Stacey And The Mystery At The Mall Part 5

"Not really," I said. "We just want to try to figure out what's going on."

"I've been thinking about it," said Kristy, leaning back in the director's chair and adjusting her visor, "and the more I think about it, the more I wonder about Mr. Morton. He might be involved somehow. There's just something about him that makes me suspicious. I'm always seeing him on the videotapes, talking to those kids. Plus, he seemed so jumpy when I mentioned that I thought the kids belonged to him. He changed the subject fast and started to pace around the room, remember?"

Jessi nodded. "Also, he gave the okay for the day-care center awfully fast. He didn't take much time to think about it. That made me wonder about him. I mean, he didn't stop to look at a budget, or anything like that. And the rent for that storefront is a lot. I saw it on some of the paperwork. How can he afford to lose fifty percent of that every month?"

"I know," Mal admitted. "But I didn't want to question it. I was so happy he said yes. Besides, he seems like such a nice guy. And why would he be involved in stealing from the mall? After all, he is the manager. Shoplifting makes him look bad."

"Whoa!" I said. "Speaking of looking bad, I just remembered something. A while ago there was an article in the paper about the mall. Something about how it was in financial trouble, maybe even on the verge of going bankrupt. It never happened, so I forgot about mo it, but if something was wrong, maybe Mr. Morton was involved."

"I smell a rat, as Watson would say," said Kristy. "This is definitely something to check out."

"Okay," said Mary Anne. "Hew can we find out more about the mall's finances?"

"No problem," said Claud. "All we have to do is go to the library tomorrow and look up back issues of the newspaper. My mom can help us if we get stuck." (Mrs. Kis.h.i.+ is the director of the Stoneybrook Public Library, and she's guided us through this kind of research more than once.) "Jessi and I won't be able to come," said Mal. "We're sitting for my brothers and sisters, remember?"

"Logan and I kind of have a date," said Mary Anne. "But we can cancel it. We were just planning to go on a picnic."

We convinced Mary Anne to keep her date, and Shannon, Kristy, Claud, and I agreed to meet at the library at noon the next day.

We whipped into action as soon as we arrived at the library. Claudia, who's an ace with the microfiche reader (she is a librarian's daughter, after all) had the machine all ready. Shannon pulled out a pad and pencil for taking notes, and Kristy and I read over Claud's shoulder as she ran the machine.

"I guess we look up Was.h.i.+ngton Mall," said Claudia. She ran through a few pages until Kristy stopped her.

"There!" she said, pointing. She read off a date, and Shannon noted it down. "And there's another," said Kristy. "But these articles are really recent. They're probably about the kids who were arrested. We need to look further back."

Ten minutes later, we had a whole list of dates to check out. One by one, Claudia found the articles on the microfiche and we read through them. Sure enough, the recent ones were about the wave of shoplifting at the mall, and how the problem had been "solved" by the arrests of five teenagers. But when we looked at the articles from several months before, we "hit paydirt," as Kristy said.

First, there was a piece about how the previous mall manager, Ms. Richards, had retired. It mentioned that Mr. Morton had been promoted to the position. Before that, he had been some kind of a.s.sistant manager. Next, there were a whole bunch of stories about new and exciting happenings at the mall, such as a book drive that was held to benefit a homeless shelter in Stamford, and free Sunday concerts for kids. Mr. Morton seemed to be the driving force behind the "new, community- minded spirit at the Was.h.i.+ngton Mall," according to one reporter.

The next artides we read weren't quite so upbeat. One raised the question of a "misappropriation of mall funds." And the next two discussed the possibility of the mall filing for bankruptcy. The second one even referred to the fact that Ted Morton was being investigated, though it wasn't dear why.

"Whoa," said Shannon, looking over the notes she had made. "This doesn't look so good. Your Mr. Morton sounds like he's into some bad business."

"I know I was the one who suspected him first, but now that I see these articles, I don't want to believe it," said Kristy. "I mean, he's such a nice guy. And he's done a lot of good for the mall - and for the community."

"True," said Claudia, as she turned off the microfiche machine and leaned back in her chair, "but there's obviously something funny going on."

"It still doesn't add up, though," said Shannon. "I mean, what about those kids you mentioned? Where do they fit in?"

We looked at each other and shrugged. Our research hadn't made anything dear - in fact, as we left the library that day, we only felt more confused.

The next day, Sunday, my friends and I headed over to the mall for the painting party. Charlie drove us in Watson's van. "You guys sure look different from the last time I saw you," he said as he dropped us off. It was true. That afternoon, we had been dressed in our best clothes. This time we were wearing stuff we'd found in the rag-bag. Claudia, for example, had wrapped a neon-pink bandana around her head, and she was wearing a humongous pair of overalls over an ancient striped T-s.h.i.+rt. "Didn't you know?" she asked Charlie with a grin. "This is the latest fas.h.i.+on. We're always on the cutting edge."

The painting party was a blast. April had supplied a tape player, and everybody had brought along their favorite ca.s.settes. Mr. Williams surprised us with some cool old rock from the 60s, and Ms. Snyder's choke, cla.s.sical music, was actually pretty nice to paint to. We divided up the room into sections and split up our group into teams, and then everybody got to work. I was in the toddler corner with Claudia and Ms. Snyder, while Kristy, Mary Anne, and April worked in the baby area. Logan, Jessi, Mal, and Mr. Williams were painting the older kids' section.

By noon, we were splattered with white paint, and the walls were nearly covered. We decided to eat lunch while we waited for the first coat to dry. Claudia nudged me as we unwrapped our sandwiches, and when I followed her glance I saw Mr. Williams offering some crackers to Ms. Snyder, with a look on his face that could only mean one thing. "I think he has a crush on her," Gaud whispered to me. We giggled.

After lunch, I worked with Kristy and Mary Anne. We talked a lot (quietly) about Mr. Mor-ton and the mystery at the mall, but none of us had come up with any new ideas. "I wish I could slip into his office and go through his files," said Kristy. "I could probably get the key to it at the security office."

"Kristy, you can't do that!" I said. I was so shocked I almost knocked over our bucket of paint. 'That's probably illegal, and ifs definitely wrong."

"I know," she admitted. "I didn't say I was going to do it. I just said I wished I could."

I knew what she meant. The mystery was frustrating. We were just going to have to keep our eyes open and wait for something to happen.

Chapter 12.

On Tuesday, Jessi went to work at Cinema World knowing that she would have a busy day. A birthday party was going to be held that afternoon at the theatre, and she was supposed to help supervise it. Cinema World has a special program called the Movie Club. When you join, you get a members.h.i.+p card, and every time you go to the movies, you show your card and the ticket-taker punches it. When you have ten punches, you start getting special discounts on tickets, free popcorn, and stuff like that. For kids ten and under, twenty punches on their Movie Club card means that they can have a Movie Club Birthday Party.

The birthday girl or boy can invite up to ten guests to the party, and all the guests get to see the movie at half price. Afterward, the party moves to the Movie Club room (a small room off the lobby), where the kids can pig out on free popcorn and sodas.

Jessi's first task was to decorate the Movie Club room with the streamers, tablecloths, and party hats that Mrs. Powers, the mother of the birthday girl, had brought in. The kids - a bunch of six-year-old girls - were already watching the movie when Jessi arrived, and she only had fifteen minutes to get the room ready.

"Hannah insisted on these Ninja Turtle decorations," said Mrs. Powers, who was hovering around "helping" Jessi. "I wanted to do something tasteful, with a nice color scheme, but no. She had to have Ninja Turtles." She held up one of the tablecloths and sniffed.

"I think it's neat," said Jessi. "A lot of girls only like Barbie or the Little Mermaid. Hannah must be pretty special."

"Oh, she is!" said Mrs. Powers, her eyes lighting up with pride. "You should hear her read out loud to her little sisters. She's only in first grade, but she's already reading at a fifth-grade level!"

Jessi, whose back was turned to Mrs. Powers at the moment, raised her eyebrows. She wondered if the proud mama wasn't exaggerating just a bit. But all she said was, "That's great!" She shook out the other tablecloth and covered a table with it. Then she stood on a chair to attach one end of a streamer to the wall. Mrs. Powers was still just standing there, holding the first tablecloth and talking about her wonderful Hannah.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Jessi said, pretending to listen to every word. She stepped down from the chair and checked her watch. The kids would be descending on the room within minutes. Jessi rushed around setting out soda and cups and putting up the rest of the streamers, and finally the room was ready. "Excuse me," she said to Mrs. Powers, who was still talking. "I'm just going to go get the popcorn. I'll be right back."

By the time Jessi returned with the popcorn, the ten kids were in the room, and the noise level was high. Hannah sat at the head of one of the tables, a huge pile of colorfully wrapped presents in front of her. She eyed them with pleasure. Her little sister, who looked about three, sat near her, squirming with excitement. "When are you going to open them, Hannah?" she kept asking. "Open mine first!" Most of the other kids were running around yelling a phrase from the movie they'd just seen: "Ooohhhh, nooooo, not the alligators!" they shrieked. Mrs. Powers stood in the center of the room, looking as if she had a bad headache.

"Anyone for popcorn?" Jessi said, in a voice loud enough to be heard over the din.

"Yea!" the kids yelled. They rushed to sit down at the tables. Jessi scooped popcorn out of the big bag she'd brought and dumped it into plastic bowls. She pa.s.sed the bowls around, and suddenly the room became a lot quieter.

"You're very good with children," said Mrs. Powers as she and Jessi stood watching.

"I've had a lot of experience," replied Jessi. She told Mrs. Powers a little about the BSC, and before long Mrs. Powers had pulled out a notepad and was taking down Claudia's number.

"We have another daughter, too," said Mrs. Powers. "Lea. She's only one and a half, though, so she's with her aunt today. it's hard enough having Emily here, when she's so much younger than the others." She nodded toward Hannah's little sister, who had spilled most of her popcorn on the floor.

"Soon there'll be a day-care center at the mall," said Jessi. "If 11 be perfect for this type of situation. If it was here already, you could have dropped both of your younger girls off there, and they'd be having a terrific time."

"What a wonderful idea," said Mrs. Powers. "I must say, this mall is certainly changing for the better lately."

Just then, Emily started crying over her spilled popcorn, Hannah began asking if it was time to open her presents yet, and three of the girls at the second table started a popcorn fight, giggling madly as they tossed handfuls across the table.

"Whoa," said Jessi, "I think it's time to start the games."

Jessi had already set out some games the Movie Club kept on hand. She'd found Twister and Pin the Tail on the Donkey, and a small tape player and some cus.h.i.+ons for Musical Cus.h.i.+ons. (That's a version of musical chairs which is a lot less likely to end in tears: instead of kids losing out as the chairs are taken away, the object of the game is for everybody to try to squish close enough together to fit on nine cus.h.i.+ons, and then eight, and so on until everybody's all packed together on one little cus.h.i.+on. There's always a ton of giggling during Musical Cus.h.i.+ons.) "What would you like to play first, Hannah?" Jessi asked.

"Twister!" cried Hannah. "And I get to spin the dial!" She ran to take the dial from Jessi, and the other girls lined up to play. Just as Hannah called out the first directions - "Right foot, yellow!" - Jessi heard a loud clanging noise coming over the loudspeaker mounted in a corner of the room.

"What is that?" asked Mrs. Powers, putting her hands over her ears. The noise was deafening.

'Tm not positive," said Jessi, "but I think ifs a fire alarm." She was trying to sound calm, but she felt terrified. Her boss had never given her instructions about what to do when the fire alarm went off, and there she was with a room full of young children. She took a deep breath, whispered "don't panic" to herself, and began to organize the kids. "Okay," she shouted over the clanging. "We're going to line up by the door now. Quick! Whoever7 s on line when I count ten will get an extra container of popcorn."

Mrs. Powers seemed to come to life then, and she helped Jessi herd the kids toward the door. Then, as Jessi rounded up a couple of stragglers, the clanging stopped and a voice came over the loudspeaker.

"Please evacuate the mall immediately," it said, over a crackly background. "A fire alarm has been sounded, and the mall must be evacuated. Please proceed calmly to the nearest fire exit."

"Nearest exit?" asked Mrs. Powers, a little wildly. "Where - ?"

Just then, the door flew open and Mr. Magee popped his head in. "Follow me," he said. "The exit's right down the hall."

Jessi sighed with relief. She had no idea where the nearest fire exit was, and would not have been able to answer Mrs. Powers' question. But now all she had to do was get the kids moving and follow Mr. Magee, which was no problem at all. Except that Hannah, at the last minute, decided that she had to save her presents. She dashed back down the hall and into the room, and Jessi dashed after her.

"But my presents!" Hannah wailed, as Jessi steered her gently toward the door. "I didn't even get to open them, and now they'll all burn up!"

Jessi didn't try to answer that. She knew she couldn't waste time saving presents in a burning mall, but she didn't want to scare the birthday girl. "Let's go," she said. "I bet your mom and sister are wondering where you are." She hurried Hannah to the exit door which Mr. Magee was holding open. Then she and Hannah stepped outside into the bright sunlight.

"Over here, Hannah!" called Mrs. Powers, who was standing near a lightpost with the group of children. Hannah ran to her.

Jessi, blinking, turned to look at the mall. She didn't see any flames or smoke, and she wondered if there really was a fire.

"Hey, Jessi!" I shouted. I had seen her come out, and now I ran to meet her. Mallory joined us.

"Do you think there's really a fire?" Jessi asked.

I shook my head. "I don't think so," I said. "I've already talked to Alan Gray and Logan, and to people from a couple of stores, and n.o.body saw or smelled anything."

"Must have been a false alarm," said Mal.

We stood talking for a while. Fire engines pulled up, and the fire fighters jumped out and ran into the building, but nothing else happened. They didn't come back to get hoses cr anything. On the other hand, they weren't about to let us into the mall until they were positive there was no fire.

After about fifteen minutes, Mrs. Powers told Jessi that she and the girls were going to leave. "I'll drop by later to pick up the presents," she said. "But I think for now we'll just continue the games at home. Thanks for all your help."

Jessi said good-bye to Hannah and the rest of the girls, and then we stood around and waited some more. Finally, Kristy showed up, looking important in her security cap.

"False alarm," she said, without our even having to ask. "And I already saw the videotape from the camera posted near the box." "Wow, really?" I said. "What did you see?" "Nothing conclusive," said Kristy. "But there was one weird thing. Right after the alarm went off, those three blonde kids ran past the camera. And they looked scared to death."

Chapter 13.

"Ahhh!" said Kristy, flopping back on my bed. "This is great. Just like we planned - no work, no baby-sitting, no meeting. Total relaxation." She picked up my copy of #1 Fan, a magazine I sometimes buy, and started to leaf through it.

Kristy, Mary Anne, and I were hanging out at my house after school on Thursday. We had been looking forward to this afternoon ever since we had planned it, weeks ago. Project Work had been taking up a lot of our time, but there was only one more week to go. Then we'd return to our busy schedules of school, sitting, meetings, and more sitting. For just this one afternoon, we had planned to take it easy. Later, Kristy was going to Mary Anne's house for dinner and my mom had offered to take me out to my favorite restaurant.

Claudia had an art cla.s.s that afternoon, and Mal was sitting for her brothers while her mom took the girls shopping. Logan had track tryouts, and Shannon was sitting for the Rodowskys. Jessi had planned to spend some time with Becca, working on a garden they were planning for the Ramseys' backyard.

Mary Anne leaned over Kristy's shoulder to look at the magazine. "There's Cam Geary," she said. "Doesn't he look gorgeous in that blue s.h.i.+rt? Blue is his favorite color, you know." Mary Anne has had a major crush on Cam Geary for a long time. She's always telling Logan he looks just like Cam.

"Is that why you bought Logan a blue s.h.i.+rt?" Kristy asked.

"No!" exclaimed Mary Anne, blus.h.i.+ng. ''Well, maybe that was partly why. But blue happens to be Logan's favorite color, too."

I picked up another magazine. "Cam's okay," I said, "but he's kind of young. I like older guys, like Steve Matthews." I showed my friends a poster-sized pullout of a guy with dark hair and deep brown eyes.

Kristy threw down her magazine. "I don't know," she said. "None of these guys seems real to me. I mean, I'd want to know how well they can catch a line drive to third base. That kind of thing matters more to me than looks."

"I guess Barfs perfect for you, then," I said.

"I've seen him do some amazing things on a baseball field." Bart Taylor is Kristy's sort-of boyfriend. He coaches a softball team for little kids, just as Kristy does. Sometimes Kristy's Krushers and Bart's Bashers play each other.

Kristy sighed loudly.

"Thinking about Bart?" asked Mary Anne.

"Not really," Kristy said. "I'm thinking about what we're all thinking about, even though we don't want to admit it. I'm thinking about what's going on at the mall."

Mary Anne and I looked down at the floor. It was true. As hard as we were trying, we couldn't really relax and forget about the problems at the mall.

"Let's just talk about it," said Kristy. "There's no point in pretending we aren't worried about them."

"Them" - the three blonde kids. Since Tuesday, when Kristy had seen them run past the video camera after the alarm had been pulled, none of us had spotted the kids even once. We didn't see them leave the mall on Tuesday, after the fire alarm. And we didn't see them anywhere on Wednesday. And they hadn't shown up at Mal's story hour, which was unusual, since they had been coming regularly. They didn't appear even once in the videotapes Kristy had reviewed late Wednesday afternoon.

Now Kristy stood up and started to pace around. "It's so weird," she said. "I didn't even realize how much I was used to seeing them. They always showed up on the tapes at one point or another. Some days I'd see them four or five times. First they'd be sitting near the fountain, and then I'd see them walking through the food court - they were just, like, always there. And now they aren't."

Mary Anne frowned. "I hope they're okay," she said. //What could have happened to them?"

"What if it has something to do with the fire alarm?" I said. "After all, that's the last time we spotted them."

"Do you think they pulled it?" asked Mary Anne.

"They've never caused trouble before," said Kristy. "They wouldn't pull it just for fun."

"Maybe they thought they saw a fire," I said.

Kristy snapped her fingers. "I just remembered something," she said. "On that videotape - the one from the camera by the fire alarm? - guess who I saw right before the alarm went off and the kids ran by? Mr. Morton. He looked pretty upset, too. I didn't think much of it. He's the mall manager, and he's always showing up on the tapes."

"But you said you used to see him talking to those kids all the time," I said. "And we agree something's not quite right about him. What about the problem with the funds at the mall - that whole bankruptcy thing?"

"I wonder if he was talking to them that day," said Kristy slowly.