The Secret Files of Fairday Morrow

by Jessica Haight

  Fairday was feeling unsettled, but she determined there was nothing else she could accomplish at the moment. Heeding her mother’s advice about getting some rest, she decided to call it a night, and went back into the room to grab the clues and the sneaker. This time when she left, she made sure the door was undeniably closed. As she passed under the archway, an eerie tingle caused goose bumps to spread out over her arms, and she couldn’t shake the distinct feeling that this case was really going to put the Detective Mystery Squad to the test. Would they be ready for the challenge?

  Fairday’s eyes flew open almost an hour early on Friday morning. She was tired but couldn’t wait for Lizzy to come over after school. Plus, her mind kept replaying last night’s wild events. After reviewing the incident with the mirror and trying to figure out the sparkling sneaker, she couldn’t make sense of anything. Hopefully whoever had the other shoe wasn’t going to be coming back for the one Margo had taken.

  Fairday figured there was time to read before heading downstairs to breakfast. Last night she had stayed up late finishing The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe but couldn’t turn out the light until she knew how everything ended up in Narnia. Not being able to leave a story when the plot picked up probably accounted for the fact that she typically devoured a few books a week. Once Fairday entered the world within the pages, she was lost, and she didn’t like coming up for air until she was done.

  Not wanting to begin a new story, Fairday decided to read a little of her favorite book, since she already knew how it ended. She walked to her dresser to grab The Wizard of Oz and was puzzled to find it wasn’t there. The book had been right in front of her jewelry box last night. Noticing a folded piece of paper sitting where her prized possession had been, Fairday picked it up and read it.

  Now we each have something that belongs to the other. You’ll get back what’s yours when I get back what’s mine.

  The handwriting was fancy, but luckily she could read it. There was no signature on the front or the back. Who could have left this message? Oh my goodness, there was definitely someone in here while I was sleeping! She shivered at the thought of a stranger in her room. All of the crazy images she had seen and the sounds she had heard since moving into the Begonia House were too much.

  Fairday knew what she had to do. There was no way she could wait until tonight to share the events with Lizzy. Someone had been in her bedroom uninvited, and whoever it was had taken one of her favorite items. She needed to talk to her parents; they’d know what to do. Maybe the rumors about the house being haunted weren’t gossip at all!

  Dashing down the hallway to her parents’ room, Fairday felt uneasy. The paintings on the walls loomed above her, making her feel self-conscious. Keeping her head down, she tried to figure out exactly what to say.

  The door was ajar. Fairday was reaching out to push it open when she heard her name. Sucking in her breath, she paused, wondering if she should knock and wishing she had the extendable ears from Harry Potter. Instead she found herself leaning in to hear the conversation better, though she typically didn’t consider herself a snoop.

  Mrs. Morrow’s concerned voice came through loud and clear. “I’m really worried about Fairday, honey. I don’t know what’s going on since we moved here. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the rumors about the house being haunted. You and I know they aren’t real, but Fairday seems jumpier than usual.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry, dear,” Mr. Morrow replied in even tones. “Fairday has always had a great imagination, and I’m sure there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  “I don’t agree. It all started the first day, when she thought she heard bagpipes and there was nothing there.”

  “True, but this old house is drafty, and the wind coming in through the cracks in the walls could create all kinds of sounds she isn’t used to. Nothing to fret over.”

  “Maybe that first day, but what about last night? Fairday acted like she heard something on the stairs, and she wouldn’t tell me what it was. Pat, you should’ve seen her face; it was white and she looked like she’d seen a ghost.”

  Fairday had thought she’d hidden her reaction well, but apparently her mother’s intuition was spot on.

  “You know all the reading she does. Books can really activate the imagination. I, for one, think it’s a good thing!”

  “I think it could be more than that. Last night I heard her yelling, and I ran to the third floor. Fairday’s excuse was weak, and she was behaving very strangely,” Mrs. Morrow said. “She said she’d seen a spider, but she’s never been afraid of them, so I find it hard to believe that seeing one would cause the ruckus she created.”

  Fairday was listening silently, afraid to make a sound. Her mom thought she was losing it. Showing them the note now would be another point against her.

  “Pru, we know Fairday was apprehensive about the move. I’m sure her nerves are close to the surface with all the changes in her life. She’s fine, really. Plus, Lizzy will be visiting this weekend, and I’m sure that will take the edge off.” Mr. Morrow’s steady disposition came through. Fairday was happy to know that at least one of her parents didn’t think she was insane.

  Backing away from the door, she made her way stealthily to her room. Clutching the note in her hand, she knew the only person she would be able to share her thoughts with was Lizzy. Her best friend wouldn’t think she was mental. But was it a good idea to keep something this big to herself? What if their lives were in danger? Concentrating at school wasn’t going to be easy while she worried about an intruder traipsing around her new home.

  The daylight began to fade, painting the sky with long pinkish purple streaks of color. Fairday’s bedroom was hazy with the last dusty beams shining through the window. As she closed the door and switched on the overhead lamp, shadows shifted over the walls. Lizzy flung her overnight bag in the corner, then sat down on the bed, listening with rapt attention to Fairday’s recount of the incident involving Margo going through the mirror. Fairday left out the part about the high-heeled sneaker, intending to present that incredible item when the time was right.

  “It was just so crazy! I mean, how did Margo get into that mirror? And where on earth does it go? Anyone else would think I was mental, right?” Fairday shot off these last questions to Lizzy before she finally took a breath.

  “Well,” Lizzy said, her forehead wrinkling in thought as she tapped her chin, “if you say it happened, I believe you. I’m not sure how, but I know we’ll figure it out. I think it’s time to check out all the stuff you found. Maybe that will give us some answers, or at least point us in the right direction.” She pulled off her DMS pack and laid it in her lap. Within moments, all of her detective tools were sprawled out on the bed. There was the digital camera, the binoculars and headlamp, her brother’s multitool key chain, and something else Fairday noticed: a pair of tweezers.

  “Very useful,” Lizzy explained. “They belonged to my mom. She used them for eyebrow plucking and was going to toss them. But I rescued them from the trash. They’re great for picking up small things. I can’t believe we didn’t already have a pair. It seems so obvious. Duh, right?” Her face screwing up into a funny expression, Lizzy grasped the tweezers and pinched the air with them a few times.

  “Okay, then, let’s get on with it.” Fairday took a deep breath, agreeing with the suggestion to start the case by examining all the clues she had collected. Last night she had put them into her bag to show them to Lizzy like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Her notepad was on the floor next to her, already flipped to the correct page, and the pen was at the ready to record any ingenious thoughts that might pop into their heads. In the center of the room, Fairday stood with her DMS pack at her feet, feeling like an actress onstage preparing for opening night. Bending down, she unzipped it, thankful Lizzy was finally here. Hopefully more pieces of the puzzle would click into place.

  The first item she pulled out of the pack was the silver hairbrush, which she hand
ed to her friend. “Here’s the brush I told you about.” Fairday’s breath came out in a rush as Lizzy began turning it over, carefully observing every inch of it. She picked up the magnifying glass and began her examination. “If you look closely, you’ll see the initials,” Fairday instructed, and Lizzy quickly found them. She zoomed in and scrutinized the engraving.

  “Wow, this seems pretty old. No one has hairbrushes like this anymore. My grandma has one like it on her dressing table,” Lizzy noted. Moving the hand lens over the bristles, she picked up her tweezers and used them to pull out a dull, reddish strand of hair. “Check this out! It might not be much, but I think we should bag and label it so we can look at it later and see if it ties in to anything else we uncover.” The ziplock bags were in a box Fairday had swiped from the kitchen; detectives needed clear, clean containers to keep their clues in. She opened one, and Lizzy slipped the strand of hair into it, marking it with a Sharpie: HAIR FROM BRUSH.

  “Oh my gosh, I didn’t even see that!” Fairday exclaimed, wondering how she could have missed such a thing and doubly glad she had her partner here. “Now that you’ve uncovered the hair, wait until you see this next item.” She produced the picture frame with flourish. Fairday handed it over and went back to her notebook to scribble an additional note.

  Silver hairbrush with the initials RB engraved on the back—*red hair in bristles

  Lizzy was all business as she pulled the photo closer. “Didn’t you say there was some type of writing on the back of this picture?” she asked as she flipped the frame over and began sliding the back out.

  “Yeah, but first look at the front and tell me what you think,” Fairday said.

  Once Lizzy had the picture out of the frame, she studied it. “Hmm, the hair might be from her, right?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Fairday replied. “And look at her finger. Is it me or does it seem like she’s pointing at something?”

  Lizzy looked back at the photo, then slowly moved her own hand to mimic the image frozen in time. “Yes, definitely! But what?”

  “I’m not sure, but it might be a clue. Do you see anything else that looks important?” Fairday asked. Two heads were better than one, and who knew what else her friend would find?

  Lizzy moved the magnifying glass slowly along the front of the picture. Not finding anything more of interest, she turned it over and began examining the back, specifically along the bottom edge, noticing the faint markings written in pencil. Her eye moved closer to the lens, trying to get a better idea of what was written. “I can’t make this out, but it does say something. Let me snap a picture of it so I can put it on the computer and play around with it later,” she said, whipping the camera out of its case and zooming in on the inscription. The flash of bright light burst through the room. “Got it! Hopefully I can enhance it. Maybe we’ll get lucky and have something to work with.”

  Fairday nodded in agreement as she dug back down into her bag. Her fingers found the brass key. “Look at this!” she said. “I don’t know what in the world it opens, but it was on a dresser in the third-floor room, and it looks just like the key to the front gate of this house.”

  “It does look important and unique,” Lizzy remarked. “Have you looked around for any locks it might fit? What about the dresser you mentioned or maybe an old trunk?” Her mind raced with ideas.

  “So far I’ve been flummoxed! Of course, this house has so many items that I’m sure there are tons of possibilities I haven’t explored yet,” Fairday said. “Maybe we can make a list of places to check and work systematically until we find the correct lock?”

  “That’s a great idea. Have you found anything else?” Lizzy said with interest, handing the key back to Fairday.

  “Yes! I found this old hourglass, and the sand doesn’t move. What do you think?”

  Taking the hourglass from Fairday’s outstretched hand, Lizzy began shaking it. She then strapped the headlamp on and used the magnifying glass to look at the sparkling sand up close. “The path is clear. I have no idea why it isn’t working,” she said, handing it back to Fairday. “We’ll have to look at it again later. What else have you got?”

  “Well, this morning my Wizard of Oz book was missing, and I found this note in its place.”

  Lizzy grabbed the slip of paper and read it. “That’s totally freaky! Are you thinking it might be who you saw in the mirror?”

  “Who else could’ve left it, right? After overhearing my parents discussing my mental state, I know it wasn’t them.”

  “True. This case keeps getting trickier by the minute. Is that everything?”

  “Nope. I’ve saved the best for last! Drum roll, please,” Fairday said, her excitement heightening as she reached into her DMS pack one last time. “Wait until you see this!” She grasped the heel of the sneaker and pulled it out. It glimmered brilliantly in her hand, sparkling red with iridescent rainbows; the silky black ribbon dangled over her wrist.

  “Wow!” Lizzy said in awe, looking stunned as the sneaker shimmered in the dusty light. Fairday handed it over, and Lizzy held it cautiously. “This really is amazing!” She set the sneaker down on the bed and watched it intently, as if it were going to disappear any minute or had never been there to begin with.

  “That’s what Margo pulled out of the mirror. And I think someone was wearing it at the time. Totally freaky.” She shrugged, her expression filled with bewilderment.

  “Totally freaky is right.” Lizzy picked up the sneaker again. “I mean, who ever heard of high-heeled sneakers? I’ve never seen anything like this when I’ve been shoe shopping with my mom. And what’s with all the jewels? It has to be something magical. I can feel a weird vibration when I’m holding it.” She set it down again. “I wonder what it can do. It’s a really pretty sneaker,” she said. “Have you tried it on yet?”

  “No, not yet. I felt the vibrations, too, and I think you’re right—there’s definitely something supernatural about that sneaker. It’s so strange to think there could be someone in this house with the other shoe,” Fairday said, biting her lip.

  “Let’s do it, then. Let’s each try it on. You go first, since you found it,” Lizzy said. She bounced off the bed, snatched up the sneaker, and thrust it at Fairday.

  “Um, all right.” Fairday sat down on the bed. “Okay, here goes.” She untied the laces and leaned over, rushing to pull off her left shoe. Fairday’s attempt at trying on the sneaker proved disappointing, as it was much too small. “Ah, well. It’s clearly not going to fit me. You try it on.” She handed it back to Lizzy.

  Lizzy sat next to her and took off her own shoe. Sliding the high-heeled sneaker onto her foot, she exclaimed, “It fits! I can’t believe it!” Fairday watched as Lizzy stood up and spun around, modeling the strange footwear. It was almost as if it had been crafted for her, which seemed appropriate because her friend couldn’t resist dazzling things.

  “My foot feels so weird! Like it’s pulsating,” Lizzy stated, propping her foot up on the bed and reaching down to touch the red rubies, shining diamonds, and silky ribbon. “We definitely have to find the other one and figure out how to get into that mirror!” she said, taking off the sneaker.

  “You’re probably right,” Fairday replied, twisting the end of her ponytail. “I’m not all that comfortable with the idea of someone sneaking around this place, looking for their stolen shoe. Margo’s thievery might have made them angry.”

  “You betcha! Let’s head up to the third-floor room. I think it’s time to shift this investigation into full swing and figure out exactly who or what is creeping around this house,” Lizzy said as she got up and began lining up the items one by one on the dresser. “I mean, I would prefer we find whoever it is, rather than have them find us.” She zoomed in with her camera and clicked pictures of the brush, the bag with the hair in it, the photo, the key, the hourglass, and the high-heeled sneaker. She then sealed the camera back into its case and began to gather her detective tool
s. As she repacked them, she added, “That would not be good.”

  Fairday thought about Lizzy’s statement and heard Dif’s voice echoing in her head. See any dead people yet? At the time, she’d thought it was a stupid question, coming from a stupid boy who meant to embarrass her. But now she felt like it could really happen. Would they actually meet up with a ghost? Fairday’s stomach bubbled in anxiety. She knew they needed to find out what was going on in her house, but this investigation was getting scarier by the minute! What if they came face to face with the mystery person haunting her house? She needed to remain calm. Her best friend would be right beside her. They would protect each other.

  Fairday stuffed all the clues back into her bag, along with the notebook and pen. Both girls took a deep breath, looked at each other anxiously, and then headed out to begin their investigation of the Begonia House.

  Lizzy stared into the mirror and tentatively touched the glass. “I can’t imagine sticking my hand through here. It must have been unbelievable!” she said, stepping back and looking at Fairday.

  “It was. I can’t even explain what was going through my head. When my mom heard me yell and came running up, I just played it off like nothing had happened. I mean, what could I have possibly said? ‘Oh, by the way, Mom, Margo pulled this sneaker out of a door that I thought I saw inside this mirror, which has just disappeared. Sorry you missed it’? She’d have me institutionalized!” Fairday moved closer to the mirror and peered into it.