“Pssst, Cady. Come here. Quick!” It was my pesky neighbor, Julia.
Mom says I should be flattered by her attention and how she’s always copying me. But she can be a real pain sometimes. She’s a whole year younger than me, and really, I know Mom just wants me to be friendly because she and Mamita have been friends with Julia’s mom forever.
“I’m a little bit busy, Julia,” I called out. Understatement. I was really busy. Mamita said if I got the garage cleaned out, she’d take me to the bookstore next Saturday to the midnight release party for the new Cassidy Sundance book. From the look of things, it would take me until then just to get the job done.
“Shhhhh! Don’t yell. Just come here,” Julia hissed.
Here’s the thing about Julia: She doesn’t listen, and she never gives up. So I put down the broom and peeked around the corner of my garage. Julia was hiding in the bushes that separated our yard from hers, and seemed to be staring in the direction of her house.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“SHHHHH!” Julia turned to me with a glare. “What kind of detective are you, anyway? Don’t you know to be quiet on a stakeout?”
A stakeout? I crouched down beside Julia and looked through the bushes. All I saw was her mother beating a rug that hung from their clothesline. The evidence would suggest it was a chore she didn’t do very often, since clouds of dust rose around her.
“See?” Julia whispered. “She’s been at it since yesterday. She even mopped the utility room floor and took a feather duster to the ceiling fans.”
“So what? She’s doing a little spring cleaning,” I said.
“It’s September. And besides, you know my mother. The only things she ever cleans are her paint brushes.”
It was true. Julia’s father did the weekly cleaning, while Mrs. Baxter worked on her art. The mural she did over the summer for the youth bureau building was amazing. And I’m not just saying that because she let me help paint the grass.
“So what are your suspicions?” I asked, wishing I had my detective’s notebook with me.
Julia sat back on her heels. “That’s just it. I can’t figure out why she’s doing this. It’s not Christmas, so my grandmother can’t be coming.”
“Why don’t you ask your dad?” I said.
“He’s been acting strange, too. He cleared the clutter out of the dining room even though we only use it for holidays. And I heard him ask my mother if she’s sure about this,” Julia said.
“Sure about what?”
Julia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you get it? I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Oh. I see. You want to hire me to take the case?” I asked.
“No. I want you to help me solve it,” Julia said.
Oh man. That was just what I didn’t want. A sidekick. “You know, Julia, I usually work alone,” I said.
“So do I,” she said, even though I knew she had never solved a mystery, or even worked on one before. “But I’m willing to let you in on the action this time.”
“Well, why don’t you go ahead on your own, then,” I said, calling her bluff.
“C’mon, Cady. It will be more fun to work the case together. Besides, I’ve read all the Cassidy books, too. I know what to do.”
I hadn’t had a case in a long time, so I was tempted. “Let’s get a couple of things straight,” I said. “First, I am in charge of the investigation. What I say goes. Okay?”
“Sure. What else?” She looked up at me, all freckly and innocent.
“The second is that nobody, and I mean nobody, outside of my family calls me Cady. Got it?”
“Sure, Cady. I mean, Arcadia. That’s no problem, no problem at all.” She grinned.
Who did she think she was fooling?
“So? What do we do next?” Julia asked.
“You keep watching. I’ll get my notebook.” I sped away before she could reply.
Back quicker than a coydog, I jotted down the facts so far: J’s mom has been cleaning for two days for no obvious reason; J’s dad has been acting nervous; J’s dad straightened dining room out of season; J’s dad asked J’s mom if she was sure. Sure about what?
“They’re up to something, all right,” I said. “But we’ll need to gather more evidence to figure out what it is.”
Mrs. Baxter dumped a bucket of dirty mop water over the deck rail. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand.
“Have they asked you to do anything with your room yet?” I asked.
“No. They’ve hardly said two words to me all day,” Julia said.
“I have a hunch you’ll be getting in on the action soon,” I said. “When it happens, ask them why. And be sure to notice what they say and how they say it.”
“You think that’s all I have to do? To ask? And they’ll tell me?” Julia said.
What a naïve kid. “You’ll get an answer. But it won’t be the whole story. Now get on over there. And while you’re at it, eavesdrop as much as you can. We’ll meet back here at sundown to report in.”
Julia cocked her head to the side. “Okay. But what will you be doing?”
“The most important work of all: thinking,” I said. “And cleaning out our garage.”
“Cleaning. It’s all anybody seems to care about these days,” Julia muttered as she walked away.
***
The sky was orange and red, as if the sun were melting over the Weinsteins’ house across the street, when Julia and I met in my half-cleaned garage.
“You were right,” she said. “As soon as I walked in, my mother told me to clean my room.”
“And did you ask why?”
“Yep. And she said, ‘Because we’re having a special visitor tomorrow.’ And I asked who, and she said, ‘Nobody you know, but it’s important that the house looks its best.’ And she acted all nervous.”
“Huh,” I said. “Why the house?”
Julia smiled in that know-it-all kind of way she has. “There’s more.”
“Spit it out,” I said. I wasn’t sure what we were dealing with here, but doubted we had time to play games.
“I heard Mom and Dad talking. Mom was saying how she felt pressured. And Dad said, ‘You don’t have to do this according to her timetable. If this move doesn’t feel right to you, then cancel.’”
“Oh boy,” I said.
“What? You know what they’re talking about?”
“Ummm, maybe. Last week we got a postcard in the mail from two women who sell houses, saying now was a prime time to put ours on the market. It said to call right away. I’ll bet your parents got one, too.”
“So?”
“Julia, they’re cleaning? A woman is coming tomorrow, and it’s important the house looks perfect? Your dad even mentioned moving? All the evidence suggests they’re getting the house ready to sell.”
Julia turned so white she was almost glowing in the darkening garage. “Moving? But I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. Find out what time this woman is coming, and call me.”
***
We met in the garage again the next morning. “Are you sure this is going to work?” Julia asked.
“No. But it’s worth a try,” I said. “I’ll be watching. As soon as she arrives, I’ll come right over.”
Julia twisted her hands. “This is going to get me in big trouble with Mom and Dad.”
“It’s either that or move somewhere new. Besides, how dare they not talk to you about it? You have a right to know about big decisions like this. You’re twelve, not a baby.”
Julia straightened up and cracked her knuckles. “You’re right. Operation Stay Put is officially underway.”
“Operation Stay Put. Hey! I like that.”
“Thanks, Cad—I mean Arcadia. I thought of it last night when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Good work. Now go get ’em,” I said.
At exactly 11 o’clock a shiny silver car pulled into Julia’s driveway. The woman behind the wheel flipped open the mirror in the visor and put on lipstick. When she stepped out of the car, right away I knew something wasn’t right. She was tall and sleek with dark, cropped curls. The women on the postcard had been blonde and plump. I remembered because they reminded me of my favorite cafeteria lady— the one who sometimes gives me two desserts.
Poor Julia. There was no way to warn her.
The door opened, and Mrs. Baxter reached out to the woman like she was going to shake her hand, but the woman hugged her instead. Then they went inside.
I zipped down our driveway, leaped the hedge between our drive and theirs, and rang the bell. “Hi, Arcadia,” Julia said loudly, in a fake cheery voice. “Did you bring the name of the roofer? You know this leak has been driving us crazy. New roofs are expensive, but this will need to be taken care of.”
“Ix-nay,” I hissed, drawing a finger across my throat and hoping Julia knew Pig Latin. I peeked over her shoulder. The three adults were standing in the kitchen doorway, talking. Mrs. Baxter’s hands were shaking a little, and she was talking fast. Mr. Baxter had his arm around her shoulder and was nodding.
“Ix-nay?” Julia was practically shouting. “What a weird name. I also wanted to ask you if I could use your shower again later. Ours still isn’t working right. We might need to get the name of a good plumber, too. This house is practically falling apart.”
“Julia?” Uh-oh. The grown-ups were coming our way. “What on earth are you talking about?” Mrs. Baxter’s eyes flashed a warning.
“Oh. Just about how this house needs so much work,” Julia said, winking at me. Her back was to her mother, so there was no way she could see the approaching storm.
I had to think fast. “Nice job learning your lines, Julia.” To the grown-ups I said, “We’re going to try out for the school play next week.”
“Oh?” the visitor asked. “What play is that?”
“It’s an original work,” I said.
The visitor smiled, showing dazzling white teeth. “A world premiere. That’s exciting.”
“Girls,” Mrs. Baxter said, “this is my old friend, Aurora Daniels. She produces plays on Broadway.”
Julia’s mouth dropped open. “Aurora? THE Aurora?”
Impressive. I had no idea Julia knew so much about Broadway.
“As in Mom’s ex-girlfriend, Aurora?” Julia continued.
Ohhhhhh.
Aurora laughed a little. “I guess you’ve heard about me,” she said.
“Sure I have,” Julia said, “I know all about how you and Mom bought this house when it needed fixing up, but then you got a job offer in New York City, and you left Mom to do all the work, and then you two broke up, and then Mom met Dad and …”
Mrs. Baxter’s cheeks turned scarlet.
“That’s enough, Julia,” Mr. Baxter said. “Obviously you’ve been listening at keyholes again.”
Aurora laughed.
Mrs. Baxter shot Julia one of those “we’ll be discussing this later” looks. Then she gestured toward me. “Aurora, I’m sure you remember Candela and Karen from next door? This is their daughter, Arcadia.”
Aurora shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Arcadia. How are your moms? I lost touch with them years ago.”
“You know my moms?” I said.
“Yep. I met them just after they returned from the Peace Corps,” Aurora said.
Mrs. Baxter nodded. “I told them you were coming today. They’ll be joining us later for tea.”
This was all news to me. Maybe I should take some eavesdropping lessons from Julia.
Aurora smiled that blinding smile again. “Fantastic! It’ll be good to reconnect. So, Julia. Do you want to give me the rest of the tour? Like you said, when your mother and I bought this place twenty years ago, it was a wreck. I’ve been looking forward to seeing what she and your father have done to it.” Then she looked at me. “Or maybe you two would rather rehearse for your audition?”
“Thanks,” I said. “But I think we’ve had enough rehearsal for today.”
Julia beamed at me. “See you later, Cady.”
I decided to let that one go. Julia wasn’t such a bad sidekick after all.
