Hauntings and Heists (10 page)

“A clue to the mystery of the tunnel …,” Woodrow whispered, dragging his rake behind him as he began to wander around the yard.

“What could it be?” said Rosie, swiveling swiftly on her heels, turning toward each compass direction, trying to decide which way to walk.

Sylvester stood still and closed his eyes, as if what he saw in his mind was more powerful than what was all around him.

Viola simply crossed her arms and smiled. She knew they’d figure it out eventually.

Can you?

Rosie suddenly spun, facing the street beside Viola and Sylvester’s house, along the northwest quadrant of their yards. “You guys!” she called. Woodrow and Sylvester rushed over to her. She whispered in their ears, then they all whipped their heads toward the maple tree near the road—the one where they had come together for the very first time on the day Viola moved to Moon Hollow.

Slowly, the three of them walked to the tree. Viola followed not far behind, unable to make out what they were saying to one another. Finally, standing at the base of the maple, they all met again.

“So?” asked Viola. “What do you think?”

Rosie pointed up, at where someone had long ago carved initials into the bark.

N. R.

+

F. B.

“And?” said Viola, smiling.

“They’re Nelson Reynolds and Fiona Hauptmann!” said Sylvester.

“Actually,” Woodrow said, patting the tree trunk, “it would have been Nelson Reynolds and Fiona Branson, right, Viola? That’s what you said her name was originally, before she got married.”

“Uh-huh. So what does that mean?” Viola asked, teasing them.

“It means that when they were young,” said Rosie, “they were in love.” The boys gave her a funny look. “Or something. They carved their initials into the tree trunk to prove it to each other.”

“Yeah,” Sylvester added. “But they didn’t end up together. Fiona got married to someone else.”

“Right,” said Woodrow. “To Mr. Hauptmann, who died a long time ago. She ended up alone. Or so everybody thought.”

“And the tunnel?” Viola said.

The group thought for a few seconds. Then Rosie spoke up. “Obviously, they both knew about it. They lived most of their lives in these two houses.” She pointed up the hill. “Maybe they
weren’t
alone. We know that Nelson was secretive and kept to himself. What if, when they grew older, they fell in love again? Maybe they used the passage to travel between their homes.”

Woodrow added, “That’s why the tunnel was wired with light sockets!”

“Then,” Sylvester said, excited, “when Fiona passed away, new people moved into her house. They must not have known the secret passage existed. At night, they could hear Nelson moving around through the tunnel. Maybe he thought if he looked hard enough for her, he’d find her again. That’s got to be why people claimed Viola’s house was haunted. Both of the Reynolds brothers have been freaking out the new owners for the past few years!”

Viola was silent for a few seconds, admiring her new friends. Then she spoke. “That’s what Vincent told me. Or at least the part about Fiona and Nelson being together once they got older. They acted like a married couple — they actually shared the houses. I doubt Vincent knew much more than that, since his brother was such a mystery to everyone. But you guys were right. This tree was the final clue to the haunting of the Hart house.”

Just then, Rosie’s father called to her from his back patio. “Hey! The lawn’s not going to rake itself!”

Rosie was mortified. “He was kidding…. I think.”

“Maybe we should get to work,” said Viola. “My mom did promise us pizza if we fill ten bags.”

“Only ten?” Sylvester scoffed. “I can fill twenty!” The others glanced at one another, raising their eyebrows.

“You go right ahead,” said Woodrow. “We’ll keep count.”

“Har-har-har,” Sylvester answered, dragging his rake across the roots of the tree. “Did I mention I can also eat a whole pizza? There might be none left for you.”

“That’s what you think!” Woodrow raised his rake and said, “En garde!” The two boys began to spar.

“Boys!” whispered Rosie to Viola, rolling her eyes and leading the way back to the place where the four yards met. That’s where they started clearing away the leaves, pulling hard against the stubborn grass.

The kids worked all afternoon, until the day grew dark, filling bag after bag with fallen leaves. Finally, they had only enough leaves to form one last pile. Rosie held a bag open, and Sylvester was about to scoop the pile inside when a gust of wind raced through the yard, scattering their work across the grass. Woodrow chased after the mess with his rake, as if he could stop what had already happened. The wind carried most of the leaves out to the street, where they scuttled and eddied toward town, swirling and
dancing past houses and shops, street signs and parked cars, across the train tracks that led south to the big city, then farther, out to the river.

Viola and her friends watched as the streetlights blinked on all around them, illuminating the shadows of Moon Hollow. Still, most of the buildings down the street remained dark. Viola wondered how many secrets were hidden inside them. If the number was even half as large as she imagined, she knew the Question Marks would be busy all autumn long.

Halloween crept up slowly on the residents of Moon Hollow. On Viola Hart’s street, evidence of the holiday had begun to appear at the beginning of October. Some of her neighbors had taped cardboard cutouts of shrieking spirits in their windows. Others had stretched fabric cobwebs across their fences and shrubbery. As the haunted day approached, bigger and scarier ornaments had manifested: Cardboard tombstones sprang from front yards, plastic skeletons were hung from porches, and the spooky flickering glow of jack-o’-lanterns illuminated the front steps of houses throughout the neighborhood.

In addition to decorating their own homes, the Question Marks Mystery Club had decided to celebrate Halloween by competing together in the costume contest at school. The group had agreed to go as characters from
The Wizard of
Oz.
Together, they had a good shot at winning the prize: free copies of assorted mystery books.

As Dorothy, Viola was in it to win it.

Viola had spent almost a week obsessing over the details of her costume. With the help of her mom, she had searched the Main Street stores for the perfect blue plaid dress, white stockings, and ribbons to tie her hair into two tight braids. She’d even found an old junk-shop picnic basket, similar to the one in which Dorothy carried Toto. She hoped these items would turn her into the most convincing Dorothy Gale that Moon Hollow had ever seen. Never mind the shock of curly red hair on her head or her pale face full of freckles; she planned to fully embrace the character and force the judges to overlook those slight discrepancies.

But what would ultimately blow the judges away, Viola was certain, were her glimmering ruby red shoes — bargain flats that she had transformed into the most glamorous, magical element of the entire look, simply by applying sparkly plastic gems.

When she stepped out onto her front porch on Halloween morning and observed the clouded sky, she was gripped by the sensation that somewhere nearby a tornado might be brewing, ready to whisk her away to a land of excitement and adventure.

Sylvester, Rosie, and Woodrow had promised that their costumes would be as magnificent as she’d planned hers to be. But when she saw them at their meeting place on the street, she was less than impressed. Sylvester, the Tin Man, had simply put on a gray sweat suit and added silver spray to his already spiky hair. That was it? Rosie, the Scarecrow, wore an ordinary pair of jeans and a purple plaid shirt with some straw sticking out of the collar and sleeves. Inadequate! Woodrow, the Cowardly Lion, was dressed in a brown sweater and worn-out corduroys. His large key chain still rattled at his hip. He wore a little rubber mask that covered only his nose and upper lip and that made him look like a cat. A cat?! He didn’t even have a tail! Pathetic.

Her friends saw Viola’s face and knew she was upset. “We didn’t have a lot of time,” Rosie offered as they began their walk to school. “I’ve had so much homework lately.”

“Us too,” said Woodrow. “Sorry, Viola.
You
should win the contest. Your costume is great. We don’t have to go as a group like we planned.”

Viola could not contain her disappointment. “I thought we agreed that we would all be awesome today,” she said, understanding how ridiculous she sounded and not caring one bit.

Sylvester sighed and glanced at Rosie and Woodrow. “We should just tell her, you guys.”

“Tell me what?”

“We wanted it to be a surprise for after school,” said Rosie, throwing Sylvester a look of doom. “But since it’s already spoiled, maybe we should just go ahead now.”

Woodrow pulled his cat nose up and strapped it to his forehead so he could speak clearly. “For the past few years,” he said, “someone in Moon Hollow has been going around stealing Halloween candy from trick-or-treaters.”

“Really?” said Viola, all of her disappointment instantly falling away. “That’s so cruel.”

“Instead of working on our costumes for the past few days,” said Sylvester, “we’ve actually been organizing a plan of attack so that we can finally catch the thief and end his reign of Halloween terror on the elementary-school crowd.”

Rosie scratched at her wrist, where a long piece of straw was tickling her. “We’ve analyzed the places where the candy thief has struck before and discovered a pattern. In the late afternoon, he starts close to the high school on Bascomb, picking off kids, stealing their treats. They run home crying. Horrible. The attacks follow a pretty straight path, up Main Street,
through some of the side roads, and ending near Deerhof Park, not far from where we live.”

“Wow,” said Viola. “It has to be a high-school student who lives nearby. I can’t believe the thief would be so obvious. Is he begging to get caught?”

“If he is,” Woodrow added, “this might be the year he gets his wish.”

“Yeah,” said Sylvester. “Moon Hollow has never had a mystery club to stop him before.”

Viola chuckled as she distractedly swung her wicker picnic basket and walked onward toward the school. Costume contest? What costume contest? The Question Marks finally had more important matters to attend to.

Kyle Krupnik ended up winning first place for his velociraptor fossil costume. The most impressive part was the tail he’d constructed out of paper-towel tubes, which he’d painted white and strung together. Viola thought he deserved his prize — the costume was definitely one of the most creative in the school. And she was okay with not getting the mystery books she’d originally hoped for, if only because she now had a mystery of her own to solve.

After the last bell, the four ran into Kyle just
inside the school’s main entrance and congratulated him on his victory. “Thanks,” he replied. “Are you guys going trick-or-treating?”

“Naw,” said Woodrow, “we’ve got other plans. How about you?”

“Yeah,” said Kyle, “I’m going with Seth Yarrow up near the college to see what kind of loot we can get. Usually, the professors are pretty generous. This is one of my favorite holidays.”

A tall shadow loomed up from behind Kyle, a figure covered in a black sheet.
“This is one of my favorite holidays,”
a voice inside the sheet mimicked with a mock-squeaky voice.

Viola would have recognized him with her eyes closed. Mickey Molynew. “Clever,” she said. “You always have a witty comment, Mickey.” She felt relatively safe standing in the hall near the principal’s office. Besides, she had never seen Mickey fight with a girl. Not yet anyway.

“I’ll give you a witty comment,” said the black sheet. He was silent for several seconds, then he blurted out, “Shut up!” He fluttered out the door and down the sidewalk, turning onto Bascomb Street toward the high school.

“We’re not in Moon Hollow anymore, Dorothy,” Rosie whispered, paraphrasing a famous line from
The Wizard of Oz.

“We aren’t?” said Sylvester, faking confusion.

Rosie shook her head. “Oh, Tin Man, maybe
you’re
the one without the brain.”

“Mmm,” Sylvester groaned in a low voice. He raised his arms, wiggling his fingers toward Woodrow’s head. “Me want brains!” Woodrow lightly elbowed Sylvester in the ribs and shushed him.

Kyle snorted a laugh and waved good-bye. “See you guys tomorrow. Good luck with … whatever you’re doing tonight.” He strolled away down the sidewalk, his dinosaur tail dragging behind him.

“Okay,” said Woodrow, pulling a piece of paper out of his back pocket. When he unfolded it, Viola noticed it was a hand-drawn map of Moon Hollow. She understood now why her friends’ costumes were so bland — they had been working hard on this project. “As soon as the sun starts to go down, we need to pay attention at these spots.” He indicated four points on the map that he’d marked with big black dots. “Bascomb Street. Main Street. The alleyways around the corner. And the gazebo near Deerhof Park’s entrance.”

“I’ll take Bascomb,” said Rosie.

“Wait a second,” said Viola. “We’re splitting up?”

“I’ll do Main,” Sylvester added.

“The alleyways are mine,” said Woodrow. “So that leaves the gazebo for Viola. And yes, our plan is to spread out so we can observe as much of the candy thief’s path as possible.”

“What if he’s dangerous?” Viola asked. “What if he attacks one of us?”

“We’re not going to confront him,” said Woodrow. “We just need to catch him in the act. We’ll stay hidden and keep watch.” He opened his book bag and removed three plastic disposable cameras. “These are for you guys. I’ve got my own digital mega-zoom with me.” He handed the cameras to the group. “We just need proof. Right, Viola?”

“I … guess so,” she said.

“Perfect,” said Woodrow. “We’ll meet back at the Four Corners at seven-thirty to share what we caught. Okay?”

Viola quickly nodded. “Great surprise,” she said more quietly than she intended.

At home, Viola tucked the picnic basket away in the garage, then grabbed her helmet and her bike. It felt weird to ride while wearing the plaid dress, especially with her fall coat on top.

Just as the sun disappeared, she located the gazebo in Deerhof Park that Woodrow had mentioned. The white wooden structure was in a
forlorn location, far from the road. There weren’t any houses around that she could see. Briefly, she allowed herself to consider that if any kids decided to trick-or-treat in this deserted area, maybe they shouldn’t be surprised to have their candy stolen.

She laid her bike down on the grass to keep it out of view of the nearby path. Then she tried to get comfortable sitting on the steps at the rear side of the gazebo, gripping the camera as if the candy thief might sneak up behind her and try to snatch it away.

As night came along, Viola shivered. A street lamp lit the grass farther away, but most of the park was in bone-chilling shadow. She eventually tucked her legs up close to her chest to keep warm. She listened as small animals made small sounds in the surrounding grass. At least, she
hoped
they were small animals. A few cars passed by farther away near the road, but other than that, the place was deserted. Viola wondered if she’d made a mistake — maybe this was the wrong gazebo. She checked her watch. The night was creeping up on her and she was hungry. Seven-thirty was still a while away. She couldn’t imagine waiting around here until then.

Viola heard footsteps. On the grass near the road, someone was walking. She listened intently,
secure in the belief that she was hidden well enough out of sight to spy discreetly. Part of her wanted to call out, to see if the person was someone she knew. But she couldn’t risk revealing herself if the footsteps belonged to the candy thief. Viola felt her skin prickle as the sounds shuffled closer and closer. She wished she had a flashlight, but the only light nearby was attached to the plastic camera in her hands. She held her breath and tried to remain calm.

Peering over the edge of the gazebo’s floor, Viola could finally see the figure near the street. He was walking funny, stiffly, shambling as if injured, dressed in what looked like a long cloak that dragged on the grass. She immediately had an idea who the candy thief was. She’d encountered someone at school that afternoon who was wearing a similar costume: Mickey Molynew and his big black sheet. Ugh. Wait until her mom heard about this! Mickey would be all over the
Gazette.
The cloak was now open at the top, so his head poked out. Even so, Viola could not make out details of Mickey’s identity: his bulbous nose; his unibrow; his thin, sharp lips. A flash would help. She raised her camera, determined to catch his face on film. But she didn’t push the button. In fact, what she saw caused her to lower the camera, her heart pounding.

There wasn’t one person moving alongside the road, but four. They all wore similar black coats.

Maybe this
wasn’t
Mickey. He’d left the school alone, and yes, he’d turned onto Bascomb, one of the sites where the candy thief had a history of striking. But did Mickey even
have
three friends with whom to collaborate?

So, if it wasn’t Mickey out there, who was it? Trick-or-treaters? If so, why were they walking as if they were … unwell? And why weren’t they talking to one another? None of them appeared to be carrying sacks of loot, so they most likely were not candy thieves either. This made them all the more creepy. Viola leaned forward, as if that might help her pay closer attention. The figures moaned, and goose bumps sprang up all over Viola’s skin. She listened as another noise echoed in the shadows — a jangling sound, like chains. Was one of them tied up? A captive?

Moments later, the strange four were almost directly in front of the gazebo, walking slower and slower. It almost seemed as though they knew she was hiding there. Viola didn’t know how much longer she could take it. She was desperate to take a picture of them, but she knew that as soon as she did so, she’d give herself away. And she wasn’t certain she wanted
to be noticed by these people. Not tonight. Not ever.

Soon, they were close enough for Viola to make out some details. One of them seemed to have something white in his hair. Cobweb? It gleamed in the light from the streetlamp. Another of them appeared to have crawled through tall grass — a piece of it was sticking out of his collar. A third was dragging something along behind him. It looked like a skeleton.

Viola’s immediate reaction was to want to run away as fast as she could. But then she had a strange idea. In order to prove it, she’d need to get closer. She paused and thought some more. Clutching the camera, she stepped up onto the gazebo’s platform.

The four stopped moving. Then all at once, they turned to look at her, their faces obscured by shadow. Viola felt her stomach drop somewhere deep into her body. The four figures dashed at the gazebo. She had to think quickly. She was almost certain she knew who these creeps were. But almost being certain wasn’t going to protect her. The figures reached toward her. In a low, scratchy voice, one of them whispered, “Brains …”

Viola pressed the camera button. The light flashed at the four figures as they glared back at
Viola. Stunned, they froze, blinded and dazed by the camera. Viola began to laugh. “Nice try, you guys,” she said.