Page 16 of The Case of the Vanishing Valuables

That smug little furball, I thought,acting like he owns the place. Does he know more than he’s letting on? Maybe this whole “death cat” act is just a front, and he’s sneaking in for late-night jewelry heists. I mean, it would explain a lot.

But then again, Mortimer couldn’t be bothered with actual effort. Grand theft? Nah. He barely had the ambition to chase a sunbeam. Still, I gave him a long, suspicious glare before turning my attention back to Ray.

Ray was still piecing the clues together, slow as usual. “So sometime between last night and this morning, the bracelet disappeared.”

Mrs. Hargrove nodded, wringing her hands even tighter. “That’s right. Sally didn’t check her room after dinner because of Mortimer, and this morning, it was gone.”

The gears in Ray’s brain were grinding away. He had seen Sally lock her door after dinner—like everyone else had. And yet, her bracelet was still missing. Locked room. No forced entry. Classic. This scenario was shaping up to be one of those “impossible” crimes.

He crossed his arms and scanned the lobby, detective mode activated. I could tell because he had that squinty, deep-in-thought look he always used when he was trying to solve something.

First on his suspect list: Gina. She was still standing beside Mrs. Hargrove, looking calm and composed—maybe a little toocomposed. Gina was in and out of everyone’s rooms, and she had access to the keys. If anyone could slip into a locked room unnoticed, it was her.

Ray narrowed his eyes. I could practically hear his thoughts. But would she take the risks involved in stealing? Gina didn’t seem like the type to gamble her job for a few stolen trinkets. She had way too much to lose.

Next, Ray’s eyes landed on Mr. Benedict, the magician, who was sitting in the corner of the lobby, fiddling with a magic wand. Maybe he had more than tricks up his sleeve.

Ray’s gaze shifted to Mrs. Hargrove. She had the master key to the whole building. Could unlock any door without breaking a sweat. And yet, her calm demeanor in the face of all these thefts was… unsettling. Too calm. She was running the place like clockwork, but was that just a front?

I gave her a half-lidded, suspicious look. She had that hyperorganized, Type-A vibe. Would she really risk losing control by pulling off petty thefts? Probably not. But who knew? Maybe the pressure of running Tranquility Terrace was getting to her.

Ray finally broke the silence. “Sally’s bracelet—did anyone see anything unusual last night? After dinner?”

There were shrugs and mumbles all around.

Mr. Saunders piped up from his spot near the window, “We were all at dinner with you, Ray. Then most of us watched a show and went straight to bed after that.”

Ray nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. They had all been at dinner. All of them. But someone must’ve slipped away long enough to make their move.

His eyes flicked back to Gina. She had gone to put Sally’s meds in her room, hadn’t she?Ray, focus!Could she have swiped the bracelet then?

I telepathed, narrowing my eyes at him.Remember the map? We came to talk to Rick about the checked-off rooms. And don’t forget… Rick has a master key.

Ray blinked as if waking up from a mental fog. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head, slowly grinding into place.That’s right, Ray. The map. Get back on track!

His expression changed, his eyes sharpening as realization set in. “Where’s Rick?”

Mrs. Hargrove blinked in surprise. “Rick? Oh, he’s down in the basement, working on the boiler this morning. Why?”

Ray didn’t answer right away. He glanced down at me, and I was already on my feet, tail flicking. I’d been waiting for this realization. About time too.

Then he gave a quick nod. “I need to talk to him.”

Mrs. Hargrove looked confused. “Rick? Do you think he?—?”

Ray held up a hand. “I’m not sure yet. But I need to talk to him. Mind if I head down to the basement?”

Mrs. Hargrove hesitated but then nodded. “Of course. It’s just through that door and down the stairs.”

Ray thanked her and made for the door, with me trotting alongside him.

He opened the door, and we headed down the narrow staircase. The air grew cooler as we descended, the dim light from the bulbs overhead casting long shadows on the cement walls.

Chapter

Fourteen

The basement of Tranquility Terrace was about as inviting as I’d expected: dark, dank, and reeking of mildew and oil. The cold, heavy air pressed down on us like a wet blanket. Overhead, a single bare bulb flickered, casting long, dancing shadows along the cracked cement walls. The hum of the boiler filled the air, and the occasional drip of water resounded somewhere deeper in the building.

---