his list. âA bottle of blood?â
âMurphy already found that,â David said. âHe wasprowling around in the front hall and tripped over a loose floorboard. The bottle was right under it.â
âCatch you later,â Terry said. David was a good guy, he realized. Too bad the other jocks werenât more like him. The thought of the jocks made him think of Alex, which made him think of Niki, and he wondered where she was in this big spooky house. Maybe heâd run into her.
N iki looked at the list halfheartedly. Even though this was the greatest party sheâd ever been to, she wasnât that interested in fun and games.
The party still seemed like a mystery to her. Nothing added up. The treasure hunt, she decided, was the perfect chance to explore the mansion freely.
She replayed in her mind the conversation she had lip-read when Justine was in the phone booth, and had now decided that it didnât have anything to do with the party.
After all, Justine seemed only to care about her guests having a good time. And despite her weird uncle, she was really sweet.
But there was still something intriguing about her, and Niki was determined to find out what it was. She would have felt a little guilty about searching the house, but the treasure hunt gave her the perfect excuse. It wasnât even snooping, not really . . . .
She was working her way through the rooms on the top floor. So far none of them contained anything of interest to her.
She entered a large bedroom at the back of the house and switched on the light. She jumped back, herheart pounding, as a huge glowing head dropped in front of her. After a second she realized it was just another one of Justineâs surprises.
She switched the light off again, and the head was pulled back up to the ceiling on an automatic reel. After a little searching she found a lamp and clicked it on, then smiled in satisfaction.
From the perfume bottles and cosmetics on the antique vanity and the beautiful ruffled pink satin bedspread, she realized she must be in Justineâs room.
You can tell a lot about a person by examining her bedroom, Niki thought. For example, take her own bedroom. Her sewing stuff and the fashion cutouts on the bulletin board showed her interest in fashion design. Her collection of stuffed dogs showed that she loved animals and hoped someday to raise them. And her rock posters showed just the sort of music she preferred.
But, she realized, standing in the middle of Justineâs room, this room didnât say much about Justine at all. There were no stuffed animals, no pictures of movie actors or rock stars, no hint of a hobby, nothing personal at all, except for a picture of a smiling man and woman from the fifties in an ornate frame on the vanity.
Justineâs schoolbooks were stacked on top of the radiator, but there was nothing in the room that could be used as a desk.
Strange, Niki thought. Justine must not take school very seriously. But then, she reminded herself, after all the places sheâs lived, Shadyside must seem like very small potatoes.
She opened each of the drawers in a chest, but therewasnât much in them besides a few folded pairs of underpants and some sweaters.
Her curiosity piqued even moreâby what she hadnât foundâNiki opened the closet door and was shocked to find it almost empty, except for the school clothes sheâd seen Justine in.
Where were her jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers? What did she wear after school? Didnât she have any party dresses?
She took her flashlight, shone it around the closet, then saw a faint, square-shaped crack at the back. She remembered the trapdoor in the fireplace and wondered if this was another one.
Excited, she stepped to the back of the closet and began to press around the crack with her fingertips. Nothing happened.
Frowning, Niki stared at the door, then began to feel around the empty closet shelves. Her finger
âMurphy already found that,â David said. âHe wasprowling around in the front hall and tripped over a loose floorboard. The bottle was right under it.â
âCatch you later,â Terry said. David was a good guy, he realized. Too bad the other jocks werenât more like him. The thought of the jocks made him think of Alex, which made him think of Niki, and he wondered where she was in this big spooky house. Maybe heâd run into her.
N iki looked at the list halfheartedly. Even though this was the greatest party sheâd ever been to, she wasnât that interested in fun and games.
The party still seemed like a mystery to her. Nothing added up. The treasure hunt, she decided, was the perfect chance to explore the mansion freely.
She replayed in her mind the conversation she had lip-read when Justine was in the phone booth, and had now decided that it didnât have anything to do with the party.
After all, Justine seemed only to care about her guests having a good time. And despite her weird uncle, she was really sweet.
But there was still something intriguing about her, and Niki was determined to find out what it was. She would have felt a little guilty about searching the house, but the treasure hunt gave her the perfect excuse. It wasnât even snooping, not really . . . .
She was working her way through the rooms on the top floor. So far none of them contained anything of interest to her.
She entered a large bedroom at the back of the house and switched on the light. She jumped back, herheart pounding, as a huge glowing head dropped in front of her. After a second she realized it was just another one of Justineâs surprises.
She switched the light off again, and the head was pulled back up to the ceiling on an automatic reel. After a little searching she found a lamp and clicked it on, then smiled in satisfaction.
From the perfume bottles and cosmetics on the antique vanity and the beautiful ruffled pink satin bedspread, she realized she must be in Justineâs room.
You can tell a lot about a person by examining her bedroom, Niki thought. For example, take her own bedroom. Her sewing stuff and the fashion cutouts on the bulletin board showed her interest in fashion design. Her collection of stuffed dogs showed that she loved animals and hoped someday to raise them. And her rock posters showed just the sort of music she preferred.
But, she realized, standing in the middle of Justineâs room, this room didnât say much about Justine at all. There were no stuffed animals, no pictures of movie actors or rock stars, no hint of a hobby, nothing personal at all, except for a picture of a smiling man and woman from the fifties in an ornate frame on the vanity.
Justineâs schoolbooks were stacked on top of the radiator, but there was nothing in the room that could be used as a desk.
Strange, Niki thought. Justine must not take school very seriously. But then, she reminded herself, after all the places sheâs lived, Shadyside must seem like very small potatoes.
She opened each of the drawers in a chest, but therewasnât much in them besides a few folded pairs of underpants and some sweaters.
Her curiosity piqued even moreâby what she hadnât foundâNiki opened the closet door and was shocked to find it almost empty, except for the school clothes sheâd seen Justine in.
Where were her jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers? What did she wear after school? Didnât she have any party dresses?
She took her flashlight, shone it around the closet, then saw a faint, square-shaped crack at the back. She remembered the trapdoor in the fireplace and wondered if this was another one.
Excited, she stepped to the back of the closet and began to press around the crack with her fingertips. Nothing happened.
Frowning, Niki stared at the door, then began to feel around the empty closet shelves. Her finger
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