Minerva Keen's Detective Club by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson [Patterson, James and Graff, Keir]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2023-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

“HELLO? IS ANYBODY HOME? HELLOOOOO?”

I banged my fist on the elegant front doors of the Arcanum, but nobody answered. Cupping my hands around my eyes, I squinted through the glass and saw that Oskar wasn’t at his desk.

Here’s the thing about living in a building with a doorman: He opens the door for you, which is nice, especially when your hands are full. But if he needs to step away, he locks the doors to make sure nobody comes in and robs the place.

And even though we weren’t robbers, now we couldn’t get in, either. Heck and I never carry front-door keys—because we have a doorman.

I pulled on the big brass handles one last time, but the doors wouldn’t budge. Then I turned around and shrugged at Heck and Santos.

“I guess he isn’t there,” I said.

“That’s weird,” said Heck. “I can’t remember the last time Oskar was gone when I got home.”

“Maybe he had to go to the bathroom,” said Santos.

Santos had become a regular blabbermouth ever since joining Detective Club. Around other people, he was still about as talkative as a mailbox, but he acted differently with us. He had discovered that his vocal cords worked, and he liked using them, too.

“You’re probably right,” I told Santos.

While we waited for Oskar to finish his business, Santos and I watched Heck try to jump over a fire hydrant on his skateboard. Santos thought he would make it eventually, but I thought Heck would probably end up with a cast on his other arm, too.

Neither of us ended up being right. Ten minutes later, we were still stuck outside.

“I’ll check the back door,” Heck volunteered.

He pushed off and clickety-clacked down the sidewalk on his skateboard. As soon as he turned the corner, the front doors opened. But they weren’t opened by Oskar, holding them wide and grinning at us like he always did.

Instead, a wild-eyed woman ran right into us, knocking us over like bowling pins. By the time I got back on my feet, she was halfway down the block.

“Stop!” I yelled.

She glanced over her shoulder and kept going. I don’t think she could have run any faster if she was being chased by hungry cheetahs.

I pulled out my phone to take her picture, but she was already too far away.

Who was she?

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