Ann Martin - Stacey And The Mystery At The Mall

Jessi didn't try to answer that. She knew she couldn't waste time saving presents in a burning mall, but she didn't want to scare the birthday girl. "Let’s go," she said. "I bet your mom and sister are wondering where you are." She hurried Hannah to the exit door which Mr. Magee was holding open. Then she and Hannah stepped outside into the bright sunlight.

"Over here, Hannah!" called Mrs. Powers, who was standing near a lightpost with the group of children. Hannah ran to her.

Jessi, blinking, turned to look at the mall. She didn't see any flames or smoke, and she wondered if there really was a fire.

"Hey, Jessi!" I shouted. I had seen her come out, and now I ran to meet her. Mallory joined us.

"Do you think there's really a fire?" Jessi asked.

I shook my head. "I don't think so," I said. "I've already talked to Alan Gray and Logan, and to people from a couple of stores, and nobody saw or smelled anything."

"Must have been a false alarm," said Mal.

We stood talking for a while. Fire engines pulled up, and the fire fighters jumped out and ran into the building, but nothing else happened. They didn't come back to get hoses cr anything. On the other hand, they weren't about to let us into the mall until they were positive there was no fire.

After about fifteen minutes, Mrs. Powers told Jessi that she and the girls were going to leave. "I'll drop by later to pick up the presents," she said. "But I think for now we'll just continue the games at home. Thanks for all your help."

Jessi said good-bye to Hannah and the rest of the girls, and then we stood around and waited some more. Finally, Kristy showed up, looking important in her security cap.

"False alarm," she said, without our even having to ask. "And I already saw the videotape from the camera posted near the box." "Wow, really?" I said. "What did you see?" "Nothing conclusive," said Kristy. "But there was one weird thing. Right after the alarm went off, those three blonde kids ran past the camera. And they looked scared to death."

Chapter 13.

"Ahhh!" said Kristy, flopping back on my bed. "This is great. Just like we planned — no work, no baby-sitting, no meeting. Total relaxation." She picked up my copy of #1 Fan, a magazine I sometimes buy, and started to leaf through it.

Kristy, Mary Anne, and I were hanging out at my house after school on Thursday. We had been looking forward to this afternoon ever since we had planned it, weeks ago. Project Work had been taking up a lot of our time, but there was only one more week to go. Then we'd return to our busy schedules of school, sitting, meetings, and more sitting. For just this one afternoon, we had planned to take it easy. Later, Kristy was going to Mary Anne's house for dinner and my mom had offered to take me out to my favorite restaurant.

Claudia had an art class that afternoon, and

Mal was sitting for her brothers while her mom took the girls shopping. Logan had track tryouts, and Shannon was sitting for the Rodowskys. Jessi had planned to spend some time with Becca, working on a garden they were planning for the Ramseys' backyard.

Mary Anne leaned over Kristy's shoulder to look at the magazine. "There's Cam Geary," she said. "Doesn't he look gorgeous in that blue shirt? Blue is his favorite color, you know." Mary Anne has had a major crush on Cam Geary for a long time. She's always telling Logan he looks just like Cam.

"Is that why you bought Logan a blue shirt?" Kristy asked.

"No!" exclaimed Mary Anne, blushing. ''Well, maybe that was partly why. But blue happens to be Logan's favorite color, too."

I picked up another magazine. "Cam's okay," I said, "but he's kind of young. I like older guys, like Steve Matthews." I showed my friends a poster-sized pullout of a guy with dark hair and deep brown eyes.

Kristy threw down her magazine. "I don't

know," she said. "None of these guys seems

real to me. I mean, I'd want to know how well

they can catch a line drive to third base. That

kind of thing matters more to me than looks."

"I guess Barfs perfect for you, then," I said.

"I've seen him do some amazing things on a baseball field." Bart Taylor is Kristy's sort-of boyfriend. He coaches a softball team for little kids, just as Kristy does. Sometimes Kristy's Krushers and Bart's Bashers play each other.

Kristy sighed loudly.

"Thinking about Bart?" asked Mary Anne.

"Not really," Kristy said. "I'm thinking about what we're all thinking about, even though we don't want to admit it. I'm thinking about what’s going on at the mall."

Mary Anne and I looked down at the floor. It was true. As hard as we were trying, we couldn't really relax and forget about the problems at the mall.

"Let's just talk about it," said Kristy. "There's no point in pretending we aren't worried about them."

"Them" — the three blonde kids. Since Tuesday, when Kristy had seen them run past the video camera after the alarm had been pulled, none of us had spotted the kids even once. We didn't see them leave the mall on Tuesday, after the fire alarm. And we didn't see them anywhere on Wednesday. And they hadn't shown up at Mal's story hour, which was unusual, since they had been coming regularly. They didn't appear even once in the

videotapes Kristy had reviewed late Wednesday afternoon.

Now Kristy stood up and started to pace around. "It’s so weird," she said. "I didn't even realize how much I was used to seeing them. They always showed up on the tapes at one point or another. Some days I'd see them four or five times. First they'd be sitting near the fountain, and then I'd see them walking through the food court — they were just, like, always there. And now they aren't."

Mary Anne frowned. "I hope they're okay," she said. //What could have happened to them?"

"What if it has something to do with the fire alarm?" I said. "After all, that’s the last time we spotted them."

"Do you think they pulled it?" asked Mary Anne.

"They've never caused trouble before," said Kristy. "They wouldn't pull it just for fun."

"Maybe they thought they saw a fire," I said.

Kristy snapped her fingers. "I just remembered something," she said. "On that videotape — the one from the camera by the fire alarm? — guess who I saw right before the

alarm went off and the kids ran by? Mr. Morton. He looked pretty upset, too. I didn't think much of it. He's the mall manager, and he's always showing up on the tapes."

"But you said you used to see him talking to those kids all the time," I said. "And we agree something's not quite right about him. What about the problem with the funds at the mall — that whole bankruptcy thing?"

"I wonder if he was talking to them that day," said Kristy slowly.

"What if he was?" asked Mary Anne. "He's a nice guy, right? So, he talks to people at the mall. Why should that mean anything bad?"

Kristy sat down on the floor, and I stood up and took her place pacing around the room. I was thinking about Mr. Morton. I went over everything we knew about him. He had only managed the mall for a few months. He was a really nice, likable guy. He was willing to do all kinds of things to improve the mall and its image. The mall was in financial trouble.

"I wonder if — " Mary Anne began, but I interrupted her.

"Whoa!" I said. "I think I just figured it all out!" I stood stock still, next to my desk. Mary Anne and Kristy looked shocked. "Well, maybe not all of it," I went on. "But listen. I think I know what’s going on. You know how

everybody says Mr. Morton is such a nice guy? Well, that’s the problem."

"What do you mean?" asked Kristy.

"What’s wrong with being a nice guy?" asked Mary Anne.

'I'll tell you," I said. I started to pace again, around and around. Past the desk, past the closet, past the bureau, past the bed. Then I started talking fast. "That’s how he got himself — and the mall — into such a mess. He's such a nice guy that he can't say no to anybody. He wants to do everything he can to help the mall and the community. So he says yes to benefit concerts, special discount programs, and even day-care centers."