On the Case (From the Files of Madison Finn, 17) (12 page)

Then it dawned on her. The perfect detective name had been given to her by her longtime crush.

Finnster.

Glad to meet you,
Madison imagined herself saying.
I’m Finnster, Private Eye.

It was perfect.

“Hello!” someone cried from behind the group. It was Lindsay. She jumped up and down. “I’m so glad you guys waited. Thanks!”

Lindsay had taken the bus from her condominium across town. In many ways, Lindsay was like Madison’s honorary BFF, after Fiona and Aimee.

“Hey, Maddie!” Lindsay said, grabbing Madison’s arm.

Madison was glad to have a partner of some kind to enter the theater with, although it wasn’t the one she’d hoped for.

“So, we’re all here now?” Mariah asked. She and Penelope passed out the movie tickets for the group, courtesy of Drew’s mom. Then everyone scuttled into the theater in a pack. They moved together like parts of an octopus. Some tentacles stretched out toward the concession stand, while others just headed straight for the ticket-taker by the escalator.

Madison rode up the escalator next to Lindsay and Chet, who couldn’t stop making fun of some funny-looking guy wearing a jester’s hat whom he’d seen in the lobby. Madison tried pushing forward, to get a few steps closer to Hart, but Chet wouldn’t move. And she didn’t want to desert Lindsay, either.

The upstairs lobby overflowed with students who had the day off. Madison couldn’t believe how many moviegoers there were! She glanced around at the video screens, showing trailers for upcoming films. There was one called
Making Pointe.
It was about ballet.

Madison stared as a blond girl on-screen did pirouettes and high kicks.

Watching the trailer made her miss Aimee.

What was her BFF doing right now?

Fiona and Egg led everyone into the dark theater, securing their own seats somewhere near the middle. Next to them sat Drew and Elaine. On the outer edges the noncoupled friends sat, boys on one side, girls on the other.

Dan, Chet, and Hart sat together, chomping popcorn and cracking jokes.

Madison sat quietly on the other side, with Lindsay, Mariah, and Penelope.

I wish Aim were here, Madison thought again.

Out of the corner of her eye, Madison tried to get a glance at Hart. He was as far out of reach as a person could possibly be and still be in the same row. Madison could just about see the soles of his sneakers. She had never noticed before that his soles glowed in the dark. Then again, Madison had never sat in the dark with Hart.

Plink!

Madison flinched. Someone had zapped a kernel of popcorn at her head.

Plink!

“Hey!” Madison said softly. “Who did that?”

Fiona couldn’t stop laughing.

Egg tattled.

“It was Hart,” Egg said. He leaned over toward Madison and whispered so softly that only Fiona could hear. “He did it because he likes you.”

Madison gasped. She wanted to run away. If Lindsay hadn’t been sitting next to her, she just might have dashed out of the theater and kept on running until she was far, far away from all potential embarrassment.

Plink!

Madison stood up after the third plink. “Hart!” she cried.

Hart looked over. “What?” he asked innocently.

Madison folded her arms in front of her. “Quit shooting popcorn over here,” she said.

“It wasn’t me!” Hart said.

“It was
me,
Maddie!” Egg said with a huge laugh. Everyone else laughed then, including Hart.

Madison sat right back down again and buried her head in her hands. When it came to her crush, it didn’t take much to embarrass Madison Finn.

“Can you guys keep it down?” Mariah said. She glared at her brother. “Egg, cut it out, will you? Leave Madison alone. The movie’s about to start.”

Madison smiled through the darkness at Mariah. Maybe having a chaperone, especially one who was Egg’s older sister, wasn’t such a bad thing.

The lights dimmed, and everyone settled back for the movie.

Madison decided that she would spend the entire movie forgetting about the popcorn incident—and pretty much everything else. She wouldn’t think about Hart, Aimee, or
anything
except
Curse of the Diamond.

But then Madison saw something on the floor that caught her attention.

Something sparkled.

A zipper!

Over in the darkness, down by Penelope’s feet, was the black bag.

The black bag from the other day.

The black bag from Mr. Olivetti’s room.

And despite her wishes to forget about her detective work along with everything else that was bugging her, Madison couldn’t help wondering if the stolen sheet music was inside that bag.

What would Major DeMille have done?

Before the movie ended, Madison Finn was determined to figure out what was in that bag once and for all.

In the Bag


I’m so upset. I was this close to seeing inside Penelope’s black bag. THIS close. We were in the bathroom after the movie and she left it--OPEN--on the countertop. I peeked over and saw some papers in there (and they DID look like sheet music to me), but then she closed it, threw it over her shoulder, and walked out. Am I the lamest detective who ever lived or what?


Rude Awakening:
Today I thought catching Penelope would be easy, but solving this mystery is definitely NOT in the bag. LOL.


Sometimes it feels like the harder I try, the harder it gets. Gramma Helen said something like that to me once. She said, “The more you know, the less you know.” I always wondered what she meant by that. But today I understand a little better. I know more details about the crime, but it only means more suspects, more options, more confusion! Who can I turn to for help? If only Major had a hotline for junior detectives like me.


Right now I’m at Dad and Stephanie’s apartment. Even with the cast on her arm she’s cooking tonight. She’s making Indian food from a recipe she said she got off TV on the Wacky Chef Show.


On top of everything else, I’m not only a failed detective, I can’t even flirt right. How could I spend most of the movie thinking about the school mystery? Hart and I were FINALLY at the movies together! Even though we weren’t sitting close, I still could have figured out a way to talk to him more, right? Why do I get so nervous? Why was Egg teasing me so much? And why is Fiona always so clingy around Egg? And then we came out of the theater and it was pouring RAIN. I should have asked Hart if I could share his umbrella. Instead, I just got all wet.


Maybe Aimee was right after all about not going. The movie wasn’t even very good. Of course I had my eyes covered for like ten minutes when the army of cockroaches attacked one of the--


“Maddie?” Stephanie poked her head into Dad’s study, which was where Madison was typing on her laptop. She was taking her laptop everywhere these days so she could keep track of all of the evidence and her detective work. Writing made her feel better.

“Hi, there,” Madison replied, looking up from the monitor. “What’s up?”

“Dinner will be ready in a few. Your dad just ran out to get a bottle of wine. Can you help me in the kitchen?” Stephanie asked. “I made some appetizers for us.”

Madison hit
SAVE
and closed her laptop. She followed Stephanie back into the kitchen.

A plate of mini-vegetable samosas sat in the center of the kitchen counter. Madison grabbed one and took a bite. It was mostly potato and peas. And it wasn’t too spicy at all.

“Mmmm,” Madison said. She sat up on a stool. “How can I help?”

“I can do most things with my wrist, but not cutting; too awkward,” Stephanie explained. “I thought your dad had done it all, but I need these carrots grated for the salad.”

“Sure,” Madison offered. She jumped off the stool, grabbed the grater, and started in on the bag of prewashed carrots.

“Isn’t tonight
Crime Time
night?” Stephanie asked as they prepared the vegetables.

Madison shook her head. “No, the new episodes are on Fridays.”

“How is your detective work coming along?” Stephanie asked.

Madison didn’t answer. She just shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, that’s not too enthusiastic. What’s wrong?” Stephanie asked.

“I’m a little stuck with this crime at school,” Madison said. “I think I have all these great clues, and either they turn into dead ends or I miss getting what I really need to prove my case.”

“Sounds tricky,” Stephanie said. “What’s the case about?”

“I really shouldn’t talk about it, should I?” Madison asked. “Aren’t detectives supposed to keep their cases confidential?”

“That depends,” Stephanie whispered. “I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

“Okay, then, I guess I can tell you,” Madison said. “There’s a thief at school—and I found him… er… her.”

“A real thief?” Stephanie exclaimed. “Wow. How did you find proof?”

“That’s just it,” Madison said. “I haven’t exactly found the proof yet.”

“I see,” Stephanie said. “Tell me more.”

“Someone stole this very old, very rare sheet music from one of the music teachers at school. From my music teacher, Mr. Olivetti, actually. And I know who the thief is. Well, I’ve narrowed it down to a list of suspects, anyhow. That’s what
Crime Time
tells you to do. I want to do it the way they do it on the show.”

“I see,” Stephanie said again, thoughtfully biting her lip.

Madison handed Stephanie the plate of grated carrots. “What do you think?”

“Thanks for the carrots, Maddie,” Stephanie said. “Could you hand me that crushed-pepper olive oil?”

Madison grabbed the huge bottle of oil from the counter and passed it over to Stephanie, who was putting the finishing touches on some salad dressing.

“I think you’re off to a good start. Tell me how you made your list,” Stephanie said.

“Evidence, obviously,” Madison said. “That’s what Major DeMille on
Crime Time
looks for: hard evidence. Well, I guess in some ways my evidence is a little soft. But I’m working on it.”

“Have you been spending all your time solving this crime?” Stephanie asked. “When do you have time to do homework, or anything else?”

Madison didn’t know how to answer. The truth was that she had been getting a little bit behind in all of her subjects since the sleuthing had begun. But she couldn’t admit that to Stephanie.

Stephanie was Madison’s
stepmother
—and that meant that she had parental privileges now. She had the right to question and comment on things in a different way than she had before she married Dad. For example, if she found out that Maddie’s detective work was getting in the way of her grades, she might just tell Madison to stop.

“I get all my homework done first,” Madison lied. “
Then
I work on the clues to the mystery. But work always gets done first.”

Stephanie smiled. “Just make sure you don’t get too consumed by it all, Maddie. Remember what I said before this all started. Sometimes snooping can take you to places where you don’t belong—and where you might not want to be.”

“Oh, no,” Madison insisted. “That’s not me at all.”

“Tell me more about your prime suspect,” Stephanie said. “Maybe I can help you sort out the evidence.”

Madison described Penelope and the black bag Penelope had been carrying before the surprise party and at the movie theater earlier that day.

“And you’re sure the bag you saw is the one that belongs to Mr. Olivetti?” Stephanie asked.

Madison nodded. “Of course. I saw it sitting in his room with his things.”

“Did he say it was his bag? It could have belonged to someone else,” Stephanie suggested.

“Oh,” Madison said. She had never considered that the bag could have belonged to anyone except Mr. Olivetti.

“You said that Penelope is in ensemble, too, right?” Stephanie asked. “Maybe she was the one who left her bag there after a rehearsal…”

“Gee,” Madison said. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Is there anyone else in ensemble who could be the thief?” Stephanie asked.

Madison thought for a minute. Stephanie’s questions had her stumped. There were probably dozens of other students who had the motives and the opportunity (two of Major DeMille’s favorite words) to commit the crime.

The problem was that Madison hadn’t looked for them.

She hadn’t investigated other possible suspects beyond the ones who had crossed her path: Penelope, Lana, and Ivy. And of course, Ivy wasn’t really a likely suspect, but Madison had to put her on the list anyway, because Ivy was always up to no good.

All at once the title of Finnster, Private Eye, didn’t seem right anymore. Madison felt that woozy sensation that she always felt before getting really, really emotional.

Stephanie sensed that Madison was upset.

“Oh, Maddie, what’s wrong? You’re turning purple.”

“I’m a big faker,” Madison blurted. “What was I thinking? I’m no Major DeMille. It was a joke to think I could do this. How embarrassing. I’m a
faker
!”

“No,” Stephanie said. She reached over and put her arm around Madison’s shoulder. “Don’t give up. You are not a faker. It ain’t over till it’s over.”

“Easy for you to say,” Madison said.

“I have an idea. Why don’t you confront Penelope with the bag as evidence? She’ll be forced to tell the truth. Who knows? Maybe she is the guilty one.”

“How do I do that?” Madison asked.

“Ask her what’s in the bag,” Stephanie said. “I’m sure you’ll be able to see if she’s telling the truth or not. Then you’ll know whether or not she had anything to do with taking the sheet music. People often give themselves away. If she seems nervous or agitated when you question her—”

“You really
are
a good detective, aren’t you?” Madison interrupted.

“I told you. Nancy Drew,” Stephanie said with a shrug.

Just then, the front door flew open and Dad rushed inside clutching a bottle of wine and a pint of cherry ice cream, Madison’s favorite.

“Where’s dinner?” he joked.