Any operation can be terminated at any point. If something feels wrong, stop. Remove yourself from the situation.
— Rule Number 9 from Rules for a Successful Life as an Undercover Secret Agent
Built like the old Mount Rainier cabins of logs and stone, Gertie’s house looked like it had always been there. But while my house and the museum were both built in the 1890s, my aunt had designed and constructed her house just five years ago. Before that, she’d lived with us. The Star’s Tale took up the entire bottom floor, and Gertie lived upstairs.
I tried both the front and back doors of the Star’s Tale, but the knobs wouldn’t turn. I looked under the back doormat — no key.
As I was putting the mat back in place, a squish sounded nearby. It was like a footstep on wet leaves, and I panicked, darting around to the side of the house. I knew it could have been a coyote, raccoon, or even a deer this time of year, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I paused, pressing my back against the side of the building. Then came another squish. I walked up two steps of the outside staircase, then hesitated, listening for any sound louder than the beating of my heart. Ten seconds passed. Hearing nothing, I tiptoed to the top stair.
Squish, squish. Now it was clear: someone — or something — was walking right below me, loud and careless. I hoped it was a black bear, hunting for one last snack before hibernation.
I stood very still on the little landing outside Gertie’s door and attempted to shrink into the shadows. I tried the door — locked. My panicked breathing left fog on the glass pane.
Down below, around the corner of the house, someone shook the shop’s front doorknob with enough force to rattle its glass panes. “Do you think she knows anything?” Frank’s gruff voice gave him away.
“Not sure.” Stella’s voice had lost its edge. “Sometimes I think she’s cleverer than she looks, but then she goes and does something stupid.”
Were they talking about me? I willed Frankenstella to not look up.
“The Baies women — rocket scientists, all of them.” Frank guffawed as he walked around the outside of the café.
“Because the Baies men are so brilliant?” Stella snorted. “All your schemes combined have gotten us nothing. The Baies women may not be geniuses, but they own this museum, the silver, and the map. You have nothing.”
The map? I thought. What map?
“Hush up, Stella.” Frank’s voice grew fainter. “Go see if any of the windows are unlocked on the other side.”
As soon as the sound of squishing wet leaves grew softer, I tried jiggling the door handle again. Nope. I stared at the dark windows. I knew I had to get that cell phone, by any means necessary. I was sure Gertie wouldn’t call Sheriff Baker on me for breaking and entering, so I slipped my arm into my hoodie sleeve, bunching up the cloth around my fist. With as much strength as I could muster, I punched the glass pane in the front door. Nothing happened.
Come on Sunflower, you can do this.
I stepped sideways, twisted my torso, pulled my elbow back, and swung. Crack. The glass splintered. I stopped, waiting to see if Frankenstella would come rushing toward the noise.
When they didn’t, I pushed against the growing lines until the glass fell inside. I carefully snaked my arm through the window, unlatched the door, and then opened it, stepping over the shards of glass. I snagged a banana from the fruit bowl sitting on the kitchen counter and gobbled it as I inched my way down the hall and into Gertie’s bedroom.
I peered through a crack in the curtains, and seeing nothing suspicious in our joint backyards, parted the curtains to let in the moonlight. Stella cackled, but it sounded far away. I skimmed the bookshelf until I found Breads of Europe and pulled the phone out of its spine. The phone was just like mine with no screen.
I dialed the number, and as soon as it rang twice, I hung up, then redialed. After ten or so rings, I tried again, sure that I had the right number, but no one answered. Did Ms. Bow Tie somehow know that whoever was calling wasn’t Aunt Gertie?
Frank’s gruff voice was too low to make out his words. I went to stand by the window to eavesdrop.
“If we want to get in, we’ll need Mabel Opal’s help.” Stella sounded as if she was right below the bedroom window.
I shoved the cell phone into my jeans pocket.
“You mean Moppet?” Frank asked.
Stella chuckled. “What a terrible thing to call a child.”
“I don’t care what she’s called,” he said, “as long as she opens the museum for us.”
Uh oh! Time to go, Sunflower! I dashed down the dark hallway and out the front door, only slowing down to close it. Then I rushed down the staircase. After checking to make sure that Frankenstella were not nearby, I raced in front of the Star and the Spoon. My lungs were on fire as I ran up the front steps of my house. Sixty-eight seconds in total, beating my old record of seventy seconds flat from Aunt Gertie’s to my house.
Praying that no one had locked the door, I took a deep breath and tried the handle. Success. I darted into the front hall, my breath coming quick and shallow. The entire house was dark. Frankenstella were chattering as they approached the back door. I had to make it up the stairs, then I’d be home free.
I sprinted across the floor toward the staircase, but just ten feet from the first step, my foot hit something and I wobbled. The something moved, sweeping my leg out from under me. Splat — down on my face I fell.
Doors flung open, lights switched on, and suddenly I knew what that something was that I had tripped on. Victoria was lying on the floor, inches from where I’d landed.
“What are you doing downstairs, Mabel?” Stella shrieked.
“I — I — I…” I couldn’t think of a plausible lie.
“Relax, Mom.” Victoria rolled over to face her parents. “She’s helping me with my homework.”
“On the floor?” Frank asked, disbelief written all over his pudgy face. “In the dark?”
“I told you guys at dinner.” Victoria went straight to whine mode. “The science teacher wanted us to try to use our senses feeling around in a dark room. Remember?”
“Yes. Yes, I remember. Of course.” Frank shot a glance at his wife. “I didn’t think you were doing that tonight.”
“You guys never listen to me.” Victoria’s pout could’ve been adorable — on a three-year-old. She stood up and crossed her arms. “It’s my first day at a new school, and I want to get everything right. To make you proud.”
“Well, of course we’re proud of you.” Stella patted Victoria’s head like a puppy. “Did you get everything finished?”
“Nooooo.” Victoria grabbed my arm and pulled me up, rougher than necessary. “Mabel and I have to quiz each other on vocabulary words now.” She started climbing the stairs. I followed, since I was mightily attached to my arm.
“I want to talk to Mabel first,” Stella said.
“Da-a-ad.” Victoria let loose. “I have homework and Mabel has to show me how the teacher likes it.”
Frank put his hand on Stella’s shoulder and gave her the briefest shake of the head. “It can wait until tomorrow morning. Good night, girls.”