The Candymakers and the Great Chocolate Chase

  Philip made a guttural sound in his throat, and Anne stood up and walked toward him. When he stiffened, she stopped. “I got a job with a new symphony, and we moved across the country a few years before Karen got sick. She hid it from me until Reggie—bless him—found me and let me know. I only got to see her once after that—in the hospital. The nurses told me your father had been at her bedside from dawn to dusk. That he’d thrown half his fortune at medical procedures to save her. But… well…” She trailed off.

  They all knew how that part of the story ended. She made another movement toward Philip, and when he didn’t back away, she kept going. She put her hand on his arm. “The regret I feel about losing those last years with your mother haunts my every waking hour. I channel that pain into my music, as I suspect you do into yours. Yours has more joy in it, though, which I was very grateful to hear. Marshall passed away a few months ago, and I reached out to your brother first, to test the waters. I thought that by his age, he’d have a greater understanding of human nature and of how complicated relationships could be. I hoped he’d have compassion.”

  She lifted her hand off Philip’s arm. Philip felt the absence of it and wished she’d put it back. This surprised him.

  “But in the end it was you,” she said, her kind voice finally soothing him. “I only came to your house perhaps three times after your parents moved in, and only when your father was away on business trips. One time I got the heads-up he was headed home early. In my haste to leave, I left some items there—a birthday scarf I’d been knitting for your mother, along with some books and a violin. Your mother asked if she could keep them, since she had so little of me. How could I refuse her anything?” She gave a small smile. “It appears leaving the violin was perhaps my only good decision in all this mess.”

  Philip felt the last of his anger fade away, leaving sadness, and maybe a little hope. He glanced over to see what his friends thought of all this and was surprised to see they must have slipped out the door.

  “I really could have used a grandmother all these years,” he finally said.

  “I know. I could have used a grandson. You have thirteen hand-knit sweaters waiting for you at my house. One for every birthday.”

  “So it was Andrew who told you I would be here,” he said. “No wonder he was so eager for me to come.”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t Andrew.”

  Philip thought for a minute. “Reggie! I knew he was being unusually nice to me before I left. He called me kiddo. No one calls you kiddo unless they’re trying to hide something and feel guilty about it.”

  She shook her head again. “It wasn’t Reggie, although I am deeply indebted to him. He sent me every newspaper clipping about you and your brother’s accomplishments. You certainly are an ambitious and successful duo.”

  She didn’t comment about ambition running in the family, but she didn’t have to. They’d definitely inherited their competitive streak from their father. He tried again. “Don’t tell me you were already signed on to judge and saw my name?”

  She shook her head. “Not exactly.” She took another deep breath. “When your father found out about your violin playing, he called me. I was so surprised I literally dropped the phone. Still have a bruise on my left pinky toe. Make no mistake, your father was not a fan of ours, either. Your grandfather had been very vocal in letting others know about your father’s ruthless tactics. But a lot of time had passed. Your father wanted some guidance on what to do with you and couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. After the shock wore off enough for me to talk, I told him about this talent contest. Your father knew we would meet if you came here, but he signed you up anyway. Perhaps he’s changed.”

  Philip wouldn’t put too much faith in that.

  “Pretty nice violin you played up there,” she said.

  “It’s a Stradivarius,” he replied.

  “Yes, I know. I’m sure there’s a good story to explain why you have it.”

  “There is.”

  Anne glanced up at the wall clock. “Looks like intermission ended a while ago. Pretty sure I’m fired now.”

  Philip nodded. “Probably. And I’m probably disqualified for not returning to the dressing room.”

  She smiled. “Probably.”

  He found her face looked less like his mother’s now and more like her own. He smiled back. A real smile. “So now what?”

  “Now I hope you’ll let me be your grandmother.”

  He thought for only a few seconds. “This is some trip for me. New friends, a new cat, and a grandmother. And those are only the parts I can tell you about.”

  She grinned and linked her arm through his. “A cat? Tell me about that.”

  “Come meet her.” They headed for the classroom door.

  “You have her with you?”

  “We have a lot of stuff with us!” he said as he pushed open the door. Daisy, Logan, and Miles tumbled to the floor.

  “We weren’t listening with Daisy’s spy ear!” Miles insisted.

  A spool of what looked like silver thread with a tiny suction cup at the end rolled itself up from under the door and back into Daisy’s hand. She immediately ditched it in her pocket. Her attempt to look innocent failed miserably.

  “It’s okay,” Philip said. “Saves me the trouble of having to fill you all in.”

  The hallway had emptied out, and they could hear the sound of tap shoes scuffing up the high school’s stage. “Hmm, the tap-dancing cowgirl,” Anne said. “That means we have about ten acts left.”

  “Can we go in and watch?” Miles asked when they got to the lobby. “We could sit in the back.”

  Before Anne could answer, AJ came bounding around the corner, Philip’s violin case swinging from his hand. “There you are, Philip! I’ve been looking all over for you. I was getting really worried. You’re supposed to be in Dressing Room B, but no one has seen you since intermission!”

  Anne squinted at him. “This isn’t your brother, Andrew, is it?”

  Philip shook his head. “This is AJ. He’s our chaperone. And Daisy’s cousin. Sort of.”

  “Hey!” Miles said brightly. “Speaking of cousins, did I tell you guys I have a cousin now, too? Her name is Jade and she’s three. Supersmart and funny. Can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  “Huh?” Logan said. “Your friend Arthur’s daughter?”

  “Yes! Turns out—”

  But AJ cut him off. “You’ll have to finish what’s no doubt a fascinating story that I myself will look forward to hearing, but right now we have to get Philip back to the dressing room or he’ll be disqualified.” He finally noticed Anne’s judge’s badge. “Unless that’s already happened? I’m sorry if he caused any trouble. It’s been a very eventful last few days. Maybe you can let him back into the contest?”

  She pulled the badge over her head and tossed it in the lobby trashcan. “I’m not a judge anymore,” she said. “Just a grandma.”

  “She’s my grandma,” Philip said proudly, pointing his thumb at his chest.

  AJ looked stunned. “What?”

  “She’s also first violinist with the National Symphony Orchestra,” Philip added.

  Anne waved that off like it was no big deal. “Come, let’s go see that cat you told me about.” And off they went out the front doors, laughing like old friends as Philip told her about Aurora’s barking.

  Logan and Miles followed them, Miles excitedly filling Logan in on the DNA discovery.

  AJ shook his head. “Man, I take a nap for a few hours and half the group get new relatives! What else would I have missed if I’d slept a little longer?”

  Daisy grinned and linked her arm through his as they followed the others back to Harvey. “Things move pretty fast around here,” she said. “Ya snooze, ya lose.”

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  DAISY reached over the stable door to stroke Magpie’s nose once more before heading out of the barn. The Candymaker had invited all of Spring Haven to the factory’s first picnic
in seven years, and from what Daisy had seen so far, most of them had shown up!

  A group of kids ran past her, different-colored streamers billowing out behind them from each hand. She sat down on a nearby bench and held up her copy of Knitting for Dummies that hid her vid com. Philip had given them each a copy as a joke, but she’d already made two mittens and a bookmark. It would be nearly impossible to find the boys with all the activities going on outside, so she’d have to look for them the high-tech way. As long as they had their vid coms, she could find them, and they nearly always had them.

  When they’d returned from the trip, she’d replaced the boys’ usual little red dots and names with their Role with It avatars. Seeing them pop up made her laugh each time. Cowboy Miles blinked onto the screen first. When she zoomed in to his location, it looked like he was standing in the pond behind the factory. Like, in the pond. Odd! He’d sure come a long way from the boy who was allergic to rowboats!

  Logan’s chess piece showed up in his bedroom, but Daisy figured he must have left his vid com behind when he went to the picnic. No way he would miss even a minute of it. The Philip-headed goat popped up in a car a few blocks away. She had only seen him twice since they got back, and only for a short time. He said he was busy with “official Harmonicandy business,” but she wasn’t so sure.

  She was about to head down to the water to see what was up with Miles when her vid com buzzed. AJ’s face filled the screen. All she could see behind him was white, as if he was standing in front of a blank wall. “I finished setting up the holojection,” he said, sounding like a little kid who’d just built a LEGO castle all by himself. “It’s awesome. I created three layers of it, so even if someone were to walk through one of them, they still wouldn’t see Paradise.”

  “That’s great, AJ,” she said. “What does Frank think of it?”

  “He’s thrilled. He’s jumping around and walking back and forth through it. Evy loves it, too,” he said. “She was here to take down her mirrors. She turned a bunny into a deck of playing cards.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah, it was. Haven’t found the bunny yet, though.”

  “Why are you standing in front of an empty wall? Are all Frank’s maps gone already?”

  He reached his hand over his head and pushed it into what she’d thought was the wall. “It’s sand,” he said. “I’m lying in the sand.”

  She peered closer. “Oh. Yeah, I see now. Cool. I’m glad you’re relaxing now, but I really want to join the picnic. I bet no one will beat me at Toss the Icy Mint Blob into the Giant Hat. You know how good my aim is.”

  “Okay, one last thing. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’m feeling generous. Something about being in this place… well, you know what it’s like. It makes you hope the whole world is happy. Plus you gave me this guy.” He held up the stuffed unicorn Daisy had bought him when they got home. “Hi, Corny,” she said.

  “So here it is.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “Cinnamon.”

  Daisy held the book closer to her face. “Sorry, it’s kind of noisy here. It sounded like you said cinnamon?”

  “I did.”

  She frowned. “Is that code for something I should know?” She’d memorized the list of code words for spies when she was six. Her memory rarely failed her, but she didn’t remember any that had to do with spices.

  “Gotta go,” he said, slipping on his sunglasses. “I’ve already said too much.”

  “Wait, no, you didn’t. You didn’t say anything.”

  But he waved, and the screen went dark.

  “Grrr.”

  More kids ran by, shouting about the duck race starting soon. She really wanted to go around to where all the action was, but AJ’s call couldn’t be ignored. It was the second time in a month someone had randomly brought up cinnamon—her mom had suggested cinnamon tea when they’d spoken on the road trip, and now AJ? She thought hard but couldn’t put anything together. She knew one place that might help, though.

  She jumped up from the bench and ran inside the factory. The picnic would have to wait a few more minutes. She kept running until the heat from the Tropical Room reached out into the hall. She glanced around to make sure no one could see her, then yanked the door open. Everyone made such a big deal about how heavy the door was and how you had to press the button to loosen the seal first, but she almost never got to use her full strength anymore, and she never passed up the opportunity. Use it or lose it, as they say.

  As always in the Tropical Room, the heat wrapped itself around her like a cozy blanket. Paradise had been hot, but definitely not a wet, thick heat like this. That felt more like a tropical island. This was the jungle.

  “Avery?” she called into the cavernous room. She figured if anyone knew information about cinnamon, it would be him. She wound her way through the vanilla vines, which had grown much taller since she’d last been there, and scanned the treetops but didn’t see him or any of the other workers. Everyone must be out at the picnic.

  She headed over to her favorite cinnamon tree, the one Logan always teased her about hugging, even though she knew he liked that she did it. After all, he was a tree hugger, too.

  She could see the vertical knife marks where Avery had scraped the bark until it came off in small brown spirals. She moved some grass away with her foot, and sure enough, a few spirals sprang up. She slipped one into her pocket and leaned against the tree to think.

  She got about a minute to relax there before her vid com buzzed with a video message from Philip. He’d recorded it from the backseat of the limo. “Meet me in fifteen minutes in the storage room by Max’s lab.”

  That was just like him. He didn’t ask, he just told. She had something to give him anyway, and he probably wouldn’t want others around to see it. Right as he was hanging up, she could hear Reggie calling to him from the front seat. It sounded like he was saying the Candymaker was on the phone.

  Daisy tucked the vid com away and leaned against the tree again. As usually happened when she was near it, she felt a pull to hug it that didn’t come from any conscious choice. She faced the tree and put her arms around the narrow trunk. Since she knew she was alone, she went one step further and laid her cheek against the smooth bark. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting the sweet, spicy smell fill her up. Why had AJ said cinnamon? Why had her mother? A coincidence?

  She knew Philip would start bugging her again if she was late, but she couldn’t make herself move. She just let her mind go blank, focusing purely on the smell, trying to get some kind of clarity. She went through the steps that AJ had done when he got Logan to conjure up the memory of Frank’s address. Without thinking, she pulled the small piece of bark out of her pocket and began chewing on it.

  Suddenly her mind began to spiral. She felt as if her thoughts were going around the inside of a long tunnel, grasping for something—a memory—at the end. And then bam! She heard the sizzle of cinnamon bark on a skillet and heard the voice of a little boy giggling and her shushing him. She and this boy were hiding under a kitchen table while grown-ups talked at the stove. They were young, really young—like, she was maybe three, and he was two at the most. Out the window she could see a flat dirt yard and low, brownish-orange rock plateaus in the near distance. Where was she?

  But as soon as she’d asked it, she knew the answer. She was on a Native American reservation. Why? And who was she with? She focused hard, and her sharp memory finally kicked in. She could recognize her mother’s voice talking in hushed whispers. “He’ll stay here for another month, then,” she was saying. “Then his mother will be back for him.”

  She saw herself reach for the boy’s hand. They remained like that until the grown-ups found them. They thought they were going to get scolded, but instead the women laughed. “Looks like we’ve got a couple of future spies on our hands,” the other woman said.

  “Was there ever any doubt?” Daisy’s mother asked.

  The memory faded. Daisy’s arms flew away from
the tree. That boy had been her brother! Or at least she’d called him that? But her mother had said his mother would be back for him. She called AJ.

  “What?” he said instead of hello. “I’m busy.”

  “You’re lying in a hammock with a stuffed unicorn, drinking ice tea with a tiny umbrella in the glass!” Which, in fact, he was. “Just tell me one thing. Did I have a brother who we left behind at a Native American reservation?”

  “Cinnamon worked, then, eh? They cooked with it all the time. Whole house smelled like it.”

  “Do I need to repeat the question? Was that my brother?”

  “Yes,” AJ said. “And no. Not your real brother, by blood, but your parents raised him with you until his own parents could take him again.”

  She sucked in her breath. “Why?”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Just me and the trees.”

  “Okay. His parents were spies, too, for a different organization. They were deep undercover, very important government gig. His mother couldn’t have a baby with her. Your mother and the boy’s mother had gone to school together, and they made this arrangement between them. Even your grandmother doesn’t know about it to this day.”

  “That’s good to know,” Daisy said. “One less person to be angry at for keeping this from me.”

  “You’re old enough now to understand,” AJ said. “You can’t compromise his family’s safety by looking for him. He and your mother have stayed close—he called her Mom for those two years. She might be gearing up to tell you on your next family mission. Or maybe she’ll chicken out again. I don’t know.” He leaned back in the hammock again. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got some suntanning to do. Go eat some chocolate pizza and have fun at the picnic. You now know the secret of the mystery brother.”

  The screen went blank before she could ask the boy’s name. She—whose memory was nearly perfect—had forgotten someone that important in her life? Granted, she was only four, and so much in her life changed soon after that. She moved to the mansion, started spy training. And of course she had AJ to occupy—and annoy—her. He’d stepped into the brother role.