Nick's Secret

By Claire H. Blatchford and Laurie Harden

In this exciting mystery, thirteen-year-old Nick and his faithful dog, Wags, are mixed up in a scheme even more exciting, and dangerous, than they have ever been in before. Daryl, a school bully, forces Nick to meet him at the creepy Tower Motel, a place that local legend says is haunted. On his way there, a snowstorm threatens, and a mysterious girl named Ionie warns Nick to stay away from the motel. Snowed in by the blizzard, Nick joins forces with Ionie and learns that she has a dangerous secret. Nick must keep Ionie's secret, or risk both their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lerner Publishing
• Release date: Aug 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781467732024

Book preview

loves!

Nick hadn’t seen her come into the pet shop, and that bugged him. Being deaf, he considered himself pretty quick at seeing things and keeping track of them. He thought he was aware of every customer who had walked into the store since he’d started work that morning—and the store was swarming with December twenty-first Christmas shoppers—but suddenly there she was.

She was a couple of inches taller than he, and wore jeans, a red turtleneck, and an oversized tweed jacket. No kid at school would be caught alive wearing a jacket like that. It looked like something an old woman would wear. What really struck Nick, though, were her hair and the expression on her face. Her wiry brown thicket of hair resembled steel wool. It looked ready to burst out of the confines of the elastic band at the nape of her neck. Her expression seemed distant, almost secretive. Since he had started working for Mrs. Firth five months earlier, Nick had noticed that most people who came in wore an open, blank look, even if they knew what they wanted to buy. This girl was different. She looked closed, aloof—almost unfriendly.

Who is she? Where’d she come from? Nick wondered as he ran a hand through his own curly red-blond hair. He decided she was fifteen or sixteen. Ninth or tenth grade. Nick himself had turned thirteen in September, shortly after starting seventh grade.

The girl was looking over the shelves with the various kinds of dog foods, leashes, collars, and other dog stuff. She picked up several items, fingered them thoughtfully, and put them back.

Nick started toward her to ask if she wanted help, but Mrs. Firth grabbed him by the arm. Her blue eyes were blazing. The bun of gray-white hair on top of her head was close to unraveling.

There’s a ton of rabbit pellets in the fifty gallon goldfish tank!

How— Nick started to say.

Clean it up! Mrs. Firth snapped. The fish will die if they eat it! I’ve got to be at the cash register.

Nick knew his boss had a temper, but he respected it. She really cared for her animals, every one of them, and she expected others to also. When they didn’t, she spoke up, even if it meant turning customers off or scaring them away.

Nick raced to the back of the store. The normally clear water in the largest tank was as thick as pea soup with disintegrating pellets. The twelve fish could barely move. They were large goldfish, from four to six inches long, raised specially for indoor and outdoor garden pools. They had sunk to the bottom of the tank, their fins flapping feebly, their mouths opening and shutting slowly in silent desperation.

A bunch of little kids gathered around the cloudy tank to watch. Some were pointing, others were imitating the fish and laughing.

What kind of a crazy joke was this?

Get back! Nick barked.

The kids shrank back as Nick grabbed a bowl and rushed to the sink.

Lugging the bowl to the tank, Nick put it on the floor and swung around in search of a fish net. He knew he could fit only one or two of the big fish in this bowl. He would have to get more bowls for the others. Later, if the fish survived, he would return them to the tank.

There were no nets in sight. Where were they? There were usually half a dozen on hand for use in the different tanks.

Nick reached for a brand new net, tore the plastic wrap off, and turned back to the tank. To his surprise, the girl in the tweed jacket was there.

She put a hand out for the net, and Nick noticed she wore two silver bands with snakelike patterns on her forefinger.

I’ll help. Her lips were easy to read.

Nick paused. Who was she? He found her steady gaze oddly unsettling.

This isn’t big enough for all of the fish, she said with a glance at the bowl Nick had brought. You’d better get some more.

Nick flushed. Of course it wasn’t big enough! He wasn’t that stupid! Who did she think she was anyway, bossing him around?

She took the net from him. Come on! HURRY!

The last word jolted him into action. There wasn’t time to argue or ask her who she was. The fish were suffocating. Every second was important.

The girl had transferred two fish to fresh water by the time Nick returned with another bowl. She clearly knew what she was doing.

When Nick finally lowered the sixth bowl onto the floor beside the others and straightened up, the girl wasn’t in sight. Nick turned around and around. Where was she? The net rested over the top of the tank, ready for him to finish the job.

Nick netted the last two fish, got a hose, and began suctioning the dirty water out of the huge tank. He was about to go up front to look for the girl and tell Mrs. Firth things were under control, when his heart almost skipped a beat. Was that a gray baseball cap bobbing around in the crowd near the cash register?

He squinted. Yes, it was gray with black lettering. He knew that cap a mile away. It belonged to a tall eighth grader from his school, Daryl Smythe. Nick had been avoiding the older boy for weeks.

Nick started to back into the hall that led to the rear entrance and the downstairs office where Wags, his mutt, stayed while Nick worked, but he wasn’t quick enough. Daryl had caught sight of him. A slick grin spread over the tall boy’s lips. Two girls and another guy stood behind him. Nick recognized the girls but not the guy. One of the girls was in his English class, the other rode on his bus. Neither of them had ever bothered to look at Nick in school, and here they were staring as if he was the only other human on the planet!

What now? Nick wondered, his hands clenched in fists.

Daryl’s grin broadened as Nick returned his stare. He motioned for Nick to come over to him.

What’s he want? I have to work!

Daryl motioned again.

Quickly and firmly, Nick shook his head once. He wasn’t going to be intimidated. He wasn’t going to be ordered about like a dog.

Daryl motioned yet again.

Nick pointed at the front door to say he’d meet him outside. If they were going to scuffle, he didn’t want the store getting messed up or the animals getting hurt. Daryl’s grin faded away. He whispered something to the other kids, and they fanned out behind him, all facing Nick.

Whoa! Nick stepped back against one of the tanks. Daryl clearly thought Nick was telling him to get out of the store. He looked ready to fight.

None of the customers seemed aware of what was going on. Mrs. Firth was at the other end of the store, out of sight. Nick pointed at himself and pointed at the front door to tell Daryl he would go outside, but Daryl didn’t get it. He was too angry to listen to Nick’s signs. His customary grin had been replaced by a sneer.

Nick’s knees felt weak. What would they do?

Nick didn’t wait to find out. He dropped down low to confuse Daryl, slid around the edge of the reptile tank, vaulted over a cage full of puppies, nearly collided with an elderly gentleman, and dashed down the back hall. Should he go out the rear entrance or lock himself in the downstairs office? The fact that Wags and his jacket were downstairs settled the matter.

Wags leaped up, her stringy brown tail bouncing back and forth in happy surprise, as Nick tumbled into the room. It reeked of sweet soapy scents. Esmeralda, a distant cousin of Mrs. Firth, ran a dog-and cat-grooming salon there from the end of April to the end of October. The rest of the time she took it easy in Florida.

Breathing hard, Nick slammed the door shut, turned the lock, and sank onto the plush swivel chair. Minutes passed. Wags licked his hand and leaned against him as if to protect him.

Someone banged on the door. Nick could hear it through his hearing aid and his feet, even though there was a thick carpet on the floor. He didn’t dare move. He was certain Daryl was right outside. His throat tightened. He’s really after me!

There was more banging.

Wags barked.

Shhh! Nick hissed.

Wags was immediately quiet. Her tail went down. Her eyes never left his face.

Nick stared at the telephone on the desk. The health food store where his mother worked was seven stores away. He wished he could call her, even though he couldn’t use a regular phone. Then he remembered she wasn’t there. She wasn’t at home either. She’d told him the night before that she and Peter were doing an errand that afternoon. When Nick had asked what kind of an errand, she had shrugged and given a mysterious smile.

What am I going to do if Daryl breaks in here? WHERE is Mum? This is the second Saturday she’s taken time off with Peter.

His rambling thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Wags’s perked ears. She was listening to something—something very close.

Seconds later a scrap of paper appeared under the door.

Wags sprang forward to sniff at it.

Nick picked it up. On it, in an unpleasantly familiar hand, he saw the words:

Be at the Tower Motel

tomorrow morning at 10.

Nick shivered. He didn’t like the idea at all. Until that fall, he had only known Daryl from a distance. The older boy was one of the obvious kids in junior high. You couldn’t miss seeing him even if you tried. Daryl’s swagger said, I’m cool, and he was a daring skateboarder who knew every slab of concrete in town. Nick hadn’t done much skateboarding but had sometimes admired Daryl’s twists, jumps, and turns. He had also noticed the four or five loud-looking kids who trailed Daryl. Nick, who had difficulty following group talk, kept to himself, and Daryl had paid no attention to him until recently. It had all