Look Into My Eyes

  “I know, Girl Scouts’ honor and all that.”

  “Not even under torture,” Ruby insisted. “Not even under torture in your sleep.”

  “I’ll gag myself, how about that?” Clancy smiled.

  Ruby wasn’t smiling. “This isn’t some little secret, Clancy — this is big.”

  “You know me, Ruby. I never blab — never,” said Clancy earnestly.

  It was true, Clancy never blabbed — you could dangle him over a crocodile pit and he wouldn’t say a thing.

  Ruby looked at her friend. It was her sideways look, a look she gave when she was measuring up a situation. Clancy Crew knew that look well and held her gaze.

  “OK,” she said. “This is the story.”

  It took a lot of explaining, and Clancy spent a lot of time saying, “You have to be kidding” and “This is unbelievable — a real spy agency underneath Twinford City?”

  “It’s all true,” she said. “Every word.”

  “So what are we going to do now?”

  “What I am going to do is to get myself over to Maverick Street before the Silent G gets on my tail.” She picked up her bike. “I need to keep thinking but I’ll be in touch, Clance, I promise — just keep it zipped, OK?”

  CLANCY WAS SURPRISED TO SEE RUBY standing on the curb by the side of his house; it was Wednesday morning, pretty early, and she didn’t usually bike to school with him.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  “Thought you might be interested in taking a little trip with me,” said Ruby.

  “Sure I would but I’ve got school — remember school? It’s that big building where all the kids hang out.”

  “Don’t stress it — I made a call. You’re off sick — that tooth of yours is a real pain in the cheek — which, by the way, still looks puffy.”

  “You called the school and told them I was sick?” Clancy was flapping his arms.

  “Well, your mom sorta called. I do a pretty good impersonation of her — Mrs. Bexenheath certainly thought it was good.”

  It took about seven minutes but Ruby managed to convince Clancy that no one would suspect a thing if he skipped school — just this once.

  “So where are we going?” he asked nervously.

  “Just taking a little trip to Tony’s Hair Salon, see if we can’t get some more information.”

  “But aren’t you gonna be missed — at Spectrum, I mean?”

  “I took care of that,” said Ruby. “I phoned Blacker and told him I needed to figure some things out. I explained I do it better in my own space.”

  They pulled up at Tony’s — the fancy hair salon just off Twinford Square.

  “So what are we doing here?” asked Clancy.

  “Getting information. Just follow me, don’t speak — just you know, keep it zipped.”

  “Sir, yes sir,” muttered Clancy.

  “Hey, Ruby!” said Marcia. “What are you doing in here? You retired from school or what?” Marcia did Sabina’s hair, and Ruby had been coming here since she could remember.

  “They’ve run out of things to teach me so they let me off for the day.”

  Marcia winked. “Oh, I get it — don’t worry, honey, I’m no snitch.” She looked at Clancy. “What happened to you, kid? Get in a fight with a dentist?”

  Clancy rolled his eyes.

  “So,” said Marcia. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if you knew a person named Carla Lopez?”

  “I know her, ’course I do — she’s a regular. Why you asking?”

  “The last time she was in, did you notice anything odd about her?”

  “Odd? Like how?”

  “Was she out of sorts, distracted?” suggested Ruby.

  “Well, she did walk out of the salon with a couple of heated rollers in her hair, so I guess you might say she was distracted, but it’s Sandy you might wanna talk to — she did Carla’s manicure.” She pointed over to a tall young woman who was busy filing the nails of a dumpy lady with slightly blue hair. “Hey, Sandy, the kid wants to talk to you!”

  Ruby walked over to the nail bar and sat down on the stool next to Sandy. Sandy kept on filing.

  “I was wondering, do you happen to remember doing the nails of a friend of mine a few weeks ago — Carla Lopez, long black hair, pretty, mid thirties?”

  “Yeah, I do!” replied Sandy, filing more furiously. “She owes me a tip.”

  The lady with blue hair coughed — it wasn’t a real cough, more of a “do you mind?” sort of cough.

  Ruby ignored her.

  “What, she left without paying?”

  “I do her nails, get them all filed and regular and then I start applying the red polish and there I am telling her about my cousin’s fancy wedding at some fancy hotel and she suddenly jumps out of her seat and asks to see a phone directory. I say, ‘But, lady, I haven’t finished painting your nails.’ I wasn’t even done with the left hand but she doesn’t seem to care — she goes over to the phone booth, flicks through the phone book, and then runs out the door. I thought, that’s one serious nut we got there.”

  “Thanks, you have been super helpful, Sandy,” said Ruby, who was already moving toward the phone booth.

  “When you see her, tell her she still owes me that tip,” called Sandy.

  Ruby flipped open the directory that was attached to the wall by a string, and hurriedly turned the pages.

  “What are you looking for?” said Clancy.

  “Something beginning with F,” she replied.

  Ruby scanned down: Fountain Farm, Fountain Fresh Eggs, Fountain Garages, Fountain Gardens, Fountain Hotel.

  Bingo!

  And as if to confirm that she was exactly on the right track, there was a little smudge of red nail polish next to the name.

  Ruby took her yellow notebook from her bag and scrawled the address and phone number on the inside cover.

  “Could you let me in on whatever it is you are doing?” said Clancy.

  “We gotta go somewhere — it’s out of town.”

  “Where out of town?” said Clancy.

  “Everly,” replied Ruby.

  “Everly? But that’s miles away — how are we gonna get there?”

  “Don’t suppose that chauffeur of yours is free?”

  “Oh no, Rube you better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

  Two minutes later Clancy found himself listening to Ruby doing a pretty good impersonation of his dad’s secretary.

  “Hello, Bill? Yes, I need you to drive Mr. Crew’s son Clancy out to Everly . . . yes, Everly . . . it doesn’t matter why, he has to pick something up for his father . . . it’s a surprise, so don’t mention anything about this. That clear? Good. All right, pick him up from Twinford Square right away. Thanks so much. Oh, and Bill, I mean it, no blabbing.”

  Ruby replaced the receiver and smiled at Clancy.

  “If my dad finds out, I am going to be dead meat, Rube. I mean it, dead as a dingo.”

  “Dodo,” replied Ruby.

  “Now you’re calling me a dodo?”

  “No, it’s dead as a dodo, not dead as a dingo.”

  Clancy sighed. “Well whatever I am as dead as, it doesn’t change the fact that I will be dead, so who cares if it’s a dog or a bird!”

  Seven minutes later a large black limousine cruised by and they got in.

  “This beats the bus,” said Ruby, nudging Clancy with her elbow. Clancy rolled his eyes. “I just might throw up.”

  “I don’t think your dad would like that,” said Ruby.

  “Could you at least quit clicking — it’s getting on my nerves, and my nerves are a little frayed right now,” said Clancy in an exaggerated whisper.

  Ruby hadn’t really been aware that she was clicking, she had been too busy thinking.

  “What is it, anyway? That thing you are clicking?”

  She pulled LB’s key ring out of her pocket. “Just some old key ring I found.”

  “Looks kinda dum
b,” said Clancy. “Cool in a way but sorta dorky — where’d ya get it?”

  “Just sorta picked it up,” said Ruby, stuffing it back into her pocket.

  FORTY MINUTES LATER THE CAR PULLED UP in front of the Fountain Hotel, an attractive old building with a courtyard and a fountain that was struggling to bubble water out of a trumpet held by a statue of a fat baby.

  “Now what?” said Clancy.

  “Follow me and remember no talking, no —”

  “Yeah, yeah — keep it zipped,” grumbled Clancy.

  Bill took out his newspaper and started to read the sports pages.

  Clancy and Ruby walked across the courtyard and in through the main door. A young couple was at the desk, checking in. They were taking a long time about it, and Ruby was beginning to lose her nerve.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” The concierge was looking at them sternly.

  “Uh, yes, I was wanting to know about a person who may or may not have visited your establishment a few weeks ago — a lady, medium height, long black hair, pretty?”

  The man behind the desk adopted a very tired look. “If this is some kind of childish time-wasting prank then I am not amused.”

  “No, it isn’t,” said Ruby, giving the man her Ruby Redfort look of sincerity. “I just really need to know if you saw this lady. She’s my aunt you see, and she mentioned that she was lucky enough to visit a beautiful hotel in Everly and we want to surprise her by booking her a room . . . as a, a surprise! And we think it must be this one because it is of course, you know, completely divine.”

  The concierge was perking up. “Oh I see, well I’m sure it must have been the Fountain — when did you say she was in town?”

  “March 25th around six p.m.,” replied Ruby.

  “I was away that week — let me call Felix.”

  A skinny young man came out from the back room and the concierge explained what Ruby needed to know.

  “I’m not sure,” pondered Felix. “She sounds like a lot of our customers. We did have one lady I do remember — I thought it was odd ’cause she had this fancy salon type hairdo but she still had a couple of rollers in. Oh, yeah! And she only had nail polish on her left hand.”

  “That’s her!” said Ruby.

  “Yeah, she was behaving really weird, kinda ducking behind the furniture and holding her menu in front of her face — weird! Extremely weird!” he said again just for emphasis.

  “What — like she was spying on someone?” asked Ruby.

  “Yeah, like she thought she was in some kinda secret-agent movie or something. She wasn’t the only fruitcake in that day either — there was an old-fashioned lady sitting in the dining room with a big hat and a veil. She was the one the other fruit loop . . . I mean, your aunt . . . was spying on. All this old gal did was write something down on a pad, tear it off, and leave. Didn’t even drink her iced tea, and when she was gone, your aunt went over and took the pad — and there was nothing written on it! I tell you we get them all in here.”

  The concierge coughed but Felix had more to say on the subject of fruit loops. “Well, I guess your aunt wasn’t too good at the whole spying game because this other fellow comes by as if to sit down at the table; he looks pretty mad about her taking the notepad.”

  “Now why would she pick up a blank piece of paper?” said Ruby.

  “Who only knows what that loony tune was up to.”

  The concierge gave Felix a swift dig in the ribs and said, “That will be all, thank you, Felix.”

  Ruby and Clancy thanked the concierge, promised to be in touch, and returned to the car.

  “Now are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Clancy said.

  “Not now,” said Ruby through gritted teeth. “Not when people might overhear.” She motioned to the chauffeur with her eyes — though it was clear he wasn’t a bit interested.

  “Just tell me in code,” hissed Clancy.

  “Look, why don’t you come over tomorrow night — you can watch my dad’s slide show, since I figure you owe me one.”

  “How do I owe you? You’re the one who got my dad’s chauffeur driving us all over town,” whispered Clancy.

  “Yeah, and if you hadn’t been such a sneak I never woulda asked you in the first place so it really is your own fault.”

  The two of them continued to whisper insults to each other all the way back to Twinford. When they reached Cedarwood Drive, Ruby thanked Bill and got out of the car. “So Clance, see you tomorrow night, six p.m. — I have to warn you it’s gonna be a total yawn.”

  When Ruby got in, she could hear her mother’s voice. She was talking on the phone. Out of habit Ruby tried to tune in to what her mother was saying. Her mother’s conversations were rarely interesting but Ruby was a slave to curiosity. Her mom’s side of the conversation went something like this:

  “The funniest thing happened to me today, Barbara . . . uh, funny strange . . . not so funny ha-ha . . . So I was walking through Clavel Square . . . no, Clavel Square is the one with the statue, you are thinking of Clara Square, that’s the one with the roses . . . yes, that’s right, the one where you slipped on a hamburger . . . I know, it is terrible the way people just drop their garbage anywhere they feel like it. You are so right, it could have been worse, luckily it was just a trip to the emergency room.”

  Ruby listened as her mother broke into peals of laughter.

  “You’re not kidding . . . you’re not kidding! Oh, I know, that doctor was very cute . . . I can’t say I would have blamed you . . . who wouldn’t!”

  More laughter. Barbara always made Ruby’s mom laugh like this, and it was hard to know if she would ever get to the end of this story because she and Barbara had a habit of going off the subject.

  “Oh yes, what was I saying? The funniest thing happened to me . . . yes, I was just walking across Clavel Square when this man sort of grabbed me by the arm . . . yes, it was a grab, no doubt about it . . . it did sort of hurt, yes . . . there might be a bruise, I’m not sure, Barbara.”

  Now Ruby’s ears had truly pricked up; she stopped chewing her bubble gum.

  “So then he starts to pull me across the square . . . yes, by the arm . . . no, there was no one around . . . you’re so right, I know it can get that way after lunch . . . I do too.”

  Get on with it! thought Ruby.

  “So then he is pulling me across the square to who-knows-where when suddenly all these Italian tourists walk by, he lets go of my arm and says, ‘I’m so sorry I thought you were my wife.’ And I say, ‘Well, to be honest I’m surprised you’ve got a wife if that’s how you treat her!’ . . . I know, some people . . . uh-huh . . . uh-huh, lucky for him his wife came along because I can just about promise you I would have made quite a fuss . . . well, as a matter of fact he did have a wife . . . sure, we looked something alike and yes, I was wearing a head scarf but even so . . . no, she definitely had red hair and mine is unmistakably auburn . . . thank you, Barbara, that’s very sweet of you, yes, I will absolutely give you my stylist’s number . . . Well, you could be right, maybe he was without his glasses but you would think he ought to know what his own wife looked like . . . you’re right, I am having a run of bad luck, you are so right — first we lose our luggage, then all our furniture is stolen, then our housekeeper goes off, then my purse gets snatched, and now Brant almost loses his wife to a thug!”

  Ruby’s mother was laughing so hard she nearly fell off her chair.

  “Some men really lack charm — don’t they, Barbara? Do you remember Walt Waverly, wasn’t he the worst! So rude . . .”

  Ruby gave up listening. This type of conversation could go on for hours between her mother and Barbara, and it was unlikely that they would return to the point. Ruby wandered upstairs to the kitchen, deep in thought. Grabbing a cookie, she made her way to her room, pulled out her notebook and jotted down everything she’d overheard. Her mother might be convinced it was just a case of mistaken identity but Ruby wasn’t so sure.

  One thing her moth
er was right about, however, was that she had been having a lot of bad luck lately.

  THURSDAY CAME AND IT STARTED WELL — that is to say, the sun came up. But things went downhill from there.

  First of all, Ruby was woken early by Consuela.

  “Hey, Ruby, get up. Your new bed has arrived.”

  “I have a bed, I’m in it,” muttered Ruby. She had the covers pulled up to her nose and an eye mask printed with the words, wake only in case of emergency.

  Consuela lifted the mask. “Well, your mother has bought you a whole bedroom set so you better snap to it, señorita.”

  Ruby pulled the covers over her face. “Tell her I like it the way it is. I like the space, it’s very Zen, you know what I’m saying?”

  “Well, you can discuss it with her yourself. I’m not interested — but furniture or no furniture she wants you out of here,” said Consuela.

  “As far as I am aware,” said Ruby confidently, “today is Twinford Blossom Day, and that means a local holiday, which means I get to stay in bed.”

  “Not today, missy,” said Consuela, tapping her foot. “Today you have lunch with the Humberts.”

  Slowly Ruby peeled the sheet from her face. “You are not serious?”

  Consuela, who was standing with her hands firmly on her hips, nodded. “Sorry to ruin your Thursday but you better get dressed, missy — rápido.”

  Ruby was missing Mrs. Digby; she would at least have looked sympathetic.

  The thing was, Brant Redfort was a stickler for manners, and the very thought that anyone might feel in any way snubbed by a member of the Redfort family made him shudder. There were no two ways about it — she would have to go.

  “Hey, is my jacket mended yet?” asked Ruby.

  “No, Hitch sent it away,” said Consuela.

  “Sent it away where?” asked Ruby.

  “To the place that’s cleaning your mother’s jacket — Clean and Crisp or something — he says it’s the best for repairs.”