Stacey And The Mystery At The Mall (10 page)

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 passed 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 cushions for Musical Cushions. (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 cushions, and then eight, and so on until everybody's all packed together on one little cushion. There's always a ton of giggling during Musical Cushions.)

"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 nobody 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 class 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 shirt? 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 shirt?" Kristy asked.

"No!" exclaimed Mary Anne, blushing. ''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.

"What if he was?" asked Mary Anne. "He's a nice guy, right? So, he talks to people at the mall. Why should that mean anything bad?"

Kristy sat down on the floor, and I stood up and took her place pacing around the room. I was thinking about Mr. Morton. I went over everything we knew about him. He had only managed the mall for a few months. He was a really nice, likable guy. He was willing to do all kinds of things to improve the mall and its image. The mall was in financial trouble.

"I wonder if — " Mary Anne began, but I interrupted her.

"Whoa!" I said. "I think I just figured it all out!" I stood stock still, next to my desk. Mary Anne and Kristy looked shocked. "Well, maybe not all of it," I went on. "But listen. I think I know what’s going on. You know how

everybody says Mr. Morton is such a nice guy? Well, that’s the problem."

"What do you mean?" asked Kristy.

"What’s wrong with being a nice guy?" asked Mary Anne.

'I'll tell you," I said. I started to pace again, around and around. Past the desk, past the closet, past the bureau, past the bed. Then I started talking fast. "That’s how he got himself — and the mall — into such a mess. He's such a nice guy that he can't say no to anybody. He wants to do everything he can to help the mall and the community. So he says yes to benefit concerts, special discount programs, and even day-care centers."

"But those are all good things," said Mary Anne, looking confused.

"I agree." I stopped pacing and stood near my current favorite poster (it’s a photo of a basset hound with a funny-sad expression). "But they cost money. In order to do those things, Mr. Morton must have run through all the money in the mall's account. Then maybe he started to, well, 'misappropriate funds,' like it said in the newspaper, to cover up his mistakes."