Page 13 of The Case of the Vanishing Valuables

Mrs. Hargrove hurried to calm her. “Sally, what’s going on? Who’s in your room?”

Sally pointed, eyes wide with terror. “Mortimer! He’s sitting right there by the bed! He’s waiting for me. I’m not ready to go!”

Mrs. Hargrove rushed over, but before she could step inside, Mortimer sauntered out of the room at his usual lazy pace, completely unconcerned by the chaos he left in his wake.

Sally refused to go back inside. “I’m not going in there! I’m not ready!” she insisted, clutching Mrs. Hargrove’s arm for dear life.

Mrs. Hargrove led Sally to a chair. Her face was as white as the lace doilies scattered around the room. Gina appeared beside her and wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Sally’s arm with the calm patience of someone who’d seen this kind of panic before.

“Deep breaths, Sally. It’s all right,” Gina murmured, glancing at the monitor. “Your blood pressure’s going to spike if you keep getting worked up like this. Mortimer’s just a cat, nothing more.”

Wide-eyed, Sally shook her head frantically. “Not just a cat! He was in my room! That means my time’s almost up!” she wailed in a high-pitched rush.

I watched the scene from a few feet away, trying not to roll my own eyes.Oh great, another Mortimer meltdown. I’m sure he’ll be pleased.

Gina patted Sally’s hand. “You’re fine, Sally,” Gina said, her tone still soothing. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll get you some tea.”

From across the room, Daisy popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “I’ll fetch it! Chamomile, right? Just what the doctor ordered!” she declared in a voice a little too chipper for the moment. She bustled off toward the kitchen like a woman on a mission.

Ray stood nearby, his eyes scanning the room, but I knew his mind was still on the map we’d found in the attic. He had that “I’m-about-to-put-it-all-together” look in his eyes, but it didn’t seem like the pieces were clicking just yet.

Before anyone could settle back into the daily lull, Mr. Benedict took it upon himself to liven up the situation. “I think we need a distraction!” he called out, flashing his deck of cards with a theatrical flourish. “I need a volunteer for a trick.”

Martha didn’t hesitate to jump up from her chair. “I’ll do it!” she said, clearly thrilled to be the center of attention.

Benedict gave a dramatic nod and fanned out the cards in front of her, but his hands were shaking so much the cards swayed like they were about to tumble to the floor. I rolled my eyes as Martha gingerly picked a card, trying to avoid knocking the whole deck out of his hands.

Benedict smiled, a little too proudly for someone who could barely hold a deck of cards together. “Now, don’t tell me what it is. Just memorize it.”

Martha slid the card back into the deck, grinning, while Benedict fumbled through a series of awkward shuffles. “Shuffling” was a generous term—it looked more like he was trying not to drop everything.

He closed his eyes, waving a hand over the cards like he was channeling some great power. “Now, Martha, concentrate. Focus on your card. Send me your thoughts.”

His hand trembled as he held up a card with a flourish. “Is this your card?”

Martha gasped. “Yes! The queen of hearts!”

Ray blinked, clearly impressed. “How did you know that?”

Benedict winked. “Well, I am a magician.”

The distraction had worked. Sally had calmed down, and the common room felt lighter. Mortimer basked in a puddle of sunlight by the window, clearly pleased with the chaos he’d caused earlier.

Mrs. Hargrove clapped her hands together with a cheery smile. “Now that everything’s settled, dinner is ready. Everyone, please lock your rooms and head to the dining room.”

The residents stirred and got up slowly, and the soft clicks of locks filled the hallway as they proceeded to their rooms. Daisy was already at her door, locking it like she was ahead of the game.

Still in a peppy mood, Mrs. Hargrove bustled over to Ray. “Mr. Leonard, would you care to join us for supper? We’re having meat loaf tonight.”

Ray’s face lit up like a kid hearing he was at a restaurant serving ice cream for dessert. “Meat loaf? Oh, absolutely! I’d love to stay.”

“Earl,” Mrs. Hargrove added sweetly, “you can sit with Mortimer tonight. He’ll appreciate the company.”

My tail puffed up instantly. Mortimer? Oh, great. Just what I needed—quality time with the feline grim reaper.

Ray, of course, was too busy dreaming about meat loaf to notice my distress. He gave me a quick pat on the head. “Don’t worry, buddy. You two can bond.”

Bond? With Mortimer? Sure, why not? It wasn’t like I had anything important to do—like solve a mystery.

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