Stacey and the Mystery at the Mall Read online

  Here’s the downside: Before Sharon and Mr. Spier got married, Dawn’s brother Jeff realized that he was never going to adjust to life in Connecticut. He missed California — and his dad — so much that everyone decided it would be best for him to go back and live there. Dawn felt at home in Stoneybrook, but not too long ago she started to miss Jeff and her dad a lot. That’s why she’s out there now. She went to live with them for awhile, and now we miss her like crazy. Mary Anne, especially. I could tell she was really happy to hear that Dawn was looking forward to coming back.

  Dawn, who has long, long blonde hair and cornflower-blue eyes, is a true individual. She goes her own way, without worrying too much about what the rest of the world is doing. Her job in the BSC (when she’s here) is alternate officer, which means she can take over for any other officer who can’t attend a meeting. We don’t need an alternate officer every day, but there are times when the job is essential.

  That’s why Shannon Kilbourne, who is usually an associate member like Logan, has temporarily replaced Dawn. Shannon, who has curly blonde hair and a ski-jump nose, lives in Kristy’s new neighborhood and goes to a private school. As one of our associate members, she used to be on call to take jobs when we had more than we could handle. Lately, though, she’s been acting as a full-fledged member, attending meetings regularly and taking on lots of sitting jobs. (Logan attends meetings only when he wants to.) Shannon has two little sisters, Tiffany and Maria. She’s a great student, and she’s always involved in after-school activities.

  That day she arrived soon after Mary Anne did. “Whew!” she said, eyeing Claud’s digital clock. “I just made it, didn’t I? I was at a drama club meeting, and my friend’s mom drove me here afterward. She isn’t familiar with this neighborhood, and she kept making wrong turns even though I thought I was giving her good directions!”

  Kristy glanced at the clock. It was 5:28, and I knew she was dying to start the meeting. But I also knew she would wait until exactly 5:30, because that’s just the way Kristy is. She’s a strong believer in punctuality, to put it mildly.

  Claudia groped around under her bed and came up with a bag of Hershey’s Miniatures. “I found these last night,” she said. “I hid them so well that at first I couldn’t remember where they were.” Although Claud loves junk food, her parents don’t like her to eat it. So she hides it all over her room, along with the Nancy Drew books her parents don’t approve of (they think she should be reading “more challenging material”), and pulls it out when we have meetings. She also keeps pretzels and whole-wheat crackers on hand for me. As vice-president of the club, that’s one of her only real duties, and it’s an unoffical one. Mostly she’s the vice-president because the club meets in her room — and we meet in her room because she’s the only BSC member with her own phone and a private line. Which reminds me of another one of her duties. Claud handles any BSC calls that come in when we’re not meeting.

  Kristy accepted the bag of candy and started picking out the Special Dark bars. While she poked around, Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike rushed into the room.

  Jessi and Mal are best friends, and the only junior officers of the club. They’re called junior officers because unlike the rest of us, who are thirteen and in the eighth grade, Mal and Jessi are eleven and in sixth. They can’t baby-sit at night, except for their own families. Jessi has a younger sister named Becca and a little brother called Squirt. (His real name is John Philip, Jr.). Mal comes from a huge family: She has seven younger brothers and sisters! Three of them are identical triplets: Adam, Byron, and Jordan. Then there are Vanessa, Nicky, Margo, and Claire. It’s no wonder Mal’s such a good sitter.

  Jessi is African-American, with coal-dark eyes, cocoa-colored skin, and the long, limber body of a dancer. She studies ballet very seriously, and may be a ballerina someday. Mal has red hair, glasses, and braces. (They’re the clear kind, and don’t really show, but she hates them anyway.) Mal is a talented writer and artist, and hopes someday to write and illustrate children’s books.

  Jessi and Mal had arrived just in time. Right after they got settled on the floor, the clock clicked to 5:30. “Order!” said Kristy. The meeting had begun. “Any new business?” she asked first.

  I kept quiet. It was a Friday, which meant I didn’t have to collect dues. As treasurer of the club, I do that on Mondays. We all pitch in to help pay Claud’s phone bill and Kristy’s transportation costs. (Her brother Charlie drives her to meetings.) Nobody loves paying dues, but I have to admit that I like to collect them and keep track of all our money. Maybe someday I’ll invest some of it, and surprise everybody by making a killing on the stock market! Or maybe not. Kristy would have a fit.

  When nobody answered Kristy, she plowed right ahead. “Well, I have some new business,” she said. “Project Work is going to change the way we run the club for a while, from what I can tell. It’s a special class at SMS,” she explained, turning to Shannon.

  Just then, the phone rang and Kristy answered it. It was Mrs. Perkins, one of our regular clients, looking for a sitter for Saturday. The BSC swung into business mode. Mary Anne checked the record book and told us who was free: Jessi, Mary Anne, and Claud. Claud said she had an art project planned, and Mary Anne said she was going shopping with Sharon, so Jessi got the job. Kristy called Mrs. Perkins back, and in minutes everything was all set up.

  “Now, where was I?” said Kristy, after she’d hung up. She glanced at the notes she’d made earlier. “Okay, here’s the thing. We’re all going to be working three days a week after school. The way I see it, we’re going to have to cut down our BSC meetings to one a week. Plus, we’re going to have to be extra careful about how many sitting jobs we take on.”

  We glanced at Shannon. She had just gotten used to making time in her schedule for BSC meetings, and now Kristy was telling her that we wouldn’t have time. Shannon smiled. “It’s fine with me,” she said. “Maybe I can cover the phone on the days we aren’t meeting. But tell me more about Project Work.”

  We spent the rest of the meeting — between phone calls — talking about Project Work. Kristy thought it would be a good idea if we all worked at the Washington Mall, just so our schedules would be coordinated, and we started talking about which stores and businesses we’d like to work at. Even if only half of them had agreed to accept Project Work kids, there would still be dozens to choose among. The mall is absolutely huge. We weren’t fantasizing anymore, but it was almost more exciting to think about what we really might be doing. I could hardly wait to get started.

  Mr. Withum, my Project Work teacher, was a nice surprise. I’d never had him for a teacher before (he was new at SMS) so I didn’t know what to expect. From hearing his name, I had imagined a kind of shriveled, gray-haired man. But he turned out to be “pleasantly plump,” as my mother would say, with a big, round pink face and a cheerful smile.

  After introducing himself, he explained in more detail how the class would work. All of the Project Work teachers had divided up the available jobs. We would be able to pick from the list he had made, which mostly included jobs in Stoneybrook and at the mall. I listened closely when he explained how, for the six weeks of Project Work, the kids who were working at the mall would be bussed to their jobs on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday afternoons. I was just hoping I could find a job I liked at the mall, so I could be on the same schedule as my friends.

  “During school we’ll meet three times a week,” Mr. Withum went on, “to check in with each other and talk about how the jobs are going.” Then he handed a stack of job lists to the first person in each row and told them to pass the lists back.

  Austin Bentley raised his hand. “What if we get fired from our jobs?” he asked with a grin. “Do we fail the class?” I like Austin, but he can be a wise guy.

  Mr. Withum smiled. “This class is unfailable,” he said. “If you got fired, which I doubt would happen, I’d ask you to write up the experience in your job diary. And then I’d ask you to find another job. It would all be
part of learning what it’s like to work in the real world.”

  Kara Mauricio, who was sitting in front of me, handed back the job lists. I took one and passed the rest of them on. Then I scanned the list, hoping I’d see the perfect job right away. There are some great clothing stores at the mall, and I’d been fantasizing about working at one of them. This one called Zingy’s has very cool stuff, but I didn’t see it on the list. I was disappointed.

  The class was buzzing as everybody looked over the list. “All right!” said this guy named Gordon Brown. “Donut Express. That’s for me!” Donut Express is a place just outside of Stoneybrook that sells — you guessed it — doughnuts. It’s a great place to pig out, even though whenever I go there I have to limit myself to the bagels. “I love those chocolate cream-filled ones,” Gordon went on. He looked hungry.

  “This job at Bellair’s looks cool,” said Kara. “Women’s accessories. I could get into that.”

  “Dibs on the job at the bike shop!” yelled Austin.

  “Okay, hold on just a minute,” said Mr. Withum. “Let’s do this in an orderly fashion. I’ll go down the list, and if I call out a job you want, raise your hand.” He started reading out the names of businesses.

  Meanwhile, I looked the list over more carefully. Zingy’s was out, but there were several other choices at the mall. Then I saw it. “Perfect,” I said. Near the bottom of the list was Toy Town, which is a terrific toy store. I’ve browsed through it plenty of times, looking for little items for my Kid-Kit. Toy Town carries all the regular toys, but it also has some really neat stuff that you can’t get everywhere else, such as kits for bug-collecting, or a make-your-own kite package. I guess they’re called “educational” toys, but they’re not boring. They’re cool. Some of the kids I sit for have found great things at Toy Town. Charlotte Johanssen, my favorite sitting charge, bought a great stuffed dinosaur there.

  Just as I was trying to remember what Charlotte had named the dinosaur (I think it was Jasper) I heard Mr. Withum call out, “Anybody for Toy Town?”

  My hand shot up. I looked around nervously to see if anybody else wanted to work there, but my hand was the only one raised. Mr. Withum took down my name, and that was it. I had a job!

  Once all the jobs were assigned, Mr. Withum told us we’d be visiting our new employers on Wednesday, for orientation, and that our jobs would actually start on the following Monday.

  As soon as class was dismissed, I ran to my locker. As I’d hoped, Claud was waiting there for me. “Did you get a job?” she asked eagerly. I nodded.

  “At Toy Town,” I said.

  “All right!”

  “What about you?”

  “I got the exact one I wanted,” she replied. “At the Artist’s Exchange.”

  I squealed and gave her a hug. The Artist’s Exchange is this great art supply store where Claudia sometimes buys oil paints and special markers and stuff. “You’ll be perfect there,” I said. “You know about everything they carry.”

  “Well, not everything,” she said. “But I’ll learn. This is going to be so cool.”

  As soon as I finished at my locker, we headed outside. I couldn’t wait to find out what jobs everybody else had landed. The other members of the BSC were waiting by the fence, and as Claud and I crossed the parking lot, Kristy caught sight of us. “Did you get jobs at the mall?” she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. I gave her the thumbs up sign, and she grinned at me.

  When we joined our friends, everybody was talking at once, and at first it was hard to sort out who had gotten which job. “Hey!” yelled Kristy. “Order!”

  “Kristy, this isn’t a meeting,” I said. “You can’t call us to order.”

  “Oh, right.” Kristy looked a little embarrassed. “I just wanted to hear about everybody’s jobs,” she explained.

  “Me, too,” I said. “How about if we take turns telling each other?”

  “Great,” she said. “As president, I’ll go first.” We laughed. “I have the coolest job,” Kristy said, ignoring us. “Get this — I’m going to be working for mall security!” She swaggered a little. “I’ll be on patrol, making sure the mall is crime-free.”

  Logan gave her a high-five. “Sounds great,” he said. “I got a job at Casa Grande’s take-out counter in the food court. If we get any banditos over there, I’ll know who to call.”

  “Casa Grande!” said Mal. “That’s my favorite place in the whole mall. I love their Super Burritos. I’ll be stopping by on my break. I’m going to be working at the BookCenter.”

  “That’s perfect for you, Mal,” I said. The BookCenter is a really nice bookstore, with a huge children’s section. “I’ll be down the hall at Toy Town.”

  “And I’ll be upstairs from you both,” said Mary Anne. “At Critters, the pet supply store. It’s on the third floor.”

  “Oh, I know why you picked that job,” said Kristy. “You just want to scope out all the latest cat toys for Tigger.” Tigger is Mary Anne’s kitten. She spoils him rotten.

  Mary Anne blushed. “Well, that’s kind of true,” she said. “But I also thought it would be fun to work at a place where people buy things for their pets. And I’m so glad it’s not a regular pet store, with puppies and kittens crammed in those tiny cages.”

  “I’ll be working as an usher at the Cinema World, way up on the fourth floor,” said Jessi. “It wasn’t my first choice, but I think it’ll be fun. I guess I’ll be able to see movies for free anyway.”

  Kristy’s bus pulled up then, and she had to run for it — but a few hours later we were together again for a BSC meeting in Claud’s room, and our discussion continued.

  We talked some more about how to run the club during the six weeks of Project Work. We decided to meet once a week, on Fridays. Shannon said she could answer the phone on Mondays and Wednesdays, and take a lot of the early afternoon jobs on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. It looked as if we were all set.

  * * *

  As soon as school ended that Wednesday, I headed for the bus that would take my friends and me to the mall. Kristy had already claimed the two back rows, and I grabbed the seat next to her. “I had to fight Alan Gray for these seats,” she said, “but I won.”

  Alan, who is just about the most obnoxious boy in our class, turned around and crossed his eyes at us. “You’ll be sorry,” he said. “I’m going to be working at Just Desserts, and I’ll put ants on top of your ice cream instead of chocolate sprinkles.”

  “Yum,” said Kristy, giggling. “I love ants.”

  The ride to the mall was fun, and I realized that spending time on the bus with my friends was going to be great. It was a half hour long each way, plenty of time to catch up with each other and talk about all the stuff we try to gab about during BSC meetings.

  When we reached the mall, we scattered. Jessi headed for the elevator, which would take her to Cinema World. Mary Anne stepped onto the escalator and waved to us as she rode up to Critters. Kristy headed for the security offices, walking along with Mal, who was on her way to the BookCenter. Logan loped off toward the food court. Then Claud walked me to Toy Town since the Artist’s Exchange is right around the corner from it. “Have fun,” she said. “If you get done a little early, come get me. Maybe we’ll have time to go upstairs and check out Zingy’s.”

  I walked into Toy Town, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden. I was about to meet my new boss! I glanced around at the colorful store, and then I looked down at the card I was carrying to check my boss’s name one last time.

  “Well, hello!” I heard a woman say. “You must be Stacey.” I looked up to see a tall woman with long, curly red hair, an armful of silver bracelets, and a big smile. She was wearing a white blouse and a swirling purple skirt that looked as if it were made out of silk. And on her hip, she held a little boy with red hair like hers.

  “Ms. Frenning?” I asked.

  “Please, call me April,” she said. “And this is Sandy, my son. Say hi, Sandy.” Sandy frowned at me and tur
ned his face away. “He’s a little shy sometimes,” said April apologetically. “Anyway, welcome to Toy Town. Is this your first time in the store?”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “I’ve been here before. I love this store.”

  “Terrific,” said April. “You know what? I can already tell we’re going to get along just fine.”

  April was right. By the end of the afternoon, I felt as if I’d known her forever. She gave me a tour of the store, pointing out the newest and most interesting merchandise. She explained pricing and showed me how to run the cash register. And we even took time out to play with a new item she’d just gotten in — a realistic-looking rubber spider that jumped when you pressed a bulb that was attached to it by a tube. We made it leap all over the store, and soon we were laughing so hard we were practically crying.

  Sandy, on the other hand, actually was crying, at least some of the time. April explained that he was bored, since she had been having trouble finding child care for him lately and he’d had to spend a lot of time with her at the store. But even though he was a little cranky, I could tell Sandy was a great kid.

  “I’m looking forward to having you here on Monday,” April said, when it was time for me to head for the bus. “I think we’re going to have fun.”

  I was sure she was right. I could hardly wait to start my new job.

  Slinkys. Dinosaur puzzles, farm puzzles, zoo puzzles, puzzles of every description. Cowboy hats and ballerina tiaras. Stuffed bears, stuffed rabbits, and stuffed whales. Train sets, doctor kits, puppets … there was so much to look at in Toy Town! When I arrived there on Monday for my first real day of work, April told me to take some time to explore the store and get familiar with the merchandise. I walked up and down the aisles, amazed at how much could be packed into one small store. The week before, when April had showed me around, I had been too excited and nervous to take everything in. But now, I was paying more attention.

  The place was like heaven for little kids. I pictured myself at eight or nine years old. At that age, I could have happily spent all my time in a place like Toy Town. And it wasn’t just the toys. April had made the store into a very welcoming place. There were display tables, for example, where toys were set out for kids to look at and play with. One of them held a train set, with trees and buildings and even a lake made out of a mirror. On the other was a farm scene, with horses and cows and pigs and sheep all spilling out of a big red barn. I picked up a horse to look it over more closely.