“I really appreciate this,” the sheriff said.
“Don’t think twice about it,” the old woman said.
Back in the parking lot, the Grimms and Puck found Mr. Canis still meditating on the roof of the jalopy.
“We’re heading into the forest,” Granny said, opening the back door and letting Elvis out. “Why don’t you stay here in case Wendell wanders back to the school.”
“Are you sure you won’t be needing me?” the old man said.
“We’ve got this one handled,” Granny Relda said.
“Can I ask you a question, Mr. Canis?” Daphne asked.
“Of course, little one.”
“What do you think about when you’re sitting on top of the car?”
Mr. Canis thought for a moment, then looked up at the moon, now high over the nearby forest. “I concentrate on all the people I hurt when I was unable to control myself.”
“And that helps you stay calm?” Sabrina asked.
“No child, it helps remind me of my guilt,” he replied.
Sabrina didn’t know a lot of fairy-tale stories. Her dad used to say fairy tales were pointless. When other kids were reading about the Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, her father was discussing the news with his daughters or reading them the Sunday comics using different voices for the characters. Sabrina and Daphne had done their fairy-tale reading on the sly or at school. Still, everyone knew the story of Little Red Riding Hood, and as Sabrina looked at Mr. Canis, a terrible realization ran through her. This man sitting on the car roof, who slept across the hall from them at night, had killed an old woman once upon a time. Only it wasn’t a story, it had really happened. He’d tried to eat a child, too. How could Granny let him live in the house? No wonder her dad had forbidden even a copy of Mother Goose from entering their home. He was trying to protect them from the truth.
Granny was busy holding Wendell’s coat under Elvis’s nose. The giant dog took a deep lung full and was soon trotting across the school lawn, sniffing madly in the grass.
“Looks like he’s got the scent, lieblings,” Granny said. “Let’s go find our Wendell.”
lvis’s big feet crunched on the hard ground. The night had grown bitterly cold and every once in a while Sabrina spotted a snowflake floating toward the ground. She was freezing, even in her heavy coat. If Wendell was still alive out in the woods without his, it would be a miracle.
Elvis sniffed the air. Once the big dog caught a scent, he never lost it. When he reached the edge of the trees, he stopped and barked impatiently at the family. It was obvious they were slowing him down.
“Oh, I wish I could bottle his energy,” Granny Relda said, taking Sabrina’s arm in order to help herself across the school’s icy lawn. “I’d be a rich old lady.”
When they finally reached Elvis, he led them into the woods. He sniffed wildly, rushing back and forth along a path, following the scent, but managing to stick close to the family, as if he knew the old woman would have a difficult time keeping up with his pace.
Sabrina heard a branch snap in the distance and saw the dog’s keen ears perk up. She expected him to run off howling in the direction of the sound, but instead he continued to follow his invisible path.
It seemed as if they had been searching for hours and Sabrina’s toes were getting numb. Puck complained and suggested that they give up several times, insisting that Wendell’s rabbit army had probably turned on him and were now feasting on his chubby body. Sabrina was also ready to give up, when they came to a small clearing and a sight so incredible even Granny Relda gasped.
On the ground at their feet was a mound of fur nearly four feet high and six feet wide. At first, Sabrina thought it might be a small bear, but as they got closer they realized it wasn’t a single animal, but a group of many. In fact, it was a pile of rabbits huddling together in the cold. Elvis growled at the pile, but if the little forest animals noticed, they chose to ignore him.
“I told you!” Puck cried. “His woodland army mutinied! I hope he was delicious, little rodents!”
The old woman stepped close to the pile and leaned down. “Wendell!”
The mound stirred for a moment but then became totally still.
“Wendell! Your father is worried sick about you,” Granny Relda scolded. “Now come out of there this instant.”
“No!” a voice shouted from the depths of the rabbits. “You’re going to take me to jail. I won’t go.”
“No one is taking you to jail, Wendell,” Granny said. “All we want to do is take you home.”
The mound stirred and shivered. A brief note from the boy’s harmonica was heard and suddenly the rabbits rushed off in different directions.
“Run, you dirty little carrot-munchers,” Puck shouted after them. “But know today that your kind has made an enemy of the Trickster King!”
When they were all gone, Wendell lay at the family’s feet. Granny stepped forward, helped the boy up, and got him into his coat.
“I didn’t do it,” he insisted.
“Then why did you run?” Sabrina asked.
“And send rabbits to eat us! I’m a seven-year-old girl,” Daphne said. “Do you know how important bunny rabbits are to me?”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me. I knew how it looked, but I was trying to stop them,” the boy pleaded. “If I had gotten in trouble, it would have ruined all my work so far.”
He shoved his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Granny. The old woman read it, looked impressed, and nodded at him.
Sabrina took the card and read it closely. It said, WENDELL EMORY HAMELIN, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR. At the bottom of the card was a magnifying glass with a huge eye inside it.
“So, you’re a detective,” Granny Relda said with a smile.
Daphne snatched the card and studied it. “I want a business card, too.”
“Something terrible is happening inside the school,” Wendell said. “I’m trying to find whoever’s responsible and stop them.”
“We know. Why don’t you tell us everything on the way back to the school,” the old woman said. “Your father is there waiting for you.”
The group trudged back through the forest and Wendell told them all he had learned.
“I was leaving the school yesterday, when I looked back and saw something happening in Mr. Grumpner’s room,” he said, stopping to blow his nose into his handkerchief. “Sorry, I’ve got really bad allergies.”
“It’s OK, go on,” Granny Relda replied.
“Like I was saying, Grumpner fell backward over some desks and at first I thought he might be sick, but then a monster attacked him. I was kind of far away, so I couldn’t really see, but it looked like a giant spider. It grabbed Grumpner and started covering him in its sticky web. Well, I remembered from science class that birds are a spider’s natural predator.”
“What’s a predator?” Daphne asked.
“It’s like a hunter,” Sabrina replied.
“So, I got out a harmonica I’d bought and blew into it as hard as I could,” the boy continued. “I didn’t even know if it would work. Dad told me to never do it. He said musical instruments were off limits on account of his past. Please don’t tell him I bought the harmonica. He’ll get real mad.”
Granny took his hand. “Don’t worry, Wendell.”
He relaxed and continued. “So, I just thought of birds and before I knew it the sky was full of them. They were looking at me like I was their leader or something, and it took me a while to realize they were looking for instructions, so I pointed at the window and said ‘Save Mr. Grumpner’.”
“How come you remember Mr. Grumpner?” Sabrina asked. “The rest of our class doesn’t.”
“My dad had a protection spell put on our house. Whenever they dust the town, we aren’t affected.
“So, anyway, the birds went straight for the window and smashed it. They flew in and attacked the monster. Unfortunately, it was too late. Even from out
in the yard, I could see the spider had already eaten him.”
“That explains the feathers,” Daphne said.
“And what about the janitor?” Sabrina asked, still not sure she believed the strange boy’s story.
“Ms. Spangler gave me a detention for refusing to play dodgeball,” Wendell said. “I mean, we know how to play the game. Let’s move on, already. So, when I walked in, there was this ugly, hairy thing fighting with Mrs. Heart and Ms. White. At first I thought it was a bear, but it moved way too fast and it had these weird yellow eyes. Mrs. Heart was pretty useless against it. She hid behind a desk and screamed while Ms. White fought the thing. I got my harmonica out, wondering if I could control it, too, and at first it seemed to work, but it ran to the window, opened it, and leaped outside. When you guys saw me, I wasn’t running away, I was trying to catch it.”
“You’re quite brave, Wendell,” Granny Relda said.
“My line of work isn’t for the faint of heart,” he declared, wiping his nose on his handkerchief.
“We’ve also had a run-in with an unusual creature,” the old woman said.
“I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don’t think these creatures are monsters. I think they’re the children of Everafters.”
“That’s an excellent deduction,” said Granny Relda. “You’ve got the makings of a great detective.”
The boy smiled. “The only thing I wasn’t sure about was why the attacks were taking place in the first place. That is, until I found the tunnels.”
“Tunnels!” Sabrina and Daphne cried.
“Yes, someone is digging under the school. They start in the boiler room and go on for a long time. I’m sure it’s all connected—the tunnels, the giant spider, hairy things. I just don’t know how.”
“Perhaps we should team up,” Granny Relda said. “Combining our efforts might solve the case sooner.”
“Sorry, lady, I work alone,” Wendell said as they reached the front door of the school. “Detective work is dangerous business. I don’t want any dames getting in the way.”
Sabrina rolled her eyes. Someone’s been watching too many detective movies, all right, she thought.
“I understand,” Granny said, trying her best to sound disappointed, just as Mr. Hamelin came running down the hallway. He swooped his boy up in his arms and hugged him.
“Do you know how worried your mother and I have been?” his father said, half lecturing and half laughing.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” the boy said. “But there’s a caper afoot, and I’m in the thick of it.”
“Thank you, Relda,” Mr. Hamelin said, reaching over and kissing the old woman on the cheek. “Thank you all.”
Daphne tugged on her pants and stepped forward, mimicking the sheriff’s funny little bow-legged walk. “Just doing my job, citizen,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” Sabrina added.
“I’ve heard stories that you have a harmonica, young man,” the principal said, reaching his hand out to the boy.
Wendell frowned. “But I need it,” he argued. “It helps with my detective work.”
“You’re about to retire,” his father said, sternly. “Until these monsters are caught, your days as a detective are over.”
Wendell reached into his pocket and pulled out his shiny harmonica. He reluctantly handed it to his father and grimaced when Hamelin stuffed it into his pants pocket.
“Mr. Hamelin, before we go, I was wondering something,” Sabrina said. “Are there any more children here at the school like Wendell?”
“What do you mean?” the principal asked.
“You know, children of Everafters?”
“He’s the only one I know of.”
“Anyone else on the staff?”
“Only Ms. White, myself, and now Mrs. Heart,” Hamelin said. “About ten years ago Ms. Muffet, the Beast, and the Frog Prince were all on staff, but they went in on a lottery ticket and won millions of dollars and quit. I was happy for them but it was a real shame. Good teachers are hard to find.”
“Anyone else?”
“I, uh, I’m not sure,” Hamelin said. “They don’t really come with tags. I suppose there might be a couple, but I wouldn’t know.”
“Of course,” Granny Relda said. She looked at Sabrina and the girl saw a sparkle in her eye, the kind her grandmother got when she found an important clue. “Is there a phone I could use?”
The principal gestured toward his door. “There’s one in the secretary’s office.”
“Thank you,” Granny said, slipping out the door. “Children, I’ll be right back.”
The group stared at one another in awkward silence.
At last Puck spoke. “So, Piper, how many rats were there?” he asked, referring to the man’s famous adventure.
“Thousands,” the principal replied.
“That’s gross,” Daphne groaned.
Granny returned to the room and smiled. “Well, we have to be going, now,” she said, turning to Wendell. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
“Trouble would be wise to stay out of my way,” the boy said, sounding like a movie detective.
As the family walked back down the hall, they passed the boiler room.
“We should check the tunnels now while no one is here,” Sabrina suggested, walking over to the boiler room door and trying the knob. It was locked.
“No, if people are being killed to protect what’s in them, I suggest we take the hint for now,” Granny Relda replied. “At least until we find out who these murderers are. In the meantime, I think I know the parents of our killers. Let’s have a chat with them.”
A skinny Christmas tree sat at the entrance to the police station. It was hung with a few strands of tinsel and had a garland wrapped sloppily around it. A couple of boxes of shiny bulbs sat underneath it, waiting to be strung on the tree’s limbs. As they passed the display, Sabrina finally realized how overworked the sheriff was. He didn’t even have time to finish his holiday decorations.
Sheriff Hamstead was at the front desk, surrounded by six of the most unusual people Sabrina had ever seen. She recognized two of them immediately. Beauty and the Beast weren’t a couple she would soon forget. The dazzlingly gorgeous Beauty was a complete contrast to her husband, the fur-covered, fang-faced Beast. As for the others in the room, there was a pretty blond woman in a tiara and satiny blue gown standing next to a tall, strong man with enormous green eyes and an odd scaly skin disorder. The Frog Prince, Sabrina realized. Next to them was a chubby woman covered in jewels, Little Miss Muffet, holding hands, or in this case, holding the leg, of an enormous black spider nearly the size of Elvis. All six of them were complaining and shouting at the sheriff.
“What’s the meaning of this, Hamstead?” the Beast growled.
“We had dinner reservations at Old King Cole’s,” Beauty cried. “Do you know how long it takes to get a table at Christmastime? We called in September!”
The Frog Prince’s bride was as angry as anyone. “Drag me out of my home in the middle of the night,” she huffed. “We’re royalty!”
“It’s beyond rude,” the scaly Frog Prince complained.
The spider clicked angrily with its gigantic pincers.
“Settle down, everyone,” the sheriff shouted, as he stood up. “Relda Grimm will explain everything.”
“What? Since when does Relda Grimm run the police force?” Little Miss Muffet demanded. Her spider companion clicked and hissed in protest.
“The mayor has asked my family to help with the investigation of the two murders at Ferryport Landing Elementary,” Granny replied.
Little Miss Muffet stepped forward. “What’s that got to do with us?” she asked.
“Miss Muffet, it has everything to do with you,” the old woman replied. “And your children.”
The crowd gasped and averted their eyes.
“Relda Grimm, you’ve lost your mind,” the Beast declared. “None of us have children.”
“That’s what I t
hought,” Granny Relda said. “Until my granddaughter asked a question that I should have asked myself. ‘Who else worked at Ferryport Landing Elementary?’ I had nearly forgotten that you, the Frog Prince, and Little Miss Muffet were all teachers there before the three of you won the lottery.”
Sabrina beamed with pride. Granny may have disapproved of Sabrina’s suspicions about the Everafters, but it was those same suspicions that were helping solve the mystery.
“We won the lottery more than ten years ago,” Miss Muffet said. “And I go by Mrs. Arachnid now.”
“So we worked at the school. What does that have to do with the murder?” the Frog Prince asked.
“It’s your retirement that interests me. Let me explain. Witnesses say there have been attacks by two so-called monsters on school grounds,” Granny said, crossing the room and stopping in front of the Frog Prince and Princess. “And my family and I were victims of a third attack during our investigation. This one involved a half-girl, half-frog creature. Luckily, no one was hurt.”
The couple lowered their eyes and Granny moved on to Muffet, aka Mrs. Arachnid, and her spider. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for Mr. Grumpner. He was killed by what we suspect was a giant spider.”
The spider clicked angrily, but his wife was still. Granny moved on to Beauty and the Beast.
“Charlie, the school janitor, also met an untimely demise by a creature described as a hairy, man-eating beast with yellow eyes,” Granny said.
“You can’t prove those are our children,” Beauty cried.
“You’re right, but there is one thing that we can prove,” Sheriff Hamstead interjected. “None of you ever won the lottery.”
Everyone gasped, even Puck.
“I called the state lottery commission,” the sheriff continued. “They have records of every lottery winner in the last one hundred years. None of you are on their lists.”
“Where did you get the money?” Granny asked.
“Are you suggesting we sold our children?” the Beast growled.
“I think you know I am,” Granny Relda answered.
“And so am I,” Hamstead added. He reached into his pocket and took out a pair of handcuffs. “I also think you are going to be arrested unless someone starts talking.”