We hurry up the stairs and push through the door into chilly air that tastes of impending rain. Stormy clouds darken the sky and blustery winds whip my hair, but I hardly notice the cold. As we sprint past the garden away from the castle and through the thick trees, all I can think about is the emerald king. It has to be in our tree house—right under our noses all along. But what if we’re too late and Angel has it?
Sprinkles dampen my clothes as we near the tree house. It’s the only tree on the estate that is as tall as a castle turret. All Angel had to do was look up to guess which tree is dense enough to hide a tree house—and possibly an emerald.
I hold my breath as we reach the driveway curving to our cottage, afraid I’ll see Angel running away with the emerald in her hand. But the only person I see is Becca, standing beneath the tree house. She’s holding something that brings a smile to my face.
“My spy pack!” I rejoice. “How did you get it?”
Becca gives it to me. “Angel had it.”
“She was already here?” My hopes crash.
“Yeah, and she was all smiles and hugs like we’re best friends.” Becca scrunches her nose. “She said you wanted me to take her to the tree house.”
“I did not say that!” I argue.
“I thought so.” Becca flips her ponytail over her shoulder. “So I played dumb and said, ‘What tree house?’ I pointed to your spy pack and asked what she was doing with it. She said you asked her to take your backpack to the tree house. That’s when I knew for sure she was lying. She called it a backpack not a spy pack. So I wouldn’t tell her anything, and she started to leave with your spy pack. That made me so mad that I—”
“You what?” I hold my breath.
“I grabbed the spy pack right off her shoulder.” Becca grins wickedly. “She was too surprised to stop me. She may be older, but I’m taller and stronger.”
Leo applauds. “Impressive!”
“I thought I’d never see my spy pack again,” I say hugging it.
“Funny thing is,” Becca adds with a giggle, “all the time she was demanding to go to the tree house, we were standing right under it.”
“Thanks, Becca. You not only saved my spy stuff but you may have saved the emerald king.” I reach for the slats. “Follow me!”
As we climb into the tree house, I tell Becca all about what happened in the cellar.
I open the trap door and rush across the room. I’m pushing the cooler aside so I can reach the nest when I hear an odd sound.
It’s coming from the animal trap!
“Becca!” I point. “Your trap worked! We’ve caught Bandit!”
I kneel down to peer through the slats. The ferret stares at us with frightened black eyes. She’s curled with her tail circling her small body like a protective shield.
“Poor baby is terrified. Let me calm her,” Becca says softly, bending over to the trap. “She’s been on her own for so long, it’ll take a while for her to trust humans again.”
“You take care of her. I’ll check the nest.”
Leo offers to help but I have only one pair of gloves. So he watches while I kneel down and look through the pile. Occasionally I find something worth saving: a quarter, an unscratched lottery ticket, three pens (only one works, Leo reports), two keys, and a blue rhinestone bracelet.
When my gloved fingers touch the planked floor, I groan.
The emerald king isn’t here.
My disappointment is like physical pain, bleeding hope and leaving a scar. I’d been so sure the emerald king was here.
I could clearly imagine Bandit carrying the chess piece out of the toy room window and scampering off to give it to RJ. Animals have a sixth sense and know where their people are, so I thought Bandit would have brought it to this tree house. I know from the evidence left behind that RJ was here preparing for a club meeting until his mother or father told him they were leaving. And then they were gone.
From what Angel said, Deidra tried to contact her father a few weeks later through a letter. But Angel intercepted the letter and probably any email, texts, or phone calls. As King Bragg’s executive assistant she could easily make sure father and daughter had no contact.
And her plan worked—until the CCSC started investigating.
But the emerald king isn’t here, I think sadly. And I don’t have solid proof to clear RJ of the theft. Will Angel’s confession to me be enough to convince King Bragg, or will he accuse me of lying again?
“Maybe RJ really does have it,” Leo says, tapping his finger to his chin, adding up the clues.
“His mother wrote that they didn’t have it,” I point out.
Leo arches a brow. “If you were in RJ’s place, would you tell your parents?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, remembering how awful I felt when my parents accused my kitten of destroying my sister’s homework and her shoe. “It’s hard to know what to think. Most of my information came from Angel.”
“And she’s a big fat liar,” Becca says.
Still I think Angel was telling the truth when she described Bandit taking the chess piece. So where did Bandit put the emerald?
I try to imagine every detail of that night and the sequence of events. Bandit carrying the emerald in her mouth, jumping through the window, scampering away from the castle to the person she trusted most. She had to be coming here. But then where is the emerald?
If Bandit gave the emerald king to RJ, wouldn’t he tell his mother after his grandfather accused him of being a thief? Why stand by silently while his parents packed up to move? He could have simply explained what really happened and returned the emerald—unless he didn’t have it.
I stare at the hole in the wall. It’s small and ragged with splinters, smaller than my hand but big enough for a ferret. Moving on instinct rather than logic, I bend down to the wood floor and shove my gloved hand into the hole.
I cringe, imaging cobwebs, animal scat, and other disgusting things that are probably on the other side of the hole. I feel something solid and pull out a purple glitter pen. It probably belonged to Angel. I wonder where she is now. I should hate her but I don’t. I feel sorry for her. Liking things more than people could get kind of lonely.
Frowning, I plunge my hand back into the hole. I feel the rough bark of a wide branch and reach out with my fingers. Inching along, I grasp something bigger than an acorn. My heart speeds up as I fold it into my palm.
When I bring my hand back inside, I stare at the green stone lying in my palm.
I’ve found the emerald king.
- Chapter 28 -
The Emerald King
When Becca, Leo, and I stand on the imposing castle steps a short while later, it’s like déjà vu—except Becca is carrying the ferret in a cage and I’m holding tight to the emerald king.
Leo bangs the knocker three times.
The door swings open. For a moment I expect to see Angel’s smiling face—until I remember she’s probably long gone by now. Why stick around for a future of orange jail jumpsuits when she can sun in a bikini on a tropical beach?
Irwin does a double-take when he sees us. “What are you kids doing here?”
“Righting a few wrongs.” I gesture to the ferret cage.
“There really is a ferret!” Irwin bends over to peer inside the age. “She’s awfully small to cause so much trouble.”
“She’s an adorable little thief,” Becca says fondly as she pokes her finger through the cage to pet Bandit. “We want to show her to Mr. Bragg.”
“And that’s not all.” I dramatically lift my hand.
Irwin’s eyes light up like fireworks. “The emerald king!”
“The ferret took it—not RJ. We’ve found out a lot of things Mr. Bragg needs to know.” I look at Irwin sympathetically, thinking of his feelings for Angel. “Will you take us to Mr. Bragg?”
“Terrible idea,” Irwin says, but he’s grinning. “Mr. Bragg has a fierce temper. I don’t know if he’ll be angrier because you’re back or
because he was wrong about RJ. Either way, it could be interesting.” Irwin opens the door wide for us. “Follow me. He’s in the music room.”
As we trail after Irwin, I fight the urge to run home. I dread facing Mr. Bragg again—especially when he’s still angry. But he needs to know the truth.
The music room is in one of the turrets. It has tall stained-glass windows, three shimmery chrome jukeboxes, and plush leather chairs and couches. When we enter the room, the largest jukebox is crooning mellow ’50s music—one of those Elvis Presley songs Gran Nola likes so much.
The King of Resorts is so focused on the framed photograph in his hand that he doesn’t notice us. He’s moving his lips as if he’s talking to the photo or singing to the music. His expression is sad—until he looks up and glares.
“Irwin, what is the meaning of this?” The photograph tumbles from his hand to a couch cushion as he bolts to his feet. “These kids are not welcome in my home.”
“They have something interesting to tell you.” Irwin stands tall and doesn’t back down. He may be a little nerdy but he’s not a wimp. “You’ll want to hear what these kids have to say.”
“I don’t want to hear…what’s in that thing?” He points to the cage.
“Bandit,” Becca says as she lifts her arm. “Please don’t shout—she’s already scared. Bandit used to belong to RJ. We trapped her in the…near Kelsey’s house.”
Becca glances at me, clearly not wanting to give away the secret of our tree house. (Though the owner of our house probably knows it’s there.)
“I told you a ferret has been stealing things,” I remind him.
Mr. Bragg bends over to look into the cage and frowns at the ferret. “If she belonged to my grandson, why didn’t I know?”
“Did you allow RJ to have pets in the castle?” I ask.
“Of course not,” he huffs indignantly. “I have far too many valuables to allow a rodent in my home.”
“A ferret is the domesticated form of the European polecat, a mammal belonging to the weasel family,” Leo corrects.
Mr. Bragg puts his hands on his hips, his frown deepening. “This animal proves nothing.”
“Does this?” I raise my hand to the light of the sparkling chandelier so the emerald king glitters like the valuable jewel it is.
“Where…Where did you get that?” Mr. Bragg staggers back.
I start at the beginning, leaving out the details of our tree house as I tell them about the ferret ruining my sister’s homework, finding the ARC papers, visiting with Gavin, and discovering two thieves.
“Your daughter found out and was going to tell you. But Angel framed RJ for the theft and you argued with your daughter. When your daughter moved away with her family, Angel made sure you couldn’t contact her.”
Mr. Bragg sinks back onto the couch and picks up the framed picture. Taking a closer look, I see he’s holding a family photo of a dark, bearded man with his arm around a beautiful raven-haired woman with the same brown eyes and round-tipped nose as the young boy beside her. RJ, I’m sure, but when he was only five or six. He has the same short curly black hair and wide smile as his father. They seem like a very happy family…at least when this photo was taken.
The jukebox switches to a soulful song about lost love.
“I was sure Dee would change her mind and come back,” Mr. Bragg says with a crack in his voice. “I’d lost my temper with her before but she always forgave me. But you say she wrote a letter?”
I nod. “Yeah, only Angel got the letter first.”
“She probably shredded it.” Mr. Bragg tightens his hand into a fist. “I trusted her with my business! I want that woman found and prosecuted. She destroyed my family!”
“She wasn’t the only one at fault.” Irwin frowns at his uncle. “You accused RJ of being a thief and ordered the family off your property. You could have just asked RJ if he did it, but you assumed the worst.”
Mr. Bragg sinks back into the couch, his anger fading to regret. “I shouldn’t have yelled at Dee. But I didn’t really expect her to leave. I tried to contact her and ask her to come back but I never heard back.”
“Angel betrayed us all,” Irwin says softly, patting his uncle on the shoulder. “But we need to accept blame for our actions too. I haven’t been honest with you.”
“Did you steal something too?” his uncle asks unhappily.
“No, but I found out Angel stole the pepper shaker, and I was going to put it back. I wanted to protect her…But she never cared about me.”
“Angel fooled everyone,” Mr. Bragg says sadly. “I understand protecting someone you love. Even when I thought RJ was guilty, I wouldn’t report the missing emerald. I’ve learned the hard way how much family means to me.” Mr. Bragg clutches the photograph to his chest. “If I knew where they were, I’d tell them I’m sorry.”
Becca whispers to me, “We should go.”
I nod, but I’m still holding the chess piece.
“This belongs to you.” I offer the emerald to Mr. Bragg.
“RJ loved this little king.” He looks down at the chess piece. “When he was six he said it reminded him of me. I laughed and told him he’d be the King of Resorts someday. And you know what he said?”
“Um…no,” I say uneasily.
“That he didn’t want to wear a crown. He’d rather be the knight so he could ride a horse.” Mr. Bragg chuckles sadly. “I taught him how to play chess, and he was a quite good—checkmated me a number of times. It was a shock when Angel said he’d stolen from me…My own grandson a thief.” His voice breaks. “I felt betrayed and I lost my temper…Yelled terrible things I regret. And now I’ve lost them all.”
“We’ll find them,” Irwin assures his uncle.
“But what if they won’t come back?”
“We can only hope they will.” Irwin sighs. “And if they don’t…well at least you have the emerald king. The chess set is complete.”
Mr. Bragg stares at the emerald in his hand. Even dusty, it shines with green prisms. But he tosses it aside. “I’d rather have my family.”
Leo, Becca, and I quietly move to the door and leave the study.
We follow the same path to the foyer. I’m eager to get out and go home.
But as Leo reaches to open the front door, I hear someone call my name.
Uh-oh! It’s Dad!
When I turn to face him, he’s wiping flour off his hands on his apron and glaring at me. “What are you doing here?”
I tremble under his harsh tone and forget how to speak.
“It’s all very exciting, Mr. Case.” Becca steps forward with a big grin as she holds up the cage. “Look what we brought.”
Dad stares at the ferret like it’s a unicorn. “How did you…What are you…There really is a ferret?”
“That’s what I tried to tell you,” I say softly.
“Kelsey, I’m so sorry.” Dad smells sweet like fresh bread as he slips his arm around me. “I should have believed you.”
“So I can keep Honey?” I ask hopefully.
“Of course you can.” He nods. “Assuming I don’t lose my job and we have to move again.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about your job,” I say, relieved. “Mr. Bragg won’t want to lose another employee.”
“Another?” Dad’s brows rise. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ll find out soon,” I say with a mysterious smile.
- Chapter 29 -
Club Mates
A few days later, on Sunday—the last day of Spring Break—Leo calls and says he has a surprise for me and Becca. His tone is quite mysterious and I wonder if that means he’s found a new mystery for the CCSC to solve.
Leo arrives at my house dressed more formally than usual in a new navy-blue vest with brass buttons, a long-sleeved blue shirt, dark black pants, and dress shoes.
Behind him, Becca winds up the driveway on her bike. She props the kickstand and rushes over to us.
“So what’s the my
stery?” she asks.
“Not a mystery, a solution,” Leo says with a knowing smile.
I gesture for him to come inside, but he shakes his head then strides over to the tree. “It’s up there,” he says.
Becca and I share curious glances then follow Leo.
He pops through the trapdoor and holds it open for us. As I climb inside, I glance over at the table and gasp—three teenagers are sitting at our table!
But actually it’s their table, I realize when I recognize Gavin. RJ’s hair is shorter than it was in the photo and he’s as tall as his grandfather. The girl is obviously Zenobia, and Gavin was right—she’s gorgeous. She holds herself elegantly as she stares back at me, twisting her thick black braid.
“Kelsey and Becca, meet my surprise,” Leo says proudly. “ARC members, Gavin, RJ, and Zenobia.”
“Everyone calls me Zee Zee.” She leans forward gracefully like she’s dancing while sitting down. “I’ve never been a surprise before.”
“Well I’m very surprised,” I admit. “I know we’re just now meeting, but I feel like I already know you. I hope you don’t mind that I read your club notes.”
“Not at all. Gavin told us you solved one of RJ’s codes too, without even using the code key.” Zee sounds impressed.
“Beware the little thief,” I repeat the code, realizing in a startling flash that I had the meaning wrong. “RJ, I thought your message was a warning that Bandit was the little thief. But you didn’t mean Bandit, did you?”
“No.” RJ regards me with a solemn expression that reminds me of his grandfather. “I wrote the code the morning Mom caught Angel wearing her sapphire earrings. Mom told me about Angel and said she was going to tell Granddad about her too. She didn’t want me involved, so she sent me home.”
“But you went here instead,” I guess.
“To get ready for our club meeting,” RJ says, nodding. “I wrote the code so Gavin and Zee could guess my secret about Angel. They knew I used to tease her for looking little—like a kid more than an adult.”
“But we never had that meeting. RJ didn’t know what was going on at my house,” Gavin adds bitterly. “And by the time I tried to see him, his family was already gone.”
The Secret of the Shadow Bandit Page 16
