Stacey and the Mystery at the Empty House Read online

  Claud was looking at me, waiting for a response. But I wasn’t listening to her. Instead, I was staring in horror at a scene that was unfolding in front of me. Here’s what I saw: the train had pulled into the station, and almost the first people to get off were — guess who? — the Johanssens! Mr. Johanssen got off first, followed by Charlotte and Dr. Johanssen. I was shocked to see them, until I remembered the note on their fridge that gave their entire itinerary, including their arrival time back in Stoneybrook. I’d been so focused on finding the red-haired man that I’d forgotten they’d be on that morning train.

  But I wasn’t the only one watching the Johanssens get off the train. The red-headed man was making his way toward them. He moved quickly and deliberately, like a shark swimming toward its victims. I lifted my arm to wave at Dr. Johanssen, and I tried to call out to warn her. But my mouth had gone cottony-dry and my voice didn’t seem to work right. What came out was just a squeak.

  Then I saw Dr. Johanssen break into a big smile. At first I thought it was because she had seen me — but no. She was walking straight toward the red-headed man, holding out her arms as if she were about to hug him.

  “What?” I said out loud. I turned to Claud, only to find that she too was staring openmouthed at the scene. Without even realizing we were doing it, the two of us inched closer in order to hear what Dr. Johanssen and the red-headed man were saying to each other.

  “Bill!” she exclaimed. “Bill Grauman. How wonderful to see you.”

  “Welcome home, Peggy,” he answered. “Hey, there, Charlotte. How was your trip?” The man smiled as he greeted each of them in turn.

  Claudia and I stood stock-still, just staring. Then Dr. Johanssen caught my eye. “How nice of you to meet us, Stacey,” she said. Charlotte flew over to give me a hug. “Of course, you two have met,” Dr. Johanssen added, smiling at me and then at the red-haired man.

  We looked blankly at each other. “I — I’m Stacey,” I said, finally. “I’m the house-sitter.”

  The red-haired man held out his hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Bill Grauman,” he said. “The one who left you that note?”

  “Note?” I echoed.

  “Oh, dear,” he said. “You mean you didn’t get it?”

  I shook my head. Then, suddenly, I remembered the piece of chewed-up paper I’d found on my second day of house-sitting. The note! Carrot had eaten it. “What did it say?” I asked curiously. I was beginning to get the picture, but I wanted to make sure I was right.

  “It was just to let you know I’d be staying at the house,” he said.

  Charlotte was looking at each of us in turn, and her expression was bewildered.

  Dr. Johanssen jumped in. “Bill’s a dear old friend of ours from out of town,” she explained. “He knows where we keep the key, and he knows he’s welcome to use the house any time he’s in the area for business.”

  “I had no idea you’d gone away,” Bill said to her. “But it was just as well. I was coming in late each night and leaving early each morning, and I’d hardly have seen you anyway.”

  “So it was you,” I said slowly, “who left the water glass in the sink and the phone number on the pad. And did you also —?”

  “Break that vase?” he asked, looking sheepish. “Yup. I admit it. I banged into it one morning as I was rushing to leave. Oh, don’t worry, Peggy. I’ve already replaced it.”

  “Thanks,” Dr. Johanssen said, laughing. Then she turned to me. “But Stacey, if you didn’t know Bill was there, all those things must have scared you a little.”

  “A little,” I admitted. I heard Claudia give a tiny snort.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Dr. Johanssen. “We should have warned you that Bill might turn up.”

  “I’m like a bad penny that way,” joked Bill. “Always turning up. Now, how about some help with those bags? I bet you’re eager to get home.”

  “Is Carrot okay?” Charlotte asked me.

  “He’s fine,” I said. “He can’t wait to see you. And I can’t wait to hear about your trip. I’ll see you soon, okay?” I gave her another little hug, said good-bye, and headed off with Claud to find our friends and report on what had happened.

  “That was so wild!” said Claudia. “And now it’s all, like, happily ever after.”

  She didn’t know how right she was. When I got home that day, the first thing my mom told me was that the police had caught the escaped prisoner. It looked as if the BSC could finally stop concentrating on mysteries. It would be a relief to put our energy into planning our holiday party.

  “I guess Celery must be happy to have his family back,” Robert whispered into my ear.

  “Robert!” I gave him a little shove. Charlotte was sitting right next to me, on my other side, and I didn’t want her to hear him making fun of her dog’s name.

  “… but he can’t be nearly as happy as I am to have my Stacey back,” Robert finished. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer.

  I smiled at him and buried my chin in the big, fleecy collar of my coat. Then I glanced around at the happy faces surrounding me, and I felt totally content.

  We were on our sleigh ride, and it was — well, the only word to describe it is magical. It was a perfect night: cold enough for us to appreciate the heavy, warm blankets that covered our laps, but not too cold. Fresh, clean white snow covered the ground, and the trees had a fluffy frosting of snow on every limb. (Yes, Kristy’s wish had been granted, and there was more than enough snow for a sleigh ride.) We were skimming over the snow, pulled by two strong horses whose harnesses were strung with little bells. The sleigh I was in was actually like a big wagon, and it was filled with kids. So was the sleigh that followed ours. It seemed as if every single kid we had invited to our party had shown up.

  Here’s who was in my sleigh: me (duh!), Robert, Claudia, Shannon, and Jessi, along with Charlotte, Buddy and Suzi Barrett, Vanessa, Margo and Claire Pike, Haley and Matt Braddock, Jessi’s sister Becca, and Shannon’s sisters Tiffany and Maria.

  In the other sleigh, along with Kristy, Mary Anne, Logan, and Mal, were the Pike boys, plus Jackie and Shea Rodowsky, Jake, Patsy, and Laurel Kuhn, Kristy’s brother David Michael and her stepsiblings Karen and Andrew, Logan’s sister and brother Kerry and Hunter, and Marilyn and Carolyn Arnold.

  Most of our regular clients had come to the party, except for the very youngest ones. And practically every one of the kids was wearing a grin a mile wide. We’d spent the first part of the ride singing, but after we’d run through all the classics (such as “Winter Wonderland,” “Jingle Bells,” and “Frosty the Snowman”), we settled into a quiet mood. I leaned against Robert, patted Charlotte’s hand, and smiled over at Claudia as I thought about how nice it was not to be worried about a mysterious red-headed intruder!

  Claudia and I had talked about it while we dressed for the sleigh ride and party. (She’d come over to my house to get ready.) As we’d piled on the layers (I was wearing a silk teddy, a thermal shirt and leggings, a turtleneck, and a big multicolored sweater — I could barely move!), we had laughed about how easily all those “weird” events could now be explained.

  “There’s only one thing that doesn’t make sense,” Claudia had mused. “I understand the water glass in the sink, the warm coffeemaker, the missing newspaper, and the broken vase: those were all obviously Bill Grauman’s doing. But what about Carrot’s behavior? Like that day he went nuts in the house, or when he growled at you. What was that all about?”

  “I asked Dr. Johanssen,” I’d said. “She told me it was probably because Carrot doesn’t know Bill that well. Having him in the house upset Carrot and made him act strangely.”

  Claudia had nodded. “That explains that,” she’d said. “Now there’s really only one tiny thing that’s bugging me. It’s about that meter reader. Was she really a meter reader? And did she ever find a place to live?”

  I had laughed. “It’s funny you should ask,” I’d answered. “I happened to see her — and her husb
and — downtown yesterday. They were coming out of the electric company building, so I guess they really are employees. And they were totally lovey-dovey: holding hands, grinning at each other, you know. Somehow I have a feeling they made up.”

  “Aw,” Claud had said. “Nothing like a happy ending!”

  And that’s how I felt that night as our sleigh whizzed along over the snow. The ride made the perfect happy ending to our mystery.

  But the evening wasn’t over when the sleigh ride ended. We still had a party to host.

  My friends and I had put a lot of time and energy into planning the party, and, let me tell you, it was all worthwhile. The kids had a terrific time, and so did we.

  When we arrived at Mary Anne’s barn, the first thing we did was to help all those red-cheeked kids out of their outdoor clothes and give each one of them a cup of hot chocolate and a fistful of chocolate-chip cookies. (Sharon, Mary Anne’s stepmother, had the hot chocolate ready for us.) As they gobbled down their food, we set everything up for the activities we’d planned.

  We had decided to do a couple of things as a large group, and then break up into smaller groups for games. The first thing we did, after our snack, was to gather everyone into a big half circle for “Holiday Tales and Traditions.” (That name was Kristy’s idea. Pretty corny, huh? But it does describe the activity.)

  First, Claudia lit a tall white candle and stood by it as she told the story of the first Christmas. As she talked, she held up gorgeous watercolors she’d done to illustrate various scenes. The kids were silent as they listened and watched intently. Next, Claudia invited Jake Kuhn up front to share the story of Hanukkah. He had brought a menorah with him, and as he spoke Claudia helped him light the candles. And finally, Claudia asked Becca Ramsey to tell about Kwanzaa, the African American celebration that focuses on seven principles to live by. Becca brought a candle-holder, too, but hers had seven candles, for the seven principles. As she explained that it was called a kinara, Claudia helped her light those candles.

  The sight of that barn full of hopeful, happy children’s faces lit by candlelight is not one I’ll forget anytime soon.

  After that, we blew out the candles and broke up into smaller groups for some rowdier fun and games. In one corner, Mal and Jessi led a group in putting together a Mad Libs version of The Night Before Christmas. “Okay, I need a noun, a verb, an animal, and a piece of clothing,” Jessi said. Kids yelled out silly words — “Banana!” “Sneeze!” “Platypus!” “Underpants!” — and Mal wrote them all down.

  In another spot, Claud and I and a group of younger kids played a version of Grandmother’s Trunk, only we started with “I went on Santa’s sleigh, and in my bag I carried …”

  Shannon and Kristy had set up an area for dreidel games in another corner, and a crowd of noisy kids were trying their hands at spinning the tops.

  Meanwhile, Mary Anne and Logan had slipped off quietly.

  Suddenly, just as the games were winding down, there was a noisy knocking at the barn door.

  “Who could that be?” asked Kristy loudly. “I guess I’ll go see.” With all the kids’ eyes on her, she walked over to the door and threw it open. “Why, Santa!” she cried. “And Mrs. Claus. How nice to see you. Please, come in!”

  Logan and Mary Anne, who were disguised so well with pillows, red suits, and white wigs that even I could hardly recognize them, walked in and set down two bulging bags. The kids swarmed around them.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” Logan chortled. “This looks like a group of good girls and boys. Let’s see what we have for them, shall we, Mrs. Claus?”

  “Certainly, dear,” said Mary Anne. They opened the bags and passed out the presents as quickly as the kids could take them. Soon the room was filled with shrieks and giggles, as the kids tore open wrapping paper to find the silly little gifts we’d gotten them.

  And that was the end of our holiday party, as far as we had planned. Logan and Mary Anne escaped during the present-opening frenzy, and came back as themselves a few minutes later, ready to help the kids get ready to go home.

  But the kids had other plans.

  “I have an announcement,” said Nicky Pike, after climbing on a bench to get our attention. “We made a special surprise for all you baby-sitters. We’ve been working like elves so we could give you presents!”

  “So that’s what they were up to,” Mal whispered to Jessi. We stood there beaming as Nicky called us up one by one to get our presents.

  There was a specially decorated baseball cap for Kristy, and a snazzy pair of papier-mâché earrings for me. For Claudia there was a collection of junk food all done up in a pretty basket, and Mary Anne received a “portrait” of Tigger, drawn by Vanessa. Mary Anne also collected a gift she was instructed to send to Dawn: a pair of wild, neon-yellow sunglasses. Logan received a paperweight (a rock with his name painted on it), and Shannon was given a necklace with beads made from magazine pages. Jessi got some spangly hair ties, for putting up her hair during ballet class, and the kids had made Mal a customized sketchbook, with her name across the front in glitter.

  “You guys!” said Kristy, looking as if she were about to cry. Mary Anne was crying. The rest of us just thanked the kids over and over. I couldn’t believe how thoughtful every gift was, and how much time and energy must have gone into making all those presents. The kids we sit for are the best.

  I walked Charlotte home from the party that night. We held hands (held mittens, really), and walked slowly, talking about the party.

  Just as we reached her house, Charlotte looked up at me. “Stacey?” she said, sounding suddenly shy. “I wasn’t around to help make those presents. But since you’re my almost-sister, I brought you a special present from France.” She handed me a tiny package.

  Inside was a silvery pin with a miniature Eiffel Tower dangling from it. The word Paris was written across the top of the pin. “Oh, Charlotte,” I said, hugging her. “This is so cool. Thank you, little sister!”

  I gave her one last hug, said good night, and hurried home to show the pin to my mom and tell her about the evening. The pin would probably bring back some of her old memories, and I knew she would like it. I loved it, and I knew it would always bring back memories for me, too. Memories of a house-sitting adventure, and of a mystery with a happy ending.

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Ellen Miles

  for her help in

  preparing this manuscript.

  About the Author

  ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.

  There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.) In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.

  Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.

  Copyright © 1994 by Ann M. Martin

  Cover art by Hodges Soileau

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First edition, December 1994

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New Yo
rk, NY 10012.

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-79170-0