Page 19 of The Case of the Vanishing Valuables

Ray squared his shoulders, though I could tell he was barely holding it together. “Yep,” he said, a little too quickly. “I’ve just got to check one thing out, and I’m pretty sure I’ll have our culprit.”

Uh-huh. Sure you do.

As Ray headed for the dining room, I followed, my paws padding along quietly beside him. He didn’t say anything, but I could hear his thoughts racing, feel the tension in his every step. Viv was in now, which meant the clock was ticking. If he didn’tfigure the solution out soon, she was going to come back and take the whole case from him.

Chapter

Sixteen

The dining room at Tranquility Terrace was quiet. We proceeded to the pantry and got to work looking for the secret door.

Ray stood in the pantry, running his hands along the wooden panels, trying to feel for anything unusual. “There’s gotta be something,” he muttered, pressing here and there with growing frustration.

I sniffed the air and scratched lightly at the baseboards, my sharp eyes scanning the walls.Secret door, secret door... how hard can it be?

Ray pressed another section of the paneling, waiting for a panel to slide open. Nothing happened. The wall stayed stubbornly in place, as solid and unyielding as ever. He stepped back, scratching the back of his neck.

“Maybe it’s hidden better than I thought,” he mumbled.

I released an exasperated meow.

Ray crouched down, squinted at the bottom of the wall, and tapped along the seams. “There’s gotta be some kind of trigger here,” he muttered.

I wandered over and sniffed the base of the wall, but nothing stood out except the faint smell of dust and age.This is gettingold, Ray. Maybe we should come back with a hammer. At least then, we’d be making progress.

Ray sighed, standing up and dusting his hands off. “Nothing. I don’t get it. Rick said there was a door. I guess we should ask him exactly where it is.”

Oh great, back to the basement. Can’t wait.

Clearly frustrated, Ray ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe he’s messing with us... Maybe there’s no secret door, and this is just some old pantry after all.”

Just as I was thinking he might be right and we should call it quits, a soft, unmistakable click came from behind us. We both froze, ears and eyes darting toward the sound. Slowly, Ray turned to face the pantry wall.

And there it was. As if by magic, the panel he’d been pressing and prodding at slid open with a soft creak.

Ray’s eyes widened. “What the?—?”

Mortimer strolled through the opening, as calm and composed as ever, his sleek gray fur catching the sliver of sunlight from the dining room. He blinked lazily at us, looking completely unbothered.

My tail puffed up in disbelief.You’ve got to be kidding me. Mortimer knew about the door?

Mortimer plopped down and started licking his paw with all the grace and smugness of a cat who knew far more than he let on. Ray, still standing near the now-open door, stared at him in shock.

“Mortimer? Where did you—how did you...?”

I marched over to Mortimer, my fur bristling with irritation.All right, Mortimer. How did you open that door?I demanded, telepathically, of course.

Mortimer looked up from his grooming session, giving me a slow blink of amusement. “Oh, that?” he said lazily, flicking his tail. “I figured it out years ago. The trick’s right here.” He raiseda paw and gestured toward a small, nearly invisible panel near the floor, just low enough for a cat to push against. “You give it a nudge, and the door opens. Not exactly complicated.”

Ray crouched down beside the open panel and inspected the spot Mortimer had pointed to. The tiny panel Mortimer had triggered was barely noticeable, especially to human eyes. Ray shook his head, muttering to himself. “So that’s it… interesting.”

Mortimer gave one last languid stretch, stood up, and padded lazily back toward the hidden passage. “Well, I’ll leave you two to your little investigation. I’ve got places to be.”

Ray watched him go then stood and brushed the dust off his hands. “Come on, Earl. We’re getting closer. Let’s see where this door leads next.”

He nudged the panel farther open, revealing a narrow, dimly lit corridor. The air inside was cool and stale, and I could hear the faint hum of the kitchen appliances on the other side of the wall. Ray’s flashlight swept across the space, casting long shadows as we both stepped inside. The door creaked shut behind us.

The passageway was narrow, barely wide enough for Ray to move through without bumping his elbows on the walls. On one side was a door to the kitchen. A few steps down on the other side was another door. When Ray opened it, we found ourselves in the main hallway, where the residents’ rooms were.

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