“Hey!” Lizzy shouted. “Hey down there!” But no one looked up. The ghostly figures just walked about, chatting and smiling. “Strange. Let’s see if the three of us can get their attention. Maybe they can’t hear me from this far up.”
The DMS tried with all their might to get a reaction from the ghost people. But no one gave any indication they heard them.
“Hold on a sec. Let me try my night-vision goggles,” Marcus said, taking them out of his backpack and putting them on. “Holy cow! They’re gone! Those figures have no heat, so they can’t be real people.”
“Let me try!” Lizzy exclaimed, and Marcus handed them to her.
“The infrared light senses temperature, and the hotter the object, the brighter it looks. It’s dark where those figures are. Humans would glow,” he explained.
“I see what you mean,” Lizzy said, passing the goggles to Fairday.
“Eerie as it is, at least those ghosts don’t seem scary,” Fairday said, handing the goggles back to Marcus, who put them in his bag.
“All right, that’s enough,” said Lizzy. Fumbling with her DMS pack and pulling it onto her shoulders, she added, “We need to find Auntie Em and figure out what the heck is going on here!”
Fairday and Marcus adjusted their own packs, then stood next to Lizzy, ready to begin investigating the other Begonia House.
The DMS was united but weary. They entered the third-floor room, a mixture of fear and excitement creeping in with them.
“Would you look at that,” Lizzy whispered. “It’s set up like someone’s actually using it as a bedroom.” She walked over to the chair, which was still in the corner, and trailed her fingers over the smooth, striped fabric.
There were no boxes piled up on the floor or dust bunnies wafting through the room or spiders scuttling about. Instead, it seemed to sparkle in the afternoon sunlight. The wardrobe was still there, its iron claws clamped together. There was also a four-poster bed, which was made up with a red velvet coverlet and silk pillows. Across from the bed was a wooden vanity with three candles lit on top. Fancy perfume bottles were arranged in rows, and in the center was a shining silver hand mirror, which shimmered under the candles’ glow.
“Fairday, hand me the brush!” Lizzy shouted. Fairday jumped in fright at the sudden outburst but quickly followed her instructions. Momentarily fumbling through her DMS pack, she whipped out the hairbrush and thrust it into her friend’s outstretched hand.
“Well, look at that,” Lizzy mumbled, more to herself than to her companions. “It’s so shiny and new. And look! There’s a place for it here!” She pointed to a spot next to the mirror. “It’s a set.”
“So,” Marcus said, “it seems that on this side of the mirror, things are as they once were, like they’re stuck in time or something.”
“Yeah,” replied Fairday. “Except the mirror we just came through still looks exactly the same.”
Lizzy placed the brush next to the hand mirror and turned to face Marcus and Fairday. “How do you think all this is possible? Clearly someone’s been in here. I mean, who lit these candles?”
“I think we have to assume that anything is possible from here on out, and that we are definitely not alone,” Marcus said.
“He’s right,” Lizzy responded first. “All we have to go on is what we know so far. Let’s hope it’s enough to get us out of here alive.”
Fairday couldn’t help but recoil at Lizzy’s words. Get out of here alive? It seemed so dramatic—ridiculous, really. But hadn’t Larry Lovell told her more than one person had died in this house? The tree had come to life and tried to grab them, hadn’t it? Was it really possible that their very lives were in danger? Yes was the answer her mind instantly shot back; their lives were in danger, and they needed to find her dog and a way out before the red-haired woman, whoever she was, figured out they were traipsing through her place.
“Well, let’s have a look around, then, and try to find Auntie Em,” Marcus said. “Quietly, though. I don’t think whoever lives here knows we’ve arrived.”
“Which is strange,” Lizzy replied. “We made such a racket when we came through the mirror, I would’ve thought we alerted just about every living thing within fifty miles of us.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Living being the key word—maybe that’s your answer. Those ghosts didn’t seem to hear us when we were screaming our heads off at them.”
“But,” Fairday interjected, “the red-haired lady doesn’t look like a shadow or a ghost. She’s as real-looking as anything.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Lizzy said. “Okay, time’s ticking. We better get moving!”
Three backpacks were flung onto the bed, and the DMS went to work. Marcus pulled out his infrared goggles again and strapped them to his head. Spinning around, he pointed his finger at Lizzy and Fairday. “Never fear, Brocket’s here!” he whispered dramatically, pushing his chin up, and the girls couldn’t hold back their laughter.
“I know they’re cool and all, but you really do look ridiculous,” Lizzy said through her snickers as she continued to fasten the headlamp around her curls.
“Just like a superhero detective! Watch out, world, here comes Brocket the Rocket!” Fairday chuckled.
“Ha-ha,” Marcus said. “Just you wait.” He smiled. “You’re gonna be even more thankful you brought me along.”
“We’ll see.” Lizzy nudged him jokingly. “Let’s get to work, then, Mr. Superhero Detective.”
Fairday began checking the rest of the clues in her backpack to see if anything else looked different on this side. She placed the sneaker and the frame on the bed. Grabbing the hourglass, she noticed that the red sand had turned green. “Check this out!” she said, holding it up. “How could it have changed color?”
“Wow! Weird! It’s still stopped, though,” Lizzy replied.
“Maybe it has something to do with being on this side of the mirror,” Marcus said.
“That makes sense,” Fairday said as she continued to fumble around the bottom of her DMS pack. “Oh no! The key! It’s not in here; we must have left it on the other side. Unless…did you grab it, Lizzy?”
Lizzy reached into her pockets. “No, I don’t have it. It must still be in the lock to the balcony door,” she said regretfully.
“Oh well,” Fairday replied, shrugging. “Who knows if it would’ve even worked on this side. We’ll just have to find another way out.” Once again reaching into her DMS pack, she produced the bag containing the red hair they had found in the bristles of the brush. Yelping loudly, she dropped it on the floor.
“What is it?” Lizzy asked, racing over to her side.
“Look!” Fairday pointed at the bag. The hair was glowing red, slithering back and forth inside.
“Ugh! That’s so gross!” Lizzy said.
“Yeah, it is gross, but it’s also cool,” Marcus said as he picked up the bag. Holding it at eye level, he continued to scrutinize the hair. “I just don’t understand how it’s moving! Any ideas?”
Fairday pulled out a small water bottle from her pack and began to unscrew the top.
“What are you doing?” Marcus asked.
“Well, you might think it’s silly, but I know Dorothy was able to melt the wicked witch with water, and I figured it couldn’t hurt to bring it along. I’ll keep it handy in case the hair gets loose. You never know!” Fairday said.
“I love how you’re always prepared!” Lizzy beamed at her partner.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” Marcus asked.
“Let’s start on the first floor and work our way back up,” Fairday suggested.
“Agreed,” Lizzy and Marcus answered in unison.
Shoving everything into their packs, they prepared to leave. “Wait,” Lizzy all but shouted. “We have to document this. We don’t know what’s important, and a picture or two could be the answer we need.” She opened her pack, took out her camera, and snapped several shots of their surroundings. Lizzy then zoomed in on the matching mir
ror and even pulled the bag with the hair back out and shot a short video clip. When everything that seemed relevant was documented, Lizzy slipped the camera into the front pocket of her jeans for easy access, and the team was finally ready.
They made their way single file down the spiral staircase. When they came to the door at the bottom of the stairs, their backs stiffened with anticipation as they prepared to turn the corner and explore the rest of the strange world they had tumbled into.
Fairday reached out and turned the knob; the door swung open. Creeping into the second-floor hallway, they peered down the narrow corridor to find the same wall sconces as in Fairday’s home illuminating the paintings lining the walls. They were still gaudy; however, all were hanging properly and lacked the thick layer of dust they had accumulated on the other side. Fairday recalled feeling like the faces had been watching her on several occasions. Goose bumps popped up on her arms as she approached the nearest one: a robust woman with three bobbing chins held back by a string of pearls, which looked like they were going to pop at any second. She had a haughty look on her face, and her nose was turned up in disgust, as if there were a nasty smell. The portrait looked just as unpleasant on this side of the house.
“Now, that’s the scariest thing I’ve seen yet,” Marcus said.
“They seem like regular paintings on this side, so lifeless. I remember feeling like they were watching me when I first saw them. It was really bizarre.” Hesitantly, Fairday reached out and touched the face of the lady.
“Oh my gosh!” Lizzy exclaimed, and Fairday turned to see what she was talking about. Lizzy was staring at another portrait a few feet down the hall.
“What is it?” Fairday hurried to her partner’s side.
“Look into her eyes,” Lizzy instructed, her voice wavering. The painting was of a dainty young woman with cascading brown hair.
“Do you know who this is?” Fairday asked.
“Who is…” But before Lizzy could get the question out, realization dawned on her. “You’re right!” she said.
“Who?” Marcus said, trying to catch up as he glanced back and forth at both girls.
“It’s the lady from the picture I found online. The one with Thurston Begonia unveiling the Begonia House,” Lizzy said.
“Oh, right,” Marcus said. “This is the woman who was standing next to him. His wife maybe?”
“Cora Lynn Begonia,” Fairday said. “Larry Lovell told me she died giving birth to Ruby in this house. I’m sure that’s her. I mean, it’s got to be, right?”
“Creepy,” Lizzy mumbled. “Now check out the eyes.” She pointed to the painting.
Fairday moved in and peered into the painting’s eyes. “That’s my mom! And Margo!” She was breathing fast as she belted out, “Mom! Mom! I’m here! Can’t you hear me?” Fairday banged on the wall, trying to get her mother’s attention.
Through the eyes of the painting, she could clearly see her mother in the hallway bending down to pick up Margo, who was fussing with Mr. Fazzy, her stuffed pony. “Honey, we have to get you changed. Come on now, leave Mr. Fazzy there. You can get him after we get you a clean diapy,” Mrs. Morrow said.
“Margo!” Fairday yelled again. “It’s me! Look over here!”
“They can’t hear you,” Marcus said.
“Wait!” Lizzy said. “Look!” Margo had stopped trying to reach for her toy and was looking in the direction of Fairday’s voice. “I think she heard you.”
“Margo! I’m here!” Fairday shouted once more, her heart racing.
Margo pointed a pudgy finger at the painting and gurgled, “Far-fey!”
“Where’s Fairday, snookykins? You want to see your sister? What a love bug you are.” Mrs. Morrow kissed her face and carried her down the hallway.
Margo continued to point at the painting. “Far-fey, Far-fey!” she exclaimed in her deceptively wise baby voice.
The last thing Fairday heard was Mrs. Morrow chirping happily, “We’ll see Fairday later, sweetie; she’s playing with her friends. Here we are, the clean-bottom caboose!” And they disappeared behind one of the doors.
Fairday’s chest heaved as she leaned against the wall for support. She began to worry she’d never be with her family again. “What if we can’t find Auntie Em and get out of here?” she said, unable to hold back her sobs. “What are we going to do?”
Lizzy placed a hand on her shoulder and helped her to stand up straight. “We’re going to be fine,” she said. “We’ll find her and a way out, I promise.”
“It’s going to be all right,” Marcus said with a warm smile. “Remember—never fear, Brocket’s here!”
He was right. They were together, they could count on each other, and, after all, they were the Detective Mystery Squad! A renewed sense of determination took hold, and Fairday gathered her strength. Nothing could come from crying about the situation. They needed to take action now to get her dog, get back home, and solve this mystery.
Lizzy, Marcus, and Fairday tiptoed to the end of the hallway and began to descend the grand staircase. Stepping onto the black-and-white-checkered floor, they turned around, taking in the foyer. The chandelier sparkled overhead as rainbows shifted in the glow of its light. To their right stood a closed door.
“That’s the sitting room,” Fairday said, pointing to it. “My mom’s working on that room right now. I only got a peek at it before she closed it off.”
“Let’s take a look, then,” Marcus replied, shifting his backpack on his shoulders and moving closer. “It’ll be interesting to see what it looks like on this side.”
“What if the red-haired lady is in there?” Fairday asked, her eyes flicking from Marcus to the closed door.
“Well,” Marcus replied, “we’ll probably have to face her sooner or later…might as well be sooner.”
“I guess you’re right,” Fairday said as she twisted the end of her ponytail.
She opened the door a crack, and they peered inside. Wow, if her mother could see this! Everything was gleaming; hints of gold and silver shimmered against the glow from several fancy lamps, which stood on wooden end tables. Paintings of colorful landscapes hung from the walls all around them. A fire crackled in a stone hearth with a magnificent mantelpiece strewn with expensive-looking trinkets. Bookshelves lined one side of the room, reaching all the way to the top of the high ceiling, and numerous vases with long-stemmed roses were scattered about.
“Do you guys think this is where the dried rose petals I found on the third floor came from?” Fairday asked.
“Definitely. Whoever it was carried them over from here,” Lizzy replied.
Fairday pulled open the door a bit wider, and they moved inside. Marcus quickly scanned it with his infrared goggles and nodded that the coast was clear. Walking around, Fairday was trying very hard not to touch anything but found it nearly impossible. Marcus was already rolling a strange-looking blue glass ball between the palms of his hands, and Lizzy was lifting a sparkling figurine off the bookshelf. Fairday’s friend was like a crow when it came to shiny things.
“I don’t think we should touch anything. I mean, what if she comes in here and finds us messing around with her stuff?” Fairday peered at Lizzy and Marcus, who sheepishly looked back at her. Lizzy immediately slid the trinket back onto its shelf, and Marcus set down the glass ball.
“You’re right. We are, after all, uninvited guests.” Lizzy sighed, staring at the dazzling treasure.
Fairday looked forlornly at the wall of books and hoped she’d get to read them on the other side of the house. Suddenly, they heard a knock and immediately turned to face the door. It was still open a crack, but next to it they noticed a large orb resting in a metal frame. The globe began to glow with white smoke swirling around inside. Walking over, they were startled to see Mr. Morrow opening the front door of Fairday’s house for some painters.
“Oh my gosh,” Lizzy whispered. “This must be a window into what’s happening on the other side.”
“How do yo
u think it works?” Fairday asked.
“No knobs or buttons,” Marcus added, checking it out.
After gazing at it for a few minutes, they realized the only view it gave was of the front door. “I guess it just shows who’s coming into and going out of the house. It’s scary to think how many places there are on this side where you can spy on my family on the other side,” Fairday said, biting her lip.
“Yeah. Well, at least things seem to be moving along as they were before we went through the mirror,” Lizzy replied. Turning back to face Marcus and Fairday, she continued. “I guess we should go and check out the kitchen next to see if Auntie Em’s in there. What do you guys think?”
Marcus and Fairday nodded in agreement, and they all turned to head out the door. Just then, the glass ball that Marcus had been playing with rolled off the table and plummeted to the ground, the sound of breaking glass shattering the silence that had enveloped them since they arrived.
The DMS stood rooted to the spot, no one daring to take a breath as they waited and listened. Not a sound could be heard, so they quietly marched toward the kitchen.
Fairday was impressed to see all of the appliances gleaming. She swiveled her head, taking in her surroundings, and her eyes settled on the stove. The clock was not foggy, but it read three o’clock, just like on the other side of the mirror! She wasn’t sure what that meant, but her fingers itched to write it down in her notebook. Time stopped at the same moment on this side too! Suddenly, a long sour note burst out from behind them and sent the DMS jumping into the air, grabbing for each other’s arms.
“What was that?” Lizzy whispered, her eyes widening.
“The bagpipes,” Fairday whispered back. “What should we do?”
“We have to go out there and see what’s going on. We’ll never get to the bottom of this if we run away,” Marcus said, his confidence winning him Fairday’s vote. “And we have that water bottle. Who knows? We could luck out like Dorothy.”
The Secret Files of Fairday Morrow Page 11
