by Tracey West
“This poem is called ‘Lost,’” she said.
“Lost.
Every thought.
Every hope.
Every dream.
Lost.
Stolen.
My heart fills with despair . . .”
AJ noticed that Claire never even made eye contact with the audience as she read her poem. But they seemed captivated by her words. The club was absolutely quiet, except for the sound of Claire’s voice.
When she was done, the silence was replaced with applause.
“Let me guess,” Aly said to AJ. “That poem was about losing her notebook.”
Claire quickly left the stage and went back to her lonely corner of the club. Aly and AJ followed her there.
“Claire, that was great,” AJ said. “Really moving.”
“Thanks,” Claire said gloomily. “But it’s probably the last poem I’ll ever write. I looked at home for my notebook, and it’s not anywhere. I have to sing two new songs for the contest tomorrow, and they’re lost. Lost forever.”
“Maybe you can try to remember them,” Aly suggested.
Claire shook her head. “I tried. But my mind is empty. Whenever I try to think of them, nothing comes up.”
“Then try again,” AJ said gently. “Claire, you’re a great songwriter. Aly and I would be really sad if you didn’t show up tomorrow. Just believe in yourself, and you’ll remember.”
This seemed to calm Claire down. “You really think I’m a great songwriter?” she asked.
The sisters nodded. “Definitely,” Aly said. “You just need more confidence in yourself.”
The club quieted down once more, and Austin took the stage. His smile seemed to light up the dark club.
“I wrote this poem for someone I just met,” he said, looking in AJ’s direction. AJ felt her cheeks flush.
“Oh, this is going to be good,” Aly whispered.
Austin cleared his throat and began.
“She plays her guitar.
Blond hair streaming like rays of sunlight.
Each note fills my heart . . .”
Aly giggled. “Boy, he’s laying it on thick, AJ.”
Thankfully, the poem was short. Austin took a bow and jumped off the stage.
Then AJ felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Heather standing there.
“I need to talk to you two,” she said.
AJ looked at Aly. Her sister shrugged. “We might as well clear this up.”
They followed Heather to the back of the club.
“You guys think Austin is pretty great, right?” she asked.
“Listen, Heather, all of the contestants are talented . . .” AJ began.
“That’s not what I mean,” Heather snapped. “I’m just saying, you’d better be careful who you let win this competition, that’s all.”
“Heather, what are you talking about?” Aly asked.
“I heard about Claire’s notebook,” Heather said. “She’s been talking about it all night. That’s when I realized. I know who did it.”
Heather’s green eyes gleamed with anticipation.
“Did you see something?” AJ asked.
“I saw somebody open up Claire’s guitar case and pick up the notebook,” she said. She paused dramatically. “It was Austin!”
CHAPTER SIX:
SLEUTHING IN SEATTLE
“Austin?” Aly asked, shocked. She looked at her sister. AJ’s jaw had dropped.
“But he seems so sure of himself.” AJ shook her head in disbelief. “Why would he have to stoop to something like that?”
Heather smirked. “Maybe you two aren’t such great judges of character, either.” Then she turned and stalked out.
Aly grabbed AJ’s arm and pulled her close.
“Can we even believe what she’s got to say?” Aly asked. “She is totally ticked off about being booted from the competition.”
“It doesn’t seem to fit with Austin’s personality, but let’s face it, we really don’t know him that well,” AJ answered. “The only thing we can do is ask him.”
Aly agreed. The sisters walked back toward the front of the club. They didn’t need to look far for Austin. He was waiting for them.
“There you are!” he said. “I was wondering where you were. Let’s sit over here. We can have some privacy.” He gestured toward three cushions in a dark corner. They all sat down.
“Did you like my poem?” Austin asked, smiling at AJ.
“It was very nice, but . . .” AJ faltered.
Aly jumped in. “But we need to ask you something. Did you take Claire’s notebook?” she asked bluntly.
Austin looked surprised. The flirty smile he was aiming at AJ left his face. He shifted on the couch and looked down at the floor. “No, I didn’t. Why would you think that?”
Aly and AJ exchanged glances. Something was up.
“Heather told us she saw you looking in the notebook,” AJ said.
Austin snorted. He seemed to get some of his confidence back. “Heather? And you believe her? You saw how she flipped out after you read the results. She’s just jealous and trying to make trouble,” he said. Then he glanced up at the stage. “Hey, look,” he pointed. “It’s Josh.”
Josh stood on stage. His eyes were closed and his head was down. The lights sparkled on his blond hair.
“To be me, you have to see me,” Josh began. He continued to speak, putting a lot of feeling into his words. But once again, the girls thought it was kind of corny.
Austin looked at them and rolled his eyes. “That Josh. I wish he could get it together. Some nights, his poetry is really great. But when it’s not good, it’s really bad,” he said.
“He does have real potential,” AJ replied. “Especially writing melodies.”
Aly let out a big yawn. “I think we’d better call it a night,” she said. “It’s been a long day and I’m beat.” She and AJ got up.
“Good night,” Austin said, standing up. AJ braced herself for some flirty remark, but he left quickly.
“I don’t know who to believe, but something makes me think that Austin isn’t being truthful with us,” Aly said.
Now it was AJ’s turn to yawn. “I agree. But right now the only thing I can think of is getting to bed!”
“Yummy!” Aly drooled. On a plate in front of her was a Belgian waffle loaded with strawberries and fresh whipped cream.
“To the max,” AJ agreed. Her plate was piled high with eggs, fresh fruit, and pancakes.
They were eating breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant. It was buffet-style and the serving tables were loaded with delicious treats. Aly put a forkful of waffle, strawberries, and cream into her mouth. She closed her eyes. “Mmmmmmmm,” she said. “Delicious.”
“This is awesome, too,” AJ said as she dug into her omelet.
“Wasn’t Austin acting weird last night?” Aly asked after she swallowed her last mouthful.
AJ nodded. “I don’t think he was telling the truth.”
“Even if he is a horrible flirt, he seems like a nice guy,” Aly said. “It makes me sad to think he’d do something like that.”
“I know what you mean,” AJ said. “But it was weird the way he got all flustered, and then tried to change the subject by talking about Josh. And he practically ran out when we were leaving!”
“But he said he didn’t take Claire’s notebook,” Aly stated. “And we don’t have any proof that he did, except that Heather said she saw him looking in it.”
AJ sighed and put down her fork. “I wish there was a way we could prove for sure whether he did or didn’t take it.”
“I bet we can figure something out. We’ve already solved two mysteries,” Aly said. “We helped Gigi find out who stole all those guitars in New York. And we figured who was sabotaging Sandra Peng’s fashions in Miami.”
“Yeah, we’re the next Sherlock Holmes,” AJ giggled.
Aly laughed. “We just need the magnifying glass—and a fingerprinting kit.�
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AJ stopped laughing. “Hey—a fingerprinting kit! That’s not a bad idea. Remember the one we had when we were kids?”
Aly’s eyes lit up. “That’s right. And it really worked!” She paused. “Wait a minute. Are we seriously thinking about using a fingerprinting kit? That’s a little . . . extreme, don’t you think?”
“Hey, we keep getting into these detective situations, so we might as well get some detective equipment, right?” AJ reasoned. “Anyway, I think fingerprints are the best way to find out what happened to Claire’s notebook. We can pick up a kit at a toy store. It’s worth a try.” She pulled her notebook out of her bag and opened it up.
“We’ll need to check Claire’s guitar case for fingerprints,” AJ said as she wrote. “Then we’ll have to rule out any prints on the case that are Claire’s. If there are any strange prints, we can check them against Austin’s.”
“Sounds great,” Aly said. “But how do we get Austin’s fingerprints?”
“Hmmmm.” AJ tapped her pen against her cheek. “I’ve got it! We’ve got an appearance this afternoon at that rock and roll museum, the Experience Music Project. All of the songwriting contestants will be there. We’ll get his prints then!”
“I know Austin is crazy about you, but I don’t think he’ll let you take his fingerprints, especially if he is guilty,” Aly responded.
“They’ll be serving refreshments,” AJ said. “I’m sure Austin will have something to drink. We can take the empty cup or can and get the prints from that. Maybe Jim can help us.”
Aly shook her head. “It sounds crazy, but it just might work!”
CHAPTER SEVEN:
A STRANGE PRINT
“Aly! AJ! What are you doing here?” Claire asked as she opened the door to her apartment.
Aly and AJ had looked up Claire’s address on her contest entry form. Claire lived in the trendy Belltown neighborhood, a mix of cool shops and restaurants, newer condos and apartment buildings, and older architecture. Her home was an old, red, brick-faced building on a tree-lined street.
Aly and AJ both grinned a little sheepishly at Claire. What had seemed like a great idea back at the hotel now seemed a little silly. They had stopped by a toy store and bought a fingerprinting kit. AJ clutched the bag in her hand.
Aly spoke first. “We feel really bad about your notebook. We want to help you find it.”
“We thought if we could fingerprint your guitar case, we could find out if anyone else had touched it,” AJ added. “I know it sounds silly . . .”
Claire’s eyes grew wide. “That is so nice of you,” she said softly. “I can’t believe you guys are going to so much trouble to help me.”
Claire’s gratitude made the girls feel good about their decision. “We’re happy to help,” Aly said. “Can we see your guitar case, please?”
Claire led them to her bedroom, a small room on the second floor. The first thing Aly and AJ noticed about the room was that the walls were painted with deep purple paint. One whole wall was filled with bookshelves. Books spilled out onto the floor, but that was the only mess in sight. Claire’s guitar case was propped up on the wall.
AJ set the guitar case on the floor, then sat down cross-legged in front of it.
“We’ll concentrate on the handle and the lock, since that’s what somebody would have touched to open it,” she said. “Aly, give me the fingerprint powder, please.”
“Wow, AJ,” Aly said. “You sound so professional. Like you could be on one of those crime shows.”
She handed AJ the fingerprint powder and brush. AJ dipped the brush in the powder, then brushed it on the shiny silver lock of the guitar case. She leaned down to get a closer look.
“Wow, it works!” she said. “There are a lot of prints here. A couple of clear ones, too.”
“Try the handle now,” Aly suggested.
AJ brushed the powder on the plastic handle, and more prints appeared.
“Great,” AJ said. “Now we need to capture them.”
The fingerprint kit came with a special sticky kind of paper. AJ put a piece of paper over one of the prints. The powder stuck to it, leaving a perfect impression.
“Cool,” Aly said. “Let me try.”
Soon they had a row of saved fingerprints.
“They all look the same,” Claire remarked.
“Yes, but no two people’s fingerprints are alike,” AJ said. She took a magnifying glass from the kit and held it up to one of the prints. “There are ways to tell fingerprints apart from the patterns they make. Some have loops, or arches, or circles, called whorls.”
She looked up at Claire. “We need to get a print from you to compare to the ones we just took.”
Aly helped Claire roll her index finger on the inkpad that came with the kit. Then she pressed it onto a blank white card.
Claire began to giggle. “If anyone would have told me a week ago that I would be fingerprinted by Aly and AJ, I would have said they were crazy!”
AJ looked at the print under a magnifying glass. Then she looked at one of the fingerprints she’d found on the case.
“This is pretty tricky,” she admitted. “You have to look really hard to see the details in a fingerprint. But Claire’s print kind of stands out, because it’s mostly arches. The line goes from one side of her finger to the other, see?”
Claire and Aly leaned in. Aly nodded. “You’re right. It looks like a lot of the prints we took.”
“Right,” AJ said. “But then look at this one.”
She pointed to another print she had taken from the case. The print had a big circle in the middle.
“Claire doesn’t have any whorls,” AJ said. “At least, not on her index finger. Let’s check the others.”
They checked the rest of Claire’s fingers. None of her prints had whorls.
“So this print has to belong to someone else,” AJ said. “Claire, has anyone else handled your guitar case?”
Claire shook her head. “No. I don’t let anyone touch it, not even my mom. I’m real protective of my guitar.”
Aly and AJ understood. Their guitars were very special to them, too. They had even named them—Artemis and Jonah.
“So the print must belong to the person who opened the case and stole the notebook!” Aly exclaimed.
“It looks that way,” AJ said. “Now we just have to find out if Heather was telling the truth.”
“I can’t wait to see the Experience Music Project,” Jim said. He was driving Aly, AJ, and Carrie. “I heard it is amazing.”
“It is something to see,” Carrie said. “The Seattle Center Monorail runs right through it.”
Aly and AJ had gone back to the hotel after their adventure at Claire’s. They were going to be performing that afternoon, so they had to make sure they looked good. A bright lime-green halter top peeked out of the top and bottom of Aly’s scoop-necked quarter-sleeve black T-shirt. She paired it with dark blue denim boot-cut jeans and a pair of black boots. Aly wore a deep purple v-neck top with ripped lace along the edges of the neckline. She wore a pair of vintage-looking jeans with black knee-high boots.
“It doesn’t sound like any museum I’ve been to before,” Aly said.
“It’s very different, but neat. There are a lot of interactive exhibits. And you’ll both love looking at all the rock and roll artifacts. I think you’re going to go nuts over the Guitar Gallery. They’ve got Gibsons, Fenders, Les Pauls—even guitars from the 1700s,” Carrie told them.
Jim parked the car and they all got out to walk. They were met with a strange sight. The museum building looked like it was made up of three parts. The center structure was a tall, shiny building that shimmered a coppery-pink in the sunlight. The two parts on either side looked like they had been built of giant sheets of metal that had curved like ocean waves. The girls had never seen anything like it.
“They really go for the space-age look in Seattle,” AJ joked.
Once inside, a museum staff member gave them a quick tour of
the Guitar Gallery before the reception began. They oohed and aahed over the guitars.
“I could spend hours here,” Aly said.
“Me too. But we’ve got to make some musical history of our own,” AJ replied.
The reception for the songwriting contestants was held in the Sky Church, an amazing room with soaring cathedral ceilings. It had a state-of-the-art sound system and a huge indoor video screen.
“I thought this was supposed to be low-key,” AJ said nervously to Carrie.
“Yeah, I thought we were going to do an acoustic set,” Aly said.
“Don’t worry, you are,” Carrie replied. “Don’t let the environment psych you out. You’ll do great.”
They went onstage and checked out the microphones and tuned up their guitars. Soon the guests began streaming in. Amber was the first to arrive, decked out in black lipstick and a long black dress. A man and a woman were with her; Aly and AJ guessed they must be her parents. Her dad wore a colorful Hawaiian shirt, and her mom was dressed in pink from head to toe.
Aly looked at AJ and giggled. “I guess Amber is the rebel of the family,” she whispered.
The room quickly filled up with a small crowd of contestants, their parents, and some members of the local press. All of the contestants had been invited, not just the finalists, but they were relieved to see that Heather wasn’t there. They did see Bree and Henry; it looked like the two finalists had come together. They were deep in conversation in a corner.
Jim tapped Aly on the shoulder.
“Let’s get this party started,” he said.
The girls nodded and stepped up to the mics.
“Hey, everybody,” Aly said. “I’m Aly.”
“And I’m AJ,” her sister joined in. “We just want to thank everyone who entered the songwriting contest. There’s so much talent here in Seattle!”
The crowd responded with applause and a high-pitched whistle—from Austin, of course.
“All right, time to have some fun,” Aly said.
The girls played a short acoustic set of some of their most popular songs, including “Potential Breakup Song” and “Like Whoa.” The acoustics in the room were great, and the girls’ voices came through pure and clean.
