Shirley Holmes Creative : The Case of the Haunted House : HA

The Case of the Haunted House
A Shirley Holmes Fan Fiction

by HA
October 08, 2000 47,400 words

The Case of the Haunted House : Prologue

The sheriff looked at the spot where he was summoned in the middle of the night. It was an area on the edge of the forest located on the outskirts of town. Nothing moved except for some nearby owls in a tree; they hooted occasionally.

The sheriff grumbled and looked at his wristwatch. It was around three in the morning. He yawned and scratched his side. "Can't believe I'm up here at this hour," he said to himself. He thought how he would be still sleeping if he had not decided to answer the mysterious phone call. If he had not, he would have been fortunate to have Cindy Crawford as his dream wife.

The unidentified caller had an electronically disguised voice. At first, he wanted to hang up, conclude it was a prank, and return to the moment when the reverend was about to ask Cindy if she wanted him as her husband. Then, he heard the voice, the very familiar voice he thought he would never hear again.

The sheriff continued to stare into the forest. He was glad that he decided to wear his heavy jacket and gloves, for it was rather cold. He breathed a little and watched a puff of warm air form in front of him. The anonymous caller had told him to wait, and the sheriff was willing to wait. For two weeks, he had been waiting.

The sheriff heard someone coming behind him. He could tell by the breaking of dry twigs underfoot. He reached into his holster and grabbed his gun. He spun around, shouting "Freeze!" while pointing the gun at the newcomer.

"Hey, it's me, Abe!" the newcomer shouted.

Recognizing the voice, the sheriff reached for his flashlight and turned it

on to get a better look at the newcomer. The light beam revealed a familiar face. "Geez, Emmett, what are you doing out here at this time of night?" he asked.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, little brother," the other man replied.

"Someone called me a while ago. Woke me up from a pleasant dream," the sheriff explained. "Told me to come out her immediately."

Emmett looked at his brother. "Was the voice disguised?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I got the same call."

"Did you hear...?"

Emmett nodded. "I did. It's her."

"It definitely is," the sheriff said in agreement. "I recognized her

voice."

Emmett looked at the forest. "So we're supposed to wait here?"

The sheriff nodded. "That's what the voice said."

"So what are we looking for?"

The sheriff was about to answer when he heard movement from the forest. He turned his flashlight towards there to get a better look. Both men fixed their eyes at the source.

They watched as a procession of deer marched out of the forest. They came out in two lines and walked toward the men.

"What the...?" the sheriff said wide-eyed.

The two lines of deer stopped, then parted and formed a corridor. They

looked at the forest and nodded. Soon, a deer with something in its mouth walked out, leading a group of people through the corridor of deer.

The two men watched as the deer lead the people out, then stepped aside. The people walked towards the sheriff and Emmett. They noticed that some of them were wearing outdated clothing, usually ragged.

Emmett spotted a little girl in the small crowd of people. "Tiffany!" he cried out.

The girl saw Emmett and started running towards him. She ran into him and threw her arms around his waist. "Daddy!" she cried out happily.

Emmett bent down and hugged his daughter back. "Oh, honey, I missed you so much. I thought I'd lost you forever." Tears fell from his eyes, and for the first time in a week, they were of joy.

"I felt the same way about you, Daddy," Tiffany said.

The sheriff watched the happy reunion, then turned his attention to the other people. He recognized two boys. "Derek Havisham? Albie Tulone?"

The boys nodded. "I thought you two ran away after school. You've been missing for five weeks."

One of the boys shook his head. "Nope. The deer took us when we went for a walk in the forest after school."

"It's true," the other boy said.

"They did the same to us," a young man clad in a military jacket and bellbottoms said. "They got tired of us humans ruining the forest, so they started catching us on orders from the forest spirit. The spirit then put us into the trees to teach us a lesson."

The sheriff tried to take this all in. "Deer capturing people? Forest spirit putting people into trees?" He looked at the young man and wondered if he was a frequent pot smoker. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously.

"Eddie Wilcox," the young man answered.

The sheriff stared at the young man, knowing the name from local legend.

"B-but according to the town records, you disappeared in the forest thirty years ago."

"We were all captured by the deer over the years," a young woman said. "We were all kept in the trees. Only good thing about it is that we didn't age."

Emmett looked at the people, then at Tiffany. "Is this true?"

"Yeah, Daddy. The spirit said that people kept destroying nature, especially you and your plan to turn this forest into a shopping mall. If it wasn't for those kids, we'd still be stuck there."

Emmett looked at his daughter. "Kids? What kids?"

"The kids who made the spirit promise to never trap people in the trees

again, Daddy," Tiffany told her father.

Emmett looked at her brother. "Abe, those kids who were snooping around..." He was about to say more when he heard a ringing in his pants pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. "Hello?" he spoke into the phone.

"You found everyone, including your daughter?" an electronically disguised voice asked.

"I did," Emmett answered without hesitation.

"Good. We cut a deal. You sponsor a forest cleanup and stop the mall project, no more people will disappear. Got it?"

"Got it. Thanks for your help, whoever you are," Emmett said, sincerely thankful.

"Oh, tell your brother that all evidence of our presence has been eliminated. Don't bother telling anyone about us. Bye now."

Before Emmett could respond, the other person hung up on him. The deer that led the people out of the forest walked up to the sheriff. The sheriff noticed the little card in its mouth. The deer lifted its head and opened its mouth. The sheriff took out the card and looked at it, trying to figure out what it was.

Emmett, with Tiffany in tow, walked up to the sheriff. "Abe, what's wrong?"

The sheriff showed the card to his brother. It was a white card with the deer's teeth marks and saliva on it. On the card was a white head with a question mark covering its face wearing a white-banded black bowler and a black bowtie.

* * * * *

"Does he check out?" the police chief asked the arresting officer outside the interrogation room.

"Yes, ma'am," the officer, a relative newcomer to the force, replied. "He confessed everything."

Both looked through the one-way mirror at the young man in the interrogation room. He was wearing mainly blue denim. His blue jeans had holes in the knees.

"What did he say?" the police chief asked.

"He admitted that he and his friends kidnapped Carol Kersey, raped her, and then he shot her in the head as she was trying to escape," the officer reported.

The police chief watched the prisoner. He was trembling a little. He kept looking left to right rapidly.

"I guess Mr. Kersey will be happy when we tell him we found who killed his daughter," the officer said. "We haven't had a lead on this case until now."

The police chief nodded. "What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, he was pretty spooked when we found him. The person who called us told us that he would." The officer recalled what had happened hours ago. "He was sitting in the corner of that old abandoned building on Pine and Elm, curled up like a ball and shaking like crazy." He paused briefly as he looked at the prisoner. "Kept saying 'I did it. I killed her. I did it' over and over. He also kept babbling about Carol's ghost killing his friends."

"Looks like we'll need to get a shrink to check him out. See if he can stand trial." The police chief cupped her chin in her hand. "You said he was a gang leader?"

"That's right, Chief," the officer replied. "Until the members started dying on him."

"You mean these recent accidental deaths?"

"Yep. All the victims belonged to his gang."

"Looks like he got lucky."

"Not from where I'm standing, Chief."

Suddenly, the prisoner stood up, knocking his chair down. He backed into

the wall behind him, then started screaming. The police chief and the officer went for the door and burst in.

"What's going on here?" the police chief demanded.

His eyes wide open with fear, the prisoner trembled and pointed next to the policepersons. "She's over there! She's over there! She said she'd let me live if I confessed, but she's here! She's here to kill me!"

The police chief and the officer looked around. "What are you talking about? Who's going to kill you?"

"C-C-Carol Kersey," the prisoner managed to say. "She killed my friends, and now she's here to get me."

Both the police chief and the officer stared at the prisoner in disbelief. "Calm down, buddy. There's no one in here but us," the officer said, trying to reassure the prisoner.

The prisoner kept pointing next to the police chief and the office. "You can't see her? She's right there next to you! She's looking at me! She...she's waving?"

The prisoner kept staring past the police chief and the officer. He was gradually calming down with deep breaths. Finally, he said, "Oh, she was just waving goodbye. Kinda appropriate considering where I'm going."

* * * * *

After the prisoner was put in lockup, the police chief and the officer went to the chief's office.

"Talk about guilt," the police chief said. "It just built up, and poof!

He finally snapped."

"I take it you don't believe in ghosts?"

"No. Ghosts don't exist. Just figments created by frightened minds."

"Well, something happened to him. We looked around carefully, yet we found no sign that anyone else was there. No distinct footprints, no other clues."

"Doesn't mean that ghosts were involved."

The officer reached into his pocket. "Can you explain this then, Chief?"

He took out a small evidence bag and handed it to his superior. "I found this taped on him when we found him. No sign of fingerprints."

The police chief looked at the bag. In it was a card with a black-and-white drawing of a face with a question mark wearing a bowler and a bowtie.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part One

Shirley Holmes found herself walking around in total darkness. At first, she could not make out her surroundings. Thanks to the glow growing around her, she could make them out now. It was no different that it was without the light enveloping her; she was walking around in emptiness.

"You're not afraid of the dark," a soft monotone voice said in front of her.

Shirley looked ahead and saw the strange girl in the white long-sleeved blouse and checkered skirt. She had pale skin and light blue eyes that seemed to penetrate one's soul. The feature that caught Shirley's attentive eye the most was the girl's hair; it was silver and styled into pigtails. Standing behind her was a man dressed in black and white. Wearing a black bowler and black bowtie, the man's face was composed solely of a black question mark.

Shirley glared at the silver-haired girl and the question mark man. She could not hold back her frustration anymore. "You keep saying that! What are you talking about?"

"I mean what I say," the silver-haired girl answered. "You're not afraid of the dark."

Shirley found herself standing alone in an empty field with the silver-haired girl and the question mark man. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and birds were about chirping and flying without a care in the world. Shirley examined her attire. She was wearing a cape over her clothes and a deerstalker cap on her head. The glow was gone.

"Do you know what you've gotten yourself into?"

Shirley turned around to face the silver-haired girl. "What?"

The silver-haired girl repeated the question. "Do you know what you've gotten yourself into?"

"What do you mean?" Shirley asked.

"You're not afraid of the dark," the silver-haired girl stated, gazing at

Shirley. "But do you truly understand it?" She stepped closer to Shirley. "You may not be afraid of the dark now, but will that change after you understand it?"

"Nothing scares me," Shirley declared, meeting the gaze of the silver-haired girl.

"That is true," the silver-haired girl said with a nod. "You have managed to master your fears to a point. You still have fear, but you can control it."

Shirley stared at the silver-haired girl. "Who are you?"

"A friend." The silver-haired girl turned to leave. "It doesn't matter to

them whether or not you're afraid. They'll kill you if you aren't ready."

"Who are they?" Shirley demanded, but she knew the answer.

"You know who they are," the silver-haired girl said. "The problem is, they know who you are."

"What are you talking about?" Shirley asked. "Who are you? Who are you?"

"Farewell, Shirley. We will meet sooner than you think." The silver-haired girl and the question mark man walked away. "Watch out for that snake at your feet. Its bite is venomous."

Shirley looked down and saw a golden snake with three spikes on its back. She jumped back in time to avoid getting bitten by its long fangs. The snake hissed at her for a while, then slithered off.

Shirley looked around for the silver-haired girl and her companion, but they were gone. "Who are you?" she shouted. "Who are you?"

* * * * *

"Who are you? Who are you? Who are you...?"

"Shirley? Shirley?"

Shirley shot her head out of bed to face her mother, Dr. Joanna Holmes.

She blinked her eyes. "Mom?" She looked at the foot of her bed and saw Watson, her pet basset hound, still sleeping. She looked at herself; instead of the garb of her famous ancestor, she was wearing her pajamas.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. You've got school today, remember?"

Shirley looked at her alarm clock. Her mother was right; school would

start in about twenty-five minutes. She realized that she missed the paperboy again. She knew that downstairs, her father was enjoying an intact newspaper for the fifth time this week. Once again, she would have to do her clipping later if she could get the newspaper.

"Well, you'd better get ready. I'll drop you off at school on my way to work." After returning to Redington from Rwanda, Dr. Holmes was hired by the Redington Infectious Diseases Laboratory. Being a virologist, Dr. Holmes was well-suited for the job. After being separated from her daughter for years, Dr. Holmes was glad to be able to do anything normal with Shirley, like dropping her off at school.

Shirley rubbed her eyes. "Mom, I'll be fine. I'll ride my bike to school."

"Shirley, you've nearly been late to school for the past few days," Dr. Holmes pointed out. "You've also been nearly falling asleep in some of your classes. You really should stop being on-line late at night."

"Mom, I did," Shirley said, getting out of bed. She had stopped the late night cybersurfing because what she was looking for was not available on the Net.

"Shirley, is something bothering you?" Dr. Holmes asked with concern.

For a moment, Shirley wanted to tell her mother about her dreams and the

silver-haired girl, but she dismissed the notion. She felt that her mother would not understand; after all, her friends did not understand what her dream meant after she told them.

"No, Mom," Shirley lied, forcing a smile. "I'm okay. Really."

"Well, then, you'd better get ready quickly. I'll wait for you downstairs,

honey." Dr. Holmes left the room so that Shirley could get ready for school.

Shirley stretched her arms, wondering why she kept having these dreams of the silver-haired girl. As she got ready to take a quick shower, she noted all the constant elements in her dreams: being dressed like Sherlock Holmes, walking in total darkness, glowing in the dark, an empty green field on a beautiful sunny day, golden snakes with spiked backs, a man with a question mark for a face, and most importantly, the silver-haired girl.

"Watson, what do you think it all means?" Shirley asked her pet dog.

Watson just laid on the bed without making a sound. Shirley shook her head

with an amused smile and dashed off to the bathroom.

* * * * *

In another house in Redington, a girl woke up. After yawning and stretching, she made her bed, then went to the closet to get her clothes. When they were laid on the bed, she grabbed a bathrobe and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. She was going out in about a half-hour, and she was in a hurry. She returned to her room wearing the bathrobe and a towel was wrapped around her head. She sat down at her desk and looked into the mirror, focusing on her own blue eyes.

"It begins," she said softly without any emotion.

With that, she removed the towel from her head, releasing her long silver hair and letting it fall to her shoulders.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part Two

"Save the Harrison house! Save the Harrison house!" Bart James shouted as he waved the fliers in his hand. "Rally at the old Harrison house! Help the Redington Paranormal Society save a genuine haunted house!"

Unfortunately for Bart, no one else on the Sussex Academy lawn was heeding him. It was lunchtime and everyone was eating, talking to friends, or both. Some students did stare at the budding paranormalist, but they eventually whispered to their friends how weird he was and returned to their lunch.

Bo Sawchuk watched everything from his table. "Poor Bart," he remarked, shaking his head.

"Why's that?" Blake Hewitt asked. "Because he's pursuing a lost cause or because he actually believes in ghosts?"

"Both, actually," Bo answered as he watched Bart try to hand a flyer to a girl. The girl just stared at Bart and passed him without a second glance.

"Still persisting in this supernatural silliness, Mr. James?"

Bart turned around to face Mr. Howie, the history teacher at Sussex

Academy. "Mr. Howie, that house is haunted by the spirit of someone who was murdered there," the budding scientist stated.

Mr. Howie placed his hands on his hips. "Mr. James, although someone was killed in that house, it does not mean that there is a ghost roaming its halls."

"The Redington Paranormal Society has proof that there is a ghost at the Harrison House." Bart shoved a flier in Mr. Howie's face. "See? That photo was taken a year ago by someone who actually spent the night there."

The history teacher looked at the picture, which showed nothing but a blob of some kind. "Mr. James, a blurry picture does not prove anything to me." Mr. Howie sighed, rolling his eyes. "You are one of the brightest students at this institution, Mr. James. Why you pursue such nonsense is a mystery to me." With that, the exasperated teacher left Bart.

As Mr. Howie left, Parker walked up to Bart. "Uh, Bart, we aren't making any headway," he said, showing Bart some fliers.

"I can't believe that people can be so apathetic about a haunted house," Bart said, frustrated.

"Bart, that's the least of your worries," Parker said.

"What are you talking about?"

Parker steadied his nerves before telling his friend the bad news. "Well,

some of the other members of the Science Club are thinking about voting you out."

Bart was surprised at this piece of news. "As president?"

"As a member." Parker sighed. "Bart, they haven't been thrilled about

your interest in the supernatural and paranormal."

"That hasn't been a problem in the past," Bart recalled.

"Well, now that all the science-related clubs are merged to cut back on

costs, you have more opposition from the 'serious' science guys. They've really been trying to influence everyone else," Parker informed his friend. "Word is they plan to vote you out at the next meeting, and believe me, there's a significant number of them."

Bart sighed as he and Parker walked towards the table where Bo and Blake were sitting. "Great. Now I'm facing public apathy and a mutiny."

Blake saw how downcast Bart was. "Man, poor guy. This whole rejection thing has really got him down."

"I'm sorry to say this, but he asked for it," Alicia Gianelli said.

"That's what he gets for believing in all this weird stuff."

"You know, I remember how some of that weird stuff happened to you," Bo said to Alicia. "Didn't you say on TV once how some creature nibbled on your toes in the shower and made a humming noise?"

Alicia rolled her eyes and turned to the girl beside her. "Shirley, what do you think of all this?"

Shirley did not respond immediately. She was propping her head up with her arm and was in deep thought. Her eyes stared blankly ahead.

Bo rose from his seat and snapped his fingers in front of Shirley's face.

"Hello? Shirley? Earth to Shirley Holmes."

Bo's snapping brought Shirley back to reality. "Huh?" she said, dazed a little.

"Shirley, are you all right?" Blake asked.

"You've been zoning out all day," Bo pointed out.

"Sorry. It's just these dreams I've been having," Shirley explained.

"You mean the ones with some girl?" Alicia asked.

"Silver-haired girl," Blake clarified.

"Those would be the ones," Shirley acknowledged.

Bo sighed. "Shirley, didn't you stop staying up late on the computer?"

"I did, Bo, but I keep having these dreams," Shirley said. "They're all

different, but they share some elements."

"Like the silver-haired girl," Blake said.

"And a guy with a question mark for a face," Bo recalled.

"And me walking in darkness and a grassy field during a sunny day," Shirley

added. "Let's not forget the golden snakes with spikes on their back."

"Shirley, that's the only thing I understand," Bo said. "The golden snake with spikes is the symbol of..."

"The ENIGMA organization," Blake said quietly, knowing how the group had affected his life. Thanks to them, his father had to go into hiding after they tried to kill him.

"ENIGMA?" Alicia looked around the table. "Isn't it that group of mercenaries Blake's dad helped find?"

"That's them," Blake said, knowing who was the real hero, or rather, heroine.

Bart and Parker joined the group, with Bart joining the boys while Parker sat by Alicia. "Hey, guys," Bart greeted. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, we're just psychoanalyzing Shirley's dreams," Bo said half-jokingly.

"You mean you're still having them?" Bart asked Shirley.

"I'm afraid so," Shirley answered.

"You know..." Bart began.

Bo groaned. "Bart, if you're going to say what you're going to say..."

Bart ignored Bo and continued. "It could be a ghost communicating with

you."

"In her dreams, Bart?" Blake asked, trying to swallow the young researcher's hypothesis.

"Well, it's either that or a psychic," Bart said.

"A psychic? Like one of those people who advertise on TV claiming that

they can read your palm?" Alicia looked at Bart disbelievingly. "Give me a break, Bart."

"Okay, you explain why the same stuff keeps showing up in Shirley's dreams," Bart responded hotly. "It's uncommon for someone to keep having the same dream. Ghost or psychic. Take your pick."

Alicia glared at Bart, then noticed that Parker was watching closely.

"Parker, what do you want?" she asked.

Parker held out a flier. "Uh, want to go to the haunted house rally? I'll be there," he asked nervously.

Alicia smiled sweetly, trying not to explode in rage at the red-haired boy. "Parker, like I've already told you in the hallway this morning and in class, I have work around that time."

"Oh." Parker withdrew the flier.

Bo resisted the urge to laugh and Blake shook his head. Like some of the

other students, they noticed how Parker was trying to get himself and Alicia together. For some unknown reason, Parker became enamored recently with the fashion-conscious Alicia. His efforts to court her were usually laughable. Bo looked at Shirley, who exchanged a knowing look with him.

"Bart, you seem upset," Shirley said after looking over the young genius.

Bart sighed. "Parker tells me that some members of the Science Club wants

to vote me out as a member because of my beliefs in the supernatural and paranormal."

"Man, that's cold," Blake remarked. "And after you managed to get more funding for them."

"Yeah." Bart stood up. "Well, I'm going to keep trying to get people to come to the rally. Parker, you wanna help out?"

Parker was staring at Alicia affectionately. "Huh?" he said, snapping out of his trance-like state.

"Never mind," Bart said before he left the table.

"There goes a man with a mission," Blake remarked. "Gotta admit that he's

got guts to stand up for what he believes."

"But why the weird stuff?" Bo wondered.

"Why not?" Shirley said. "We all have our interests, Bo."

They watched as Bart continued to call to people to attend the haunted

house rally. He waved the fliers in the air, trying to get attention to his cause. He spotted some kids in the distance and shouted to them. Seeing that he was being ignored, Bart ran towards them. Unfortunately, he ran into someone, and both fell to the ground. His fliers flew out of his hand and fell all over the place.

"Hoo boy," Bo remarked as he got off his feet. Shirley and Blake followed him to where Bart and the other person were. As they ran towards them, they saw a small group heading for the same location. Leading the way at a distance was a tall, dark-haired woman in a uniform. She was literally dashing up towards the two people on the ground.

Shirley noticed a familiar face in the group. "Ms. Stratmann?"

All of them were now where Bart and the other person was. Bart was

apologizing to the other person, who happened to be a girl. She had brown hair done in a ponytail and was wearing a scarf over her neck. Seeing that she was about her age, Shirley saw that she was not wearing the Sussex Academy uniform.

The woman in the uniform knelt at the girl's side. "Miss Knight, are you all right?" she asked her, glaring at Bart. "Did this young man hurt you?"

The girl shook everything off as she was helped off her feet. "I'm fine, Bernadette. Really," she assured the uniformed woman.

Bo helped Bart to his feet while Blake started picking up the scattered fliers. "You okay, Bart?" Shirley asked with concern.

"I'm fine," Bart said. He turned his attention to the girl he knocked down. "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry. I'm fine," the girl said. She looked at the ground. "Has anyone seen my glasses?"

The uniformed woman searched the ground and picked up a pair of glasses.

"I found them, Miss Knight," she declared, handing them to the girl.

"Thanks, Bernadette," the girl said, putting on her glasses and adjusting them on her nose. Shirley saw that the girl's glasses resembled goggles. "Sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention where I was going," the girl apologized.

"No, no, it was my fault entirely," Bart apologized as Blake handed him his fliers. "I wasn't looking where I was running."

The rest of the group caught up and Ms. Stratmann faced Bart. "Mr. James, what is the meaning of this? Explain yourself."

The uniformed woman glared at Bart. "You heard your headmistress, boy! Explain yourself!" she bellowed to him. She glared at the crowd of students starting to form around the little group. "What are you all looking at?" she demanded loudly. The students responded by walking or running away and relegating themselves to watching from afar.

While Bart stuttered out an explanation, a dark-haired man in a business suit spoke. "Don't worry about it, young man. It was an accident. It was no one's fault." As the man spoke, Shirley noticed the white hairs in his hair, especially around the temples.

The uniformed woman stood at attention. "If you say so, Mr. Knight."

Ms. Stratmann's demeanor also changed. "Well, since you think so, Mr.

Knight. Still, I feel that I should apologize..."

"Please don't, Ms. Stratmann," the man said. "You don't have to. It's not really necessary."

A woman walked up besides the man. "Since no one's hurt, I'm sure we can drop all these possible lawsuits," she said with a grin.

The man looked at Shirley and her friends. "Well, here's an opportunity to talk with some Sussex Academy students, Ms. Stratmann. Guess I won't have to interrupt a class after all," he said cheerfully. "I think introductions are in order."

"These students are Bart James, Shirley Holmes, Boris Sawchuk, and Blake Hewitt," Ms. Stratmann said, motioning to each of the kids. Bo winced as he heard his full middle name.

The man nodded. The woman elbowed the man playfully in his side. "Nathan, don't be rude. Introduce us."

The man laughed and motioned to the girl. "The young lady Bart ran into is my daughter, Lucy." He motioned to the woman besides him. "This charming and wonderful woman is my wife, Regan, and I'm Nathan Knight."

"Hi," Lucy said cheerfully with a wave.

Blake stared at Mr. Knight. "Knight? As in head of the Knight

Foundation?"

"The one and the same," Mr. Knight said with a grin, then he motioned to the uniformed woman. "This is Mrs. Bernadette LeMarche, my chief of security. As you can probably tell, she's too good at her job," he remarked with a light-hearted chuckle.

Mrs. LeMarche stood at attention without making a sound. If she found Mr.

Knight's joke funny, it did not show on her stern face.

"Nathan," Mrs. Knight said, pointing to a girl behind her.

Mr. Knight slapped his head. "Oh, I'm so forgetful...this young lady

behind me is Katrina Mansfield. She's one of Lucy's cousins."

Katrina stepped out from behind Mrs. Knight. Immediately, Shirley and her friends gasped. Their eyes widened and their jaws nearly fell in amazement.

Standing before them was the silver-haired girl from Shirley's dreams.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part Three

Shirley could not believe her eyes. It was like Katrina just stepped out of her dreams. She was wearing the same clothing: a long-sleeved white blouse and a checkered skirt. Her silver hair was tied into large pigtails. Her skin was deathly pale. Her light blue eyes, although half-open, seemed to be seeing through Shirley.

Mr. Knight noticed the stares of Shirley and her friends. "Well, this reminds me of how you reacted when you saw Katrina for the first time, Ms. Stratmann."

Ms. Stratmann started to stutter. "Um, well, Mr. Knight..."

"Don't worry about it," Mr. Knight said reassuringly. "Katrina has that

effect on people. They get used to it after a while."

"I don't get out much," Katrina said, her voice not betraying any sign of emotion.

"Got that right," Bo mumbled, catching a glare from Ms. Stratmann.

Shirley regained her composure and looked over Katrina, then at the three

Knights. She noted that Lucy and her parents shared some physical features, but Katrina did not share anything in common with the Knights, unless there were members of the Knight family that had silver hair.

"I'm a distant cousin of the Knights," Katrina said, fixing her gaze on Shirley.

Shirley was stunned. She had tried to be as inconspicuous with her observing as possible. "What...?"

"She's from the former Soviet Union," Lucy explained. "The Ukraine."

"Really? My parents are from there, and I have relatives living there," Bo

said.

"This is hair dye," Katrina said, pointing to her hair.

"It sure is," Lucy said, smiling.

"Oh," Shirley said, stunned again. "It looks very realistic," she

commented, still suspicious. For some reason, she found that hard to swallow that Katrina's hair was dyed and that she was from the Ukraine. She did not detect any sign of accent.

"I lost my accent," Katrina told Shirley, who was stunned again.

"So, what brings the head of the Knight Foundation and his family to Sussex

Academy?" Blake asked Mr. Knight curiously.

"I've been hearing a lot about how Sussex Academy's been having financial problems now and then," Mr. Knight started to explain. "I faxed Ms. Stratmann yesterday to set up a tour of the campus so that I could assess the situation."

"What have you found out so far?" Bart asked.

"That this place is in need of major repairs," Lucy said before her father

could speak. "Also, the computer equipment could use some upgrading." When her mother shot her a look, Lucy grinned sheepishly and said, "Sorry."

"I'm happy to report that the teachers are competent and the material they teach is more than adequate, however," Mrs. Knight added.

"So it's all a matter of updating and renovating," Mr. Knight concluded.

"Do you agree?" he asked.

"When you think about it, the computers around here could use upgrading," Blake remarked. "Maybe some of your recent models?"

"You know of our computer line?" Mr. Knight asked the young computer expert.

"I do, but my mom owns a calculator manufactured by the Knight Foundation," Blake explained. "I also know that the Knight Foundation makes hi-tech stuff like computers."

"Not to mention medical equipment, medicines, fertilizers, and eyeglasses," Lucy added proudly, pointing to her eyeglasses. "Plus other things."

"Well, those, too," Mr. Knight said humbly.

"To be honest, this place can use some fixing up," Bo said, looking around.

"How long has this place been around? The Middle Ages?"

Ms. Stratmann and Mrs. LeMarche glared at Bo, but lightened up when they saw Mr. Knight laughing. The sight of the head of the Knight Foundation laughing surprised Shirley and her friends. "Ah, this is a relief," he commented, looking at Bo. "The other school I visited last week was so dull. The students there had no sense of humor. They were all work and no play. Brilliant, but boring."

"So if you decide to donate some money, will we be fixing up the place so that it looks modern?" Bo asked.

"Oh, no," Mrs. Knight answered. "The money will be used to renovate, not change completely the school. Repairs would be made, but we wouldn't dream of changing anything that makes Sussex Academy so distinct."

Katrina fixed her gaze on Bo. "You're not like the other students," she observed. "You're not rich."

Bo's eyes widened. "How...?"

"Mr. Sawchuk is here on a special scholarship," Ms. Stratmann explained.

"He was a juvenile delinquent heading for reform school until the judge sent him here."

"Is this true?" Mr. Knight asked Bo.

"It is," Bo said with a little hesitation.

"And have you done well?" the businessman asked.

"I have, sir," Bo answered.

"Well then..." Mr. Knight turned to his wife, and they started to talk in

private. Mrs. LeMarche marched over to them and stood behind them as they discussed over something. Ms. Stratmann looked concerned as she watched the Knights talk in low tones. She tried to lean in to listen, but the imposing figure of Mrs. LeMarche stopped her. Lucy and Katrina were left to talk with Shirley and the others.

Lucy's scarf caught Bart's attention. "Nice scarf, but isn't it a little warm to wear one?" he inquired.

"It's a family heirloom," Lucy answered quickly, which Shirley noted.

"Actually, I consider it a part of me. I like to wear it wherever I go."

"Really?" Shirley took a closer look at Lucy's scarf. "It looks rather ordinary."

"It's got sentimental value," Lucy said.

"What about your glasses?" Blake asked. "They look more like safety

goggles than eyeglasses."

"They're a combination of both, really," Lucy explained. "They're designed to be durable like safety goggles, yet able to compensate for poor eyesight. This model is one of our most popular. In fact, this is the prototype I'm wearing."

"How do you know?" Bart asked.

"I was there when these glasses were made," Lucy replied. "In fact, I

designed them."

"You seem to know a lot about your parents' business, not to mention you have a little involvement in it," Shirley said to Lucy.

"Oh, I help them out now and then when they ask me," Lucy said. "I have a lot of free time."

"Why's that?" Blake asked.

"I'm sort of a prodigy," Lucy explained. "In fact, I graduated from the

University of Redington a while back with a major in computer sciences."

Bo let out a long whistle. "That's very impressive."

Bart looked at Katrina, who kept silent while the others talked. "What

about you?"

"I'm home-schooled at a normal pace," the silver-haired girl answered.

"I wonder why," Bo muttered to himself, paying close attention to Katrina's

hair. He quickly turned away when Katrina fixed her gaze on him.

"Funny. Something like that should have appeared in the newspaper," Shirley said. "A child prodigy graduating from a university would make an excellent story."

"Well, the graduation was reported as a standard graduation," Lucy said. "I was just another graduate. Same thing happened when I graduated from high school. It was Dad's idea not to put the media spotlight on me."

"Your father seems to do that with himself, especially with a recent wrestling event held for the Maple Street orphanage," Shirley said matter-of-factly. "I'm a little surprised that he doesn't publicize his charity work much."

"Dad's very modest about his philanthropy," Lucy said, not acting the least bit surprised by Shirley's comment. "He feels that doing something good is a reward in itself. The only time the newspaper knows about his charity work is when someone leaks it out or when he actually does a press release, although he downplays it when he does that."

"Gee, that sounds familiar," Bo whispered to Shirley. "Except for the press release."

"Oh yeah, I really need to thank you, Shirley," Lucy said.

Shirley looked puzzled. "For what?"

"For helping out with the wrestling show," Lucy replied like it was common

knowledge. "Not to mention helping catch that saboteur."

"Of course, you were not working alone," Katrina said, looking at Bo and Blake.

"Huh?" Bo said, knowing that only he and Blake knew about Shirley's detective work.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shirley said.

"Um, maybe you should be thanking the police," Blake said.

"But who helped the police?" Katrina said calmly, staring at Shirley and

her friends.

Bart looked at his friends. "Guys, what are they talking about?"

Before Bart could get an answer, the Knights finished their private

discussion and returned their attention to the others. Ms. Stratmann looked especially nervous.

"Well, Bo here helped make our decision," Mrs. Knight said.

"I did?" Bo said, noticing how Ms. Stratmann was glaring at him. He had

the feeling that he had cost Sussex Academy the much needed financial aid of the Knight Foundation.

"You did," Mrs. Knight answered. "After some discussion, my husband and I have decided not to donate the amount we were considering, Ms. Stratmann."

Ms. Stratmann's jaw nearly fell upon hearing this piece of news. The poor woman looked like she could have a heart attack at any moment.

"Instead, we are doubling the amount and throwing in new computers, chemistry sets, and calculators," Mr. Knight announced. "Everything will be our latest models, of course."

"We feel that a school that can help turn around a young man like Bo deserves our help," Mrs. Knight explained.

Ms. Stratmann breathed a sigh of relief. The danger of having a heart attack was gone.

"Wait a second," Bart said suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

Shirley looked at Mr. Knight, expecting an answer. Bart had given voice to

the question she had in mind.

Ms. Stratmann stared at Bart. "Mr. James..."

"Catch?" Mrs. Knight looked perplexed. "Whatever do you mean?"

Bart cleared his throat. "Well, you're offering to renovate Sussex Academy

and donate brand new equipment, but you're not asking for anything in return."

"Your point being, young man?" Mr. Knight asked.

"So these days, you don't get anything for free," Bart remarked. "So what

does the school have to do in order to get these freebies? Do we have to eliminate a subject like math?"

"Mr. James!" Ms. Stratmann exclaimed. She turned to the Knights. "I must apologize for Mr. James' behavior. He is one of our brightest students, but he is also one of the most unstructured. He keeps asking questions and persists in believing in nonsense like ghosts and aliens."

"Is this true?" Mrs. Knight asked Bart.

"Yes, and I'm proud of it," Bart said.

Mr. Knight thought for a moment. Everyone else assumed that he was

rethinking his generosity. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to triple the money we'll be donating to Sussex Academy, won't we, dear?" he said, looking at his wife and smiling.

"Indeed," Mrs. Knight said, nodding in agreement.

"What?" Ms. Stratmann exclaimed in surprise.

"Well, if a school can produce free-thinking students like Bart here, then

it must be doing something right," Mr. Knight explained. "Too many students are taught to think based on what others say, not how they feel." He looked at Bart with admiration. "There are limits, of course, like not causing harm to others, but I don't think a belief in the supernatural and paranormal is really harmful to others if possessed by a rational person. In this case, Bart is a rational person."

"I'm beginning to really like this guy," Bo whispered to Shirley and Blake.

"Although I have to disagree with Bart being rational."

Shirley ignored Bo's remarks and looked at Mr. Knight with suspicion.

"You still haven't answered my question," Bart said.

"Yes," Ms. Stratmann said. "Although I cannot excuse Mr. James' rudeness,

he has brought up a good point. What exactly must we do in order to get your help? I am not prepared to sacrifice anything for money, no matter what, especially any part of the curriculum."

Mr. Knight laughed lightheartedly. "Well, Bart, Ms. Stratmann, you've got me. There is something Sussex Academy can do for me in exchange for our financial assistance."

Bart looked at the others with a "I told you so" face. "Which is?" he asked Mr. Knight.

"Darling, why don't you tell them?" Mr. Knight asked his wife. "I think it's more appropriate if you do."

Mrs. Knight nodded. "Well, in exchange for our financial assistance, we must insist..."

"On selling out to a big company and allowing its propaganda to spread throughout its curriculum," Bart completed hotly.

Mrs. Knight did not look unfazed. "On accepting the Knight Foundation Scholarship Program."

Bart blinked. He was not expecting that answer. "The what?"

"The Knight Foundation Scholarship Program," Mr. Knight said. "Since my

wife created it, I'll let her explain."

Mrs. Knight cleared her throat and explained everything. "The Knight Foundation Scholarship Program is essentially an independent study program that encourages free-thinking. Those who are accepted into the program participate in field trips within and without Canada and do various learning activities related to their destination and any relevant school subjects. These activities range from simple papers to show-and-tell individual or group projects, which will count as credit for regular classes. Participants will be excused from normal classes to be on these trips. Participants are also guaranteed money after they graduate from high school in order to further their education or pursue their goals."

"So you get credit for your classes while you get out of them?" Bo said.

"Cool."

"Knight Foundation Scholars also get to experience other cultures in other countries firsthand," Mrs. Knight said. "They get to meet students from other countries and some long distance friendships have been formed as a result."

"Who evaluates these activities?" Shirley asked curiously.

"Teachers that will be appointed by the head of the school and approved by

me," Mrs. Knight answered. "Or in some cases, my daughter. She's an excellent judge of character."

"Mom." Lucy looked down and blushed.

"Will the teachers be accompanying the students on these field trips?" Ms.

Stratmann asked.

"If their schedules allow it," Mrs. Knight replied. "We do have tutors who handle the supervision of the students, so you have nothing to worry about. The parents or guardians are free to come along, if they wish."

"Are participants selected or do they apply?" Bart asked.

"They have to apply," Mrs. Knight answered.

"So what qualifications are you looking for in the applicants?" Blake

asked. "Do they have to be smart?"

"I'll let Lucy and Katrina answer anything else on the subject," Mrs. Knight said with a smile. "They know what we look for in Knight Foundation Scholars. They just happen to be members."

"Wait a sec." Bo looked at Lucy and Katrina. "She graduated from a university and she's home-schooled. How can they be Knight Foundation Scholars?"

"I was a Knight Foundation Scholar in high school. Once a Knight Foundation Scholar, always a Knight Foundation Scholar," Lucy replied with a grin. "I serve as an assistant tutor when I'm available and I help out any newcomers to the program."

"Okay, but how is she a Knight Foundation Scholar when she doesn't even attend school?" Bo asked, pointing to Katrina.

"Oh, the Knight Foundation Scholarship Program isn't limited to people who attend school. Any kid at the junior high and senior high levels can be a participant in the program," Lucy answered. "Public or private, institutional or home-schooled, rich or poor, it doesn't matter. As long as the kids fit the qualifications, they can join."

"And what are the qualifications?" Shirley asked.

"To put it simply, you have to be able to think on your own and be willing

to work hard and to do good," Lucy answered seriously. "Intelligence and economic status means little in whether or not you become a Knight Foundation Scholar. Sure, you can be smart and it does help, but brains alone aren't the sole criteria for consideration. We look for kids who are civic-minded and who are sincere about it."

"Looks like Molly wouldn't be accepted," Bo whispered to Shirley and Blake.

As if on cue, Molly Hardy approached the group. "Ms. Stratmann, I need to

talk to you about something of the utmost importance," the blonde addressed the headmistress, waving a piece of paper.

Ms. Stratmann smiled at her favorite pupil. "Molly, I'm very busy right now," she said, waving to the Knights. "I've been giving Mr. Knight and his family a tour of the campus. I'm surprised that you didn't join us."

"I've been attending my classes, Ms. Stratmann," Molly answered.

Ms. Stratmann turned to Mr. Knight. "Mr. Knight, I'd like for you to meet

the student council president and Sussex Academy's star pupil, Molly Hardy.

Molly, this is Mr. Knight of the Knight Foundation and his family. Mr. Knight is being generous enough to donate some of his money and equipment to help the school."

"Gag me with a shovel," Bo whispered to Shirley and Blake. Of all the students at Sussex Academy, only these three knew that Molly was a manipulating schemer who would do anything to get her way.

"Without her help, I wouldn't know what to do," Ms. Stratmann said.

Mr. Knight looked at Molly Hardy. "Excuse me, but you are the student

council president?"

"That is correct, Mr. Knight," Molly answered politely.

"Oh dear," Mr. Knight said, turning to Ms. Stratmann. "Did you read the

fax closely?"

"Of course, Mr. Knight. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known about your visit today," Ms. Stratmann answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, the fax also said that I wanted to meet you and the student who was the elected president of the student body or any other student leader," Mr. Knight explained.

"What?" Molly looked like she was ready to explode, but she calmed down.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Knight, but your fax didn't mention that. If it had, Molly

would have joined us instead of attending her classes," Ms. Stratmann said regretfully.

Mr. Knight thought for a moment. "Hmmmmmm...maybe I forgot to put it in my fax. I have a bad habit of forgetting things."

Lucy shot a conspiratorial look and a grin to Katrina, who showed no reaction except for a slight nod. This did not escape Shirley's watchful eye.

Mr. Knight checked the time on his watch. "Well, this was shorter than expected. Ms. Stratmann, do let me know if you want to accept our generous offer and I must say that it has been a pleasure in your company," he said, shaking the headmistress' hand.

"Likewise, Mr. Knight," Ms. Stratmann responded.

"It has been definitely been an honor to meet these fine young people," Mr.

Knight said, shaking Bart's hand, then Shirley's, and then Bo's and Blake's.

"You do this old institution proud."

"You're leaving so soon?" Molly asked.

"Well, I have another school to visit, but if Ms. Stratmann has any

questions about anything, I'll be happy to remain longer. I'd be going to the other school early anyway," Mr. Knight said.

"I do have some questions to clarify some things, especially about the Knight Foundation Scholarship program," Ms. Stratmann said. "I think Molly has her own suggestions."

"Really? Well, fire away, young lady," Mr. Knight said.

Mr. and Mrs. Knight, Ms. Stratmann, and Molly began talking about the

Knight Foundation's donation to Sussex Academy. As they talked, Bo started back for the lunch area. "Let's get going. We've got about fifteen minutes of lunch left."

"Besides, I think Alicia won't forgive us for leaving her with Parker," Bart said with a wry smile.

Blake laughed, and the boys started back to their table. As he left, Blake saw that Shirley was not leaving. "Shirley, aren't you coming?" he asked.

Shirley eyed Lucy and Katrina. Ever since she met them, her curiosity was piqued. She was astonished at how Lucy knew about her involvement in the wrestling show. She turned to Blake. "Go ahead. I'll be with you shortly."

Blake nodded and joined the others, leaving Shirley to focus on Lucy and Katrina, who were talking. She listened carefully to what they were saying.

"I must use the bathroom," Katrina said.

"Go ahead. I'll get you when we're about to leave," Lucy said.

Katrina nodded and left the group for the school building. Lucy got closer

to her parents, the grateful Ms. Stratmann, and Molly. Mrs. LeMarche watched the group closely. Shirley followed Katrina carefully to the school building, making sure the silver-haired girl did not see her.

Entering the school building, Shirley saw Katrina head for the nearest girls' bathroom. After waiting for a minute, she walked in, expecting to find Katrina. Instead, an empty bathroom greeted her. She started looking under the stalls for a pair of feet. Finding nothing, she headed for the door.

"Looking for me?"

Shirley turned around and found Katrina standing behind her.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part Four

Shirley stared at Katrina, who seemed to appear behind her out of thin air.

"How did you...?"

"You have many questions," Katrina stated to the junior detective.

"You're correct on that," Shirley answered. "For starters, who are you?"

"I am Katrina Mansfield, a distant cousin of Lucy Knight," Katrina answered

robotically. "That is what who I am. Shall I tell you who you are?"

"I'm the one who's asking the questions," Shirley said, nearly losing her characteristic cool. "Who are you?"

Katrina went on without acknowledging Shirley's questioning. "You are Shirley Holmes, great-grandniece of the famous detective, Sherlock Holmes, who was real, yet thanks to embellishments of his actual cases by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, is perceived as a fictional literary character. Your main goal in life is to solve mysteries and become a great detective like your famous ancestor. You are responsible for solving many of this city's crimes, yet you claim no credit for your deeds. Your taste in clothes is unique and you own a number of hats. You also possess a taste in unique foods, especially peanut butter and blue cheese sandwiches."

Shirley was left speechless. How did she know all that? she wondered to herself.

"Until recently, your mother, Dr. Joanna Holmes, a virologist, was missing in Rwanda and presumed dead. You were obsessed with her disappearance for three or four years. Now she lives with you along with your father, Robert, a diplomat with the British embassy, and your grandmother, Peggy, whom you call affectionately 'Gran.' Peggy is very active for her age and practices tai-chi. You have a basset hound named Watson, whom you feel is lazy yet lovable."

All Shirley could do in response to this outpouring of data was stare wide-eyed at Katrina.

"Do you wish to hear more?" Katrina asked. "I can, but some of it is personal, especially your desires and fears."

"You know everything about me?" Shirley asked, hiding her anxiety.

Katrina nodded. "You are a strong girl despite your fears, Shirley."

"Why is that?" Shirley wondered.

"You're not afraid of the dark," Katrina answered.

"What?" Shirley said, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"

"While other people run away or hide in the dark, you run into the dark and

shine your light on it," Katrina said.

"Huh?" Shirley said, confused.

"You solve mysteries, right?"

Shirley turned around and saw Lucy standing behind her. "Let's make this

quick. I think Molly noticed me leaving and she might be coming here at any moment," Lucy said. "Well, you solve mysteries, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shirley said, still determined to deny the fact she was a detective.

Lucy looked amused. "You know, we know everything about you, so lying isn't going to help you," she said nicely, yet firmly.

Shirley realized that she could not fool these two girls, so she decided to play along. "Okay, so I do solve mysteries like my great-granduncle Sherlock. What does that have to do with not being afraid of the dark?"

"Well, you like to solve mysteries, no matter how much danger there is," Lucy explained. "You persist in your cases until you find the solution. That's like shining a flashlight on a dark corner, don't you think?"

"Of course, the dark has other meanings," Katrina said. "I'm confident you'll figure it all out."

Shirley grasped Lucy's visual metaphor. "I understand that, but how did Katrina get into my dreams?" she asked, looking back at the silver-haired girl.

"What did your friend Bart say?" Katrina asked.

Shirley was surprised, but she answered Katrina anyway without any

hesitation. "He said that either you were a ghost or a psychic."

"As you can see, Katrina's not a ghost, so that leaves one choice," Lucy said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Despite the improbability, keep in mind your own great-granduncle's words: 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'"

Shirley recalled those words by her famous ancestor. "That still doesn't answer who you two are and how you know so much about me."

Lucy looked out the door. "That'll be for another time. Your minor Moriarty is about to enter the building." She closed the door. "Perhaps if you, Bo, and Blake come to the Harrison house rally, we can talk further."

"The Harrison house rally? The one Bart is trying to get people to attend?" Shirley asked.

"The one and the same. We'll be there with some friends. Maybe after the rally, we can talk," Lucy recommended. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Wait, I have one question," Shirley said. "Did you tamper with your father's fax to Ms. Stratmann?"

"Well, I do like to practice my computer skills now and then," Lucy revealed, grinning mischievously. "Considering what Molly really deserves for what she's done to people, making her miss an opportunity to get out of class seems minuscule."

"You know what she is?" Shirley asked.

"Yep. Certified sociopath, with nonattentive parents probably the cause,"

Lucy said, backing away from the door. "And don't worry, I'll make sure her 'recommendations' aren't mentioned when my dad gets the donation ready. At least, not the selfish ones."

"She is the least of your worries now," Katrina said. "There is another threat to deal with, and it is even more dangerous than Molly's manipulations. Unlike her, it deserves no pity."

"What? Who?" Shirley asked, but she had a good idea what Katrina was referring to.

"You know," Katrina answered.

Shirley was about to tell Katrina what she thought in order to get a

confirmation when Molly entered the bathroom. "Lucy, your parents told me to tell you that it's time to go."

"Well, got to go. We'll see you later, Shirley," Lucy said, flashing the amateur sleuth a smile as she left the bathroom.

As she started for the door, Katrina looked at Molly. "You are weak," she told the blonde sociopath.

Molly glared at Katrina. "What are you talking about?"

Katrina stood before the door. "You are weak," she repeated without

looking at Molly's face.

"Why would you say a thing like that?" Molly demanded angrily.

"Because you're afraid of the dark," Katrina answered calmly.

Katrina exited the bathroom, leaving Molly confused and Shirley with more

questions.

* * * * *

"They know about you?" Blake asked Shirley, astonished.

Shirley and her two sleuthing partners were in the Holmes family's attic,

which served as Shirley's crime laboratory. After calling Bo and Blake over, she had explained to them what happened to her in the girls' bathroom. After she had returned to them at their lunch table, she did not bring up the subject. Instead, she thought about what happened.

"It appears so," Shirley said. "They know about me and my mysteries."

"But how?" Bo asked.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Shirley answered.

"Well, one thing's for sure," Bo said, walking around the room and stopping

by the portrait of Sherlock Holmes. "We definitely need to find out who Lucy and Katrina are. Especially Katrina. That girl gives me the creeps."

"We do know that they're connected with the Knight Foundation," Blake noted.

"So what do we know about the Knight Foundation?" Bo asked.

"They manufacture a lot of products, especially hi-tech stuff," Shirley

said. "Like medical equipment, medicine, and fertilizer."

"I've got some info on Nathan and Regan Knight," Blake said, taking out some papers from his pants pocket. He read some items to his friends. "Nathan was born in Vancouver, but was raised in Redington, and Regan was born in Chicago. Both came from well-to-do families. They met in Denver while Nathan was on a skiing trip. Regan nursed him after he broke his leg, and they started writing each other letters and making visits. They finally married in New York City. Nathan believes that people should help each other, either by contributing money to charitable causes or by giving time to charitable organizations. Regan believes strongly in improving education around the world so that children will actually learn and enjoy themselves at the same time. In their spare time, they like to play golf and tennis. Both are members of various civic organizations. Besides Lucy, they have a college-aged daughter named Brooke. Nathan has a younger brother, Nick, who is an ex-cop and works with the Knight Foundation Scholarship as a tutor."

"Nice work, Blake," Shirley said with admiration.

"Yeah. How'd you learn all that?" Bo asked. "Did you hack your way into

their personal computer or something?"

"Actually, no," Blake said, shaking his head and smiling. "I went to the company's official web site and printed out their profiles." He handed the papers to Shirley and Bo. "I also printed out more stuff and had some copies made."

Shirley skimmed through the papers. "Nothing bad about them here, but it did come from its official web site. According to all this, the Knight Foundation was started about ten years ago and started off by manufacturing operation software for computers."

"I also learned a few things about the Knight Foundation Scholarship program," Blake told the others. "For starters, it's primarily a Canada-based education program, but branches in the US, Japan, Britain, Germany, Russia, and Australia are being tried out right now. They've been successful so far, so there are plans to expand the program even further. Among the possible candidates are Ireland, Turkey, the Philippines, Egypt, and Israel."

Shirley spotted something. "The Knight Foundation Scholarship program is relatively new, with it being started about four years ago while its branches were started about a year later. Interesting."

"Here's something on that security chief of Mr. Knight's. Seems she used to be in the Canadian military. That explains a lot." Bo noticed the company logo, a white knight chess piece facing left inside a black circle. "The company logo is appropriate."

Blake studied the logo. "Definitely symbolic."

"How so?" Bo asked.

"The knight piece is white, symbolizing good. It is facing left, and

'left' is usually associated with 'liberal' and 'change,'" Blake interpreted. "The black circle symbolizes a world shrouded in darkness which the company shines its light upon."

"Okay," Bo said, fighting the urge to say that was the most farfetched thing that he ever heard.

Shirley nodded. "That's a good interpretation, but here's another, albeit negative, one. The knight is facing left or behind it, but progress is perceived by some as looking forward, or to the right. Also, 'sinister' is Latin for 'left.'"

"Hmmmm...two possible meanings to this logo," Blake said. "Personally, I'm hoping for my interpretation."

"Considering Mr. Knight's character, the first interpretation is more likely the correct one, but only further analysis of the company will confirm it," Shirley concluded.

"You know, it could just be what it is, a horse in a black circle," Bo said. "Maybe whoever came up with this logo didn't mean for it to have any meaning."

"You could be right, Bo," Shirley said. "Right now, it's a minute point compared to other things on my mind."

"Such as?" Bo wondered.

"Such as the intentions of Lucy Knight and her cousin," Shirley answered.

"They have an interest in me, and I want to know why."

"Maybe they're aliens," Bo said jokingly, who got stares from Shirley and Blake. "What?"

"Considering what's been happening to me, any explanation will work," Shirley admitted.

"Hold on. We are not becoming Bart," Bo said, waving his hands in the air.

"I did call him before you guys came," Shirley revealed.

"Why?" Blake asked.

"For two reasons," Shirley said. "The first reason was to find out about

if there was such a thing as psychics being able to project their image in dreams and manipulate them."

"And Bart said 'yes'?" Bo guessed.

"He said that there is some documentation of psychic activity including

that. He also mentioned telepathy, pyrokinetic ability, and ESP again," Shirley said.

"So what was the second reason why you called Bart?" Blake asked.

"To tell him that we are going to the haunted house rally tomorrow,"

Shirley replied.

"What? Excuse me?" Bo said, surprised. "You volunteered us to picket an old house with ghost fanatics?"

"I believe they prefer to be called 'supernatural researchers,'" Blake said with a grin.

"Whatever." Bo stared at Shirley. "Why are we going?"

"Lucy sort of invited us there," Shirley answered. "It's our opportunity

to get some answers from her."

"Well, we definitely need some answers," Bo said.

"At this point, I think we have some," Shirley said.

"Explain," Blake said.

"The dreams I've been having thanks to Katrina may have some answers,"

Shirley explained. "What she told me helped me put together some of the pieces."

"And?" Bo said curiously.

"We know that Katrina is a real person, for starters. We also know that

the golden snake represents the ENIGMA organization."

"Okay," Bo said. "So?"

"So I keep encountering that snake before or after my little walk through

the darkness," Shirley said. "Katrina keeps asking me if I know what I've gotten myself into."

"So what does it mean?" Blake asked.

"I think I've got it," Bo declared. "It means Shirley's in big trouble

with ENIGMA."

"Exactly," Shirley said. "Katrina's been trying to warn me about ENIGMA.

It is a shadowy organization with a lot of power."

"Actually, I think that dummy we encountered last time kinda hinted at that," Bo pointed out. "You know, the whole 'I'll deal with you later' warning."

"They haven't come to Redington for a while," Blake noted. "Maybe they've given up or just forgot about Shirley."

"I don't think so," Shirley said. "Katrina seemed serious. In my dreams, she keeps telling me I'm not afraid of the dark. Today, she told me I'm strong because of that."

"Well, you don't let anything stand in the way when you're on a case," Blake said. "I don't think a criminal organization like ENIGMA is an exception to that."

"Got to agree on that one," Bo said. "You just don't know when to accept the word 'no' into your vocabulary, even when your life's at stake."

Shirley started to pace around the room. "But why warn me about them? Why not warn someone who's officially affiliated with law enforcement?" She thought for a moment. "From what Katrina's been telling me, I think there's something more to ENIGMA."

"While we're on the subject, what about the guy with the question mark for a face who keeps hanging out with her in your dreams?" Bo said. "What's the deal with him?"

"Shirley!" Gran's voice from below interrupted Shirley before she could answer Bo. "Can you come down for a moment, dear?"

"You guys wait here. I'll be right back." Shirley came down from the attic and found Gran holding a small box wrapped in brown packing paper. "This came for you a while ago, Shirley," Gran said, handing the package to Shirley. "A nice young man in a uniform delivered it a minute ago."

"Thanks, Gran," Shirley said. She opened the secret bookcase and darted up the stairs back to the attic.

"Well, what did she want?" Bo asked.

Shirley showed her friends the package. "What do you see?"

"A small box wrapped in brown paper with your address written on it," Bo

said.

Blake looked at the corner of the box. "No postage."

"Exactly," Shirley said, starting to unwrap the box. "It was sent locally

via a privately-owned delivery service."

"Shirley, should we be opening it?" Bo asked, concerned. "What if it's a bomb?"

Shirley held the box to her ear. "I don't hear a timer or any ticking. Besides, if it were a bomb, it would've exploded with all the shaking I'm doing to it and we'd all be dead."

"What a comforting thought," Bo said with a moan.

Shirley went to her table and removed the wrapping paper, revealing a

little white box. Bo and Blake watched as Shirley removed the lid and revealed something tiny and metallic.

"What the...?" Blake said as Shirley removed the object from the box.

Shirley held the object to her face, then showed it to the others. "It's a

toy dragon," she said, looking it over. The toy dragon had a snake-like body with four long-clawed feet and a long-snouted head with sharp teeth, horns, and hair.

"It's a Chinese dragon," Blake observed after getting a closer look.

"Indeed," Shirley said, examining it. "There's a switch on the back," she

said, and she pressed the back.

The dragon immediately roared, its eyes flashing red, and one of its front claws slashed the young detective's hand. "Ow!" Shirley cried out, dropping the toy dragon to the table.

Bo was immediately at his best friend's side. "Are you okay?" he asked with concerning, checking Shirley's hand.

"I'm fine," Shirley assured him. "It was just a minor scratch."

Bo looked at the cut the claw had caused. "We should clean it quick," he

told her. He started to look around the attic for something to clean and dress the cut with.

Blake shushed them. "Uh, guys, the dragon's making a sound."

Everyone was silent as the dragon on the table spoke. "The exchange of

something old for something new in Hades despite the end of A.N.," it said in an electronic voice. "The exchange of something old for something new in Hades despite the end of A.N."

All three looked at each other as the dragon repeated itself.

"ENIGMA," Shirley said, sounding very serious.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part Five

After school and going home to change out of their school uniforms, Shirley, Bo and Blake rode their bikes to the Harrison house, which was located on the outskirts of Redington. When they arrived, they found a number of people surrounding the house carrying picket signs like "SAVE THE HARRISON HOUSE" and "SPARE THE GHOST." On the other side of the road, men hired to demolish the house watched the protesters with short tempers. Behind them was their van, which held a crate of dynamite in the back. Curious onlookers joined them, wondering what was going on and occasionally snickered at the protesters. A TV news crew was present and was setting up. The field reporter waited for everything to be set up. The house itself was an old Victorian mansion, and it had seen better days. The house was in need of a good paint job and the roof needed a good patching. Along with its gloomy gray color and the surrounding sickly trees, the Harrison house seemed like it could be haunted.

"Nice place," Bo quipped as he and the others parked their bikes in a designated area where the protesters parked their cars, vans, and bikes.

"Yeah, it's rather cheerful," Blake commented.

Shirley studied the protesters and found that they were mostly adults. She

could see a few kids, though. "Where could Bart be? He said he would meet us here."

"Right behind you." Bart and Parker appeared behind Shirley, Bo, and Blake. "Look who we bumped into," Bart said, pointing to a girl with them. Shirley recognized her as Lucy Knight, and she was wearing her goggle-like glasses and scarf.

"Why, Shirley, what a coincidence," Lucy said, acting surprised. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Yeah, right," Bo whispered to Blake.

"I'm glad you came, you guys," Bart said enthusiastically. "Every extra

person helps."

"Yeah, since practically no one from our school bothered to come," Parker said negatively.

"I wouldn't say that," Bart said, pointing to the group of onlookers on the other side of the road. "I recognize some kids from our school."

"Yeah, but they've been jeering us," Parker pointed out.

"Bart, can you and Parker rejoin the protesters? I'll be there in a

moment," Lucy requested.

"Sure thing. Come on, Parker." The two boys left and rejoined the protesters, who were shouting "Save the Harrison house! Save the Harrison house!"

"So, you've heard about what happened at the police station this morning?"

Lucy asked the young detective.

"Yes, I have," Shirley answered. "A toy dragon was delivered to the police station. When someone opened it, it said a riddle."

"The exchange of something old for something new in Hades despite the end of A.N.," Lucy said from the top of her head.

"Exactly," Shirley said with a nod.

"The policeman who pressed the switch on the dragon's back got scratched on

his hand." Lucy saw the bandage on Shirley's hand. "I deduce that the same thing happened to you."

"I'll live," Shirley remarked. "They haven't solved the riddle yet?"

"Nope," Lucy replied. "You?"

"Still working on it," Shirley said.

"I've heard that the police really miss your dad right now," Lucy told

Blake.

"Yeah, well, the head honchos at Interpol are still keeping him to devise a way to take care of ENIGMA," Blake said. Shirley could not help but notice a little sadness or disappointment in Blake's voice.

"Say, where's the weird cousin of yours?" Bo asked Lucy, looking around.

Lucy caught the remark, but did not show any sign of being offended.

"She's with the protesters right now. She's somewhere in the back." She pointed out a silver-haired head among the back section of protesters.

"Okay, Lucy, you're the one who called us here," Shirley reminded the teen-age genius. "What do you want?"

"Right now, I'd like for you guys to help us out," Lucy said, pointing to the group of protesters. "Most of the Redington Paranormal Society's out here, plus some volunteers."

"Hold on, I'm not going over there and holding a sign that says 'SPARE THE GHOST,'" Bo declared. "Especially with a TV reporter and possibly some of the guys from Sussex Academy on the scene."

"Don't worry. Just keep to the back," Lucy reassured Bo. "Besides, we don't want to destroy Shirley's anonymity," she remarked with a grin and a wink before walking back to the crowd.

"When in Rome," Blake said with a shrug. He followed Lucy and started shouting "Save the Harrison house! Save the Harrison house!" while raising his fist into the air.

"Save the Harrison house! Save the Harrison house!" the protesters shouted.

Bo stared at the protesters and groaned, then followed Blake into the back of the crowd. Shirley smiled to herself, then joined her friends in protesting the proposed demolition of the Harrison house.

A bespectacled woman with a megaphone stood in front of the crowd of protesters. "Okay, people, what do we want?" she shouted into the megaphone.

"The Harrison house and its ghost to be left alone!" the crowd responded. Bo did not even bother to say anything and groaned. Bart was very enthusiastic.

"What don't we need?" the woman asked the crowd.

"Guys with dynamite!" the crowd roared back.

"You know, if there is a ghost, I don't think he'll be happy about this

noise," Bo whispered to Shirley.

"It's a she, actually," Katrina told Bo.

"Okay," Bo said, trying his hardest not to stare at the silver-haired girl.

"How long has this been going on?" Shirley asked Bart as the woman

continued to pump up the crowd with the megaphone.

"I think it's been an hour," Bart guessed.

"Funny, I feel like it's been two," Parker admitted.

"So what brings you here?" Shirley asked Lucy.

"Oh, it's a good cause, and like Dad, I'm attracted to them," Lucy said.

"These people want to turn this house into a city landmark."

"Because it's allegedly haunted?" Shirley asked.

"Bingo," Bart said.

The reporter was interviewing the woman with the megaphone, who was

explaining why the people there were protesting the upcoming demolition of the Harrison house. Her curiosity piqued, Shirley moved up closer to the front in order to listen better. She made sure to stay out of view of the cameraman. Bart joined her at her right, and they listened in.

"We can't just blow up this house," the woman said. "It's still someone's home."

"You mean the ghost," the reporter said, trying to maintain his professionalism.

"Exactly," the woman responded. "We have no right to destroy someone else's home, whether or not the person is alive or not."

"So besides blocking the men assigned to the house's demolition, what else are you doing to save it?" the reporter asked.

"Some members of the Redington Paranormal Society have gone to City Hall to present a petition supporting the preservation of the Harrison house as a city landmark to the mayor and the city council," the woman answered. "We should be getting the results of that meeting soon."

"All you people are crazy!" Shirley spotted one of the men from the other side of the road lumbering towards the woman and the reporter. He was in a T-shirt and jeans and wore a construction helmet on his head. "This is just an old house, and no one, living or dead, is in there!"

"How do you know that? Have you ever been in there?" the woman questioned the man.

"No! Have you?" the man fired back. The reporter stepped back, but he kept his microphone in front of him to capture the argument. The cameraman also stepped back, but he kept rolling.

"Actually, no, but we've got reports of people saying that they saw the ghost while staying in the house overnight," the woman replied.

"Oh really?" The man was not convinced. "Were they nuts like you or were they just drunk? Ah, forget drunk. I've been drunk and I never thought I saw a ghost." He looked at the protesters. "Don't you people have lives or something? Go home and let me and my men do our job!"

"You mean blow up this house so that Mr. Maxson can build another mall out here?" the woman questioned. "Redington already has a mall. Why build a mall out here?"

"Well, you can't have too many malls, now can you, Miss Spook Supporter?" the man retorted, looking down at the woman. "People love malls, and Mr. Maxson guarantees that this one will have a lot of shops for people to spend their money in."

"Oh, of course! It's all about money!" the woman said in exasperation.

"Sure, let's blow up the ghost's home so that your boss can make a profit!"

"For the last time, there's no stinking ghost!" the man shouted furiously at the woman. "Now why don't you go home, put on an apron, and go clean the house and make dinner like a good woman should?"

"Hey!" someone shouted. Shirley saw a girl her age walk out of the group of protesters towards the arguing adults. She had short brown hair and wore glasses. Her jean jacket was too large for her; the sleeves had to be folded back more so that her hands could stick out, and even then, they barely peaked out.

"What the...?" Bart wondered.

Bo moved from the back and joined Shirley. He had glimpsed what was going

on from the back. He saw the girl take a firm stand in front of the man, who towered over her. "Is she crazy?"

"Sometimes the brave are considered crazy," Katrina commented, appearing behind Bo.

Blake, Parker, and Lucy joined them. "What's going on?" Blake asked.

"That girl's confronting that man over there," Shirley answered, pointing

to the front.

"Whoa!" Parker exclaimed. "That guy's huge!"

Lucy spotted the woman and the girl. "Great," she muttered. She exchanged

a look with Katrina.

"You know her?" Shirley asked.

Lucy nodded silently and turned her attention to the girl, who glared at

the man. "You can't talk to her like that, you lumbering Neanderthal!" she shouted.

The woman looked at the girl with concern. "Susan, get back. I can handle this."

The man looked down at the girl. "What are you going to do about it, pipsqueak?" he taunted, putting his hands on his hips.

The girl snarled at the man, revealing her braces. The man saw this and laughed. "Hey, guys!" he shouted to the other men across the road. "This little girl's gonna bite me!"

The other men laughed loudly. "So, Metalmouth, what're you going to do?" the man taunted further.

Bart watched with admiration as the girl stood her ground. "You're nothing but a big bully!" she declared.

"Oh, go take a seat!" the man shouted.

Shirley and Bart watched as the man pushed the girl to the ground. She

landed on her back hard.

"Hey, you can't do that!" the woman shouted.

"Sure I can." The man shoved the woman down next to the girl. "See, I

did." He laughed loudly. The reporter started towards the woman and the girl to help them, but the man raised his fist, which made the reporter rethink his next action and he resumed being impartial.

Bart was furious. "He can't do that..."

Before Shirley could stop him, Bart darted out of the crowd and was soon at

the side of the fallen girl, who was trying to get up. An Asian boy also darted out to help.

"Oh, great, another four-eyed brat," the man remarked meanly as he looked at Bart.

Bart looked at the girl, who was trying to sit up. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

The Asian boy joined Bart at the girl's side. "Yeah, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm a bit shaken up and my butt hurts a little, but I'm fine," the

girl replied.

Bart took the girl's hand and helped her to her feet. The girl looked into his eyes and smiled. Bart found himself smiling back. She was not a ravishing beauty, but Bart found himself strangely attracted to her. His hand started squeezing her hand, and he felt her squeezing back. For a moment, they said nothing.

Shirley and the others watched this from their position. "Hmmmmmm..." The junior detective studied Bart and the girl closely.

Bo realized what was going on between the two. "You go, Bart," he said with a grin.

"Whoa," Parker remarked.

Blake just smiled. Lucy and Katrina showed no reaction on their faces.

"Um, you know," the girl said finally, blushing. "I think my mom could use

our help getting back up."

"Besides, there's a big man with muscles standing right there," the Asian boy whispered in Bart's ear while pointing to the man.

Bart snapped out of his trance. "Oh, oh, right."

"Awwwwwwww, look. A hero," the man said mockingly as Bart, the girl, and

the Asian boy helped the woman up.

"Better stay with your mom," the Asian boy told the girl. The girl nodded and took her mother away.

Bart faced the man who was the aggressor. It was clear that he was at a disadvantage against the mountain of muscle, but he showed no sign of fear. "Yeah, whatever." Bart looked angrily at the man. "What right do you have to shove innocent women around?"

"This right!" the man declared, flexing his right arm to show off his muscles. "My boss wants that building blasted today, and I'm not letting a bunch of ghost-lovers stand in my way." He faced down Bart. "Now get out of my way, kid."

"No." Bart stood his ground.

The Asian boy stood beside Bart. "Same with me."

The man snarled. "Fine by me, kid," he said as he started to advance on

Bart.

Bo and Blake were about to rush in to help Bart when Lucy held out her arm to block their way. "Hey, what are you doing?" Bo demanded.

"Don't worry about it," Lucy assured them. "Everything's under control."

"What are you talking about?" Blake asked, puzzled. "He'll get stomped!"

"You got that right," Parker said, almost panicking.

"Be patient," Katrina told them. "Your friend is brave," she remarked to

Shirley.

"Well, Bart always stood up for what he believed in, no matter what," Shirley said.

"And now he's going to get killed for it," Bo remarked dryly. "I'm not going to stand here while it happens."

"Me neither," Blake said, ready for action.

Shirley looked at Lucy, who shook her head. "Someone's got to do

something," Shirley said.

"Don't worry, Shirley. This one's on us," Lucy said.

Shirley and her friends watched as the man advanced on Bart and the Asian

boy. It seemed that the man was going to tear them apart. Meanwhile, the reporter and the cameraman kept themselves at a safe distance, filming everything.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part Six

Shirley and her friends watched as the man advanced on Bart and the Asian boy. Shirley noticed that no one among the protesters was charging to their rescue. Apparently the mountain of muscle heading in their direction intimidated them, not to mention his friends across the street, who could overpower them at any moment.

"Nice knowing you," the Asian boy whispered to Bart.

"You are a weak coward if you wish to hurt innocent children," a calm,

emotionless voice addressed the man from behind.

The man turned around and saw a tall boy behind him. "What the...?" he muttered to himself.

Everyone present--the reporter, the cameraman, the onlookers, the demolition crew, the protesters, and Shirley and her friends--stared at the newcomer. His skin was deathly pale and his hair was black and spiked up. He wore a long black coat with a purple inner lining, black gloves, black pants, and black sneakers. The only piece of clothing that was not black was his T-shirt, which was crimson red, and the goggles he wore around his forehead, which were black framed and had red lenses.

"Who's that?" Bo wondered.

"Beats me, Bo," Blake said.

Shirley turned to Lucy and Katrina, who showed no surprise on their part.

"You know him," she said knowingly.

Lucy smiled. "Don't worry. You'll meet him later."

Bart stared at the boy in black. "Huh?"

"Don't worry, we're saved," the Asian boy said. "I feel sorry for the

other guy, though."

"Why's that?" Bart asked.

The Asian boy smiled. "You'll see."

"Huh?" the cameraman said, puzzled. "Who's that kid?"

"Never mind. Just keep rolling," the reporter ordered.

The man snickered at the sight of this strange youth. "Great, it's Kid

Dracula." He faced the boy in black. "So, I'm weak, huh? I'll show you!"

He charged the boy with his right arm bent back, ready for a punch.

The boy calmly and quickly stepped aside of the man's charge and he pressed two fingers on the man's arm as he passed him. Everyone watched as the man screamed in pain as his right arm hung limply. "My arm! I can't move my arm!" the man shouted. He glared at the boy in black, who smiled coldly. "What did you do to it, you freak?"

"Pressure points," Blake said.

"What?" Parker said, not knowing what Blake meant.

"That kid found a pressure point that incapacitated the man's arm when it

was touched. He can't move it now," Blake explained.

"Well, that big bozo's still got one good arm left," Bo said.

Frustrated, the man charged the boy in black and threw a punch with his

left arm. The boy dodged the punch and pressed his fingers against a pressure point on the man's left arm. The man cried out in pain, with both his arms rendered useless.

"Not only are you weak, but you are an idiot," the boy commented. "You never learn from your mistakes."

The protesters were silent. The onlookers whispered among themselves, curious on who this stranger was. Shirley was the most curious.

The man snarled and looked at the other members of the demolition crew. "Hey, get over here and get this guy!" Immediately, five muscular men ran across the road and were soon surrounding the boy in black.

"Great, he's dead," Parker remarked.

Blake grinned. "You never saw a Bruce Lee movie before, have you, Parker?"

"News flash, Blake. That's not Bruce Lee," Bo said. "In fact, who is this

guy?"

Shirley kept silent on the matter and watched as the boy in black studied the five men surrounding him. "Five against one? Hmph, more cowards. You have to attack in large numbers to take me on," the boy commented, his tone apparently cold, yet not worried.

"Get him!" the leader shouted.

One man charged the boy from behind, hoping to grab him. Without looking,

the boy swung a gloved fist into his would-be attacker's face, knocking him to the ground senseless.

"Ouch," Parker remarked.

The remaining four men were petrified. "Oh my God, he knocked down Kenny

with one hit!" one man exclaimed.

"Whoa," Bo whispered.

"Very impressive," Shirley commented.

The boy in black faced the remaining men. "Who is next?"

The men looked at each other. "Well, what are you waiting for?" their

leader demanded, still unable to move his arms. "Get him!"

Two of the men went to the side of their fallen comrade. "No way, Carl," one of the men said. "We didn't sign up to get our butts kicked by some guy in black."

"He's just one kid!" the leader shouted.

"And look what that one kid did to you and Kenny," another man said, trying

to revive the fallen man by slapping him in the face.

The boy in black shook his head. "Pathetic."

At that moment, a cell phone rang in someone's pocket. It happened to

belong to the woman with the megaphone. She got it out and turned it on.

"Hello?" she asked.

As the woman talked with the person on the other line, everyone's attention was still on the boy in black and the demolition crew. The cameraman had recorded everything that had happened while the reporter commentated on the action. Now both men were watching quietly for who was going to make the next move.

The woman finished talking on her cell phone and she hung up. Putting away the cell phone, she spoke into the megaphone. "Hey, people, listen up!"

Everyone gave their attention to the woman. The cameraman turned his focus from the boy in black to the woman. "The city council's granted a reprieve to the Harrison house until tomorrow, where we'll get to present our case before it!"

The reporter rushed up to the woman. "Is this true?" he asked her.

"It is," the woman replied with a big smile.

This piece of news was met with loud cheering and applause from the

protesters. The onlookers were amazed. The demolition crew was not exactly thrilled.

"I believe you gentlemen are not welcome here," the boy in black told the crew leader.

The leader snarled. "Just you wait. We'll be back. Mr. Maxson's got clout on the city council. This house'll be nothing but bricks when we're done with it."

Now conscious, the man called Kenny was helped up by his co-workers. "What happened?" he asked, still dazed.

"We're leaving, Kenny," the leader said angrily. "But don't worry. Mr.

Maxson's got everything covered."

The boy in black walked up to Bart and the Asian boy. "Are you two all right?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," Bart said, staring at the stranger.

"We're cool," the Asian boy said. "Did you really have to hurt the bad

men, Damian?" he asked with a grin. "I'm surprised they're still breathing."

Bart looked at the Asian boy, then at the boy in black. "You know each other?"

Both boys nodded. "We do," the boy in black said.

The demolition crew walked to their van and much to the delight of the

protesters, they left. The cameraman captured the cheering protesters as they raised their signs and voices in victory.

Among the cheering, the reporter was still interviewing the woman. "You've won a victory, albeit temporary. Are you worried that George Maxson will still demolish this house?"

"Not likely at this point," the woman replied. "We've managed to find supporters among the Historical Society who want to keep the house as it is and set it up as a tourist attraction. Of course, the ghost will have to be willing."

Soon, the TV news crew was done, and they were packing up their equipment. The protesters started to leave, their goal accomplished. The onlookers also left, their curiosity satisfied.

Katrina walked up to the reporter. "Your footage will be broadcast tonight, correct?"

The reporter stared at Katrina's silver hair before answering. "Uh, sure, little girl."

"That is all I need to know," Katrina said before rejoining the others.

"Well, that was interesting," Bo remarked.

"It sure was," Blake said. "Right, Shirley?"

"It was," Shirley said keeping her eye on Lucy and Katrina. Katrina was

standing with her eyes closed. Shirley noted that she seemed to be concentrating on something. "What is she doing?" she asked Lucy.

Before Shirley could get an answer, the woman and her daughter walked up to the young Knight. "Lucy, I really need to thank you for your help today, especially with your father," the woman said gratefully.

"Well, Mrs. March, as members of the Redington Historical Society, my parents feel that some pieces of the past must be preserved," Lucy said. "I'll tell them that you and the Redington Paranormal Society are very thankful for their help."

"I'm also happy that you and your friends stopped by to lend a hand," the woman said. "Susan was so insistent on having you here, and she was right to do so."

"Awwww, Mom," the girl said, bowing her head with embarrassment.

Bart, the Asian boy, and the boy in black joined them. "Well, I didn't

expect that to happen," Bart said, amazed at what just happened.

The woman saw Bart. "Ah, here's your knight in shining armor, Susan," she told her daughter teasingly.

The girl raised her head. "Uh, hi," she managed to say.

"Hi," Bart said nervously, doing a little wave.

Behind Bart, the Asian boy and the boy in black exchanged glances. "Hoo

boy," the Asian boy said, rolling his eyes. The boy in black expressed nothing.

"Blake, tell me I'm not seeing this," Bo whispered, noticing the interaction between Bart and the girl.

"Sorry, man. It's happening," Blake said with a smile.

The woman looked at the boy in black. "Hello there, Damian. Although I

don't approve of violence, I know you acted in self-defense. Still, I feel sorry for those poor men."

"I understand, Mrs. March," the boy in black replied with a nod. "However, those who must prey on the weak to be strong are weak themselves."

"Okay," Bo remarked upon hearing that deep thought.

"An interesting saying," Blake said, awed by the boy's apparent wisdom.

"It is a belief I have that has been proven time and again by my

observations and experiences," the boy in black said.

The woman looked at Shirley and her friends. "Hmmmmmmm...Lucy, I don't think I've ever met these kids before."

"Actually, I just met them yesterday at Sussex Academy." Lucy motioned to each of Shirley and her friends. "This is Shirley Holmes, Bo Sawchuk, Blake Hewitt, Parker..." She motioned to Bart. "This boy who stood up for your daughter is Bart James."

The woman introduced herself and her daughter. "I'm Bethany March, and this is Susan, my daughter." She looked at Bart. "Ah yes, you're the young man who reported an encounter with a poltergeist to the society, correct?"

"That's right, Mrs. March," Bart answered.

"Susan's been dying to meet you in person ever since you sent in that

report," Mrs. March revealed. "She has quite an interest in the paranormal.

Guess it's hereditary," she said with a wink.

Susan stepped forward and shook Bart's hand. "It's such an honor to finally meet you," she said with a smile. "Didn't you also work at the local SETI station?"

"Yeah, I did," Bart replied.

"Cool!" Susan exclaimed. "Find any signs of life?"

"Well..." From there, Bart and Susan started talking about aliens.

"I think Bart finally found his match," Blake whispered to Shirley with a

grin.

Mrs. March checked the time on her watch. "Well, I'd better report back to the society. Susan, are you coming with me or with your friends?" She saw Susan talking to Bart excitedly. "Oh, my. I guess that answers my question," Mrs. March said, shaking her head and smiling. Lucy, Damian, can you just drop her off at home before it gets too dark?"

"Of course, Mrs. March," the boy in black replied.

"No problem," Lucy said.

"Bye, Mom," Susan said before returning to talking with Bart.

"I'll see you later, Susan," Mrs. March said before heading for her own

car.

Shirley looked at the Asian boy and the boy in black. "Lucy, you haven't properly introduced us yet to your other friends."

Lucy smiled and motioned to the boy in black. "This is Damian Thorne, another distant cousin. He's the one who drove us here."

Bo looked over Damian. "Where's he from? Transylvania?"

Shirley raised an eyebrow at Bo and glared at him. Bo shut up immediately.

"I am from Nevada," Damian answered. Shirley wondered if Damian's reply

was rehearsed just like Katrina's.

Lucy started to introduce the Asian boy. "And this is..."

"Hiroshi Fujiyama," Shirley completed, recognizing the Asian boy. "We met

at the talent contest held at the Landmark Theater a while back."

"You remember me?" Hiroshi said in amazement. "I'm touched," he said in a mock sad tone.

"Shirley's got quite a memory," Blake said. "She can remember anything."

Katrina opened her eyes finally. Lucy took her aside and they discussed

something in low tones. Shirley tried to listen in, but she could not make out what they were saying.

"Well, now that we know each other, why don't we go somewhere to celebrate our little victory?" Lucy asked after she was done talking with Katrina.

"Uh, what about the Quazar Cafe?" Parker proposed.

"The Quazar Cafe?" Lucy thought for a moment. "Ah, that cybercafe you all

hang out at. Yes, we'll stop by for some refreshments. I'm buying."

"I second that motion!" Hiroshi declared, raising his hand.

"I third it," Bo said, glad that he did not have to pay for anything.

"Parker, that's not a bad idea," Blake said, complimenting his friend.

"Alicia's working there today," Shirley pointed out.

"I see," Bo said, grinning at Parker, who bowed his head to hide the red

blush spreading across his face.

Everyone started to leave the area. Just as Bart was about to join his friends, he heard a little voice say to him, "Please save my home, Bart."

Bart looked behind him and saw a figure on the porch. From where he was standing, it looked like a little girl in a dress.

"Please save my home, Bart," he heard her say again.

Bart came in for a closer look. He saw that it was indeed a little girl in

a dress. He noted that is was old-fashioned. "Who are you?" Bart asked the little girl.

"Please save my home, Bart," the little girl repeated.

"Hey, Bart," someone said from behind.

Bart found Blake standing behind him. "I heard you talking to someone."

Blake looked around. "Who were you talking to?"

"What are you talking about, Blake?" Bart asked his friend. "Can't you see her?"

"See who, Bart?" Blake asked, confused. "I don't see anyone else here expect you and me."

Bart turned back to where the little girl was, except now she was gone. "Huh?" he said, scratching his head. "She was here a minute ago. I swear it, Blake."

Blake looked at his friend with concern. "Uh, Bart, I think you'd better take a break from all this supernatural stuff. Come on. Maybe something from the Quazar Cafe will do the trick," he said with a smile.

"If you say so," Bart said, following Blake away from the Harrison house.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part Seven

"You actually have a landing spot for aliens in your backyard?" Susan asked Bart.

"That's right," Bart said, beaming.

"Well, what does it look like?" Susan asked excitedly. "Does it look like

a crop circle?"

Lucy watched Bart and Susan from the table she was sharing with Shirley inside the Quazar Cafe. Katrina was not there; she had gone to the bathroom before Alicia took their order. "Well, those two have certainly hit it off," she said with a smile.

"Indeed," Shirley said.

At the neighboring table, Bo, Blake, Parker, and Hiroshi watched Bart and

Susan. Damian did not join them; instead he stood near them. "I'm amazed that Bart's actually interested in a girl that's alive and human," Bo said, grinning.

"The same can be said for Susan," Hiroshi said, laughing a little. "She's never really taken interest in a live boy before ever since I've know her."

"You two attend the same school?" Blake asked.

"Yep," Hiroshi answered. "We're in the same classes, actually."

"You know, Hiroshi," Bo said, recalling something, "I thought you'd be

pursuing fame and fortune like your friend Madelyn."

"Yeah, well, my parents pretty much killed that idea," Hiroshi said with a smile. "They want me to finish my education, including going to a good university, before I try the fame game."

"With that prize money, you have a good start," Blake said. "Of course, you could also get the things you want."

"Sorry, no can do," Hiroshi said, shaking his head. "All the money went into a savings account. I can't touch the money until I'm college age. My parents feel that along with the money I'm getting from the Knight Foundation, I'll have a pretty good nest egg when I start my higher education."

"Money from the Knight Foundation?" Bo wondered.

"You're a Knight Foundation Scholar?" Blake asked.

"Yep," Hiroshi said proudly. "Great program. Most of the time, I don't

have to sit in some boring class. Instead, I get to have adventures and learn at the same time."

Damian looked at Hiroshi sternly. "Hey, lighten up, D-Man, I wasn't going to say anything that's confidential," Hiroshi told him.

"Confidential?" Bo asked.

Hiroshi looked alarmed. "Um, forget I said that, okay?" he said, grinning.

Katrina emerged from the bathroom and sat by Lucy. "So, is everything

okay?" she asked.

"Yes. All is well," Katrina answered.

Alicia came by with everyone's orders and started passing them out. She

served Bart and Susan first, giving them vanilla milkshakes. "Enjoy, you guys," she told them with a grin.

Alicia moved to the girls' table and gave them their sandwiches. "Your usual, Shirley," she said as she handed the junior detective her sandwich after serving Lucy and Katrina.

"Peanut butter and blue cheese," Katrina observed as Alicia went to the boys' table.

Shirley nodded silently. "Blake ordered the same thing," Katrina said.

"Yes, he did." Shirley bit into her sandwich and tried not to stare at

Katrina.

Alicia handed the boys their orders. "Thank you, Alicia," Parker said with a grin as he received his order. "You look great."

"Uh, thanks, Parker." After serving the boys, Alicia looked at Damian.

"You didn't order anything."

"I am not hungry nor thirsty," Damian replied simply.

Alicia gulped nervously. "Uh, well, I was wondering if you could leave.

Some of the customers have been looking at you funny." She paused as Damian gazed at her. "No offense, but I think you're scaring people. I think they think that you're going to suck their blood or something like that."

Shirley heard this and looked around. Almost everyone was staring at Damian. Some of them looked absolutely frightened, and Shirley did not blame them. Damian Thorne gave her the creeps, but she kept this feeling to herself.

Damian nodded to Alicia. "I understand." He walked up to Lucy as she was eating her sandwich. "I will be waiting in the van," he told her.

"Okay, Damian," Lucy said. Damian exited the Quazar Cafe, and some of the customers breathed a sigh of relief and returned to their meals.

"If I remember correctly, everyone kept looking at you strangely when you came in," Shirley said, addressing Katrina. "Now they're rather calm about it."

"Katrina just doesn't have that threatening aura like Damian does," Lucy said with a grin. "People get used to Katrina. It's not the same thing with Damian."

"Why's that?" Shirley asked.

"I can't say," Lucy said, which piqued Shirley's curiosity even more.

At their table, Bart and Susan were now talking about the Knight Foundation

Scholarship program. "So you're a Knight Foundation Scholar?" Bart asked.

Susan nodded. "That's right."

"Tell me. What's it like?" Bart asked.

Susan thought for a moment. "Well, it is interesting. You get to go to

other places and meet interesting people. It's much better than sitting in a classroom."

"I'll say. Do you have to deal with teachers who won't accept your beliefs in the supernatural and paranormal?" Bart asked, remembering how Mr. Howie and his peers treated him.

"When I have my normal classes, I do," Susan admitted. "Especially my science teacher. She hates it when I mention ghosts and aliens." She went into an impression and as she spoke, she wagged her finger. "Ghosts and aliens do not exist, young lady. There has not been conclusive proof that they do exist. Now return to studying your periodic table, Miss March."

Bart laughed, much to the surprise of his friends. "That's good," he told Susan.

"Well, not really," Susan admitted.

"I sound more like this, Miss March," a woman's voice declared. "How dare

you talk about me behind my back!"

Frightened, Susan looked around, then saw the boys at the other table chucking and laughing. She stared at Hiroshi. "Hiroshi!"

Hiroshi laughed. "Sorry about that, Susan, but I couldn't help myself.

Besides, you didn't do it right," he said with a big grin.

"That wasn't bad," Bo said.

"Actually, that was excellent," Blake complemented. "So you're a mimic,

too?"

"Yeah, that's me. Hiroshi Fujiyama, ventriloquist and voice mimic," Hiroshi said, beaming. "My special talents. It makes up for my lacking in other areas."

"Like math?" Susan said from her table. "I recall you getting a C- on our last test."

"Oh sure, rub that in," Hiroshi said, pretending to be hurt. "All Asians aren't good in math, you know."

Shirley looked at Lucy and was about to ask Lucy a question concerning the Harrison House when Katrina interrupted her. "You wish to know what's going on with the Harrison house."

"Yes," Shirley said, wishing that Katrina would stop doing that.

Bart joined the girls at their table. "Do you mind if I hear this story?"

"Not at all," Lucy said.

Susan sat down besides Bart. "I know this story, but I thought I'd listen

to it again," she said, looking at Bart.

"Guys, you might want to hear this," Hiroshi recommended to Bo, Blake, and Parker. They got ready to listen.

Smiling at Bart and Susan, Lucy put down her sandwich and began her explanation. "Well, during the nineteenth century, a Mr. and Mrs. Harrison lived there, hence the name. They had one young daughter by the name of Clarissa. She was their only child at the time. Mr. Harrison was a well-known corn merchant, and he and his family were well-off. Mrs. Harrison was known to host numerous parties on the estate. One day, such a party was being held. It was a nice sunny day, so everyone was outside. The guests' children played with Clarissa while the men discussed local matters and the women gossiped among themselves. Mrs. Harrison went back inside the house now and then to check on things in the kitchen and helped the servants bring out the food and drinks. After a while, she stayed inside.

"Well, the kids decided to play hide-and-go-seek. While one of the boys started counting by a tree, the other kids looked for places to hide, including Clarissa. She decided to hide in the basement, and so she snuck into the house. Eventually, the boy had found everyone except Clarissa, and all the kids started looking for her. A man said that he saw Clarissa sneak into the house. Everyone was about to go into the house when Mrs. Harrison came out of the house with tears running down her face. When Mr. Harrison asked her what was the matter, his wife told him that she found Clarissa in the basement at the bottom of the stairs. She was dead due to a broken neck.

"An official police investigation was launched and everyone was questioned, but they all had good alibis, including Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. Eventually, it was concluded that the poor girl had fallen to her death. They would have two other kids, twins actually, but they never got over the death of their firstborn. The children, named Oscar and Olivia, grew up and eventually left Redington. Their parents stayed in their house. Oscar became an architect and Olivia married a preacher. Years later, they returned to see their mother, who was on her deathbed. Her health had declined over the years despite her husband's best efforts. The doctor told her family that he could do nothing further and that soon she would be in heaven. He told them that she wanted to see her husband and her two children. They went in to see her, and during their talk, she shocked them all with the tearful confession that she was responsible for Clarissa's death. Apparently, she had found Clarissa in the basement and became angry since it was forbidden for Clarissa to play down there. Mrs. Harrison was dragging her up the stairs to put her in her room, but Clarissa was struggling to break loose of her hold. She succeeded, but by then, they were at the door leading to the basement. The poor girl tumbled down the stairs and broke her neck. Mrs. Harrison, realizing that her daughter was dead, started to weep and blamed herself despite the fact that it was an accident. She kept this knowledge to herself as her own punishment. The day after this confession, she died.

"Now, eventually Mr. Harrison died at a ripe old age, leaving the house to Oscar. Already established in New York, Oscar rented out the house to tenants, but they left after a few days. When he asked them about what was wrong, they told him that they kept seeing a little girl dressed in white roaming the house.

"After Oscar's death, the house was left to Olivia, but by then the Great Depression affected the entire world. She had to sell the old family estate to a young businessman named Aldernook. Aldernook installed electrical lines and tried living there, but he left, citing the ghost of a little girl for the reason. Still, the house was used as a place for children to runaway to when they had problems at home. Usually, they came right back home. They did admit seeing a ghost of a little girl, but they weren't scared. They said that the ghost talked to them and eventually convinced them to go home. Paranormal experts have claimed to see the ghost and have produced pictures, but skeptics didn't accept their proof."

"So what does this George Maxson have to do with the Harrison house?"

Shirley asked out of curiosity.

Lucy continued. "Well, a few years back, Aldernook's daughter married George Maxson, a man in the mall business, so to speak. When Aldernook kicked the bucket recently, he left everything, including the house, to his daughter. Maxson then came up with the idea of tearing the house down and building a new mall on the land. He managed to get the building permits from City Hall. After all, the house was old, and no one wanted to claim it or live there."

"Until the Redington Paranormal Society expressed an interest in it," Shirley said.

"Exactly," Lucy said. "Now Maxson's all bent out of shape that someone's actually trying to save the house. The temporary reprieve isn't exactly a good thing, either, and now that the Redington Historical Society is involved, his chances of building the mall are close to zero. He stands to lose a lot if the mall isn't built, about ten million or more."

"How do you know that?" Shirley asked.

"I estimated," Lucy answered quickly.

"I see." Shirley's suspicions were aroused further even more.

* * * * *

Once all of the kids were done with their food, they exited the Quazar Cafe. Lucy kept her word and paid for everything. After exchanging goodbyes with Shirley and her friends, Lucy and her friends left in their van to keep their promise to Mrs. March. Parker hurried out of there because he promised to be home before a certain time. The only ones left outside the Quazar Cafe were Shirley, Bo, Blake, and Bart.

"Very interesting people," Bart remarked as he watched the black van Lucy and her friends were using.

"Are you sure you're not just thinking about Susan?" Bo said teasingly.

Bart bowed his head and blushed. "You know, I've been thinking of applying

for the Knight Foundation Scholarship program if Sussex Academy accepts it."

"They were voting for it today after school, if I recall," Shirley said.

"Gee, I wonder why Bart would be interested in it now?" Bo said, flashing a

grin.

"Well, Susan did say some great stuff about the program," Bart said as he went to his bike. "I'll see you guys tomorrow at school," he said before he took off on his bike.

Bo shook his head and smiled. "Looks like our resident ghost and UFO expert is growing up."

Blake noticed the intense, thoughtful look on Shirley's face as they waved goodbye to Bart. "Still suspicious of Lucy Knight?" he asked her.

"Very," Shirley admitted. "There's something strange about her and her friends."

"Definitely with the friends," Bo said. "One of them has silver hair and the other one dresses like Dracula Jr. and can incapacitate grown men with his fingers. Oh, and let's not forget that they are both in serious need of a tan."

"Katrina and Damian are indeed strange characters," Shirley acknowledged.

"Katrina seemed to be able to read what was on my mind."

"Like a psychic?" Blake asked.

"Perhaps," Shirley said. "Still, the only link connecting all of them is

the Knight Foundation Scholarship program. Blake, don't you think you...?"

Blake knew what Shirley was going to ask him. "Say no more, Shirley.

Sherlock's on the case."

"Thanks, Blake," Shirley said as she got on her bike. "I'll see you guys later." As she rode her bike towards home, she wondered what was going on now in her life.

* * * * *

That night, Shirley watched the TV news with her family. The report about the protest rally at the Harrison house was going to be on the broadcast, and she did not want to miss it.

"As of now, the Redington Police Department hasn't figured out the riddle allegedly sent to them by the ENIGMA crime organization," the TV desk reporter said. A picture of the toy Chinese dragon was shown. "The riddle was spoken by--yes, this is true--a toy dragon that was delivered to the Police Department. When it was activated, it scratched the policeman who was holding it."

The screen switched to a policeman showing off his bandaged hand. "It hurt like hell, but I'll live," the policeman said.

"Any idea what the riddle means?" a reporter off-screen asked.

"Nope," the policeman answered. "We're still trying to figure it out."

As the report on the ENIGMA riddle concluded and the report on the protest

rally was about to begin, the phone rang. "I'll get it," Shirley said, getting up from her seat. She went to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Shirley. It's me, Blake," the person on the other line said.

"Hi, Blake. What did you find out?"

"Actually, I just confirmed that Hiroshi, Susan, and Damian are Knight

Foundation Scholars," Blake reported. "I wasn't able to get more info on them, however."

"Why's that?" Shirley asked.

"Because I couldn't get through the security protocols for those files,"

Blake answered. "I tried every trick I knew, and I couldn't get any access.

That's not even the weirdest part."

Now Shirley was really curious. "What was?"

"After trying probably for the umpteenth time to access the files, my

screen went blank, and a message showed up," Blake revealed. "It said, 'Please don't pry, Sherlock, a.k.a. Blake Hewitt. Don't worry. I'll cover up your trail and charges won't be filed, but don't do this ever again. After all, we're on the same side. Excalibur.'"

"Excalibur?"

"Excalibur. That was the handle used. After that, I lost my connection

and I was left staring at my desktop," Blake said.

Shirley started thinking over this new development, then checked the TV. She heard that the report on the protest rally was about to start. "Okay, thanks, Blake. I've got to go. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Okay, Shirley. Take care." Blake hung up.

Hanging up the phone, Shirley returned to her seat and saw that the news

had moved on to sports. "Did I miss anything?" she asked her parents and Gran.

"I'm afraid you did," Gran said. "It was rather interesting about the Harrison house. Too bad some of the footage was ruined."

"What?" Shirley asked.

"Well, at certain parts of the footage, the images were too blurry or

nonexistent," Mr. Holmes said. "Strangely, this happened when the alleged fight happened."

"Yes, although lots of people do complain about too much violence on TV," Dr. Holmes said with a little laugh.

"Good point, Mom," Shirley said, but her mind was on Lucy Knight and her friends. Things were getting even more interesting to the young sleuth.

The Case of the Haunted House : Part Eight

Shirley managed to get a good night's sleep, with no sign of Katrina in her dreams. As a result, she returned to her morning routine of getting the newspaper before her father could. Among the more interesting items she clipped from the newspaper were an article on the toy dragon and its riddle and the Harrison house debate.

Taking her bike to school, she met up with Bo and Blake in the hallway.

"Well, someone got a good night's sleep," Bo commented.

"I sure did," Shirley said, opening her locker.

"Back to the usual routine?" Blake asked.

"Yes," Shirley answered, searching through her locker. "Dad lamented the

loss of his non-cut paper this morning. The dragon's riddle hasn't been solved yet, and I'm still trying to figure it out."

Bo lowered his voice. "Blake told me what happened last night. I'm actually at a loss. Sherlock actually failed."

"Well, I was beaten by a superior opponent," Blake whispered. "Now I just want to know who Excalibur is."

"From what was in his message to you, he or she seems rather generous," Shirley said, taking out what she needed. "If anyone else had discovered you, you would've been at the police station facing charges of computer hacking."

"Yeah, it was a close call," Blake said, relieved. "Apparently, someone doesn't like me digging in too much."

"Did you guys see the news last night?" Bo asked. "The footage of the fight those guys had with Damian was either gone or screwed up."

"I've heard," Shirley said, closing her locker. "Rather unusual, don't you think?"

"Tell me about it. The reporter said the footage was checked before it aired. It was fine," Bo said.

"Guys, we'd better get to class or we'll be late," Blake said urgently.

They made it to their first class on time. As they made it to their seats,

the school's public address system crackled to life. "Attention, all Sussex Academy students!" the voice of Ms. Stratmann boomed. "I have an important announcement to make before the usual items."

"What? The cafeteria will be serving pizza from now on?" Bo quipped in a low voice.

Shirley shook her head as Ms. Stratmann continued her announcement. "I am pleased to report that there will be a new option to the curriculum of Sussex Academy. Starting today, applications for the Knight Foundation Scholarship program will be made available. Students who are interested in this independent study program can pick up an explanation of the program along with an application from the administrative office..."

"Looks like Sussex Academy's accepted Mr. Knight's terms," Blake whispered to Shirley as Ms. Stratmann continued her announcements.

Shirley nodded silently. She knew one person who would be applying for the program.

* * * * *

At lunch, Shirley saw Bart heading towards her table carrying some papers.

He also had a large smile on his face.

"Well, somebody's happy," Bo said as Bart sat down. "You do know that the Science Club is determining your fate today after school?"

Shirley looked at the papers Bart had. "The application for the Knight Foundation Scholarship program?"

"Exactly," Bart said with gladness in his voice. "I've gotten