Chapter Four
The Sinister Skeleton in Silk Pajamas
The next morning, I shimmied up a braided rope and scrambled through our secret trapdoor.
“Did you read David Shaw’s piece in the newspaper?” Twist was glancing at the Cloak-and-Dagger Chronicles.
“I haven’t had time,” I said. “Why? What’s going on?”
Twist crossed to the window and looked out. “He was interviewed by a reporter.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So he said that he found a skeleton in a coffin and determined the bones to be that of the fabled Princess Mei. The reporter asked him if anything unusual happened and he told her that at first the scene was pretty typical. He lifted the casket lid and saw a decaying pair of silk pajamas draped over the princess’s skeletal remains. But, just as he was …show more content…
“What kind of dog did Mr. Greene have?”
“It was a wire-haired fox terrier,” I told him. “Why?”
“Because something about its whine bothers me,” he muttered.
I gave him the here we go again look. “Like the rooster in my grandpa’s barn that was pecking at grass and seed.”
“The bird’s cock-a-doodle-doo sounded mechanical,” he insisted.
“All right, maybe,” I allowed. And then my cell phone chirped. I fished it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. “My dad gave Miss McBride my number.” A moment later, it rang. “Hello, Deadwood Detective Agency. Ghosts are our pleasure. How may we assist you?”
A woman on the other end said, “Is this Madison Mischief?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is Emma McBride. We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
“Could you and your friends come to my …show more content…
Her voice was suddenly sharp and wary. “You saw my great-uncle’s spirit two nights ago?”
“Yes.” I pressed the phone’s speaker button so the boys could hear. “Seth and I saw the ghost. Why?”
“Because he’s here now, haunting my house,” she said honestly.
“Oh, goodness,” I managed. “Let me discuss this with my associates. We’ll get back to you.”
“Your father said that you want to be a writer.”
“True.”
“Here’s your chance to compose a great story.”
“Hold on a second please.” I cover the phone with my hand. “Well?”
“Did I mention that Florida is very nice this time of year?” Twist asked weakly.
“You don’t have to go,” I said.
“Oh . . .” He shifted his feet. “No . . . it’s just that ghosts and haunted houses . . . well . . .” he took a deep breath, “the Ghostbusters Training Manual does recommend that you complete the assignment no matter how much your knees knock or your teeth chatter. So if you’re serious about wanting me along, I won’t let you down.”
“Okay, Miss McBride. The agency is on it.” I grabbed a pencil and jotted down the address.
“Great. We can make a weekend out of it.”
“All right,” I said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” She sighed, and the line went
The Sinister Skeleton in Silk Pajamas
The next morning, I shimmied up a braided rope and scrambled through our secret trapdoor.
“Did you read David Shaw’s piece in the newspaper?” Twist was glancing at the Cloak-and-Dagger Chronicles.
“I haven’t had time,” I said. “Why? What’s going on?”
Twist crossed to the window and looked out. “He was interviewed by a reporter.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So he said that he found a skeleton in a coffin and determined the bones to be that of the fabled Princess Mei. The reporter asked him if anything unusual happened and he told her that at first the scene was pretty typical. He lifted the casket lid and saw a decaying pair of silk pajamas draped over the princess’s skeletal remains. But, just as he was …show more content…
“What kind of dog did Mr. Greene have?”
“It was a wire-haired fox terrier,” I told him. “Why?”
“Because something about its whine bothers me,” he muttered.
I gave him the here we go again look. “Like the rooster in my grandpa’s barn that was pecking at grass and seed.”
“The bird’s cock-a-doodle-doo sounded mechanical,” he insisted.
“All right, maybe,” I allowed. And then my cell phone chirped. I fished it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. “My dad gave Miss McBride my number.” A moment later, it rang. “Hello, Deadwood Detective Agency. Ghosts are our pleasure. How may we assist you?”
A woman on the other end said, “Is this Madison Mischief?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is Emma McBride. We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
“Could you and your friends come to my …show more content…
Her voice was suddenly sharp and wary. “You saw my great-uncle’s spirit two nights ago?”
“Yes.” I pressed the phone’s speaker button so the boys could hear. “Seth and I saw the ghost. Why?”
“Because he’s here now, haunting my house,” she said honestly.
“Oh, goodness,” I managed. “Let me discuss this with my associates. We’ll get back to you.”
“Your father said that you want to be a writer.”
“True.”
“Here’s your chance to compose a great story.”
“Hold on a second please.” I cover the phone with my hand. “Well?”
“Did I mention that Florida is very nice this time of year?” Twist asked weakly.
“You don’t have to go,” I said.
“Oh . . .” He shifted his feet. “No . . . it’s just that ghosts and haunted houses . . . well . . .” he took a deep breath, “the Ghostbusters Training Manual does recommend that you complete the assignment no matter how much your knees knock or your teeth chatter. So if you’re serious about wanting me along, I won’t let you down.”
“Okay, Miss McBride. The agency is on it.” I grabbed a pencil and jotted down the address.
“Great. We can make a weekend out of it.”
“All right,” I said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” She sighed, and the line went