The Fairy-Tale Detectives (The Sisters Grimm, Book 1) (11 page)

The door opened and a short, stout, pear-shaped man stepped out. He wore a beige police uniform with shiny black boots, a billy club at his utility belt, and a wide-brimmed hat that fastened under his three chins. His face was puffy and pink with a nose that angled slightly upward, so that a person could see up his nostrils. On his shirt was a shiny, tin star that read FERRYPORT LANDING SPECIAL FORCES and a name tag underneath it that said SHERIFF HAMSTEAD.

"Girls, why are you running?" the sheriff asked in an unusually high-pitched voice that sent shivers into Sabrina's belly.

"We thought you were trying to kill us," Daphne said angrily. Sabrina flashed her a look, letting her know that she would do the talking.

"I see. Well, I'm sorry if I gave you two a start, but it's not safe for little girls like yourselves to be walking out here in the dark. These roads can be treacherous," the sheriff said.

"Treacherous?" Daphne asked.

"Dangerous," Sabrina explained.

"I got a call that you were out here, so I came looking," the portly man continued as he hoisted his sinking pants up around his waist. "Why don't you two hop into the squad car and I'll take you home?" He pointed to Elvis. "I don't know if we can put your horse in there, but we'll try."

"He's not a horse," Daphne said. Then, realizing the sheriff was joking, she added, "You can't tease him. He's very sensitive."

Hamstead leaned down and scratched Elvis under the chin. "Oh, I'm sure he is, aren't you, Elvis?"

The big dog growled and snapped at the sheriff's hand.  Hamstead pulled it away just in time, but then rubbed it with his other hand as if the dog had gotten a lucky bite.

"How do you know Elvis?" Sabrina said suspiciously.

"Oh, Elvis and I have met before. You must be Relda Grimm's grandchildren. I heard you were in town," the man said. "I'm the local sheriff, Ernest Hamstead."

"I'm Daphne," the little girl offered.

"Sabrina," Sabrina muttered.

"So, do you two need a ride home or are you trying to raise a million dollars for the March of Dimes?"

Sabrina nodded and Hamstead opened the squad car's backdoor. Elvis clumsily climbed in and the sheriff shut the door behind him. Sabrina and Daphne walked around the car and got in on the passenger's side of the front seat.

Sheriff Hamstead squeezed and shifted his way into the car, breathing heavily as if carrying a great burden. He had left the keys in the ignition (Sabrina guessed so that he wouldn't have to fish them out of his tight pants), so as soon as he was settled, he started up the squad car and headed in the direction of Granny's house.

"So, I assume you two have already concocted some elaborate scheme to get your granny and her friend back?" Hamstead asked. The girls looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

"So you know about this?" Sabrina asked, dumbfounded.

"Yep," Sheriff Hamstead said. "Hard to miss a two-hundred-foot giant carrying grandmas away into the night, don't you think? I don't want you two girls to worry. Your granny is a tough cracker. I've seen her in bigger jams than this one and besides, she's got the entire Ferryport Landing Special Forces Squad working on the case. I know you two have been trained for this kind of thing, but we like to take care of our own problems here in Ferryport Landing."

Daphne cupped her hand around Sabrina's ear. "Have we been trained?" she whispered.

"I don't know what he's talking about," Sabrina whispered back.

"Are you an Everafter?" the little girl said, returning her attention to the sheriff.

The sheriff looked over and winked a yes at Daphne. She squealed in delight. "Which one?"

Suddenly, the squad car's CB radio crackled to life. "Hamstead? Sheriff Hamstead?" a man's voice fumed. It sounded oddly familiar to Sabrina.

The sheriff seemed nervous. When he tried to pick up the handset, it fumbled in his sweaty hand before he finally got ahold of it.

"I'm here, boss. En route now," Hamstead said.

"That's fantastic news, Hamstead. Nice to know you can do something that's asked of you. If you care at all, I picked up our little troublemaker about a half an hour ago and he's sitting in a cell as we speak. So all I'm asking from you is to get those little trolls back to the mansion, ASAP! I can't have any headaches ruining tomorrow's festivities."

Sabrina's heart froze and as she looked at her sister, she saw the same horror reflected in Daphne's eyes. The voice on the police radio was Mayor Charming's! The car had come to a stop sign, and Sabrina knew they had to act.

"Daphne, do you remember that time Mr. and Mrs. Donovan took us to that three-day lima bean cook-off festival?" Sabrina asked casually, hoping the girl would remember the crazy foster couple they had lived with for three weeks the previous year. The little girl grimaced, obviously remembering the pickled lima bean pie Mrs. Donovan was so proud of, but then a light in her eyes told Sabrina she also remembered their daring escape. Sabrina slipped her hand into her sister's and quickly pulled on the door handle. Before Hamstead could react, the girls were out of the car and freeing Elvis from the backseat.

"Hey!"

The sisters ran to the side of the road where a five-foot barbed-wire fence lined the edge of the forest. There was no way to climb it; the barbed wire's sharp teeth would tear them apart. Their only chance was to try to scurry between the rusty wires to the other side. Desperate, Sabrina stood on one of the wires, reached down and grabbed a safe spot on the next highest one, and pulled upward as hard as she could, creating a hole her sister could crawl through.

"Go!" Sabrina shouted, carefully watching the portly sheriff struggling out of the car. Daphne scampered through the small gap to the other side. The little girl got to her feet and tried to mimic the trick she had just seen Sabrina do. The result was a small gap Sabrina couldn't possibly fit through.

"It's heavy," Sabrina coached Daphne, "you have to be strong."

"I am!" the little girl cried, pulling harder.

"Girls, you can't run!" Hamstead shouted angrily, as he finally freed himself from the car. Elvis positioned himself between Sabrina and the sheriff and barked a warning when the man took a step forward.

Sabrina got down on her hands and knees and tried to crawl through, but before she could get to the other side, Hamstead, dodging Elvis, was on top of her, grabbing her legs and trying to pull her back out.

"You're coming with me!" he squealed.

Sabrina kicked wildly and looked back into the sheriff's face, and what she saw bewildered her. Sheriff Hamstead was going through a disturbing metamorphosis. His already pug nose became a slimy pink snout. His round face puffed up to three times its size, and his ears turned pink and pointy and migrated to the top of his head. His chubby fingers melded into thick black hoofs, and his back bent over until he was literally on all fours. Hamstead had turned into a pig—an angry, determined pig in a policeman's uniform.

"I can't hold it any longer," Daphne cried, wide-eyed at what she was witnessing. Sabrina kicked one more time and felt her foot sink into Hamstead's gelatinous belly. His piggy face turned white and he fell onto his back, honking and gasping for air as his little legs flailed back and forth. Just as suddenly as he had changed to a pig, he changed back to a man.

Daphne's arms gave out and the barbed wire came down on top of Sabrina, snagging her pants. Daphne vainly tried to lift it again, but the taut wire barely moved.

"What are we going to do?" Daphne cried as Hamstead staggered to his feet. He rushed toward Sabrina, this time as a full man. Suddenly, Sabrina heard a series of notes, as if someone in the woods was playing a flute, followed by a buzzing sound that grew closer and closer. Sabrina peered through the trees nervously, remembering the music from the night before.

"They're coming, aren't they?" Daphne said, and before she finished the question a cloud of little lights zipped out of the forest and surrounded them. This time the lights didn't attack. Instead, they hovered as if waiting for instructions. Another note pierced the night air and the little lights buzzed into action, perching on the barbed wires that had Sabrina caught and, with a flutter of wings, pushing at the lowest wire and pulling the other one up, creating a hole big enough for Sabrina to scamper through. When she got to the other side, the little lights let go of the wires.

Hamstead, trapped on the other side of the fence, squealed in frustration and searched for an opening. He waddled back and forth, huffing and grunting, but found nothing that would allow his human or pig form to pass. Desperately, he got to his hands and knees and tried to squeeze through the wires. And that's when Elvis made his move. The big dog ran full steam right at Hamstead like some kind of fur-covered locomotive. He leaped onto Sheriff Hamstead's broad back and used it as a springboard. The sheriff let out a painful grunt as Elvis sailed effortlessly over the top of the fence and landed on all fours.

The chubby policeman quickly recovered. He stood up, grabbed a fence post, and began to climb. Sabrina knew she had to do something. She grabbed another post and pushed all her weight against it. Discovering it was quite loose in the ground, she shook it back and forth as hard as she could, and the fence swayed uncontrollably.

"Hey, stop that!" Hamstead shouted nervously as he clung to the fence.

Daphne rushed to Sabrina's side and together they shook the fence even harder. Suddenly, with a loud tearing of fabric, Sheriff Hamstead's body thumped to the ground on his side of the fence. He groaned and let out an angry cry. After a moment, he picked himself up. Unfortunately, his pants had not survived the fall. They hung from the sharp teeth of the barbed-wire fence, leaving the sheriff in just a pair of droopy long Johns. Defeated, he hobbled back to his car.

"He's leaving," Sabrina said as she followed her sister into the dark woods.

"He turned into a pig," Daphne whispered.

"I saw him," Sabrina replied. "But I think we have another problem."

The little lights waited patiently ahead of them. They darted into the woods and then came back out, as if they wanted the girls to follow them.

"What do you want?" Sabrina asked, and the lights shimmered and blinked an answer.

"Should we follow them?" said Daphne.

"I don't see that we've got much of a choice," Sabrina said, thinking the lights might attack if they didn't.

She took her sister's hand and they walked through the dark woods, with Elvis trotting closely behind. Low-hanging branches blocked their path, and with each step the girls had to dodge and weave to get through. Several times Sabrina walked into trees, feeling the prickly spindles of a pine or the crusty bark of an oak tear at her clothes and skin. The lights guided them, slowing down occasionally to see if they were keeping up.

"They're making sure we're following them," Sabrina said, wondering if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Soon, the girls stepped into a clearing. In the center was a pile of junk. An old refrigerator, a couple of burned-out microwaves, some abandoned teddy bears, and a broken toilet had been assembled into a massive chair. Sitting on the junk "throne" was a boy with a mop of blond hair that was tussled and dirty. He wore a pair of baggy blue jeans and a green hooded sweatshirt in desperate need of a washing, and in his hand he held a small sword. But most interesting was the golden crown that rested on his head.

"Pixies," he called to the little lights. "What have you found?"

The little lights erupted into a loud buzzing.

"Spies, you say?" the boy asked. "Well, what do we do with spies?

There was more buzzing in response, and a wicked grin appeared on the boy's face.

"That's correct." He laughed. "We drown them!"

hen the girls protested their kidnapping, the army of pixies surrounded them and delivered several stings. Nursing their wounds, the girls were forced to follow the odd boy farther into the woods.