The Secret Files of Fairday Morrow

by Jessica Haight

  Up in the third-floor room, the three detectives sat in a circle with all of the evidence they had gathered spread out in front of them. Auntie Em was sniffing around, searching for a comfortable spot to snooze. Fairday and Lizzy had just finished going over everything with Marcus, taking turns to produce the clues in the same order that Fairday had shown Lizzy. They enjoyed watching Marcus’s facial expressions as each piece was presented. His face was a mixture of awe and determination. Although they used the ultraviolet light and the infrared goggles that Marcus had “borrowed” from his dad, nothing new was revealed.

  Finally, they put the evidence aside and examined the picture Lizzy had enhanced. Fairday took out the notebook and pen and set them down next to her. “Okay, here we go,” she said as she began reading the clue from the back of the picture. “This is the first line: ‘Father, I’m here!’ ” She paused for a moment to let the words sink in, and then added, “So that must mean that Ruby was still in the house and hadn’t gone anywhere, right?” She bit the end of her pen.

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” Marcus responded. “But why? Did she write this after she went missing?”

  Lizzy chimed in, “You betcha! She must have, because it was the picture taken on her wedding day. Ruby wouldn’t have seen it before she disappeared. That’s why she was trying to tell him she hadn’t died or gone missing.”

  Fairday continued. “ ‘Beware the tree when you use the key.’ The key mentioned here must be the one that opens the balcony door, because we know she’s definitely talking about the willow. I mean, we saw it come alive, and it tried to make a grab for me!” She pointed to her ankle. “Mr. Lovell said Ruby’s dad, Thurston, died when he fell from the third-floor balcony. He implied that he didn’t think it was accidental, and I’m pretty sure, after reading this”—she held up the picture and shook it—“and actually seeing it for myself, that he was pulled over by that tree!” There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other in amazement. Fairday went on, breaking the spell. “It says here, too, ‘Turn around and you will see.’ When we turned around after the tree tried to attack us, we saw the evil-looking red-haired lady staring at us from inside the mirror.”

  “And,” Lizzy piped up, “we think the mirror’s the way in.” She pointed in its direction. “After all, Margo almost went all the way through a door that appeared in it. That’s when she pulled out this sneaker.” Lizzy grabbed the sparkling red shoe and held it up.

  “The way into where, though?” Marcus asked as he took the sneaker from Lizzy and turned it over in his hands. His eyes widened as he held it, clearly feeling the odd vibrations. He passed it back to Lizzy with a look of uncertainty on his face.

  She took the sneaker from him and began to shove it back into her DMS pack with the rest of the clues. “What’s really crazy is the fact that this sneaker fits me perfectly!”

  “Yeah,” Fairday said. “I mean, what are the chances of finding a magical shoe that actually fits? It’s like something out of The Wizard of Oz.”

  “I wonder what would happen if you wore both shoes,” Marcus said.

  “I don’t know, but in the book Dorothy doesn’t realize the shoes have powers, only the witch does. When each of them has a shoe, the magic is divided. The trick is you have to know how to make them work. Imagine if these are like those!” Fairday said, grabbing her best friend’s arm.

  “Oh my gosh! That would be so cool!” Lizzy gushed, grinning with excitement.

  “Okay, let’s focus,” Marcus interrupted. “Where do you guys think the mirror goes?”

  “I have no idea,” Fairday answered. “I mean, where could it possibly go?” She threw her hands in the air.

  “Anything’s possible,” Lizzy said.

  “Yeah, that’s for sure. Larry Lovell did mention something about Thurston Begonia that I wanted to tell you. Hang on, I have the interview right here,” Fairday said, rummaging through her pack for her school folder. Whipping out the paper, she scanned her notes until she came to the part about Thurston. “Mr. Lovell told me Thurston Begonia kept to himself, never wanting guests. But every month after Ruby went missing, he had roses delivered. Supposedly the maid was instructed to place them in Thurston’s study. Rumors about the family being cursed were reinforced by the gossip she spread about the wild things she saw in there.”

  “Do you have any idea which room was his study?” Lizzy asked.

  “Well, there’s a room on the second floor with a desk in it, and there’s other stuff in there too! It’s all covered up with sheets, but it could’ve been his study. I discovered it the first day we moved in, when I was picking out my bedroom.”

  “We should check it out,” Marcus said. “Who knows what we’ll find.”

  “I think we should definitely take a look,” Fairday replied. “What do you think, Lizzy?”

  “You betcha!” Lizzy exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Let’s get going!”

  Auntie Em seemed to understand something was happening and lifted an eyelid at Lizzy’s raised voice. She sat up, eyes bugged out, panting in Fairday’s direction.

  “Is Auntie Em okay up here by herself or should we bring her with us?” Lizzy asked.

  “She’s fine. Besides, we’ll be back soon,” Fairday said, bending down to pat her dog’s head. “You stay here, all right, girl?” Auntie Em wagged her knobby tail twice before she plopped back down, her puggish snore starting up again.

  Creaking open the door, the three detectives slipped into the room. The green velvet curtains were drawn, making the space feel dark and dank. Everything was dusty, including the massive wooden desk, which sat in front of the window. Marcus walked over to it and pulled back the adjacent curtains to let some light in. He then began opening the drawers. Lizzy started pulling sheets off, revealing a brown leather armchair and a large globe set in an iron frame.

  Fairday walked over to the other side of the room and pulled off a sheet. To her surprise, the first thing she uncovered was an antique bookcase. Most of the books were in relatively good shape, while the bindings of others were coming undone. There were many leather-bound editions with ornate covers, and she breathed in the old books, relishing their musty smell. Leaning in, she read the titles on the closest shelf: Master Manifestations: How to Make Your Dreams Come True by Dorian Stark. Mix Your Own Mayhem by I. L. Notso. Magic Forthcoming by Edith Goodsoe. What an amazing find! Fairday couldn’t wait to curl up on the chair in here and do some reading. She’d always been fascinated by magic, and these books sounded like hours of entertainment.

  “Guys, check this out! I might have something that can point us in the right direction.”

  Lizzy and Marcus both stopped what they were doing and hurried to her side. Fairday pointed to Remembering Ruby by T. S. Begonia. “I don’t believe it—Thurston must’ve written a book about Ruby!” Fairday pulled it down, blew the dust off, and flipped open the cover.

  “Oh my gosh! I never would’ve expected that!” Lizzy exclaimed as Fairday held it out for her partners to see. It wasn’t a book at all. Instead of pages, the interior was hollowed out like a box and packed with dried rose petals.

  “Why would Thurston have done this?” Fairday asked, remembering the rose petals she had found on the floor of the third-floor room and the one in Ruby’s diary. What do they mean?

  “Dump them out,” Marcus interjected. “Maybe there’s a clue stuffed in there.”

  Lizzy rolled her eyes at Marcus’s crude words but nodded in agreement. Fairday began to walk over to the desk when suddenly a strong breeze blew in, slamming the door shut. They all jumped. The petals flew out of the box from the sudden gust of wind, fluttering down softly as the room became still once again.

  “Where did the wind come from?” Fairday asked with a shiver. “The windows aren’t even open.”

  “Creepy,” Lizzy answered.

  “This is definitely not the Saturday I was expecting when I went to the library today,” Marcus said. “This is awesome! I’d like to th
ink it could be a ghost, but chances are there’s air coming in from cracks around the window, which created a draft.”

  “I hope so,” Fairday said, gnawing on her thumbnail. The anxiety she felt from the last ghostly appearance flooded through her body. No more sightings, thank goodness, she thought.

  Examining the empty book, they were disappointed there was nothing behind the space where the petals had been resting.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Marcus said. “Why would Thurston create this fake book only to hide dead roses in it? There must be more to it.” Bending down, he grabbed his black light from his pack and closed the curtains as the purple light began to fill the room. As he waved it over the book, a sliver of white showed in the hollowed out area. “There’s something here, but I can’t find a way to it.”

  “Pull off the cover and see if there’s anything on the other side of the space,” Fairday directed.

  Marcus eased it off. Running his hands over it under the glowing light, he saw a dark spot. “A hinge!” he exclaimed. Whipping open the curtains, he turned off his black light.

  Fairday kept her eyes on the book as Marcus slid the hidden hinge aside, revealing another secret compartment. Only this one wasn’t filled with rose petals. Nor was it empty.

  Snatching up the note, Fairday scanned it and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness! Listen to this! ‘Dear Ruby, I know you’re here. Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of you turning a corner. I can’t see you, though I feel you in the air around me. I know you can read my words, even though there aren’t any that can express my sorrow. Roses were always your favorite flower, and you will always be mine.’ Ugh, the note is ripped in half. It ends there. What a peculiar place to hide a letter.”

  “It sure is! But that note definitely makes a case for the house being haunted,” Marcus said.

  “Oh, that doesn’t make me feel any better. Do you think that was what rushed past us and slammed the door before? A ghost?” Fairday paled at the thought.

  “I don’t know, but we do know that Thurston didn’t think he was alone after Ruby disappeared. It might also help to explain the writing on the back of the picture. We just need to figure out where she went and what happened to her.”

  “Larry Lovell told me to go beyond what could be seen with my eyes,” Fairday said.

  Just then, a screeching note sounded in the hallway, causing them to jump.

  “What was that?” Marcus yelled.

  Dread seeped over Fairday like molasses. “Bagpipes,” she said, sounding scared.

  Auntie Em barked. They could hear her continue to howl and then whimper from the third floor. Lizzy’s mouth dropped open as Fairday shot out of the room and began racing to the third floor. Marcus and Lizzy were right behind her when they reached the top step and saw the little pug being carried over the shoulder of the red-haired lady through the door in the mirror.

  “Auntie Em!” Fairday cried, rushing toward the scene. She touched the mirror, but it was solid. “Oh my goodness! What should we do? She’s got Auntie Em! We have to save her!”

  “Don’t worry, Fairday. We’ll get her back!” Lizzy said.

  “We don’t know that!” Fairday sobbed.

  Marcus put on a brave face and said with conviction, “Let’s open up that old mirror and get your dog back. Whoever is haunting this house needs to be stopped. Since the clue on the picture says to use the key and turn around, maybe that’s how to get inside the mirror.”

  Fairday nodded weakly as Lizzy said, “That sounds like a plan. We just have to remember to keep an eye on that tree.”

  The DMS stood in front of the mirror, seeing only their reflections looking back at them. “Okay,” Fairday said. “Here’s the brass key.” She held it up, feeling somewhat like her father with his key announcements. “We need to open the balcony door.” She once again pulled back the caution tape and thrust the key into the lock, turning it. Marcus and Lizzy stood behind her; she could feel their breath on the back of her neck as the door swung open, revealing the balcony.

  “Whoa!” Marcus exclaimed as he leaned over Fairday’s shoulder to get a better look. “I can see your dad’s reasoning behind putting up all the caution tape. It definitely doesn’t look safe!”

  “Just wait,” Lizzy said, holding on to the strap of Fairday’s DMS pack and bracing herself in the doorjamb.

  The wind began to pick up and Fairday poked Marcus in the side, pointing to the willow tree. The bluish leaves began to come alive on the twisted limbs, which were contorting and extending up toward the balcony, growing at an alarming rate. The wind howled furiously as the tree bent toward them, reaching up with its long, twisted fingers.

  “Holy cow!” Marcus shouted. “It’s gonna grab us!”

  “Everyone turn around!” Lizzy yelled above the sound of the rushing wind and colliding branches. Quickly turning, they faced the mirror. The door was there, and it was open, but there was no sign of the terrifying lady.

  The space they were standing in was now glowing with a bluish hue. Branches were pushing their way in through the door. One limb wrapped itself around Marcus’s waist and was beginning to drag him out onto the balcony. “STOP, STOP!” he bellowed, panicking as he tried to yank it off.

  Fairday went to grab Marcus but was forcefully flung backward and propelled through the mirror. She let out a yelp of surprise as she landed on her butt, wincing from the pain that shot up her back. Shaking her head to try to get a semblance of where she was and what was going on, she gave a cry of shock as she looked around. Was she the only member of the DMS who had made it through the mirror? Her mouth dropped open in awe as she speculated on what she had just done and how she would ever get back.

  Pulling herself up, Fairday felt like she had been transported into some sort of strange dream. She was alone and standing before the mirror, which no longer reflected a doorway but appeared more like a window. On the other side, the balcony door was closed; there was no sign of the raging willow, only remnants of ripped caution tape. She reached out and gently touched the mirror. It was solid and smooth beneath her fingertips. Fairday pressed her whole palm against the mirror and tried to calm down, but her thoughts galloped wildly in circles around her head. Are we stuck here?

  Focusing on the present once more, she noticed how quiet it had become. Without the chaos from only moments ago, her surroundings now seemed too still. Suddenly, she heard what sounded like a creaking step. Remembering the archway, she spun around to face it. The sound grew louder, and Fairday backed herself up against the wall. Who or what was heading her way?

  She relaxed when she recognized the familiar blond curls ascending the staircase. Lizzy emerged, followed by Marcus, both of them looking quite disheveled; Lizzy’s hair was a tangled mess of sticks and dead leaves, while Marcus’s shirt was covered with dirt and what looked like blood. A gash in his cheek was bleeding, and his legs had long scratches. Fairday looked down at herself, but other than a few scrapes, she seemed to be all right.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Well, once I saw the branches rushing toward us, and you fly backwards, I grabbed Marcus and jumped into the mirror, pulling you guys as hard as I could,” Lizzy explained.

  “Yeah, you pulled hard,” Marcus said. “I only had time to slam the balcony door closed before we rolled halfway down the spiral staircase. Fairday’s lucky she didn’t have to take that trip.”

  “It definitely doesn’t look like it was fun,” Fairday replied. Thankfully, though, they were all in one piece, and other than Marcus’s cut, which seemed to have stopped bleeding, no one had suffered anything more serious. After brushing themselves off, the three then focused on their situation.

  They were standing in the middle of the third-floor landing. To their right was the secret room, to the left was the balcony, and in front of them stood the mirror. As similar as everything looked, it was all completely different. Their surroundings appeared to be newer and much cleaner. The floorboards were gleaming and bot
h of the wall sconces were lit, whereas on the other side only one of them had a working bulb, while the other was broken and falling off its hook. There were no cobwebs or spiders. It all seemed newly decorated; all of it, that is, except the mirror, which looked as ancient as it ever had.

  “Where are we? And how are we going to get out of here?” Marcus asked.

  “I already touched the mirror. It looks more like a window now. I couldn’t see a door or any other reflection.” Fairday shrugged. “I don’t know how, but we’re in my house, only it’s not my house.”

  “Weird,” Lizzy mumbled as she walked over to the balcony door and peered outside. Excitedly, she yelled, “You guys have got to see this!”

  Fairday and Marcus looked down at the balcony before stepping onto it. It seemed sturdy, no longer creaking and dilapidated. Walking out a bit farther, they looked down at the backyard and in unison exclaimed, “Wow!” Except this time it had nothing to do with the wild willow tree.

  “Are they ghosts?” Marcus asked.

  “They look like what I picture ghosts to look like,” Lizzy murmured.

  The three detectives stood transfixed by what they were witnessing. The deadened area that Fairday knew to be her backyard was bursting with life, or possibly just the memory of life. It was green and drenched in sunlight, accented by colorful flowers, which cascaded through multiple gardens and stone pathways. An arbor dripping with leafy vines was set up under the willow, which was blooming peacefully. Its branches swayed in a soft breeze, and Fairday flinched as she watched them move, bracing herself in case they decided to suddenly come to life and reach out for her. But the oddest thing about the backyard was the hazy figures of people dressed in fancy clothes, walking around and talking among themselves. They were just dim shadows, dancing and cavorting with each other against a background of color and life.