Samantha stood behind Nipper as they rode the moving walkway through Newark International Airport. Framed posters passed by, advertising museums, hotels, and Broadway plays. Between The Lion King and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a neon-green poster featured two hot-pink pyramids and a flying unicorn.
COMING SOON!
SECRET OF THE NILE
“Yuck!” said Nipper as they coasted along. “I’d rather be attacked by forty-eight ninjas than sit through something like that. It looks like a play that Buffy would make.”
Samantha didn’t bother to point out that it was the play their sister was making. She studied the garish ad. The unicorn floated above an obelisk. The poster receded into the distance before she could make out any more ridiculous details.
She faced forward and followed Nipper off the end of the belt. Automatic doors swung open. A woman with purple hair stood waiting with open arms, smiling from ear to ear. Aunt Penny.
“Oh…my…gosh!” she screamed, staring right at Samantha and Nipper. “Look at those two grown-up kids!”
She reached out and gave Samantha a pinch on her left cheek. It didn’t hurt, really. Samantha expected it. Her aunt had always been a cheek pincher. When Aunt Penny turned to do the same to Nipper, he stepped sideways quickly and pulled Samantha into his place. Aunt Penny kept moving and pinched Samantha a second time. Samantha wasn’t expecting that, and it was really annoying.
Aunt Penny used to be a professional shopper and treasure hunter in California. She helped everyone from museum directors to movie stars locate unusual, valuable, or just plain hard-to-find things. She helped a mystery writer buy a home that looked like a medieval castle. She tracked down a gold-plated salad spinner for a celebrity chef. She helped a candy museum curator locate the world’s largest lollipop. One time, she spotted an original print of the Declaration of Independence in an old frame at a yard sale. She was a pro with her metal detector or your million dollars. If your mind was made up and there was something you really, truly wanted, Penelope Spinner was the person to call.
Then, two years ago, she retired.
“I’m done shopping,” she told everyone. “The only treasure I’m looking for now is fun!”
She bought a purple car, dyed her hair to match, and hit the road in search of adventure across America. Some people—Samantha’s parents included—said they thought she was still out treasure hunting. But if so, Aunt Penny kept it a secret.
Samantha thought that her aunt was a little bit crazy, and that most of the things she helped people find were a waste of time and money. But everyone said her aunt was a four-star treasure hunter. And it was always fun to see Aunt Penny.
Samantha still remembered the purple convertible parked in front of their house the last time her aunt had passed through Seattle. She got to stay up all night playing Word Whammy! with Aunt Penny and Uncle Paul.
“Puzzle,” Samantha said, laying six cards on the table.
Uncle Paul studied his cards. Then he looked down at his pajamas and back at the table. He stole the P card from Samantha and added four cards of his own.
“Plaid,” he said.
Aunt Penny stared at her brother. She studied his green plaid pajamas and bright orange flip-flops.
“Hideous,” she said loudly.
Then she stole the I and D cards from him and added five of her own.
“One day, I’m going to help you buy some real pants and shoes,” she mused.
“I doubt it,” Uncle Paul said cheerfully. “Fashion is fleeting. Flannel is forever.”
Penny cupped her hand around her mouth and leaned over to Samantha.
“And little brothers are endlessly annoying,” she whispered.
Samantha usually sided with Uncle Paul, but that night, her aunt made a good point about little brothers.
After receiving a dozen hugs from their aunt, and their suitcases from the baggage carousel, Samantha and Nipper followed Aunt Penny to the parking garage. The little purple roadster took up half the space of an ordinary car.
“The trunk is full of fake Egyptian jewelry for your sister’s play,” Penny said. So they loaded their luggage into the front passenger seat.
Samantha and her brother squeezed into the back.
“Buffy will be so happy to see you two,” their aunt told them as she drove. “She’s been so upset since she used up most of her money. Now she has to watch every nickel and dime. It really breaks your heart.”
Samantha couldn’t tell if Aunt Penny was joking or serious. It was hard to imagine Buffy watching nickels and dimes, especially since she’d become a double billionaire.
“I’m here, out of retirement, just to help,” Aunt Penny continued. “Your sister has created some very big shopping challenges for me.”
The little car joined an endless stream of taxis, delivery trucks, and buses funneling into the Holland Tunnel.
“Sometimes, of course, brothers and sisters are what you need most of all,” said Aunt Penny.
Samantha was so excited to see Manhattan that she forgot about the purple sunglasses. They stayed in her purse as she took in the sights and sounds of the city.
They headed up the West Side Highway. On their left was the Hudson River, and on their right, the glittering Manhattan skyline. A huge, glowing skyscraper towered high above the others.
“The Empire State Building,” said Samantha.
“Is it always red, white, and blue?” asked Nipper.
“It’s lit that way for Memorial Day,” Aunt Penny told them.
To Samantha, all the shimmering buildings seemed magical. And so did the streetlights, billboards, and flashing video screens. Soon they were speeding along Central Park West. The walls of the park appeared on their right. On their left were brightly lit apartment buildings in an endless row.
One especially tall building came into view. It was a red brick apartment complex, at least forty stories tall. On top perched a sparkling blue castle. It was trimmed in neon and had a glittering tower rising at each side. A giant mirrored disco ball spun atop one tower. The other tower sported a unicorn flag.
Samantha knew only one person could possibly live up there.
“Buffy,” she said.
“I thought she spent most of her money,” said Nipper.
“She did,” Aunt Penny answered. “Poor thing. She’s down to her last three hundred and twenty-seven million.”
Samantha couldn’t care less how much or little money her sister had. Horace Temple—Paul Spinner—might be nearby.
They came to a stop in front of the building. Samantha noticed a man in a brown leather coat by the entrance. At first, she thought he was going to approach the car and help them out, but he just stood there, watching them. His lips were pressed tightly together. He looked irritated, or bored, or maybe both.
Aunt Penny hopped out of the car and opened the door for Samantha and Nipper.
“This is Nathaniel,” she said. “He works for Buffy.”
“I…I…am here to take you to your sister’s place,” he said, but he still didn’t step forward.
They climbed out of the car and waited for him to come help with their bags, but he didn’t budge from his spot by the door. He stood there and fiddled with a gold chain around his neck and continued staring at them.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Aunt Penny said with a laugh. “He doesn’t bite.”
She leaned over and hoisted their suitcases from the passenger seat. She carried them over to Nathaniel and waved for Samantha and Nipper to join them.
Nathaniel studied the bags carefully. Then he looked at Samantha again. He seemed suspicious.
“Arrrr…you sure that’s your complete luggage?” he asked.
Samantha nodded.
He squinted and looked at Samantha, then at her bag again.
“I…I…cer…tainly don’t want to miss anything.”
Samantha studied Nathaniel as he picked up the suitcases. He was definitely searching for something that was missing.
“That guy sure talks funny,” whispered Nipper.
Samantha nodded. Her sister’s helper definitely had a very strange way of talking—and walking, too. He lurched from side to side as he carried the suitcases into the lobby.
“I’ll see you two later,” said Aunt Penny. “I have to do some more shopping for your sister.”
She took out a small notebook and flipped to a page in the middle.
“Giraffe costumes, blue, with pink hooves,” she said. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Arrrrr…you coming?” Nathaniel called from the entrance.
“Go ahead,” said Aunt Penny.
Samantha watched her aunt walk back to her car, climb inside, and start the engine.
“Goodbye, you two,” she said cheerfully, and drove away.
Samantha and Nipper followed Nathaniel into a brightly lit lobby with marble floors and walls. Nathaniel paused, held out their suitcases, and let go. They dropped to the floor with a thud.
“Be a-carryin’ these yourselves,” he said. “It builds character.”
He tucked his gold chain under his shirt, crossed his arms, and waited.
“Character?” Nipper blurted. “How about you be a-pickin’ up our bags and start a-buildin’ some a-muscles and—”
Nathaniel stepped extremely close to Nipper, bent down, and looked him in the eye. He pushed up his right sleeve, revealing a huge bicep.
“Wish to repeat that, laddie?” he snarled.
Samantha noticed a skull and crossbones tattooed on the man’s arm. He continued to glare at her brother as he let out slow, raspy breaths that sounded like growls.
“Now that you mention it,” said Nipper, reaching for his suitcase, “I always prefer to keep my luggage with me.”
He faked a smile and picked up his bag quickly. Samantha picked up hers, too. Carrying her own luggage wasn’t a big deal. She was excited that she’d be seeing Central Park and Cleopatra’s Needle—and starting to look for Uncle Paul. Besides, if she had to work for Buffy, she’d be pretty grouchy and miserable, too.
Nathaniel led them through the gleaming white lobby. When they reached a set of elevator doors, Nipper tried to tap a button, but Nathaniel grabbed his finger and held it tight.
“It’s the freight elevator for you,” he said, and let go of Nipper’s finger. “Special instructions from Ms. Hydrangea.”
“Hydrangea?” Nipper asked, confused, and looked at Samantha.
She waited for him to remember.
“Who the heck is Ms. Hy— Oh, okay. I got it.”
When Buffy first got her billions from Uncle Paul, she decided to become a big movie star. She moved to Hollywood, California, and had her high school shipped along with her—building, kids, and all. And she chose Scarlett Hydrangea as her “fabulous movie-star name.”
Samantha didn’t think the name was fabulous. She thought it was ridiculous and clownlike. Then she thought about Nelly McPepper, the one girl Buffy had refused to bring with the school.
“Poor Nelly,” she said softly. “I wonder if we’ll ever find out—”
Nathaniel tapped her on the shoulder.
“Don’t dawdle,” he said. “Ms. Hydrangea is expecting you.”
He led them past the elevator and through a set of double doors. They entered a hallway that was much less fancy than the lobby. Years’ worth of scuffmarks covered the cement floor, and the walls were streaked with grime.
Every ten feet, wooden pallets lined the hallway. Each one had a dozen burlap bags piled on it.
“ ‘Candy corn,’ ” said Nipper, reading one of the bags as they passed.
“You sister wants to be ready for…the unicorns,” Nathaniel said dryly.
“I don’t think he believes in unicorns,” Nipper whispered to Samantha.
Nathaniel glared and led them down the long hall. At the end, they reached a cavernous space, cluttered with refrigerator-sized boxes and large wooden crates. Samantha counted a dozen black metal drums stacked three high.
“A vast…amount of material has arrived for your sister’s show,” said Nathaniel.
He pressed a button on the wall and machinery began to hum. He stood staring at the two kids as they waited.
Samantha looked at a nearby crate and read, “ ‘Bagpipes, fifteen count. Do not squeeze.’ ”
Nipper peered at the top of one of the metal drums.
“ ‘Glycerol,’ ” he read carefully. “ ‘Fifty-five gallons.’ ”
Nathaniel tapped the barrel.
“That’s fog-machine juice,” he said. “Horace Temple ordered it for the performance.”
“Horace?” said Samantha, getting excited. “Is he really gone?”
Nathaniel grunted but didn’t answer.
Samantha waited for him to say anything else about Horace. He fiddled with his gold chain for a moment. Then looked away.
“Glycerol,” Nipper repeated, looking at the barrel.
With a grinding squeal, the doors to the freight elevator slid open and Samantha inhaled the scent of grease and rubber. The elevator was crammed with tires, gears, and shiny metal tubing. There was barely enough room for her and Nipper.
“This is the only place to store the monster-truck parts,” said Nathaniel. “You’ll fit.”
Samantha and Nipper picked up their luggage. Samantha followed her brother into the elevator, squeezing between stacks of shiny hubcaps. She turned and looked back at Nathaniel.
“Why did Horace Temple order monster trucks, fog machines, and—”
“Apartment ahoy!” he shouted.
Nathaniel reached inside the elevator, pushed a button, and stepped back. The doors slammed closed, leaving the man on the other side, and the elevator lurched upward. Samantha looked at the long vertical panel with dozens of buttons. Nipper pointed to the glowing top button, labeled “PH.”
“Penthouse?” he asked.
Samantha nodded. Then she remembered her sunglasses. She took them from her purse, put them on, and studied the buttons as the elevator traveled up. The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Buffy stood waiting with open arms.
“Oh…my…gosh!” she screamed. “Look at those hideous purple glasses!”