Clocks and Robbers (11 page)

“Dad!” Rosie cried, trying to answer him as vaguely as possible. She didn’t want to lie to her father. Besides, she
also
hoped they wouldn’t be getting into trouble.

A block before they reached the Moon Hollow Library, Rosie asked her father to let them out. He pulled up to the curb. “Don’t be too much longer,” he said. “I don’t want you kids out walking on these roads in this weather.” He waved good-bye, then drove off with a short honk.

They stood before One Cent Savings and
Trust. Lights were on in the bank. “Is Bill working today?” asked Sylvester.

Woodrow rolled his eyes. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“But aren’t we going inside?” said Rosie. “Maybe he can help us.”

“The frame told us to go to number thirty-four Maple Avenue.” Woodrow nodded at the number above the bank’s front door. Thirty-six. “Wrong address.”

Viola stepped away from the building to get a better view of the street. “Then we need to go next door to—”

“The abandoned storefront,” said Woodrow. “I think this used to be … huh.” He chuckled, reading the faded gold paint that was chipping from the store’s window. “Clintock’s watch repair store.”

“How did we not notice this before?” said Viola, trying to contain her excitement.

“Even if we had,” said Sylvester, “it wouldn’t have meant what it does now.” He went up to the front door. Inside, the store was pitch-dark. Dust coated the glass. Litter and snow had blown through a rusted accordion gate into the main vestibule. Behind the gate, the door was shut, a faded curtain drawn closed.

Rosie began, “How are we supposed to —” when Sylvester reached for the gate and tried to tug it open. To everyone’s surprise, it gave way
and slid open. “That’s weird.” Next, Sylvester tried the doorknob. It turned in his hand.

“Wait,” said Viola. “We promised Mr. Smithers we’d be careful. Is it the smartest thing to go in by ourselves?”

Before anyone had the chance to answer, a gust of wind came up the street, snatching the knob out of Sylvester’s grip. The door squeaked open, a stale scent wafted out, and the full darkness of the old store revealed itself to them. The group gave a collective sigh, knowing what they had to do. Pausing before the accordion gate, Viola glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one was watching them. She paid special attention to any cars that might be nearby—looking closely for Mr. Galby’s ugly truck. But the street was clear. And with the sun beginning to disappear, the town had turned an eerie shade of blue, as if someone had spread watercolor paint all over Moon Hollow’s snow white canvas. Holding her breath, she followed her friends inside.

A few moments later, their eyes began to adjust to the lack of light. The store was crowded with empty glass cases that were, they imagined, once filled with timepieces for sale.

“What was that?” said Sylvester, backing up against the nearest case. “I heard a noise.” He nodded to the far wall, where another doorway opened upon a dark hallway. “It sounded like footsteps.”

“Is someone here?” Rosie whispered, edging close to Viola.

“That would explain why the front door was open,” said Viola.

“What do we do?” Sylvester asked. No one wanted to move. They all listened for a few more seconds.

“Maybe it’s an animal,” said Rosie. “A mouse or a squirrel.”

“Or a rabid raccoon?” said Sylvester. “I don’t know about this.”

“We probably scared it off, whatever it was,” Woodrow said.

“Or whoever?” Viola said, blowing into her hands to warm them. “We’ve come this far. We can’t stop now.” She stepped forward. “Hello?” she called to the darkness.

“What are you doing?” Sylvester whispered harshly.

“Trying to figure out what’s going on here,” Viola answered. “I checked outside for Mr. Galby’s truck. If someone is here, it’s not him.”

“That’s pretty shoddy reasoning,” said Sylvester. “I don’t want to end up locked in here. Or worse!”

Viola was fed up with chasing clues. She wanted answers—now. She stepped toward the dark hallway. “I wish I’d brought my flashlight.”

“Me too,” said Sylvester, following close behind.

They crept slowly forward, feeling their way along the tight corridor. Shortly, they found themselves in a large, empty room. It didn’t seem like anyone was hiding in here, which made them instantly feel better. In the darkness, they made out a couple curtained windows in the far wall. Viola went over and pulled the curtains open; the shades fluttered noisily at the tops of the window frames. Dim light now filtered through the dirty glass, and the group could see the room in which they stood. A long metal desk against one wall indicated that once upon a time, this place must have been a work area. A small toolbox sat on one end of the table.

Maybe it was that there was not much else in the room to explore, but Viola was drawn toward the box on the table. The other three followed. She used her fingers to brush the thick layer of dust from the top of the container. It looked like it hadn’t been opened in some time.

“What’s inside?” Sylvester asked. Silently they all wondered the same thing: Were they about to uncover the treasure?

“One way to find out,” said Woodrow.

“You do the honors, Viola,” said Rosie. “You’re the one who had the guts to come in here.”

Viola lifted the lid. The hinges squeaked as the cover swung open. She sighed when she saw the contents. Tools in a toolbox? Big surprise. She felt she should have known better. Behind
her, the group tensed. They were just as disappointed.

“Hold on,” said Sylvester, tapping Viola on the shoulder. “Can I see?” He stepped closer to the table, peering into the container. “This looks familiar. My magic kit is set up the same way. Look, the floor of the box isn’t as deep as it should be, which means …” He reached into the box and felt along the sides. “There’s a false bottom.” He pulled up on a small drawer that had been nestled inside. “There is more hidden here. Underneath.” He grabbed something from the box’s secret compartment and held it up for his friends to see. It was an old-fashioned-looking key.

“Holy cow,” said Woodrow. Viola and Rosie silently shook their heads in disbelief.

“Where does it fit?” Sylvester asked, glancing around the room. The light outside was growing ever dimmer. Streetlights flickered on across the back alley, casting long swatches of illumination and ominous shadow through the windows. “There’s nothing here to open.”

“Maybe what it opens isn’t in this room,” said Woodrow.

“Can I see it?” Rosie asked. Sylvester handed her the key. After a few seconds, she looked up at her friends, her mouth parted in shock. She said nothing. Instead, she simply held the key up into the light from outside. They all observed
what Rosie had: At the top of the key, three images had been sculpted into an elaborate, intertwined pattern.

Viola spoke, enchanted. “The cherry. The leaf. The acorn.”

“A final clue?” said Woodrow. “Telling us where to find the lock that will reveal the treasure of the Timekeepers?”

“Maybe,” said Rosie. “Hopefully.”

Sylvester threw his hands into the air.
“So, where the heck is this lock?”

Woodrow didn’t even wait to answer. “Up the street.”

Rosie nodded. “At the library.”

“And
at the train station,” Viola added.

Sylvester gasped. “And near the college’s entry gate?”

The rest of them nodded. “The clocks,” said Rosie.

“The cherry. The leaf. The acorn,” said Viola. “All the streets. All the addresses. All of the Timekeepers’ clues led us to this discovery. It was like they wanted someone to find what they’d hidden.”

“So, what are we waiting for?” said Sylvester. “Let’s go get it!”

Outside, the glow of the streetlights turned the snow into a dreamlike orange sorbet. This color against the darkening sky made the town look candy coated, almost too sweet. Too safe. The roads were empty; the entire world was quiet. The group dashed up the block, toward the clock in the indent of the library’s plaza. They were too enthralled to notice the familiar pickup truck parked across the street from the diner.

They crossed Main Street and finally reached their destination. The library was now closed, the windows dark. The tall clock appeared to be staring up and down the street, on the lookout for danger. The half-moon window, through
which the cherry peeked, grinned as if congratulating them on their hard work. “Right back where we started,” said Viola quietly, almost to herself.

Rosie clutched the key in her hand. For a moment, the object seemed to throb, but then Rosie realized it was her heart making her feel this way. “Look,” she whispered. “Near the base. A small hole. A perfect fit.”

“Do it,” said Sylvester.

Someone coughed, and the group froze. They immediately knew that they were not alone. Stepping from the shadows, Phineas Galby appeared, wearing a wide, frightening smile. He held his hands out to them. “You have something for me?”

Rosie spoke up, saying the first thing that came to mind. “But it’s not Monday yet.”

“I don’t care what day it is,” said Phineas. “I want what belongs to me.” He began to walk forcefully toward them. He was no longer playing games. The clock was the only thing between him and the Question Marks.

Woodrow shouted, “Run!”

Slipping on the snow, the group turned and ran back in the direction of the abandoned store. Phineas huffed and puffed not far behind them. They reached Main Street, unsure which way to go. They needed a place to hide. But Phineas’s footsteps were coming closer. Leading the way,
Woodrow was about to head toward the diner when a voice called out from across the street.

“Woodrow!” It was Bill. He stood just outside One Cent Savings and Trust. Woodrow had never been so happy to see him. The group raced toward the bank, leaving Phineas flabbergasted and out of breath on the other side of the road. Bill stared for a few intense seconds at the man who’d been chasing the kids. Then as if flipping a switch, he greeted the group jovially. “Your mom’s been looking for you!” he said loudly, as if he wanted Phineas to hear him. “Enough games for today. You kids must be freezing. Come inside.” He nodded at the bank. Then, glancing back across the street, he called to Phineas, “And good night to you. Hope you make it safely back to where you belong. Roads in these parts can be dangerous on nights like these.”

Woodrow’s throat began to close. Why was Bill talking to Phineas as if he knew him? Suddenly, he wasn’t sure following Bill was the best idea either. But now, what choice did they have?

The bank was warm. Bill told them to wait in his office while he closed up.

After a few seconds, Sylvester spoke up. “What the heck just happened?”

Still clutching the key, Rosie shook her head. “I knew we should have told our parents what was happening. About the treasure.”

“Treasure?” said a female voice from the hallway outside the office. The door swung the rest of the way open. When they saw who was there with Bill, the Question Marks all stood. Shocked. Ms. Dzielski, their principal, wore a long black coat. She crossed her arms and bit her bottom lip. “What treasure?”

Bill sighed. “Margaret, we don’t need to confuse them any more than we already have. They’ve come this far. Now it’s time we gave them answers.”

As it turned out, the man who called himself Phineas Galby was not the only one who’d been tracking the Question Marks on their journey through Moon Hollow that day. Another group had been paying close attention to them ever since their discovery of Clintock’s clock clues at the beginning of November.

Ms. Dzielski sat behind Bill’s desk, looking just as authoritative as she had on the day she’d invited them into her office. Bill stood beside her. “Let me start by saying you’ve all behaved really irresponsibly,” said the principal. “Sneaking around, not telling anyone what you were up to, especially after being approached by a complete stranger who obviously has some screws loose …”

Each of the four blushed, their faces burning. Was she going to give them detention,
make them write one-thousand-word essays, expel them?
Could
she even do that here, they wondered?

“Margaret,” said Bill, with a hint of frustration, “we agreed.”

Ms. Dzielski sighed. “Sorry. There’s something you kids need to know. The society you ‘discovered,’ the Timekeepers of Moon Hollow … Well, they still exist.”

“You’re looking at two of them,” said Bill.

“What?” said Woodrow, glancing up at his mom’s new boyfriend, all of his suspicions suddenly confirmed.

“We’ve been keeping tabs on you four,” Ms. Dzielski continued. “We needed to find out exactly what you knew about us. That’s one of the reasons I asked you to my office a month ago.”

“And is that why Bill kept asking me about the mysteries my friends and I try to figure out?” said Woodrow, trying to control his temper. “Is that why you started going out with my mom?”

Now it was Bill’s turn to blush. “Of course not. You know your mother and I met each other before you guys took on the mystery of the clocks.”

“But you still used my mom to get close to me,” Woodrow insisted. “You said it yourself. You wanted to know what we knew—if we were keeping anything else a secret.”

“You wanted to know if we knew anything about the treasure!” said Sylvester, sticking up for his friend.

Bill shook his head. “I’m sorry if that’s what you think, Woodrow. But your mom and I would have become close even if the Timekeepers never existed.”

Ms. Dzielski added, “It was our duty though, as members, to try to learn what we could. The secrets of the Timekeepers have never been compromised before. We are more than pleased with how you worked it all out. If it wasn’t for your curiosity, we might never have learned the whereabouts of the first Timekeepers’ so-called treasure.”

The four were so shocked they couldn’t move. “You mean, all this time, you didn’t know where it was?” Woodrow managed to ask.

The principal shook her head. “Once Bill and I realized that you hadn’t already discovered the treasure, we hoped that you’d eventually look for it. We could tell you were onto something today, and we’ve been watching with interest. When we saw you approaching from down the block, Bill snuck back inside the bank. I thought I’d have a better view from the old space next door, which is owned collectively by the Timekeepers. I didn’t mean to leave the entrance unlocked—but then, I didn’t expect that was where you were headed.” She shrugged. “Once you were inside, I stayed
quiet, hidden in the workroom closet. I was flabbergasted when you discovered that key and reasoned out what it opened. To think it had been right under our noses all along! After you left the store, I ran and told Bill what had happened. We were about to follow you there and reveal everything. But then that man showed up. He chased you. And plans changed. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”