Stacey And The Mystery Of Stoneybrook (11 page)

"This is the big day, right, Stacey?" she said. "I wonder if Mr. Hennessey's stories were for real. I guess we'll know for sure soon."

Just then the workmen came out of the house. I guess they'd been making some last-minute preparations. One of them got into the operator's seat of a crane standing nearby and turned it toward the house. The big wrecking ball swung forward and crashed into the uppermost tower. This was it!

The ball kept swinging and the crowd hushed as we all watched the house start to crumble before our eyes. Charlotte held my hand tightly. The few windows that were left in the house shattered as the ball shook the building. The porch railing finally let go entirely and fell off into the weeds below. It

wasn't long before the whole second story was gone, and it was clear that the rest of the job would go quickly. I started to calm down. It looked as though nothing were going to happen after all.

Boy, was I wrong. Just then, I saw something
very
awful. The house — what was left of it — suddenly went up in flames. The fire crackled and roared as it engulfed the wreckage. I looked around, terrified. What should we do? But everybody was just standing there, looking slightly bored. Kristy had wandered off to talk to Sam. Charlotte was watching one of the workmen pack his tools away into his truck. Nobody else seemed to see the fire!

I turned back to check again. Maybe I'd been imagining things once more. But the flames were even higher by now. Smoke curled up as the fire moved quickly through the tumbledown structure. And then, just as in my dream, I saw a figure. It was calling for help. It looked like an old, old man. Was it — could it be — Mr. Hennessey? I couldn't believe my eyes. Just as in my dream, my feet were rooted to the ground. I wanted to help, but what could I do? Then I felt Charlotte tugging on my hand.

"Let's go, Stacey," she said. "This is getting kind of boring. Nothing weird happened at

all. I guess there wasn't really any mystery after all. Mr. Hennessey probably is just a crazy old man."

I shook my head, trying to dear my thoughts. What was going on? When I looked at the house again, there was no fire. But I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it had to do with Mr. Hennessey. I felt like he needed help, and like it was up to me to go to him. It was the weirdest feeling, let me tell you, but it was overwhelming and I couldn't ignore it. .

I dragged Charlotte over to where Claud stood with Myriah and Gabbie. "Claud, can you watch Charlotte for a little while? I've got to go see Mr. Hennessey, right now," I said breathlessly. She must have thought I was nuts, but she just nodded. Charlotte looked up at me, confused. But there was trust in her eyes, too. I think she could see that somehow this meant a lot to me. I knelt down and gave her a hug. "Be good, Char. I'll be back soon," I said.

I took off for Stoneybrook Manor, running until I got a stitch in my side, then walking, then running some more. I still didn't understand exactly why I felt I had to go there, but the feeling was stronger than ever. It seemed to take ages to reach the home, but finally I

stood on the sidewalk, just as I had yesterday, looking at Stoneybrook Manor. I took a deep breath, walked up the path, and pushed open the door. The man at the reception desk rose from his seat as I approached.

"How may I help you?" he asked, just as he had yesterday. I could see that he didn't remember me.

"I ... I'm here to see Mr. Ronald Hennessey, please," I said. I was still breathing hard from all that running.

The man's eyes lit up. He did remember me! But then a sad look came over his face. He walked around his desk and put his hand on my shoulder. He looked straight into my eyes and said, "I'm so sorry to have to give you this unhappy news, but Mr. Hennessey passed away just last night."

Chapter 15.

I was in shock. Mr. Hennessey was dead! I just couldn't believe it.

And I couldn't say a word. I must have looked pretty silly. Finally, someone spoke. "Aren't you Stacey McGill?" It was the woman, Ruth, who had wheeled Mr. Hennessey out to see us.

"Mr. Hennessey couldn't stop talking about you after you left," she said. "He was very pleased to make your acquaintance. He left this note for you." She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me.

I took the note and thanked her. Then I walked over to the lounge and sat down to read it. Sure enough, my name was on the outside of the paper. "Miss
Stacey McGill"
it said, in an old-fashioned-looking script. I opened it up.

"Dear Miss McGill,"
I read. "I
hope to be able to tell you this in person, but if for some reason I cannot, this letter will serve my purpose."

It was almost as if he'd known he was going to die! I read some more.

"I enjoyed our brief meeting. You and your friends brought a moment of interest and a spark of fun to a lonely old man's life. In fact, I'm afraid that I must confess to being a bit carried away with your 'mystery.' "

What was he saying?

"I sincerely hope that my tall tales did not disturb you too greatly. And, to set the record straight, there was not one grain of truth in any of them! I know that children your age love a mystery, but please don't be too sad that this one is over. That old house was nothing but a lovely and comfortable home for my family and me."

The note went on for a few more lines, but that was his basic message. There was no mystery after all. I felt relieved, but I
was
a little sad that it was all over. And I definitely felt sad that Mr. Hennessey was gone. He seemed to have known all about what we were going through, without our even having to tell him. Plus now we'd never know the whole truth about the house.

I walked slowly out of the lobby and up the

path. The honking of a car horn made me look up. Kristy waved at me from the backseat of Charlie's car.

"We came to pick you up, Stace!" she called. "Claudia told us you were here."

I was glad to see them, and not just because I wouldn't have to walk home now. I still felt shaky, and it was good to see familiar faces and have someone to talk to. I climbed into the backseat. Charlie started the car and we drove off.

I told Kristy about Mr. Hennessey. Then I showed her the note. She read it and smiled. "I knew it;" she said. "Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted."

"But Kristy, what about all the weird things that happened to me and Charlotte?" I asked. "And to Claud and Mal? We still don't know how to explain them."

"Listen to what Charlie and Sam have to say about that," she said.

It turned out that Sam and Charlie had spent some time talking with the workmen once the house was demolished. The workmen had explained the whole process they'd gone through in taking it down, and a lot of other things got explained along the way. Charlie and Sam had heard about our "mystery" from

Kristy, so they were especially interested in clearing up some of the stranger things we'd seen and heard.

"That moaning sound
was
the pipes, Stacey,” said Charlie, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. "The plumbing was ancient, and it took those guys forever to get it out intact. But the Historical Society insisted."

Sam turned to smile at me. "And you know that fire you and Charlotte saw? Well, there
was
one workman who stayed behind that day. He was using an acetylene torch to loosen the bathtub from its fittings. It must have been his face you saw at the window that first day, too."

Kristy was grinning. "And remember those yucky flies that reminded you of that movie?" she said. "That was a bunch of bees whose hive had been disturbed by those guys. You're lucky you didn't get stung!"

I listened to everything they said, and it was clearer and dearer that
all
the members of the Baby-sitters Club had let their imaginations work overtime. I guess we kind of enjoyed being scared. But there was still one mystery left. Why had I seen the house go up in flames when it was being knocked down? I guess I had just been imagining things again, remembering my nightmare. I decided to forget about that "fire." If I told Kristy now, she'd think I was crazy!

Kristy and I decided not to tell the others all the details that Charlie and Sam had told us. The mystery was over, but we didn't have to take all the fun out of it for everyone else!

I asked Charlie to drop me off at the Perkinses' so I could pick up Charlotte. "Thanks for the ride," I called as I hopped out.

Claud was sitting on the front porch with Gabbie, Myriah, and Charlotte. She was reading to the girls from a book of fairy tales. They all looked up as I crossed the lawn. Then Charlotte hugged me.

"Hi, Char," I said. "Ready to go?" I looked over at Claud. She looked back at me curiously, but I just shook my head slightly, so she'd know that I didn't want to talk about anything just then. We've been best friends for so long now that it doesn't take much to get an idea across.

"Thanks, Claud," I said.

Charlotte started to ask about my trip to Stoneybrook Manor, but I gave her a vague answer and then got her off the track by reminding her of what was going to happen in just a little while. "Charlotte, let's go back to my house. Guess who'll be there really soon?"

"My parents!" she yelled, remembering. "They're coming to get me today! 'Bye, Gabbie! 'Bye, Myriah! 'Bye, Claudia!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me down the street.

Charlotte and I spent the rest of the afternoon packing up her belongings. Then we played a few games of War while we waited for her parents to arrive. A couple of times she brought up the house and the "mystery," but I steered the conversation away from those topics.

We'd just gotten started on our fourth game of War (after that week I hoped I'd never play it again) when we heard a car pull into the driveway, honking. We ran to the window. Sure enough, it was the Johanssens. Charlotte tore down the stairs, flung open the front door, and raced into their arms.

"Mommy! Daddy! Guess what? I got to go to the Baby-sitters Club meetings. And we had a mystery and it was real scary! And I was sick, very sick, but now I'm all better, and Stacey took good care of me!" She was bubbling over with all her news. Charlotte was definitely proud of herself for having survived a whole week without her parents.

Dr. Johanssen and I smiled at each other over Charlotte's head. Charlotte went on chattering about the old house and the mysterious

noises we'd heard and the scary things we'd seen. I helped Mr. Johanssen pack Charlotte's things into the already jammed backseat. As we juggled suitcases around to make everything fit, I quietly told him not to be concerned about Charlotte's "mystery of Stoneybrook" tales.

"We thought there was a big mystery, but there wasn't really much of one in the end," I said. "And it was scary at times, but it was
fun
scary, like a movie. I think Charlotte liked having a mystery to solve. It took her mind off missing you."

He told me that he understood. Then he thanked me for taking such good care of Charlotte. I told him it had been my pleasure. It really had, too!

Charlotte came over to give me a big hug. It was time for her to go home. I reached into my pocket and handed her a tiny package. "This is for you, Char. But don't open it until you get home," I said. It was a couple of barrettes— glow-in-the-dark barrettes! Claud had gotten a pair for her last birthday, and we'd all thought they were the coolest. I knew Charlotte would love them.

I hugged her one more time and then helped her into the backseat. Mr. Johanssen started the car and backed down the driveway. I stood

and waved until they were out of sight.

When I went back into the house, it seemed awfully quiet and still. I went to the guest room. It looked neat and tidy and very empty. I missed my "little sister."

Mom and I had a quiet dinner that night. As I was finishing the dishes, the phone rang. It was Charlotte.

"I miss you, Stacey," she said. "I wish you could be here to read
Charlotte's Web
to me."

She sounded kind of sad, but I knew she must be glad to be home with her parents, too. She told me that she loved the barrettes, and that she planned to wear them to school the next day. She told me all about her grandpa and how much better he was feeling. We talked for a long time, and we didn't mention our "mystery" once. Finally, it was time to say good-bye.

"I have to go to bed now, Stacey," said Charlotte. "Good night, big sister!"

I had a lump in my throat, but I smiled and said, "Good night, little sister. Love ya!"