The Mystery at Claudia's House

  The kids seemed to accept the change of plans. And Stacey couldn’t help noticing that Derek looked especially happy — and relieved.

  I couldn’t believe it. It boggled my mind. It flipped me out just to think about it. I never expected this to happen, not in a million years. Not to Janine.

  Janine got grounded.

  Perfect Janine, obedient Janine, Janine the good sister.

  I knew I was wrong to feel happy about it. I tried not to show how I felt. But part of me was bursting with pure, wild joy. For once, I wasn’t in trouble. For once, I could be the good sister.

  Let me start from the beginning, since it will be a pleasure to tell the whole story again!

  On Thursday morning, I was in the kitchen eating cinnamon toast. I was dressed and ready to go to school, so for once I could take my time eating breakfast. (I was wearing a royal-blue sweatshirt dress I’d just bought the day before.) I was talking to Mom about my plans for the weekend (sitting for the Perkins girls Friday night, going to the movies with Stacey and Dawn on Saturday night), and Mom was washing the dishes.

  Then Janine came downstairs, wearing one of her new outfits — a gray wool skirt (one of her old ones, which she’d hemmed to a much more interesting length), a pink oxford shirt, which she must have bought recently, and my red sweater, which she seemed to have claimed as her own. Her fingernails were still orange. The pink and the red and the orange clashed just a little bit, but I didn’t want to upset Janine by mentioning it. I had decided to encourage her fashion-wise and not pick on the little things.

  When she sat down at the table, I could see that she’d also done her best with putting on some makeup. Her mascara was a little clumpy, and her blush wasn’t blended as well as it could be, but overall she looked good. I gave her the thumbs-up sign, and she smiled.

  She reached for a piece of toast and started to butter it. “Good morning, Mom,” she said.

  “Morning, hon,” said my mother, who was still washing dishes.

  “Where’s Dad?” asked Janine.

  “Oh, he had to leave early this morning.”

  Janine took a bite of toast and looked at Mom’s back. “I won’t be home for dinner tonight,” she said quickly. “I’m going to be studying late again. I’ll be at the college library, with a friend.”

  “Okay,” said my mother. “It’s all right for you to miss dinner now and then, as long as you tell us ahead of time. We just worry when we expect you and you don’t show up.”

  Boy, Janine gets all the breaks. I’m sure I’d never hear the end of it if I wanted to miss dinner. Of course, I wouldn’t be missing it in order to study. I’d probably be missing it because there was a special sale at the mall or something. And my parents just don’t accept shopping as an excuse. I was all wrapped up in my thoughts, so I barely noticed when Mom asked Janine if she’d like to ask her friend over for dinner some time when they didn’t have to study. “We’d love to have her,” she added.

  “Uh, sure,” said Janine. “I will. Ask her, I mean.”

  It occurred to me then that Janine had been acting strangely throughout the discussion of her plans for the evening. I can’t say exactly what tipped me off; maybe just the tone of her voice, or the way she was tapping her fingernails on the table. But all at once I knew Janine was hiding something.

  My mom didn’t notice. For one thing, her back was turned to Janine. For another, she just assumes Janine is always honest and reliable. But I knew. I hate to gloat, but I knew something was up. So I wasn’t all that surprised at what happened a few days later.

  It was Saturday. I was helping Mom with some yard work, which is not my favorite activity in the world. Mom was clipping the grass around the flower beds, where the mower doesn’t reach, and I was following her with a rake. “You know,” I said, “I saw this story in a magazine about these people who never, ever mow their lawn. It looks really cool — like a meadow. Why couldn’t we do that?”

  My mother sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead. “I never thought of that,” she said. “It does sound like a perfect solution. But your father would not go for it. He kind of enjoys mowing the lawn.”

  “Just think, though,” I said, beginning to imagine the possibilities. “We wouldn’t have to rake leaves in the fall, because they wouldn’t even show up in all that tall grass. And we’d probably find gorgeous wildflowers growing everywhere.”

  My mom shook her head. “It wouldn’t work out,” she said. “The neighbors would be furious with us.”

  “About what?” somebody asked. I looked up and saw Mrs. Braddock, who lives nearby. She had walked into our yard, carrying a big basket. “It’s hard to imagine being furious with the Kishi family,” she went on.

  Mom laughed. “Don’t worry, we were just daydreaming,” she said. She stood up and dusted off her knees.

  “I brought you some bread,” said Mrs. Braddock. “Haley and Matt and I have been trying to learn how to bake, and we ended up with more than we could ever eat.”

  “Isn’t that nice,” said Mom. I knew she didn’t just mean it was nice of Mrs. Braddock to bring the bread. She also meant it was nice that she was spending time with her kids, learning how to bake bread together.

  The Braddocks are a neat family. Our club baby-sits for them fairly often, so we know the kids pretty well. Haley is nine, and her brother Matt is seven. Matt is deaf. He can’t hear at all. He communicates with sign language, which all of us club members have tried to learn. Jessi is especially good at it, but none of us is as good as Haley. She’s fluent in it, and can have long, fast, complicated conversations with Matt. It’s fascinating to watch them “talk.” Their hands fly all over the place. In fact, they talk with their entire bodies.

  “I haven’t seen Matt and Haley for a long time,” said my mom. “How are they?”

  “Oh, just fine,” said Mrs. Braddock. “And I can see that your kids are doing well, too. Claudia, you look sophisticated even when you’re gardening.” I smiled. “And Janine is beginning to look like quite a young lady,” Mrs. Braddock went on. “I saw her at Pizza Express the other night, and she looked radiant.”

  “Pizza Express?” my mother and I repeated. “Janine?” my mother added.

  “Mm-hmm,” said Mrs. Braddock. “Let’s see, it was Thursday night, I guess. The night before last. Yes, it was, because I was on my way to the movies. I waved at Janine through the window, but I guess she didn’t see me.”

  My mother and I exchanged a look. “Well, I’m sure she didn’t,” said my mother. She and Mrs. Braddock talked for a while longer, and then Mrs. Braddock handed us three huge loaves of bread from her basket.

  “I’d better go deliver the rest of these,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ll be supplying bread to the whole neighborhood for a while.” She laughed.

  Mom and I smiled and waved at her as she left the yard. But as soon as she was out of sight, Mom put down her hand and stopped smiling. “I can’t believe it,” she said quietly.

  “What?” I asked, knowing perfectly well what she was talking about.

  “It’s just so unlike Janine to —” She stopped herself. “I’ll have to talk to your father about this,” she said, and I saw I wasn’t going to get any more out of her. But I knew that she knew Janine had not told her the truth about Thursday night.

  My dad returned from the golf course at about one that afternoon, and my mother grabbed him practically the second he stepped out of the car. She asked him to come into the house so they could talk. I stayed outside, raking, but I could hear their voices through the open kitchen window. Mom sounded pretty upset.

  At three o’clock Janine came home from the library (at least, that’s where she said she’d been), and that’s when the fireworks started. This time, I could hear every word, since I was in the kitchen getting a snack. Mom and Dad nabbed Janine as she came into the house, and sat her down in the living room for a talk.

  “It’s not that we mind if you go to Pizza Express,” I heard my mothe
r say. “But the fact that you misled us, and said you were going to the library …”

  Now, if I had been in that situation, I could have handled it much better than Janine did. I would have confessed to going to Pizza Express, since Mom had just said that she didn’t mind that. But I would have said I had finished early at the library and decided to stop off for a slice on the way home.

  Janine, however, doesn’t have much practice handling parents. She’s never had to fib, or make up white lies. She’s always just been naturally good. So she blurted out the truth. “I did mislead you, and I feel terrible about it,” she said. I heard her sniff, as if she were trying not to cry. “I just thought you wouldn’t approve, that you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Not approve of your eating pizza?” asked my father. “That’s ridiculous. All teenagers eat pizza.”

  “I don’t,” said Janine miserably. “Or at least, I never did before. I was always too busy studying. And you’re always so proud of how well I do in school. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “Oh, honey,” said my mother. “We care about you, not just your grades. And the only way you could disappoint us is by betraying our trust, which is what you’ve done.”

  I heard Janine sniff again. “I know,” she said, in a tiny little voice. “I’m sorry.”

  “First you miss dinner and forget to call, and now this,” my mother went on. “I’m afraid ‘sorry’ isn’t enough.”

  “That’s right,” agreed my father. “But I think two days at home might teach you something.”

  “You mean I — I’m grounded?” asked Janine. She said the word as if it were in a foreign language, which in a way, it was — to her.

  “Yes,” said Mom firmly. “Your father and I agree that you should be grounded for two days. We’re sorry to have to do this, but —”

  “I understand,” said Janine quietly.

  In the kitchen, I put my hand over my mouth. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Janine was being punished, and I wasn’t! Not that it was all that much of a punishment. I mean, Janine spends most of her time studying anyway. Grounding her for two days wasn’t going to change her life radically. Except that she wouldn’t be able to go to the library, or Pizza Express for that matter.

  Later that afternoon, I slipped into Janine’s room to sympathize with her. “Tough break,” I said.

  “I deserved it,” she replied. “I lied to them.”

  “But why?” I asked. “They don’t care if you go out for pizza. They just said so.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Claudia,” said Janine stiffly. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have some homework to do.”

  That was it. I went back to my room in a huff, and right then and there I made a decision. I had not yet unraveled the entire mystery, and I was going to find out what Janine was up to. Then, maybe, if she was nicer to me, I could help her keep out of trouble. If not, at least I could satisfy my own curiosity.

  I decided that the best way to find out what was going on would be to put a tail on Janine. A tail like in the detective stories. Someone who would follow her and observe her behavior. And who better to do that than the members of the BSC? Our club already has a great record in solving mysteries.

  I reached for the phone and dialed Stacey’s number. “Hi, Stace,” I began. “You’ll never believe what happened!”

  Stacey and I spent quite a while on the phone that night, plotting and planning. I also talked to Kristy, Dawn, and Mallory. When I woke up on Sunday morning, I knew that by then every member of the BSC must know about what had happened to Janine. And we were gearing up to find out what was behind her strange behavior.

  I put on my robe and slippers and headed down the hall to Janine’s room. “Hi,” I said, rubbing my eyes and yawning. “Aren’t you coming downstairs for breakfast?”

  Janine was already up and dressed and hard at work on her computer. “I already had some yogurt and fruit,” she said. “I decided that if I’m going to be stuck in my room, I might as well make the best use of the time.”

  Janine is unbelievable. Most normal average teenagers — like me — would never even think of “making the best use of the time” while they were grounded. I’ll bet if you polled grounded kids about their main activities, “sulking” and “painting my toenails” would probably be high on the list. But Janine has never been normal or average. I don’t know why I even expected her to act any differently than she always does. And trust me, it’s not that unusual to find Janine doing homework at nine-thirty on a Sunday morning.

  Sometimes it’s so hard to believe she is actually my sister.

  As I went downstairs, I felt my stomach begin to rumble. I could smell bacon frying and waffles cooking, and suddenly I was starving. “Morning!” I said to my parents as I entered the kitchen.

  “Morning, sweetie,” said my mom.

  “Ready for waffles?” asked my dad, flipping a couple of them onto a plate.

  “Definitely,” I said. And then, for the next few minutes, I didn’t say anything except maybe “yum” and “pass the butter, please.” I was too busy stuffing my face with those delicious waffles. After the second one, I started to slow down. I was getting full. “I have to sit at the Masterses’ later,” I said to my mother, “but if you need more help in the garden this morning, I’m available.”

  My mother raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, honey. It’s nice of you to offer,” she said, sounding a little surprised. “But it looks like rain. I think I’ll clean out the basement, instead.”

  “I could help with that,” I told her. “After I clean up the kitchen, of course.”

  My mother looked kind of stunned. I don’t usually offer to work around the house. I mean, I do the chores I’ve been assigned, but that’s about it. And even then, to be honest, I often have to be reminded. No wonder my mom was surprised. But I guess she didn’t want to look at a gift horse’s teeth, or however that expression goes.

  “Well, I’d be glad for your help,” she said. “There’s a lot to do.”

  I spent that morning being helpful and charming and polite, the “good sister.” I only had two days to bask in the glow of my new status, so I wanted to make the most of it.

  I could tell that my parents appreciated the new me, but I could also sense that they were a little bewildered about my sudden personality change.

  The fact is, I’m the only one who worries about “good sister/bad sister.” I know that, in reality, my parents love me and Janine equally. I know that they don’t value her good grades over my artistic talent; both are given equal weight. And it’s not that I’m a terrible person, or that I’m usually rude and lazy. My parents would probably think I was nuts if I explained what I was up to when I took on all those extra little jobs that Sunday morning. So I didn’t explain. I just worked. And it felt good. But to be honest, I also knew I would be relieved when Janine’s punishment was over and she could take back the “good sister” role. That’s just the way my mind works.

  Anyway, by that afternoon, I was already tired of being good. I don’t know how Janine stands it! I was glad I had a sitting job, so I could get out of the house. In fact, I decided to walk over to the Masterses’ instead of asking for a ride. That way I’d have to leave even earlier.

  The sky was awfully gray when I stepped outside, but I didn’t feel like going back in for an umbrella or a raincoat. I decided to chance it, even though it’s a bit of a walk to the Masterses’. I walked quickly, thinking about what I might do that afternoon with Todd and Derek. I’d heard what our Kissing Expert had been up to lately, and I wanted to avoid any similar activities. I tried to think what else would interest the boys.

  Suddenly, I realized something that made me smile. Derek might not really be a kissing expert, but he was an expert in something else: detective work! After his guest appearances on Kid Detectives, he probably knew all kinds of stuff about tailing people and cracking mysteries. He’d be perfect for helping me figure out the mystery at
my house.

  I ran the rest of the way to the Masterses’, partly because I was excited and partly because it had started to rain. I was out of breath by the time I got there, but I managed to act professional with Mr. and Mrs. Masters. Then, as soon as they left, I pulled Derek and Todd into the living room. I knew Todd would probably be less interested in the Janine mystery than Derek would be, but I also knew Todd thinks anything his big brother does is fascinating.

  “Listen, you guys,” I said. “I want you to be my deputies.”

  “Do we get to wear stars?” asked Todd. I guess he’s seen a cowboy movie or two on TV, so he knew just what a deputy is.

  “Sure, I’ll get you some stars,” I said. “Now, Derek, I need your expert advice. You know a lot about how to be a detective, right?”

  “Sure,” said Derek. I had the feeling he was glad this conversation wasn’t going to be about kissing.

  “Okay, here’s the situation,” I said. I talked for a long time. I told the boys about Janine, and what she’s like: How she never used to care about clothes or makeup. How she has no social life because her schoolwork comes first. How she’s always been a model child — until now. And how she’s changed.

  Derek listened closely. “Wow,” he said, when I’d finished. “Something big is going on.”

  “I know,” I replied. “Do you think you can help me find out what it is?”

  “Definitely. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  “Cake!” said Todd. “I want some!”

  Uh-oh. “Gee, I don’t know if there is any,” I said. “But come on, let’s see what we can find.” Derek was already thinking hard about The Case of the Weird Sister, so I figured I better keep Todd occupied.