The Great Shelby Holmes and the Haunted Hound Page 11

  Everybody looked super guilty right now.

  Stapleton rubbed his hands together. “So what’s your theory?”

  Yeah, like we were going to tell him. Why was he so curious? Something was up with this guy.

  Shelby yawned. “I am not at liberty to discuss until all the facts have presented themselves. Yet with each passing minute, we make new and fascinating discoveries.”

  Shelby scanned him at that moment. Oh, he was going to be in for it.

  Stapleton laughed. “You’re even more intriguing in person.” He then turned to me and said, “Not that you don’t properly capture her spirit in your blog, Watson!”

  “Thanks!” I replied with a proud smile, before I had to remind myself that he might be the culprit.

  I would not be thrown off by compliments about my writing (even though it was nice to know I was gaining readers).

  “Mr. Stapleton, I’m so glad to see you,” Mr. Barrymore exclaimed as he came down the stairs. “As you can tell, we have a bit of a situation going on.”

  Shelby leaned against the wall as Barrymore described recent events.

  “Oh no,” Mr. Stapleton said. “That’s not good.”

  “Thomas!” Ms. Lyons came down the stairs. She smoothed out her hair as she approached him. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been awful. Be happy you were away.”

  “Yes, how was London?” Shelby asked.

  Mr. Stapleton did a double take at Shelby before breaking out into laughter. “You really are something else.”

  “And did your meeting with Barclays go well?”

  “Extraordinary!” he exclaimed with a laugh.

  Because this was funny? I mean, yeah, Shelby’s ability to know all this stuff was, ah, extraordinary, but his neighbors were freaking out.

  “Thomas.” Ms. Lyons put her hand to her forehead. “We’ve had enough of it. We cannot spend another night here, especially Halloween. Could you even imagine?”

  “Well, then, I’ll pack another bag and we’ll go somewhere safe,” Mr. Stapleton said with a nod.

  Ms. Lyons’s face lit up as Stapleton put his arm around her.

  Hmm, she certainly didn’t seem upset that she had to abandon her home now.

  Maybe Ms. Lyons and her daughter have more in common about their feelings for Baskerville Estates than I originally thought.

  Shelby cleared her throat, and everybody looked at her. “Watson and I will prove once and for all that there is no such thing as ghosts and that this building is safe.”

  We would? But how?

  You know what, I didn’t really want to know because no way would this be good.

  Even if it wasn’t ghosts, we were dealing with someone who had gone to great lengths to terrify people.

  Shelby crossed her arms. “It was an idea that began to form thanks to something Watson showed me on a so-called television program.”

  Oh! That did help! Maybe we were going to use a cool gadget?

  “Yes,” Shelby continued. “Watson and I will be spending tomorrow night in this building. Alone.”

  No.

  Seriously? Out of everything we saw that was what Shelby got out of it?

  This is what I get for having Shelby Holmes watch TV.

  Yeah, so not happening.

  Just nope. Nope. Nope.

  Then it hit me, what tomorrow night was. “You can’t mean . . .”

  “Yes, Watson, on Halloween.”

  CHAPTER

  23

  Even though our skills were in no way equal, Shelby and I were considered partners.

  So it would’ve been nice if Shelby consulted me before she declared that we would be spending the night in a haunted apartment building. On Halloween.

  But why would she start filling me in now?

  My mind told me it wasn’t haunted. I’d listened to all of Shelby’s explanations. But there was a part of me that was a little unsettled by the prospect. We still couldn’t account for HOW the noises were coming from an abandoned apartment upstairs or WHO was doing this or WHY. You know, the three most important questions to answer when you’re a detective. At this point, I’d just settle for WHO. So everybody could move on, not out.

  As much as I didn’t want to go over to Bryant’s tomorrow night, I knew Shelby wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.

  There was a text from Shelby on my phone, Come upstairs and bring your laptop.

  I closed the math book on my desk and went into the living room, where Mom was typing into her phone. That secretive smile on her face again.

  You know what, let me first tackle the mystery of Bryant’s apartment before I even deal with what was going on with Mom.

  “Mom, I need to go upstairs to Shelby’s. Can I borrow the laptop? I need to ask her a question about a school assignment.”

  “Go right ahead,” Mom replied without really looking up from the phone.

  I climbed the stairs to 221B. Shelby’s mom answered the door. “Well, hello, John! So great to see you.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Holmes, Shelby wanted me to stop by.”

  “Hello, John!” Mr. Holmes echoed as he came up to give me a pat on the back. “We are both incredibly grateful for all that you’ve done for Shelby!”

  Um, okay.

  They both beamed as they looked at me with their arms around each other.

  “Ah, you’re welcome,” I replied, even though I have no idea what they thought I did. Although unlike their daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were generous with compliments and basic human decency.

  “Shelby’s upstairs, no doubt plotting something.” They both laughed while I went up to Shelby’s bedroom.

  “Come on in, Watson,” Shelby called out before I could even knock on the door. I opened it up to find . . . ​Shelby not there. I looked around her messy bedroom. It wasn’t like there were many places for her to be.

  “Down here,” she called.

  I got on my knees and saw Shelby lying under her bed.

  “Oh, so are you and Michael playing the real version of hide-and-seek?”

  “Absolutely not,” she replied. She closed her eyes. “A concentrated atmosphere leads to concentrated thought.”

  Ooookaaaay.

  “I take it you’re trying to figure out something about this case.”

  “Yes! There’s nothing more stimulating than a case when everything goes against you.”

  She sounded excited, while I was tired. And wanted to get to the bottom of it.

  “Do you think Ms. Lyons would have had a key to the apartment with the noise?” I asked. We already knew she had keys to Stapleton’s, Mortimer’s, and the Bryants’. Why wouldn’t she have ones belonging to the person who had lived in that unit?

  “The probability is high. Additionally, there is no law in New York State requiring a landlord to change the locks after a tenant leaves,” Shelby stated, her voice a bit muffled from being under the bed.

  “So whoever lived in my mom’s and my place could just walk in whenever?”

  “Very unlikely, Watson. The former tenant of 221A was a serial killer, who is currently on the loose. Why would he go back to his former residence?”

  “WHAT?” I screamed as my heart plummeted.

  Shelby snickered as she scooted out from under the bed. “Relax, I am only joking.”

  “WHAT?” I repeated. It wasn’t like my nerves weren’t already shot. I mean, COME. ON.

  Shelby tilted her head at me. “Isn’t humor a desirable trait people look for in a friend?”

  Seriously? Nothing was ever easy with her.

  “But the case is not why I called you up here.”

  Oh, so the purpose of this visit wasn’t a heart attack? Good to know. I mean . . .

  “You,” she stated.

  “Me?”

  Great. So I was up here because she was going to criticize me or pick apart something I did or didn’t do.

  True, I was never going to learn unless she told me if I missed a clue, but still. She was
the least patient teacher ever.

  Shelby sat on the edge of her bed. “I need your focus to be a hundred percent on every element we come across tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll be focused,” I replied. I couldn’t imagine not being on edge to every sound or movement at Bryant’s place.

  “I can’t have you distracted about your mother’s new beau.”

  Oh no.

  No.

  My suspicions were correct.

  “I take by the way your face fell right now that you have not received official confirmation from your mother.”

  “No.”

  Shelby perked up. “So you only know this by deduction?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well done, Watson! Tell me how you came to your conclusion.”

  I told her about the extra wine glass and coaster, how I knew she was lying, and about her facial expressions when she was texting. Yeah, it wasn’t a lot, but I got it right.

  “Excellent job!” Shelby replied.

  Okay, that felt good, but still. Mom had a boyfriend.

  “Wait, how do you know?”

  “Your mother, while a very attractive woman, has been paying more attention to her appearance: hair is kept, slightly more makeup, more accessories and fitted clothing. She also smiles like she has a secret.”

  Yeah, a very, very big secret.

  “It’s time you had some concrete evidence so you can stop wondering.” She held out her hand.

  “The laptop?” I gave it to her.

  Shelby walked over to her desk. She opened the laptop and began typing immediately. “We can access your mom’s text messages.”

  “Wait!” I called out. Wasn’t this crossing some sort of line? Invasion of privacy? Snooping? “Shelby, I don’t think this is right.”

  Shelby lifted her eyebrows at me. “Do you want to know the truth or not?”

  Ugh. She had me there.

  Okay, so while I knew it was wrong, Mom wasn’t being honest. So what else was I supposed to do?

  Yeah, that’s how I was going to tell myself that spying on Mom was justified.

  Don’t judge.

  I sat down next to Shelby. “Okay, but only tell me the basics.” I didn’t want to read any mushy texts between my mom and some dude.

  Yuck.

  Man, I needed a vacation. Between getting no sleep a week ago because of the figure skating cipher and this case and, you know, finding out Mom was dating.

  Good thing I was heading to Kentucky in a few weeks for Thanksgiving to see Dad.

  Uh-oh. Dad.

  So now that I had confirmation, was I supposed to tell him?

  No way. I had enough to deal with.

  Honestly, that was what hurt the most. Knowing my parents were moving on, while I only wanted things to stay the same. I knew that was impossible with us living so far away, but a boy could dream.

  “Okay,” Shelby said as she scrolled through messages. “His name is Andre. He’s also a doctor. Very intelligent. Writes in complete sentences. No emojis, thank goodness. Same for your mother. It’s refreshing when adults behave like adults.”

  Even though Shelby’s back was to me, I could hear the eye roll in her voice.

  “He knows about you.”

  “He does?”

  “Of course, Watson. Your mother has great affection for you. He asks about you, but your mother is not ready for you to meet yet, which means things aren’t that serious. If it was, she’d tell you. She wants to protect you.”

  “I’m not ready to meet him,” I blurted out.

  Shelby turned around. “Then if this comes up, you need to state that. Many obstacles can be eliminated if people decide to be truthful with each other.”

  Said the girl who just hacked into my mom’s text messages.

  And didn’t talk to me before signing us up to spend Halloween night at a haunted apartment building.

  And always waited until the last minute to fill me in when she figured something out.

  I should probably take a page from Shelby and be open with her.

  “Hey, Shelby, maybe you could be more truthful to me about our cases?”

  She appeared genuinely confused. “Whatever do you mean? I’ve never once lied to you about a case.”

  “Yeah, but you also don’t fill me in on things.”

  She scoffed. “I tell you information when you need to know it.” She then gave me a curt nod to signal that this conversation was over.

  That went as well as I thought it would.

  Then Shelby gave me an encouraging smile. “So what are you going to do about your mother?”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t want to talk to Mom about it because then it would be real. But it was real.

  “Well, you do need to get permission to spend tomorrow night at Bryant’s.”

  That was something else I’d been avoiding. She knew about the case, so I couldn’t imagine she’d be thrilled by this prospect. Part of me wanted Shelby to tell me I couldn’t do it so I could bail, but I didn’t want to leave her alone.

  For better or worse, I would come face-to-face with something tomorrow night. Funny, coming face-to-face with a beast wasn’t as scary anymore now that I knew Andre wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

  I had to get Mom to let me spend another school night at Bryant’s. I reminded myself that I was doing this for him. Mom would know how important that was for me.

  “What did you tell your parents about tomorrow night?” I asked. Shelby had it worse. She was going to have to get her parents to agree to let her spend the night at a boy’s, even though Bryant wouldn’t be there.

  Shelby shook her head. “Once I used the word friend in reference to someone besides you, my parents were more than happy to grant my request. They were quite pleased that you apparently seem to be rubbing off on me.”

  Ah, right. Now their gratitude made sense. They were under the impression that Shelby was making more friends because of me.

  Technically not true, but not the worst thing that happened this evening at 221 Baker Street (again: the spying of my mom’s texts).

  “Although they had a condition.” Shelby scrunched her face.

  “What was it?”

  “They want to meet Bryant and his mom. They insisted upon personally dropping me off after dinner.”

  “You talked to Bryant?” I asked.

  “No.” Shelby grimaced. “I need you to see if he and his mother would be up for this silly charade.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” I figured that would be easy enough.

  “You can walk over with us if you’d like.”

  “Sounds good.” No way was I going to miss a sure-to-be-super-awkward encounter.

  Shelby trying to be someone’s friend was a stretch for her acting skills. Her and Bryant pretending to be buds, well, that was going to be something else. I was definitely going to have to run interference.

  “One more thing,” Shelby said as I started heading out the door. “I need to take a closer look at the New York Times article.”

  “They’re all on there,” I stated, and pointed to the red flash drive that was on her desk.

  “No, I need the fake one. I never gave it a proper look.”

  “Okay.” I pulled the wrinkled piece of paper from my backpack. She had looked at it enough to know that some of the words weren’t used back when the article was allegedly written. What else was there?

  I was getting ready to leave, but then something hit me. In the chaos and confusion in the apartment building it had slipped my mind.

  “Hey, Shelby, how did you know that Stapleton was just in London? And for a business meeting?”

  “It was quite obvious,” she stated flatly.

  And there we go. She was disappointed in me. What did I miss in the hallway? I mean, I figured out the guy had a manicure. That should’ve counted for something.

  “His luggage tag said LHR, which is the airport code for London’s Heathrow airport. As far as his meeting, s
ince we hadn’t yet had a chance to make his acquaintance, I did some research online. Like Kaitlin, he posts quite a lot on social media, including about his, and I quote, ‘big time meeting.’ All this oversharing online is very helpful when working a case.”

  “So he hadn’t even been in the country and couldn’t be involved.”

  “Technically. While Stapleton wasn’t physically here, he could be the one pulling the strings. I’m currently working it all out and should have every piece in place shortly. Any­thing else?”

  I shook my head. “See you tomorrow,” I said as I headed for her bedroom door.

  “Yes, and Watson?”

  I turned around. “Yeah.”

  “Details. It’s all in the details.”

  CHAPTER

  24

  “How’s Shelby?” Mom asked when I arrived back at our apartment.

  “She’s Shelby,” I replied. We both laughed for a beat.

  I also had a hard time looking at Mom in the eyes after we, well, Shelby hacked into her texts.

  Huh, this must’ve been what she felt like when I kept the cases from her.

  “What is it, John?” Mom asked, concern clearly on her face.

  Guess you didn’t need to be a detective to figure out I was a bit off. I’d vowed to be open and honest with her so I guess it was now or never.

  “You know how things have been a little surreal over at Bryant’s?”

  Mom nodded.

  “Well, it’s gotten worse. I feel really bad for him and his mom. We’ve gotten to know their neighbors, too. We’re close to figuring this out, at least according to Shelby. And she sort of bragged that she and I could spend Halloween there and well . . .”

  I decided to let Mom fill in the blanks.

  She grimaced. “I thought you said you were going up to Shelby’s to discuss homework.”

  It just slipped out. “And I thought you said you were alone the other night. So who’s really the one lying?”

  Oops.

  Mom’s eyes got wide. “John Howard Watson!”

  Yikes. The whole name was never a good sign.

  But she had lied to me.

  “I don’t think you understand how much I’ve been dealing with,” I said with a stomp of my foot for emphasis.

  Mom sat down on the couch. “So why don’t you explain it to me?”