by Annie Bryant
Nick tapped on the window and pointed to the door, indicating that he’d meet her there. Charlotte hoped she could think of a good way to explain things, but as every step brought her closer to the door, she doubted it. It was just one more “perfect” Charlotte Ramsey moment, the kind that people would never let her forget and would end up under her yearbook picture.
“Hi, Char,” Nick said with a smile, pushing open the door. “You coming in, or did you want to just hang out by the window?”
Charlotte broke into a smile. Nick was teasing her, but in a nice way. “Uh, no,” Charlotte said. “No, I’ve got Marty with me.”
“Oh. Well, are you looking for Isabel?”
Charlotte looked at him curiously. He was the second person that afternoon to ask about Isabel. Anna had mentioned her too, and Charlotte wondered what was going on. “No,” she answered, “I’m looking for Miss Pierce, my landlady.”
Nick frowned. “Miss Pierce? I thought she never left the house.”
“She doesn’t usually.” Charlotte explained rapidly how Miss Pierce seemed to be lost and how Charlotte thought she might have come into Montoya’s earlier with her friend.
Nick shook his head. “She hasn’t been in here today. I’ve been on since school got out, and I haven’t seen her. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in here.”
Charlotte wondered whether Miss Pierce had just gone home. It was getting dark, and no one had seen her since Charlotte left her on the park bench more than an hour earlier. Even though Miss Pierce was an adult and didn’t need to check in, Charlotte was getting a little worried. Miss Pierce wouldn’t have left the park without telling her.
“Sorry, Char…I have to get back to work before my mother gets annoyed. We’ve been so busy today. Good luck finding her!” Nick called as he went back inside.
Time had slipped by and Charlotte realized that she had been gone much longer than she expected. It had gotten much colder, and it was almost completely dark. She said to Marty, “Come on, boy, we’ve got to get home fast. Dad’ll be really worried about us.”
She wrapped Marty’s leash around her hand, whistled to him, and in a minute they were running up Harvard Street and around the corner onto Beacon, toward home.
But Charlotte’s legs were much longer than poor Marty’s, and he couldn’t keep up with her. Besides, he was cold and hungry, just like Charlotte, and he began to yap unhappily. “All right, Marty.” Charlotte paused and picked up the little dog. “I know you’re too brave to be carried around, but we’ve got to get home fast. I’ll give you all sorts of treats and hugs when we get there, and I’ll wrap you in a warm soft towel so all the cold gets out of your fur….”
She was trying to think of other treats to keep up Marty’s spirits, when a car halted next to her. “Charlotte Ramsey,” called a female voice. “What are you doing out alone in the dark?”
Charlotte looked over at the car. It was Officer Sue Moody, safety officer for all the Brookline schools, who lived around the corner from the Ramseys. “Are you okay?” Officer Moody asked. “Do you want a lift?”
“Oooh, yes!” Charlotte cried, her teeth chattering. “Thank you, Officer Moody! We’re both freezing.” She picked up a shivering Marty and climbed into the police car. She was lucky Officer Moody had stopped; it was getting darker by the minute, and by now her dad was probably worried sick about her.
Part Two
Surprise Endings
CHAPTER
11
The Search Continues….
When Officer Moody stopped the car in front of the rambling yellow Victorian house, the lights went on immediately in the downstairs hall. Charlotte bit her lip.
“Dad must have been looking out the window for me.” Charlotte peered through the cruiser windows, glancing nervously at Officer Moody. She felt terrible that her father might be concerned. “You know, I was thinking about Miss Pierce so much, the time just got away from me. I never stopped to think that Dad might be worried about me….”
As they stepped into the hallway, Mr. Ramsey came flying down the stairs. He was running so fast, he missed the last step, tripped, and fell forward onto all fours. Scrambling forward a few steps on his hands and knees, he struggled to regain his balance. The effect was one of a giant human bug looking for food. Charlotte began to giggle, and even Officer Moody had to hold back a smile. Mr. Ramsey somehow managed to regain his balance and jumped up to wrap Charlotte in a big bear hug.
The klutz factor is obviously inherited, a bemused Charlotte thought.
“Charlotte!” Mr. Ramsey finally exclaimed. “Where have you been? Do you know how worried I was?”
Charlotte saw that Officer Moody’s eyes were twinkling, but the police officer pressed her lips together and said with great seriousness, “Mr. Ramsey, Charlotte’s been out looking for Miss Pierce. She seems to think that Miss Pierce may have—er—gone missing.”
Mr. Ramsey’s expression changed from relief to concern. Charlotte explained how she and Miss Pierce had walked to the park together, that Miss Pierce had arranged a meeting with her old astronomy professor, and then when Charlotte went looking for her, she suddenly seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
“Perhaps we should just check to make sure she didn’t return to her apartment,” Officer Moody suggested.
“I haven’t heard a thing, and I’ve been home for hours.” Mr. Ramsey looked doubtful. “Usually I hear her puttering around in the kitchen.”
“Well, maybe she’s come home but gotten sick,” the officer suggested. “Perhaps we should check to see if she’s there and needs medical attention.”
“Good idea.” Mr. Ramsey nodded.
Charlotte stared up at the safety officer. Did she really think Miss Pierce was ill?
When Officer Moody saw Charlotte’s unhappy face, she said, “Most likely, that didn’t happen, Charlotte! The truth is, Miss Pierce probably just got wrapped up in talking with her friend, and they decided to go somewhere to get a bite to eat and she lost track of time. Sometimes, you know, adults forget to tell people their plans, just the way kids do.”
“That’s just not like Miss Pierce.” Charlotte shook her head. Miss Pierce was a scientist; she was precise. She had an excellent memory and wonderful manners. And since she was shy and reclusive most of the time, wandering off from the house and especially the neighborhood was a strange occurrence. No, thought Charlotte. It didn’t add up.
But when they knocked on her apartment door and called out “Miss Pierce!” there was no answer. Mr. Ramsey dug out a spare key and cracked open the door. “Sapphire! It’s Richard Ramsey,” he said in a soft voice. The place was eerily quiet—no dramatic classical music playing, no sweet cookie smells coming from the kitchen. It was just an empty apartment…abandoned and lifeless. And that made Charlotte more worried than ever.
Officer Moody walked through the apartment, calling out for Miss Pierce. She checked all the closets, the bedroom, and the little landlady’s study. Miss Pierce was simply nowhere to be found.
Reluctantly, the three closed and locked Miss Pierce’s door and went upstairs to the Ramseys’ warm, cozy apartment. “Did you receive any telephone messages or e-mails?” Officer Moody asked Mr. Ramsey.
He shook his head. “No phone messages at all. I checked when I came in.” He went to his computer and quickly logged onto his e-mail account. “No. Nothing here that could be helpful. Just a few e-mails from a couple of my students.”
Officer Moody took a small notebook out of her pocket and turned to Charlotte. “Did you ask anyone who was near Miss Pierce in the park if they’d seen anything suspicious?”
Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t even thought to ask anyone in the park.
Officer Moody saw her stricken face. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. You’ve already done a lot of things right. You’ve eliminated some of the places where she could have been. There really wasn’t much else you could have done on your own.”
She turned to
Mr. Ramsey. “You might check with Ferndale Hospital. That’s the closest one. If there’s been an accident near the park, she’d have been taken there.”
Charlotte clasped her hands together as she watched her father dial the hospital number. Her eyes began to brim with tears. Miss Pierce truly understood her passion for the stars and her love of writing. Charlotte would be incredibly sad if something had happened to her quiet friend.
A few minutes later, her father put down the phone, shaking his head. “No one by the name of Sapphire Pierce was brought in today.” He looked pointedly at Officer Moody. “Should we be worried, Sue?”
Officer Moody hesitated. “Well, ‘concerned’ might be a better word. Miss Pierce is a responsible adult. She’s entitled to go off on her own. Maybe she’s just gone to a long dinner with her old friend. She could come walking in here at any time.”
But none of them really believed that. Even Marty’s furry little body began to droop with discouragement.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the downstairs door. “Miss Pierce!” Charlotte cried. They all rushed down the stairs, but Charlotte was there first, even before Marty. Yipping happily, Marty acted as though he knew it was Miss Pierce at the door.
Not so.
When Charlotte yanked open the front door, there stood Yuri the grocer with a bag in one arm. “Hello! I bring you beautiful fruit to eat. Come, get me knife. I cut up all these fruit for a big salad. I bring for Miss Pierce.”
Charlotte’s face, which had been bright with hope, fell in disappointment. “Oh, hello, Yuri. It’s…nice of you to bring that. But we don’t know anything more about Miss Pierce. She’s still missing.”
“Yes, yes.” Yuri had already managed to get inside the door, though Charlotte didn’t remember inviting him in. He had an air of suppressed excitement about him, which Charlotte couldn’t figure out. Yuri stepped forward and greeted the adults boisterously. “Hello, hello! Come. Yuri’s here to cut you some of tasteful fruit.”
Unsure what else to do, Mr. Ramsey led him upstairs to the kitchen, where Yuri commandeered the sink and unpacked a basket of plump strawberries, dark red cherries, oranges, and pears. He carefully washed them all in the sink, swiftly cut them up, and artfully arranged each slice on the small plates Charlotte brought out for him. Wow, thought Charlotte. Yuri’s fruit display looks like something a TV chef would do. She looked over at her father, who just shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the sudden bigheartedness of the bearish Russian grocer.
Once they were sitting, Yuri leaned on his elbows and dropped his voice confidentially. “You see me here now? I was most worried when Charlotte came today and tell me about Miss Pierce. She and I have tea and fruit together for years, every week. Not like lady to go off. Not like her to go out much! In fact, she never do go out!” He shook his head. “So I go to park myself. I walk up and down, tell people what she looks like—most beautiful lady—and ask if they see her.” He held out his hand as though to describe Miss Pierce’s size to a witness in the park.
Charlotte, biting into a luscious strawberry, suddenly had a thought that almost made her giggle out loud. Yuri called her “most beautiful lady”! Could Yuri have a real crush on Miss Pierce?
The others stared at Charlotte as she tried to stifle her giggle, only to end up hiccupping violently instead. Mr. Ramsey banged her on the back and Officer Moody went to the sink for some water. Finally, after one last enormous hiccup, she quieted down.
Yuri looked at Charlotte, his big bushy eyebrows furrowed with concern. “I finish important story now?”
Charlotte nodded vigorously. Her father and a skeptical Officer Moody waited for Yuri to continue.
Yuri described how he’d finally run into a group of young boys “on flying skates.”
The others looked at each other. Finally Charlotte interpreted what he meant. “Flying…you mean skateboards? With wheels?”
Yuri pointed a finger at her and nodded. “But exactly! These boys skate and fly through the air. Yuri like to try it some day. I ask boys if they see her. They say yes; they see her today.” Yuri pounded on the table again for emphasis.
Charlotte, Mr. Ramsey, and Officer Moody sat straight up. This was the first concrete news they’d heard of Miss Pierce in several hours. They all leaned forward, eager to hear the rest of Yuri’s story.
But Yuri was one of those people who needed to tell every minute detail. He took his time describing the boys, their hair, where they were in the park. An impatient Mr. Ramsey finally prodded, “Yuri, please, what did they say?”
“Yes, yes, Yuri is getting to point.” Clapping his big hands together in excitement, he revealed, “I ask skater boys where she go. They say she and gentleman get in big black car. They go with two men in black suits. The boys they say they sure these men are spies. Just like in movies. They say spies look around. They have…walkie tekkies. Yuri think skater boys are right.”
“Spies?” Charlotte finally found her voice. “Real spies? How would they know?”
“They describe look of spies all right. In Russia I see same KGB spies…spies all the same.” Yuri leaned forward conspiratorially and this time banged his spoon on the table. “They spy and look around. Not hard to find spies if you are looking like Yuri looks.”
Officer Moody opened her mouth to ask a question, but Yuri was intent on finishing his story.
“Maybe you doubt Yuri. But is more. I tell you.” Yuri hesitated to find the right word. “Boys say spies have gidgets.”
“Gidgets?” A puzzled Charlotte looked over at her father.
“Yes. Gidgets. You know, techno gidgets. Boys say to me, ‘Apple man, these is def spies. You stay far away from those dudes or they fly you away to Mars in a spaceship.’” Yuri looked at them appealingly. “Is all I know.”
There was silence in the kitchen as the four of them struggled to understand Yuri’s strange story. Charlotte was torn. Part of her wanted to laugh at Yuri’s funny use of the word “gidgets,” but she was too overtaken by one question. Was it possible that Miss Pierce was kidnapped by real spies? The thought made Charlotte feel queasy.
“Did the boys say there was a struggle, Yuri?” a suddenly stern Officer Moody asked.
“No, they don’t say nothing about that,” Yuri answered, his voice suddenly sad. Mr. Ramsey patted him on the shoulder. Yuri shook his head slowly. “What this mean then, people?” he asked no one in particular. “Is beautiful, small Miss Pierce a spy, too?”
CHAPTER
12
The Gossip Game
When she finished her homework, Isabel went online to see if any of the other BSG were still chatting. No luck. Nervous about all the gossip flying around about her, she decided to scroll down her buddy list and click on GLOWJO2. If anyone was gossiping it would definitely be one of the Queens of Mean.
“Oh no,” groaned Isabel. She could not believe what she was reading on Joline’s away message:
Isabel put her head in her hands. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. This was going to be way worse than she thought. Everyone will think I am the evil break-up queen.
CHAPTER 13
“If You Can’t Beat ’Em, Join ’Em”
Katani was the first of the BSG to arrive at Montoya’s Bakery in the morning. Ever the budding businesswoman, Katani tried to be on time for every appointment, even if it was just with her friends. She was hoping she could grab a word with Isabel before the rest of the BSG arrived. Today she wore a gorgeous, multicolored velvet long-sleeved shirt she had designed and sewn with some help from her grandmother. She paired it with stretchy black leggings and a sparkling amber necklace…and, of course, her favorite black boots. But fashion wasn’t on her mind this morning.
As Katani was studying the order board at the counter, she heard someone beside her say, “Hot tea, please. And a whole-grain sunshine muffin.”
Katani glanced over. It was Betsy Fitzgerald, of course, Abigail Adams’s resident type-A persona
lity. Katani groaned inwardly. Betsy was actually okay when you talked to her about normal things, but the minute the conversation turned to school subjects, she became kind of obsessive. Katani moved away a step, hoping Betsy wouldn’t notice her for awhile.
“You want butter on that muffin?” asked the girl behind the counter.
“No, thank you,” Betsy declared. “That’s very bad for your brain function, you know.”
Katani looked at the counter girl, who was clearly used to Betsy’s attitude, because she simply took Betsy’s money, handed her a receipt and told her to wait; her tea and muffin would be ready shortly.
As Katani stepped up to place her own order, Betsy moved down the counter.
“Hi, Bets,” Katani said. “Healthy breakfast, I see.”
Betsy nodded very seriously. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading about how what you eat for breakfast affects your actions for the entire day,” she pronounced.
Figures, Katani thought.
“And did you know,” Betsy went on, “that eating healthy helps the brain perform significantly better?”
“Oh really?” Katani said. Betsy sounded like she was about forty years old. Katani wondered what Betsy would sound like when she was forty.
“Oh yes,” Betsy went on. “Your neurons fire more smoothly when they’ve been primed with good breakfast foods. There’ve been lots of studies to prove it. Protein is best, of course, but unfortunately, Montoya’s doesn’t specialize in protein breakfasts.”
Katani wondered why Betsy came to Montoya’s at all, if that were the case. Everyone knew that the bakery specialized in big, beautiful pastries and delicious coffees, teas, and hot chocolates, not to mention Katani’s favorite, chocolate biscotti.
