Captain Coker pulled a small notepad and pen from her pocket. “Do you know where Ellis lives? His address?”

  “Sure—” Riley started, but I cut him off.

  “They aren’t at Ellis’s house,” I said. “They’re at Thornwood Manor.”

  22

  When I showed Riley the pictures of the wires, all the color left his face.

  “Yeah,” he confirmed. “The split on the left, that’s Ellis’s favorite way of amping a WiFi signal when we’ve got line-of-sight issues or poor coverage zones. He learned it from Bot, but he got lazy in the set-up, and he’s been using unshielded wires. I think that’s what’s causing the shop’s EMI problem, and so does Bot.”

  Everyone had huddled around my phone, with Captain Coker and Riley closest. The trooper gazed steadily at both of us. She pointed to the little wires coming out of the grate at Thornwood. “But why are they coming out of the grate?”

  “No idea,” Riley said.

  “Thornwood’s power and heat are on to protect the pipes—I think he’s pirating electricity from the house wiring,” I said. “Maybe running it somewhere else in the house, somewhere that didn’t start off having power. When we went to Thornwood the first time, we could smell lemon-scented cleanser, but the place was still dusty except for a few places. I think the hacker cleaned up a hidden space for himself and his server.”

  Mom and Ms. Springfield and Captain Coker and Riley looked at me.

  “You know how to pirate electricity?” Mom asked.

  I held up both hands. “Hey, I learned my lesson with the fuse box mess. But maybe the hacker’s running wires through the ducts, and also boosting signal off any nearby network.”

  “Who is the hacker?” Mom asked. “Is it Bot or Ellis?”

  “Not sure,” Lavender said. “We thought Bot.”

  Ellis. Wow. I had not seen that possibility coming. But, no. Ellis had been working to help us catch the hacker.

  “No way,” Riley said. “Just, no. Bot would never do any of the stuff the hacker’s been pulling off.”

  “Does Bot have any personal interests in the buildings that got vandalized?” Captain Coker asked.

  Riley opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. I didn’t think it was possible, but he got even more pale.

  “What are you thinking, young man?” Captain Coker asked him in that voice I figured got just about anybody to confess.

  “He—ah.” Riley dug his fingers through his long hair, his eyes drawing down to a squint. “The abandoned warehouse. Bot bought it last month for us to use as a second storage location. We didn’t have anything in it yet, though.”

  Relief edged through me. See? Bot. Not Ellis.

  Why was that better?

  I rubbed my temples.

  Maybe it wasn’t either of them. That would be the absolute best.

  “Was that building insured?” Junior asked, and when everyone looked at him, he held up both hands defensively, just like I had done. “Hey, I’m auctioning my lot up North, not setting it on fire for a payout.”

  “Bot would never do anything like that,” Riley said. “He got in trouble once a long time ago for computer hacking and fraud. He told me about it, said he was angry and confused when he was younger, and he never wanted to live like that again.”

  “Didn’t he just lose a contract with the schools?” I studied Riley. “He said so the other day. He seemed pretty irritated with both the middle school and high school, and they both had fires started for damage at different times.”

  Lavender pointed at the candy-strewn counters. “And all those packages that came in, the ones Bot had to send back because he got outbid by a big box store in Nashville, he lost a bunch of money on restocking fees. Those drained bank accounts—that’s good timing for somebody who needs cash quick.”

  “Bot didn’t steal any money or set fires in trash cans,” Riley insisted. “He was sad about that contract, sure. But he got over it and made the big Christmas sale even bigger to recoup some of the losses.”

  “What about the nursing home?” Captain Coker asked. “Did he have any issues with that facility? Any family go through there?”

  Riley threw his head back. “Uhhggg, I don’t know!” He sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly. “Look, Bot might have had family members there in the past, but most everybody in Blue Creek has had people in that place. The nearest other nursing home is what, fifty miles from here? And before you ask, the car lot—zero connection to it. Bot buys his cars in Nashville, and he’s never tried to sell the car lot people anything. So you can stop stretching the facts to make them fit Bot, okay? He’s a great guy.”

  I shut up then because I heard the hurt in Riley’s voice, and I understood it. Bot was all Riley had. Bot was Riley’s Toppy.

  “Okay,” I said, but I felt sort of sick.

  “Tell you what.” Captain Coker walked toward the shop door. “I want you to close up shop here, Riley, and come with us back to City Hall. I’m going to leave the bunch of you with the officers there and head over to Thornwood to check on Mr. Botman and Ellis. I’ll take Ellis’s address, too, and Mr. Botman’s, in case Max is wrong about where they are.”

  I wasn’t wrong. I knew I wasn’t.

  Lavender seemed to know, too, but she got to fit-throwing faster than me. “We want to go with you, Captain Coker,” she said.

  The chorus of “NO” from every adult in the room almost popped my eardrums.

  • • •

  In under half an hour, Riley had locked up the electronics store, Captain Coker had dropped us off at City Hall and taken her leave, and we were back at the door of the chamber gallery, rubbing our hands to warm up our fingers.

  Unbelievably, Toppy’s meeting or trial or hearing or whatever it really was—it was still going on, with aldermen and business people and Mayor Chandler talking loudly to one another about what the town did or didn’t need.

  And my butt was slowly going numb. Great.

  “It’s getting late,” Mom said, watching me shift my weight over and over. “About time for you to get out of that chair and lie down for a while, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t want to leave Toppy here alone,” I said.r />
  Mom gave a quiet laugh. “Does it look like he needs us?”

  Honestly, it didn’t. Toppy didn’t seem slumped or upset anymore. He radiated cranky and in-charge. “Guess not,” I said. “You know, I almost feel sorry for the City Council.”

  “This could go on for hours yet,” Ms. Springfield said. “And they may not make any decisions at all. Junior and I can stay. We’ll hang out here with Riley and wait for Captain Coker. Callinda, you take the girls on to your house and I’ll bring Toppy home and pick up Lavender when everything’s finished.”

  I started to protest again, but Lavender said, “Sounds good to me.”

  Her tone seemed entirely too sweet and light. When I raised my eyebrows at her, she raised hers right back at me. Then she stage-yawned and stretched.

  Oh. Right.

  Going home was as close as we’d get to Thornwood Manor.

  I yawned, too. “Okay. But text if they actually do vote on something to do with Toppy.”

  Riley gave me the thumbs-up. He didn’t meet my eyes, though, and I wondered if he was still mad at me over making Bot a big suspect. Probably. I’d be mad at me, if I were him.

  It took Mom a few minutes to let the troopers know we were leaving and to bring the van around, and the whole time, I thought about Riley and his faith in Bot. And I thought about how I believed in Toppy.

  Was I being thick-headed like Riley? Was it really time for Toppy to retire because he couldn’t keep up with a cybercriminal? As I left City Hall behind and rolled up the van ramp, as I fastened my chair to the tie-downs, as we pulled away from Town Square in the billowing snow with a state trooper car behind us, I refused to believe that, just like Riley refused to believe Bot would do anything illegal.

  Mom and Lavender chatted in the front seat, and I tried to listen, but my thoughts looped to Toppy, then to Bot and Riley, and finally to Ellis.

  Ellis, with the awesome computer skills who knew Toppy and me very well.

  I clicked my chair off and on, off and on. Off, then on.

  Ellis, who had been helping us catch the hacker, but hadn’t really actually found anything but dead ends. I flicked my joystick and my chair spurted against the tie-downs with a clank-click.

  Ellis, who went to the Middle School and High School. Flick-clank-click.

  Ellis, who had tried to get a job all over town when his aunt died—maybe he had tried that car lot and held a grudge?

  Flick-clank-click.

  Ellis, whose aunt died at Blue Creek Nursing Home.

  I squeezed the joystick hard.

  The power on Town Square—maybe his lazy wiring had shorted things out, or maybe he’d done that on purpose to keep Bot and Riley busy, or give himself an excuse to disappear and vandalize a bunch of places.

  But why would Ellis target Bot’s storage building? And even more than that, what did Ellis have against Toppy? Against me?

  Mom turned the van onto our road.

  Instantly, Lavender and I both strained to look out the windows at Thornwood Manor. The blowing snow wasn’t sticking to the presalted roads yet, but it made everything so hard to see.

  “I think those are police lights,” Lavender said, and sure enough, I could make out blinking blue on the hill above my house.

  “Drive by, Mom,” I urged. “See if Captain Coker’s okay?”

  “No,” Mom said. “She’s got a radio and a weapon and years of training. She can take care of herself.” Then, more gently, “It really is a police matter, Max.”

  When Lavender and I didn’t answer, Mom said, “Well, I see I’ll need to lock you two in Max’s bedroom tonight. You know, for safety. And to make sure you don’t get any ideas about heading up to Thornwood.”

  Lavender stiffened in the front seat, but I said, “My door doesn’t have a lock on the outside.”

  “Then I’ll drop a sleeping bag on the floor in front of it,” Mom said lightly. “Good place to have my evening chai and do some poses.”

  Oh, wonderful.

  I ground my teeth.

  Mom pulled into the driveway. As she was parking the van, my phone buzzed with the text tone, and I pulled it out to see a message from Riley.

  Council just voted to fire Toppy. Mayor overruled. They’re challenging whether she can do that or not.

  My fingers and toes and heart and brain went totally numb.

  I stared at the words once, then twice, then stuffed the phone in my arm pouch and shivered. The heat and the headache hit me like a wild spring storm.

  They did it. Those buttheads seriously just voted to fire my grandfather. To put him out to pasture like some old goat.

  Red danced at the edges of my vision.

  I wanted to hit stuff. Break stuff. I wanted to scream.

  From somewhere in the far regions of my brain, I noticed Mom lowering the van ramp into the garage like nothing was any big deal at all.

  Tomorrow, I’d have to go to California with her even though she didn’t really want me and I didn’t really want her, and Toppy wouldn’t have a job, and the hacker would still be after him.

  My jaws ached, and I heard the grind as I nearly chewed through my own teeth.

  The trooper who had followed us home parked his car on the curb, got out, and got the key from Mom to go in the house ahead of us, to check everything out before we went inside.

  “You don’t have to block us in,” Lavender said to Mom. “Really. We’ll be fine.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mom said. “You coming out, Max?”

  The Council. Toppy. Hacker. California. Blocked in. Helpless.

  I gripped my joystick as I rolled down the van ramp and started to turn away from the open garage door.

  My eyes flicked to my arms.

  Strong.

  Strong.

  No.

  I was helpless.

  Red turned to crimson at the edges of my vision. My skin blazed so hot I barely felt winter on my cheeks. Why couldn’t I have superpowers? Why? I hated not being really strong and able to do something—anything, anything! to fix this horrible mess.

  Mom hit the button on the wall to lower the garage door.

  Helpless, my numb, aching butt.

  “Love me for who I am, Mom,” I muttered.

  Then I slammed my joystick forward, flipped my turbo switch, and shot out underneath the descending garage door, careening into night and the white, blowing snow.

  23

  The garage door slammed behind me.

  Way behind me.

  I was moving so fast.

  Wind and snow made my eyes water and froze my nose and my fingers seemed to turn to ice on the joystick. Gloves would have been smart but I hated gloves. I hated the City Council. I hated the hacker. The heat inside me raged and raged, fighting the chill.

  The turn to the Thornwood hill loomed in the dull streetlight ahead, and I flicked off the turbo switch. My battery bars blinked. There were six total, and I was at three from using the chair all day. Oops. Two. And I’d need a battery-sucking gear to get up the hill.

  I pressed my gear button, setting it low for the pull, and pushed the joystick as fast as the chair would go without turbo. By now, Mom would be opening the garage door, maybe yelling for the trooper. Lavender would be plotting my death. When I got to Thornwood, I had Lavender’s key, so if I could use it fast enough, I could get inside and lock them out.

  And trap yourself in a haunted house with a hacker who might want you dead? Brilliant!

  I wasn’t seeing red anymore, but my breathing stayed fast and my jaw clenched so tight it made my head hurt right along with my crampy, numb hips. As I motored up the incline toward Thornwood, blue lights blinked, shining across my chest and face.

  My phone rang.

  I ignored it.

  My text messages dinged.

  I ignored those, too.

  As soon as I had a straight shot through the Thornwood parking lot, I hit my turbo switch again and floored it across the marked spaces, skidding a little in the snow
and swerving way too close to Captain Coker’s patrol car. I panicked and let go of the controls, and the chair jerked to a sudden stop, then slid, coming to rest near the bottom of the ramp. I flopped forward against my safety belt, and it ripped. Not all the way—but it gave enough to make me swallow hard.

  I glanced over at the patrol car. It sat running, lights flashing, doors closed, no one inside.

  From down the hill, a siren yowled.

  Oh, great. I’d be joining Bot with a felony record soon. I checked my controls. Nothing smoking or sparking. One battery bar.

  Breathing like I’d run a marathon instead of driven my chair up a hill, I turned off turbo and eased the chair up the ramp into Thornwood Manor. At the turn, the wood popped enough to make me jump, but I kept going.

  As I got onto the main porch, I could see I wouldn’t need Lavender’s key. The front door was open. A Thornwood Owl, bramble in talons, faced me. Low lighting from the entryway filtered across the Latin words.

  Pecuniate obediunt omni.

  Well, nothing tonight was obeying money, or anything that made any sense.

  The hum of Captain Coker’s engine blended with my chair motor, both nearly drowned out by the louder- louder siren coming up the hill. I eased my chair around the owls and brambles, and rolled into the entryway intending to look at the grate—

  “Oh.” I yanked my hand off the controls. The chair screech-stopped, my belt ripped a little more, and I had to grab my armrests to keep from falling forward over my knees.

  There was no grate.

  Instead, another giant hole had opened in the floor. It reached like a gaping mouth toward the open front doors, toothy boards dangling from all the edges.

  “Captain Coker?” I called.

  Oh, no. What if she came up here because of my theories about Bot and the floor collapsed and she got hurt, all because of me? I rolled forward and tried to see down in the hole, but I couldn’t, so I inched around it, heading toward the main hall.

  “Captain Coker?” I yelled again.

  No answer.

  I got to the main hall, turned my chair, and squinted down into the darkness of the hole. My cheeks stung from the snowy cold and the tears streaming out of my eyes. So dark. I couldn’t—but wait.