Enjoy the small victories. They may be all you ever get.
— Rule Number 26 from Rules for a Successful Life as an Undercover Secret Agent
Victoria woke up extra cheerful Wednesday morning. For someone who was up most of the night before, she was way too upbeat. I felt like malicious fairies had glued sand in my eyes. Watching and re-watching the various videos of Victoria’s adventure until three in the morning wasn’t the brightest thing I’d ever done — along with breaking into the museum.
The weird thing was that I wasn’t sorry. It was fun, but more than that, Victoria was sort of amazing — both at acting and at editing her video. She had talent. However, there was still a possibility she was a double agent, so I wasn’t planning on spilling my secrets to her anytime soon.
Victoria bounded down the stairway and I followed. Frankenstella sat at the kitchen table in complete silence. The curtains were wide open, giving a clear view of the museum. There was the smell of burned coffee, like it had been brewed hours before.
Stella clutched my mom’s favorite big blue mug, looking as if she might rip it in two. “Mabel, the key or the code, now.”
It was just one more day until their mystery visitor was supposed to come, and I could tell they were getting stressed. “I can’t give you what I don’t have,” I replied curtly.
Victoria casually draped her arm around my shoulder. “She’s right, Mom.”
“There has to be a way in there.” Stella’s nostrils flared as she inhaled. She glared at her husband before turning her hard stare at me. “Do you know if all the windows are wired to the alarm?”
“Nope,” I lied. A thought hit me. “Why don’t you try opening one and see what happens?” I have to admit, I was curious to see if PNW Security would show up.
“No, we can’t.” Frank shook his head. “Does anyone else have keys?”
“No,” I said, but a nagging doubt wiggled into my mind. I assumed no one else had keys or knew the security code, but I’d also assumed my parents hadn’t found the red suitcase, and turns out, it had been sitting in our basement all this time. I guess I should’ve paid more attention to Rule Number 29: Anticipate surprises. No one — not even a supergenius — knows all the facts.
“Mabel, do you remember anything about the company that installed the security system?” Frank asked.
“Nope.”
“Did PNW Security come from Silverton? Bluewater? Seattle?”
“I don’t know.” And I didn’t know if PNW Security was my friend or foe. Right now, they were Frankenstella’s foe, so that gave them points in my friendship book. Yet, it wasn’t like I could trust PNW. I assumed they were a Cleaners’ shell company, doing good work, but there was no way to know for sure. Roy had said that no agents were assigned to Silverton, but he could’ve been wrong.
“Is there anyone else your mom would have trusted?” Frank asked. “Like a neighbor or a friend?”
“Aunt Gertie,” I said. “Why don’t you ask her?”
Frank and Stella just looked at each other, their faces tense with worry.
“What’s so important in there, anyway?” I asked. I enjoyed poking them, knowing they were going to lie to me.
“Yeah, Mom. It’s just a bunch of old spoons.” Victoria squeezed my shoulder. “What’s so important in there?”
“Never mind,” Uncle Frank said, shoving granola bars into our hands and ushering us toward the front door. “Isn’t it time for the bus?”