The Fairy-Tale Detectives (The Sisters Grimm, Book 1) Read online

  "She's going into her secret room," Sabrina whispered to her sister. Daphne's eyes widened and she bit the palm of her hand. For some reason Daphne did this whenever she was overly excited, and though it embarrassed Sabrina, she let it pass. If she tried to curb all of Daphnes odd little quirks, she would never get any sleep.

  "I wonder what's in there," Daphne whispered back.

  "That's probably where she keeps the bodies of all the other kids she's stolen from the orphanage."

  Daphne stuck out her tongue and gave her sister a raspberry.

  Sabrina had to admit she was curious about the room. Whenever she was told she couldn't do something, Sabrina found it was all she could think about doing. But the great thing about rules was that you could break them and drive adults crazy.

  "Do you hear that?" Daphne asked.

  "Yeah, she's talking to someone," Sabrina replied. "Probably Mr. Canis."

  Sabrina strained to hear the conversation, but before she could make out anything, she heard Mrs. Grimm leave the room, lock the door, and head back down the stairs.

  "Ladies, we're off," she said as she ushered them outside and went to work locking the front door. Then she knocked on the door three times, as she had the day before, but this time she said, "We'll be back."

  "Who are you talking to?" Sabrina asked.

  "The house," Mrs. Grimm replied, as if this were a perfectly natural thing to do.

  Daphne knocked on the door as well. "Good-bye, doll-house," she said, causing her sister to sigh and roll her eyes.

  As they turned to go to the car, Sabrina looked up and nearly stumbled. Mr. Canis wasn't upstairs! He was standing on the path with Elvis at his side. He returned her stare with a look of slight contempt. His gaze unnerved the girl, but no more than the realization that Mrs. Grimm had been talking to herself in her secret room.

  "We're ready, Mr. Canis," Mrs. Grimm said, and he nodded. They all climbed into the squeaky car, including Elvis, who laid his huge body across the girls' laps.

  "Did you have a chat with our neighbor?" Mrs. Grimm asked Mr. Canis as they all buckled or tied themselves in.

  "We began a conversation," the old man grumbled. "But he can be stubborn."

  "Well, he'll get used to it eventually, I suppose," Mrs. Grimm replied.

  "He doesn't have a history of getting used to things," Mr. Canis said.

  Mrs. Grimm sighed and nodded.

  "Who are you talking about?" Daphne asked.

  "Oh, just a neighbor. Nothing to worry about. You'll meet him soon enough."

  Sabrina looked around. She was sure they were miles from the nearest neighbor.

  Mr. Canis fired up the engine and the car rocked back and forth violently like a bucking bronco trying to get rid of a cowboy, calming down as they drove out the driveway and through desolate back roads. Sabrina reexamined Ferryport Landing, the world's most boring town. There was little obvious life, except an old dairy cow standing on the side of the road. Mrs. Grimm leaned over and honked, then waved wildly at the cow as they passed. When Daphne giggled about it, the old woman smiled and told her how important it was to be friendly. Meanwhile, Sabrina made the best of the trip by memorizing street names and calculating how long it would take to walk to the train station.

  They came to a mailbox with the name Applebee marked on it and Mr. Canis turned the car down a long, leaf-covered driveway lined with ancient cedars, pines, and oaks. The car passed a tractor sitting alone on a little hill and pulled over into a clearing where a massive pile of wood and pipes and glass sat surrounded by yellow emergency tape. Mrs. Grimm looked at Mr. Canis and smiled.

  "Well, we haven't had to deal with something like this in a while, have we, Mr. Canis?" she asked.

  The old man shook his head and helped her out of the car. Once she got on her feet, Mrs. Grimm opened the back door, reached in, and scratched Elvis behind the ears.

  "Girls, do you mind if I borrow my boyfriend for a moment?" she asked as she winked at Daphne.

  The Great Dane crawled clumsily out of the car, stretched a little, and looked up at the old woman for instructions. She fumbled in her purse and took out a small piece of fabric that she held under the dog's nose. He sniffed it deeply, then rushed over to the huge pile of debris and began hunting through the rubble.

  "What are we doing here?" Sabrina asked.

  "We're investigating a crime, naturally," Mrs. Grimm said.

  "Are you a police officer or something?" asked Daphne.

  "Or something," the old woman said with a grin. "Why don't you get out and take a look around?" She walked away, apparently to snoop through the rubble.

  Having a two-hundred-pound dog lie on her lap had given Sabrina a charley horse, so she and Daphne decided to get out and stretch their legs.

  "She talks to the house, and cows, and has all these crazy rules. Now she thinks she's Sherlock Holmes," Sabrina muttered.

  "Maybe it's a game," Daphne said. "I'm going to be a detective, too! I'm going to be Scooby Doo!"

  Despite all of Sabrina's warnings, Daphne seemed to be having fun, something she hadn't had in nearly a year and a half. It was nice to see a smile on her sister's face and that old light in her eyes. It was the same look she used to have when their father would read them the Sunday comics or when their mother would let them invade her closet to play dress-up. Sabrina smiled and put her arm around the little girl's shoulders. She'd let her have her fun. Who knew how long it would last?

  Just then, a long white limousine pulled into the clearing. It was bright and shiny with whitewall tires and a silver horse for a hood ornament. It parked next to Mrs. Grimm's car and a little man got out of the driver's side. He couldn't have been more than three feet high. In fact, he was no taller than Daphne. He had a big bulbous nose and a potbelly that the buttons of his black suit struggled to contain. But the most unusual thing about the man wasn't his size or his clothing. It was the pointy paper hat he wore on his head that read, I AM AN IDIOT. He rushed as quickly as he could to the other side of the car, opened the back passenger door, and was met with a barrage of insults from a man inside.

  "Mr. Seven, sometime today!" the man bellowed in an English accent. "Do you think I want to sit in this muggy car all afternoon waiting for you to find time to open the door? You know, when you came to me for a job, I happily gave you one, but every day you make me regret it!"

  A tall man in a purple suit exited the limousine and looked around. He had a strong jaw, deep blue eyes, and shiny black hair. He was probably the best-looking man Sabrina had ever seen, and her heart began to race. That was, until he opened his mouth again.

  "What is this? Heads are going to roll, Mr. Seven," the man fumed as he looked around.

  "Yes, sir," Mr. Seven answered.

  "I was told that this was taken care of last night. It's just lucky that I realize that everyone who works for me is an incompetent boob or we would never have known this was still out here until it was too late. My goodness, look at that rubbish sitting there in broad daylight. What do the Three think I pay them for? I can't have this nonsense going on right now. Doesn't everyone realize that the ball is tomorrow? Heads are going to roll, Mr. Seven."

  The little man nodded in agreement. His boss looked down at Sabrina and Daphne and scowled.

  "Look, the tourists are already here and they're leaving their filthy children unsupervised. They are children, right, Mr. Seven? Not just a couple more of your kind?"

  Mr. Seven's dunce cap had slid down over his eyes. He lifted it and gazed at the two girls. "They're children, sir."

  "The way they are dressed you would think they were circus folk. You worked in the circus for some time, didn't you Mr. Seven?"

  The little man nodded.

  "Why, there ought to be a law about unsupervised children. This is a crime scene and it's crawling with kids. Mr. Seven, let's make that a law, if that isn't too much trouble?" the man continued.

  "No trouble at all, sir," said Mr. Seven as he took a sp
iral-bound pad and a pen from his jacket pocket and furiously jotted down his boss's instructions.

  "See how easy it is to be a team player, Mr. Seven? I like your change of attitude. If you keep this up we might be able to get rid of that hat," the man said.

  "That would please me, sir."

  "Let's not rush things, Mr. Seven. After all, you still haven't given these children my card, which is incredibly frustrating, especially since we discussed this just last night. What did I tell you, man?"

  "Give everyone your card. It's good networking."

  "Indeed it is," the man replied, tapping his toe impatiently.

  "So sorry, Mr. Charming, sir," Mr. Seven said as he rushed to the girls and shoved a business card into each of their hands. It was purple with a golden crown on one side and the words MAYOR WILLIAM CHARMING—HERE TO LEAD YOU written on it in gold lettering. Underneath the name were a telephone number, an e-mail address, and a Web site: www.mayorcharming.com.

  "Now, what was I saying before I had to tell you how to do your job, Mr. Seven?"

  But before the little man could answer, Sabrina stepped forward. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was a bully.

  "You were saying there ought to be a law against unsupervised children," Sabrina said angrily. "There should be a law against talking to people like they are morons, too!"

  "Yes, that's correct. See, Seven, if this carnival girl can pay attention to the conversation, why can't you? Why, she can't be more than eight years old, and certainly slow in the head," Mayor Charming said.

  "I'm almost twelve," Sabrina shouted. "And I'm not slow!"

  Mayor Charming seemed startled by her anger.

  "Where are your parents, child?" he snapped.

  "We're here with our grandmother," Daphne answered. Sabrina spun around on her sister angrily. The old lunatic was not their grandmother.

  "How splendid for you," Mayor Charming sneered. "And who is your grandmother?"

  Daphne pointed to Mrs. Grimm, who was busy taking notes on a little pad of paper.

  "Relda Grimm is your grandmother?" the mayor growled between gritted teeth. "When will this cursed family die out? You're like a swarm of cockroaches!"

  Mrs. Grimm looked over, saw Mayor Charming, and quickly came to join them.

  "Relda Grimm, I just met your granddaughters," the mayor said, as his face changed from a scowl to a smile. "They're the spitting image of their grandfather."

  He bent over and pinched Daphne on the cheek. "Hopefully, they'll grow out of it," he muttered.

  "Mayor Charming, what brings you all the way out here? I thought you'd be busy planning the fund-raiser. It's in a couple of days, correct?" said Mrs. Grimm with a forced smile.

  "It is not a fund-raiser!" Charming insisted. "It's a ball! And it is tomorrow night. But you know how the community is. If I don't investigate every little stray cloud, the flock gets nervous. But then again, I could ask you the same question. What is the famous Relda Grimm doing in the middle of nowhere looking at a broken house?"

  He was right—it was a house that had fallen down. Sabrina saw pieces of furniture and clothing sticking out of the pile and an old afghan quilt swinging from a stick in the breeze.

  "I don't know what the farmer expected with such shoddy workmanship. He's lucky to have crawled out alive," he continued.

  "So there was a survivor?" Mrs. Grimm said, writing in her notebook.

  "Here she goes, Mr. Seven. You can almost see the wheels spinning in her head. Relda Grimm, private eye, out to solve the case that never was," the mayor said. "See, that's the problem with you Grimms. You could never quite grasp that in order to solve a mystery there must be a mystery to solve. A farmer built a flimsy house and it fell down. It was an accident. Case closed."

  "Then why did you call it a crime scene?" Sabrina piped up.

  Charming turned and gave her a look that could have burned a hole through her. "You must have misheard me, child," he said between gritted teeth. "Mr. Seven, take down this note, please. New law—children should not ask questions of their elders."

  As the little man scribbled furiously in his notebook, Mrs. Grimm said, "We both know why we're here, Mayor."

  Charming's face turned red. He tugged on his necktie and adjusted his collar. "This is none of your concern, Relda."

  Before the old woman could respond, Mr. Canis joined the group.

  "Well, if it isn't the big bad . . ."

  "Mayor Charming!" said Mrs. Grimm angrily.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, I heard you were going by Canis now." Charming grinned and leaned in close to Sabrina and Daphne. "Do yourselves a favor, girls, and check Granny's teeth before you give her a good-night kiss."

  "Do you think it wise to provoke me?" Mr. Canis said as he took a step toward the mayor. Despite Mr. Canis's quiet demeanor, the words seemed to unnerve Charming.

  "That's enough!" Mrs. Grimm demanded. Her voice shocked the girls, but the effect on the two grown men was even more startling. They backed away from each other like two schoolboys who had been scolded by a teacher.

  "The dog has found something," Mr. Canis said gruffly. He placed an enormous green leaf in Mrs. Grimm's hand and her eyes lit up in satisfaction.

  "Well, look at that, Mayor Charming, I think we've found a clue. There might be a mystery to solve here, yet," she said, waving the leaf in the mayor's angry face.

  "Congratulations! You found a leaf in the middle of all these trees," Charming scoffed. "I bet if you could bring out the forensics team you might find a twig, or even an acorn!"

  "It looks a lot like a leaf from a beanstalk," the old woman replied.

  Charming rolled his eyes. "That proves nothing."

  "Maybe, maybe not, but it does seem odd that a fresh green leaf is out here in late November," Mrs. Grimm said. Sabrina looked around at the trees. Every limb was bare.

  "Listen Relda, stop meddling in our affairs or you're going to regret it," said the mayor.

  "If you don't want me meddling, then you must really do a better job of covering up your mistakes." Mrs. Grimm placed the leaf inside her handbag.

  The mayor scoffed and then turned to Mr. Seven. "Get the door, you lumpy bag of foolishness!" he shouted. The little man nearly lost his paper hat as he rushed to the car door. Within moments, the limo was spitting gravel behind it as it drove away.

  "Girls, why don't we take a walk over to that hill and sit by the tractor? I'd like to see this site from above," Mrs. Grimm said. Daphne took the old woman's hand and helped her up a sloped embankment where a lonely tractor was parked. When they reached the top, the old woman plopped on the ground and caught her breath. "Thank you, liebling. Either the hills are getting steeper or Em getting older."

  "Who was that man?" Daphne asked.

  "Let's just say he's a royal pain," Mrs. Grimm replied. "Mr. Charming is the mayor of Ferryport Landing."

  "What's with the bad attitude?" Sabrina said. The mayor reminded her of the orphanage's lunch lady, who seemed to delight in telling the children they were getting fat.

  "He gets a little territorial sometimes."

  "He and Mr. Canis sure don't like each other," Daphne added.

  "They have a long history," the old woman said. She picked a small, black disk off the ground. "How interesting." She happily jotted down a note in her notebook. "A lens cap, from what looks like a very expensive video camera."

  "Maybe it's just junk or something the farmer lost," Daphne said.

  "Maybe, or maybe whoever is responsible for all that damage wanted a record." Mrs. Grimm tossed the lens cap into her handbag.

  Just then, a white van with the words ACTION 4 NEWS painted on the side pulled up. The doors swung open and a cameraman and a pretty reporter in a business suit jumped out. The reporter checked her hair in a compact mirror as the cameraman handed her a microphone. They eyed the pile of lumber and brick and then spotted the girls and the old woman sitting on the hill. In no time, they were standing before them.

  "
Hello ladies, I'm Wilma Faye from Action Four News," the reporter said as she shoved her microphone in Mrs. Grimms face. "We were wondering if you might be able to tell us what happened here."

  "Oh dear, am I on television?" the old woman asked.

  "You will be," the reporter replied. "Tell our audience what you witnessed."

  "Oh, we didn't see anything, I'm afraid," said Ms. Grimm. "We only just got here."

  The reporter groaned and the cameraman lowered his camera.

  "This is just great!" Wilma Faye complained. "Five years of journalism school, graduating with honors and at the top of my class, and I'm out here in Ferryport Landing, in the cold, covering a house that collapsed."

  "I'll get some shots of the damage," the cameraman said as he hoisted his heavy video camera back onto his shoulder and walked down the hill to the rubble.

  "Good idea," the reporter replied. "Let's get out of here as soon as possible."

  "Sorry I couldn't be of any help," said Mrs. Grimm.

  "Oh, it's not your fault. I just keep getting sent out to this town when there isn't any news."

  "Yes, unfortunately, there's not a lot of excitement in Ferryport Landing," the old woman agreed. Wilma Faye nodded and headed back to the van.

  When the news crew had left, Mrs. Grimm removed the large green leaf and an odd little box covered in knobs and lights from her handbag. She placed the leaf on the ground, then pushed a red button on top of the box and waved it over the leaf.

  "What are you doing?" Daphne asked.

  "I'm analyzing it. Very scientific stuff," the old woman said just as the machine let out a loud honking sound that could only be described as a fart. "Just as I thought, it's from a giant beanstalk."

  "There's no such thing as giant beanstalks." Daphne giggled.

  Mrs. Grimm pointed at the clearing below. "What do you see?"

  "A house that fell down?" the little girl suggested.

  "Yes, but what else? What is surrounding the house?"