THE COLD IS GETTING TO DEREK AS WELL. I CAN TOTALLY hear his teeth chattering. The thumping sound is becoming louder and louder with each step. The amount of stuff “stored” down here keeps increasing to the point that we have to be extra careful not to stub our now-bare toes.
I see a very dim light at the far end of the corridor. Strange how, in the dark, your peepers search for a luminous glow like a moth. My legs find their courage to continue and so does Derek.
When the light becomes slightly brighter, we slow down but keep inching closer and closer. The light emanates from a door left ajar.
“Look, you three. I got you some water. I don’t have time to get you food, too.”
Evan! As soon as we hear his voice, I stop moving. A dresser covered in the thickest layer of dust is located across from the door. I drop to the ground and make myself real acquainted with the floor.
To my surprise, Derek does the same. His yellow suit will never recover! I’m used to playing in the dirt. There are tons of pictures documenting my adventures in soil and muck. You can’t be too worried about appearances when you are sleuthing. Plus, my outfit has mud caked on it from my stakeout in the planters. One more stain won’t change anything for me. Poor Derek. His yellow suit is toast.
We crouch down behind the dresser. In the shadowy hallway, Evan can’t possibly see us, but his bright blond hair practically glows from what little light is emanating from the room. Because it’s so deathly quiet, his voice reverberates against the walls. He sounds like a big old giant, and I have to remind myself: This is the same shaggy-blond-haired guy who poured me hundreds of Shirley Temples. He’s no giant.
“Be quiet!” Evan says.
I finally realize what the sound is—distressed bunnies thumping their feet! Poor Coco, Esme, and Snowball! They must be so scared. It only gets worse, causing Evan to tell them to shut up again. Now I’m the one getting angry. Why would anyone scream at innocent bunnies? Did Evan not watch Bugs Bunny cartoons when he was a kid? What a terrible injustice. I won’t stand for this much longer.
“I never thought I would be hiding bunnies underneath a luxury hotel,” Evan says. “Then again, I thought I was going to be a world-famous magician by now. I would have been one if it weren’t for Dr. Von Selfish.”
Derek inhales angrily and I almost faint. Any sudden noise and we’re bound to get caught. Thankfully, Evan is too into speaking to the bunnies to pay attention to how Derek wants to pound his face in. Funny how Evan goes on and on about how Dr. Von Thurston is greedy and a narcissist, yet he can’t stop talking about himself and the way he was treated.
He continues: “You know, Dr. Von Thurston said I would never amount to anything and I didn’t have any real talent. He was so wrong. The only thing left is to finish dumping the rest of the gasoline. A flash paper tossed at the precise moment, and boom, no more calls for Dr. Von Thurston. Isn’t that right, you annoying furry rodents?”
Derek elbows me so hard I almost lose my balance. He’s feeling the rage as much as I am, maybe more so. Whatever issues he may have with his father, of course Derek still loves him. Why else would he be risking his father’s sartorial wrath to protect him from Evan’s diabolical plan?
“Well, drink up. I need to head back upstairs. Time to set up the grand ballroom for tomorrow,” Evan says. “The doctor will not know what hit him.”
When he says the word grand, he uses air quotes, which is very strange since the bunnies surely don’t understand how air quotes work.
We can’t let Evan leave the room. But how can we stop him? Time’s up. I need to make a move before he does. I give Derek one last look, and he stares back at me in fear. I tiptoe and stand right by the open door.
“Okay, in you go,” Evan says. I hear the sound of a scuffle. Then, “Hey, get back here!”
One of the rabbits makes a run for it, and I feel a rush of exhilaration. Could Snowball or Coco be trying to hop toward freedom? The rabbit leaps into a dark corner, and Evan panics. While he’s preoccupied, I take a good look around the room. It’s filled with abandoned hotel furniture. Evan was about to store the bunnies in a chest of drawers, but Freedom Bunny wasn’t about to allow that to happen, not without a fight.
“I don’t have time for this. Where are you?”
The rabbit makes a beeline to a large linen closet. The closet has a small hole in the corner, just big enough for the bunny to slip right through.
“Oh no, you’re not about to live in luxury in this closet,” Evan says. “You belong with your siblings in solitary confinement.”
Evan opens the linen closet and leans in. His whole body is practically inside. He tries to grab ahold of the rabbit, but Freedom Bunny is much too quick. Unable to get a firm grip, Evan steps into the closet.
“There you are!” Evan says.
With not a second to lose, I sneak behind him, push him right into the closet, and slam the door shut!
“Hurry!” I scream at Derek, and he throws himself atop the linen closet. Evan is kicking at the door, almost lifting it open, but Derek proves to be way stronger than he looks.
“Quick. Do something!” Derek yells. “He’s about to bust through.”
“Not if I can help it!”
I grab the rope I snatched earlier and put it to good use. I start to tie it around the closet, circling it a few times. I create several elaborate knots as quickly as possible. There’s more than enough rope to keep the closet doors shut. More than enough to keep our disgruntled Evan secured in one spot until we’re able to alert Walt and Mr. Maple to all his misdeeds.
“Whoever is doing this, I demand you release me,” Evan screams. “I work here, so you are going to be in big trouble.”
Derek knocks on the closet. “Actually, Evan, the only person who is in big trouble is you.”
“Derek Von Thurston? Is that you? Hey, kid, what’s the word?” he says, trying to sound as calm as possible, but there’s no denying the crack in his voice. “Derek, hey, remember how I used to take care of you? I promise I’ll explain everything if you’ll just open this up. We go way back. What do you say?”
“Evan was your babysitter?” I ask. I can’t imagine Derek as a little kid. He must have been constantly reciting long speeches for all to hear.
“Evan wasn’t very good at taking care of me. I vividly remember I was on my own for the most part while he devoured Dr. Von Thurston’s books on magic. I guess I didn’t mind it because he always made me such elaborate drinks.”
“Shirley Temples?” I ask, and Derek nods. Boy, Evan’s Shirley Temples are world-famous!
Evan pounds on the door some more. “Who’s with you? Is that Goldie? Goldie, get me out of here! This isn’t funny.”
I walk over to the closet. “I think you should’ve forgotten about the magic thing, Evan. Drinks are where your skills truly shine. Too bad you couldn’t see that.”
Evan responds by kicking the linen closet some more. The closet is old and made from sturdy wood. He won’t be escaping anytime soon.
A bundle of white fur slowly emerges from under the closet. Freedom Bunny! Derek jumps from atop the closet and bends down to greet the bunny. For whatever reason, it hops right into his open arms.
“Hey, little one. Are you hungry?” Derek asks. He pulls out a carrot and the bunny flashes a big grin. Well, I don’t know if bunnies can actually smile, but this one certainly seems happy to be free of Evan.
We locate the other two bunnies and feed them nice, fresh carrots as well. They are starving. Poor little ones.
“Well, look at that!”
Right beside the bunnies are the keys to the Great Bradinski’s straitjackets, a deck of Chakra Cards, a large stack of flash papers, and finally, Angela’s silver linking ring.
“Let’s bring these cuties up for air,” I say, nuzzling the one I think is Coco. She has long streaks of black on her eyes, like she’s wearing mascara.
“Aren’t you worried he might break out?” Derek asks. Evan is still banging on the closet. He’s now added cursing to his repertoire.
“He’s not going anywhere,” I say. “The rope trick I administered is called the constrictor. I also added a bowline knot, which features the rabbit hole. I can go on about knots! I learned them all from a couple of Boy Scouts!”
I think I’m starting to sound a little like Derek, going on and on about knots.
“Wow, Goldie, you’re not bad for a house detective slash car valet,” Derek says, juggling two bunnies against his yellow suit jacket.
“Not bad? I’m the best!”
It’s true. I am.
“Hi, Coco, Esme, or Snowball. My name is Goldie!” I say, and use my flashlight to illuminate our path back.