“WHERE IS ESME? AND COCO? AND SNOWBALL?!”
Sir Thomas Browne shouts name after name. I’m guessing those bunnies were all meant to be in his act. The magician is a mess on the floor, searching for his beloved bunnies. There’s not a shred of English nobility or the like from him, which makes the scene even more jarring.
“Who took her?”
Sir Thomas Browne has tears in his eyes, and that’s my cue to get a handle on this situation. I run up to the stage and make a quick announcement.
“Folks, this show is at its end. Another magical performance can be found right across the way.” I point to another show being conducted at the same time. “If you head over now, I’m sure you’ll be able to catch the final act.”
Diane is down on her knees, helping Sir Thomas Browne in his search.
“When’s the last time you saw Esme?” Derek is behind me, already interviewing the distraught Sir Thomas Browne. I’ve got to put a stop to that. He’s not the assistant house detective. I am!
“Derek, I think it’s best you let me handle this,” I say. “Why don’t you go catch the next show?”
Derek places his hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t think you understand. There won’t be another show unless we find the culprit.”
He may have a point. Still, it doesn’t mean he’s in charge of the Case of the Missing Props. It’s never a good thing to allow a guest to be a part of the investigation. I mean, who’s to say Derek Von Thurston is innocent? For all I know, he may be the culprit!
I kneel down to Sir Thomas Browne’s level and offer a handkerchief for his tears. “I’m so sorry for this mix-up, Sir Thomas.”
“You can call me Serge,” he says. “The bunnies are my family, know-what-I-mean? True family.”
Now that I’m this close to Sir Thomas Browne, I can see how the English accent obscured his full-on New Yorker feel. Magicians are such interesting chameleons.
“What should we do?” Diane asks.
“There is something definitely happening at the Crossed Palms Resort,” I say. “Mysteriousa was onto something. Sabotage may be at play.”
“Mysteriousa?” Diane asks.
“Sorry, long story. I’ll fill you in later. First, let me find Walt. Do you mind looking after Sir Thomas—I mean, Serge?”
I hop off the tiny stage and head into the hotel. No time for dillydallying. There are missing rabbits to rescue.
Hot on my heels is none other than Derek.
“Bunnies aren’t an easy prop to steal,” he says. “I think the first course of action should be to secure the perimeter and send out a search party.”
“No, that’s not what we’re doing. You’re a guest and should be relaxing,” I say, trying to maintain an even tone. Derek’s insistence on being my assistant is making it so hard for me to be Walt’s assistant! “Did you know our resort has amazing pools? We do—we even have an Olympic-size one. A good soak in the pool would do wonders for a world traveler such as yourself.”
Derek pulls out his pad. “Interesting reaction. I don’t know many establishments that would ignore the catastrophe unfolding right before their eyes.”
Oh no. Is he implying I’m not doing my job? I stop and turn to face him. He flashes a smug smile. His hand grips his pencil, ready to jot down whatever I’m about to say or do. Mom told me I should find compassion for Derek. He travels a lot and has to find ways to overcome his father’s looming shadow. But this is too much.
“Now hold on one second, Derek. If there’s one thing that’s true about me above anything else, it’s that I am solely dedicated to taking care of each and every person at the Crossed Palms Resort. That includes the bunnies, Serge, Professor Blaze, the movement magician, the Sorceress, and even you, Derek Von Thurston.”
My voice may be carrying a bit in the hotel lobby because, before I can continue, Walt appears beside me.
“Is there a problem here?” he asks.
I want to scream, Bugs Bunny and his family are missing, and Derek is questioning my job performance! But before I can give Walt the lowdown, Derek starts talking.
“You bet there is,” he says, tapping his notepad. “The Case of the Missing Props has escalated to a full-on assault against magicians.”
Walt looks like he’s about to faint. Not only is Derek speaking way too loudly, thus drawing attention from onlookers scattered throughout the lobby, but he seems to be enjoying it.
“Walt, another incident has occurred,” I say calmly. “Missing rabbits out in the garden.”
Without any further explanation, Walt heads to the scene. Derek and I tag along behind him. In the garden, Diane and Sir Thomas Browne—Serge—are sitting at the edge of the stage. Serge dabs at his face with the handkerchief I gave him.
“How can I help?” Walt asks, and Serge recounts the whole trauma. Poor Serge. He loves those bunnies. Esme, Coco, and Snowball aren’t just objets d’art. They are family.
“Where can they be?” he asks, trying hard to not break down again.
“We’ll find them. We promise,” Walt says. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to ask you a few more questions.”
I give Diane a nod and we take a few steps away from Walt and Serge. Derek doesn’t take the hint, so I have to kind of nudge him away.
“Poor guy. What a horrible thing to happen,” Diane says. “He’s taken care of those bunnies since they were tiny. They live in a small house up in South Brooklyn. Bensonhurst, I believe.”
“Did he tell you if he has any enemies?” Derek asks.
Diane cocks her head to the side. “Actually, he didn’t because he was too busy being upset. Like we all are.”
“Will you excuse us, Derek?” I say, pulling Diane away. Derek nods and continues to scribble in his notepad like a roving reporter.
“Wow. He’s a little intense, isn’t he?” Diane says.
“You can say that again,” I say.
This has got to be the worst date ever. First, I had to cancel our romantic dinner. Then I took her to a magic show only to be a witness to foul play and Derek’s incessant chattering. Everything about this date smells like a complete dud.
“I’m really sorry about everything. It looks like I have to work. I understand if you want to head out early.”
Diane smiles a great big smile. “What are you talking about? I’m having the best time ever. Not only did I get to see wild magic being performed, but I’m right in the midst of a full-on mystery. I want to see this thing through just as much as you do.”
My heart surges. Diane’s right. Maybe this isn’t so horrible. Our time together is full of action, intrigue, and even a little drama, courtesy of Derek.
“Thanks, Diane. I’ll wait to see what Walt wants to do next. If only I had a clue as to where the bunnies went.”
Diane looks to her left and right. “I didn’t want to share this in front of Derek, but look at what Serge found.”
Diane shows me a small hourglass.
“Serge swears he’s never seen it before in his life. He doesn’t use timers in his act.”
Holy sand crystals. What does this mean? The person, or persons, committing these acts is leaving behind clues. This is someone who either wants to be caught or wants to outsmart the masses.
“It’s as if the culprit is letting us know we’re running out of time,” I say.
“Or maybe that you’re getting closer to the truth,” Diane says. We both eyeball the timer and find nothing on it. No etches or initials. It doesn’t even smell like anything—it’s just a simple hourglass.
“The guilty party is speaking to us with these clues,” I say. “I just need to find out how to decipher them.”
“Goldie!”
Rob barrels over to us, screaming and waving his hands.
“Goldie! I’ve been looking all over for you,” he says. He’s out of breath and unable to formulate sentences.
“Breathe, Rob, or you’re going to collapse right here and now,” I say. I can’t have missing bunnies and a fallen Rob.
“No time to breathe. Mr. Maple is heading over here, and he’s on a rampage.” Rob points back in the direction he’s just come from. “It’s him and Dr. Von Thurston. They’re looking for you both.”
“They’re looking for me?” Diane asks. “I don’t even know who they are.”
Rob is holding on to his knees, trying to take in big breaths.
“No, Goldie and Walt,” he says. “And hi, Diane. How’s”—he gulps down some air—“it going?”
“No complaints, Rob,” Diane says. “You should probably sit down.”
“No time.”
This is not good. Dr. Von Thurston and Mr. Maple are heading this way. Cheryl is in front of them, shaking her head vigorously in warning. Unfortunately, I have nowhere to run or hide.
“Well, Goldie, it looks like news travels fast,” Derek says, now patting Rob on the back. “If you think I’m thorough, just wait until you hear from my dad. They don’t call him the Renowned Showman for nothing.”
“Dr. Von Thurston is walking over to us, and I don’t know if I can make it,” Rob says. Diane holds him upright. Serge lets out another moan over his lost bunnies, and Cheryl’s eyes are about to bulge out of her head.
So much is happening I don’t even know where to concentrate.
“Time’s up,” I say, and flip the sand timer.
The storm is about to hit.