Peril at Granite Peak (13 page)

“Really?” Joe stared at him. “Is that true, or were you lurking around to see the results of your prank?”

Stanley frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Give it up, Stanley. We know it was you.” I stepped
closer. “I saw you coming in earlier. How'd you figure out how to rig that avalanche?”

“Yeah,” Joe added. “And did you know it'd be Rick, or were you willing to take out whoever happened along?”

“I suppose you're the one who sabotaged the generator yesterday too,” I said. “We should have guessed when we saw you wander in with wet hair after it happened.”

Stanley's face darkened, and he glanced at the door. “You're crazy,” he snapped. “You're probably the ones who messed up the generator. In fact, I'm going to go tell the Gallaghers that right now!”

He took off in the direction of the lobby. Joe and I followed.

When we arrived, board games were spread out on all the coffee tables. I vaguely remembered hearing something about a tournament happening that day—just another of the special snow-day activities. The Richmond kids were gathered around one game board, while their parents hovered nearby, staring in the direction of the infirmary with concern. The honeymooners were in the lobby too—Nate was warming himself in front of the fire while Cassie rubbed his back. Even Chet had emerged from his sickbed—probably because Rick needed it more—and was perched on the arm of a leather sofa, watching Poppy play Scrabble with the older maid and the chef. Josie was nowhere in sight, and neither were Rick or Mrs. Gallagher. I was sure the latter two were in the infirmary, but I had no idea where Josie might be. Blizz was also missing—she wasn't at Cody's side for once. I guessed she
was probably in the infirmary keeping watch over Rick.

Stanley was already whining at Mr. Gallagher. I marched up to him.

“Don't believe a word he says,” I said, glaring at Stanley. “You did all of it, didn't you?” I accused him. “The avalanche just now, the generator, the glass in the waffle . . .”

“You're crazy!” Stanley said again, sounding slightly hysterical. “I'm the victim here!”

“Right.” Joe stepped forward. “The victim and the perpetrator. You're pretty much the only one who doesn't have an alibi for when the generator went out.”

“What?” Mrs. Richmond spoke up. “But I thought the storm did that.”

Mr. Gallagher looked grim. “Not exactly,” he told the woman. “Boys, are you sure about this?”

“I believe we can prove he cut the generator lines yesterday,” Joe said. “For one thing, Frank and I saw him leaving the kitchen a few minutes before it happened—probably about the time the chef's scissors went missing.” He quickly explained about that incident.

Then I picked up the story. “Besides, it's simple process of elimination. When the power went out, most of us were right here.” I glanced around, taking in the various guests and staff members.

“Not everybody,” Stanley put in quickly. “I'm sure not everybody was here.”

“What about the maids and Rick?” Nate spoke up.
Every-one except the kids was gathered around us by now. “I don't think any of them were here. I remember, because I wanted to ask if they'd seen my book while they were working around the lodge.”

“I can vouch for two of them,” Poppy said, nodding at the older maid. “She was picking up the laundry from my room when it happened. And Rick was changing a lightbulb in my room.”

“That's right,” the maid said. “Miss Song and I had quite a lovely scream together when the lights went out. I'm not sure Rick was too amused.” Both women smiled.

“What's going on out here?” Mrs. Gallagher said, appearing from the direction of the infirmary.

“How's Rick?” her husband asked.

“Cold. But he's okay.”

That was a relief. Taking turns, Joe and Mr. Gallagher and I quickly filled her in.

“We're just figuring out if there was anyone except Stanley unaccounted for when the power went out,” Mr. Gallagher added.

“What about Josie?” the chef said. “That girl's been missing in action most of the day. Including now.”

“It wasn't Josie,” Cody blurted out.

His father turned to look at him. “How do you know?” he asked.

Cody's face reddened. “I just know, okay? I—I was with her.”

Mrs. Gallagher looked puzzled. “What?”

Before I knew it, Cody was confessing the whole Josie situation to his parents. They looked confused at first, and a bit disapproving about certain parts. But the actual Cody-and-Josie part? They looked kind of delighted about that.

“But this is wonderful,” Mrs. Gallagher said. “You and Josie? How'd I miss that? And right under my nose, too!”

Her husband cleared his throat. “Er, we can discuss that later. Right now, let's focus on the situation at hand.”

I noticed that Stanley was edging toward the door. Where did he think he was going? There was no escape out there. Not unless he had a snowmobile hidden outside.

Nate noticed him too. “Stop right there, pal,” he said, stepping over and blocking Stanley's path. “Are you going to confess or what?”

“Who's going to make me?” Stanley sneered. Suddenly seeming to think better of the comment, he took a quick step back.

Everyone was staring at him. Mr. Gallagher looked very serious. “The phone lines are up and running again, and I expect the police will be able to get here before long,” he said. “They'll have a few questions about all this.”

He stepped forward and took Stanley by the arm. Nate grabbed the other arm.

“Hey!” Stanley protested, trying vainly to wiggle free. “Get your hands off me! I'll sue for assault!”

The two men dragged him away, ignoring his pleas and threats. Joe and I watched them go.

“Well,” Joe said. “I suppose that's another case closed.”

•  •  •

The local police arrived on snowmobiles within the hour. We weren't there for the interrogation, but Cody was. Afterward, he told us it hadn't been long before Stanley broke down and started confessing to most of the mischief.

“Stanley admitted to icing the steps, and putting the glass in the waffle batter,” Cody said. He, Chet, Joe, and I were sipping hot cocoa in the otherwise deserted dining room. “He was planning to be the ‘victim' of both those pranks himself so he'd have a concrete reason to sue the lodge. Apparently that's what he does—travels all across the country setting up ‘accidents' and then suing for a boatload of money.”

Joe made a face. “Classy.”

“What about getting locked out in the storm?” I asked. “Was that a setup too?”

Cody nodded. “That too. Apparently that one almost went wrong in a big way. He was just going to lock himself out—he swiped a key from the office to do it—and then stay out long enough to look cold before he pounded on the door to come back in. And of course he had the key in case nobody heard him. But he misjudged how bad the storm was and ended up wandering out too far and getting disoriented.” He dropped his hand to stroke Blizz, who was
sitting quietly by his side. “So Blizz really did save his life that time.”

“Wow.” Joe whistled. “Stanley sabotaged the generator, too?”

Cody nodded. “That one was just to make the lodge look bad, I guess. He's the one who broke the kitchen window, too—apparently he slammed it down too hard after he tossed the scissors out. He also set up that avalanche on the ski shack roof, again planning to become the victim himself—only of course he knew when it was coming, so he could make sure it didn't totally bury him.”

“That part was actually pretty slick,” Chet said, his words still a little garbled. “I'm not sure I'd be able to rig up something like that.”

“Yeah. Too bad Stanley uses his powers for evil instead of good.” Joe looked puzzled. “There's one part I don't get, though. Why'd he hide Nate's book and the kid's boots and all that other stuff? Was that just making the lodge look bad again? Because it seems kind of petty compared to the rest.”

“Dad asked him about that.” Cody looked troubled. “Stanley insisted he didn't know anything about the missing stuff. Didn't even seem to realize it had turned up in that cabinet.”

“Weird,” I said. Then I shot Cody a sidelong look. Could he or Josie be the petty thieves? Maybe one of them had been trying to “un-frame” the other by snitching the stuff.

Either way, it didn't seem worth worrying about. Joe and I had solved the case.

•  •  •

By the time we finished breakfast the next morning, the road was officially open. Mr. Gallagher offered to drive Joe, Chet, and me to town when he went to officially press charges against Stanley down at the police station. After recovering from his ordeal, Rick had been so grateful to us for saving him that he'd offered to take a look at the jalopy. He'd quickly identified the part Chet needed and offered to help him fix it. We were planning to pick the part up in town, return to the lodge, and with any luck be on the road for Bayport Sweet Bayport right after lunch.

When we entered the lobby, Mr. Gallagher wasn't there yet, but Cody was straightening the magazines on a coffee table. Blizz was across the room, curled up in front of the fire.

“You guys getting ready to take off?” Cody asked.

“Yeah.” Chet's voice sounded better, though he wasn't a happy camper about the liquid diet he was on until his cuts healed. “But we'll be back in a bit.”

We were telling him about the jalopy situation when Poppy hurried into the lobby with her laptop tucked under her arm. She spotted Cody and stopped short, glancing around the room. Then she came forward more slowly.

“Listen,” she said, her gaze skittering off toward the fire, then returning to Joe and me. “It's really amazing how you
guys figured out what was going on around here. I'd love to interview you.”

“Interview us?” I echoed. “What do you mean?”

“For my blog.” Poppy held up the laptop. “I write for one of the big travel sites. That's why I'm here.” She shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “I was supposed to be undercover, but I guess it won't hurt to reveal myself now.”

“Undercover?” Suddenly things made a lot more sense. “So that's why you stayed when your friends left.”

“Busted,” she admitted cheerfully. “I thought about leaving too, but I wanted to see how the lodge handled the whole blizzard thing. Figured it would be a good angle for my article about the place.”

“So that's why you were always asking so many questions,” Joe said.

I nodded. Come to think of it, Poppy was pretty nosy. “Is that why you kept disappearing, too?” I asked, trying to figure out how that part fit in.

Poppy looked abashed. “Not exactly.” Her gaze wandered toward the fireplace again. “I'm, um—sort of terrified of . . . dogs.”

“Huh?” I glanced over at Cody's dog, who looked about as unthreatening as possible. “You mean like Blizz?”

“And Toy Toy.” Poppy's face went red. “Size doesn't matter. They just freak me out. I'm not sure why.”

As if sensing that we were talking about her, Blizz stood,
stretched, and wandered toward us. Poppy let out a squeak of fear.

“It's okay.” Cody hurried over and took Blizz by the collar. “I've got her, see? She won't hurt you.”

Poppy nodded, though she didn't look fully convinced. Keeping one eye on Blizz, she addressed Joe and me again. “So how about it?” she said. “Can I interview you? The Net would eat up the story of the teenage detectives who collared a criminal. You three would be famous!”

Chet smiled, seeming to like that thought. But Joe and I probably shouldn't let this story get out on the Internet, where everyone could see it.

“Um . . .” I thought fast. Glancing at Cody and Blizz, I smiled. “I have a better idea,” I said, figuring I might as well kill two birds with one stone. “Why don't you do your article about Blizz?”

“The dog?” Poppy looked nervous. “What do you mean?”

Joe had caught on by now. “People love stories about animals,” he told Poppy, echoing Cody's words to us the day before. “That could be your angle—hero dog saves the day! You could write about how she saved Stanley and also Rick.”

I held my breath as Poppy studied Blizz—from a safe distance—with a little frown on her face. Would the dog-phobic journalist be convinced?

“I suppose you're right,” she said after a moment, taking
a cautious half step forward. “Are you sure she's friendly?”

“Super friendly,” Cody assured her. “Come closer—I'll keep hold of her if you want to try petting her.”

Blizz's long pink tongue lolled out of her mouth as Poppy approached. If a dog could smile, that was what she was doing. Even Poppy seemed to sense it. She gave the dog a quick pat, then stepped back.

“Okay,” she said with a nervous smile. “She does seem nice. . . .”

Spotting Mr. Gallagher coming in, we left Poppy shooting questions at Cody so fast he hardly had time to answer.

Mr. Gallagher saw us and jingled his keys. “Ready to go, boys?”

“We're ready,” Chet said.

Just then Toy Toy trotted into the lobby, carrying a kid-size mitten. “Uh-oh,” I said, shooting a look over at Poppy, who was typing away on her laptop as she and Cody talked. I didn't want the tiny dog to spook her just when she seemed ready to overcome her fear.

I stepped toward Toy Toy, planning to scoop him up and find Josie. But the tiny dog evaded me, dashing toward the cabinets by the fireplace.

“What's he doing?” Chet wondered.

My eyes widened as the poodle nosed open the lowest, narrowest cabinet door and deposited the mitten inside. Then he nudged the door shut again.

“It was Toy Toy!” I exclaimed with a laugh as the last puzzle piece snapped into place. “He's the petty thief! He must have started stealing stuff when Josie started letting him out around the guests more because of the blizzard.”