"Martin, Ann M - Baby-sitters Club Mystery 022 - Stacey and the Haunted Masquerade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"Anyway," he continued, after shooting Mary Anne a grin, "we found this dusty old storage room, packed with ancient records." He gave us a significant look, and we looked back blankly. I thought he was talking about old Bee Gees albums.
Logan sighed. "Like, student records," he explained, a little impatiently.
"Ohhhh," I said, finally understanding. "Wow! Really?"
"So you mean we might be able to check the records on each of these three girls?" Claudia asked.
"That's exactly what I mean," said Logan.
"But we're not allowed down there," Mary Anne reminded us. "Shouldn't we just ask somebody, like Mr. Kingbridge, or one of the teachers?"
"Are you kidding?" Logan said. "If we did that, we'd never find out any answers. Nobody wants to talk about what happened at
that dance. They'd never let us look through the records."
"I'm ready to go," said Abby, standing up. Her eyes were gleaming. "Lead the way, Logan."
He checked his watch. "We don't have time now," he said. "Lunch period's nearly over. How about if we meet here right after school?"
We all agreed that we would, even Mary Anne. And later that day, less than five minutes after the last bell, we were standing outside the library door, ready to do some detective work. I'd told Jessi and Mal to come, too, and they were as excited as the rest of us.
"I've never even been in the basement," said Mal.
"ThatТs because you're a sixth-grader," Logan joked. "You're too young to be initiated into the deepest mysteries of SMS."
"But we can come with you now, can't we?" asked Jessi.
"You bet," said Logan, grinning. He turned to face the rest of us. "Everybody ready?"
"Ready," I replied.
"Definitely ready," said Abby, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "I want to really get to know my new school!"
"Ready, I guess," said Mary Anne hesitantly.
"I'm better than ready, I'm prepared," said Claud, holding up a bag of M&Ms. "I brought provisions, in case we end up lost down there in the deepest mysteries of SMS."
"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Kristy. "Lead the way, Logan." She had a determined look in her eye, but I had the feeling that even Kristy might be the tiniest bit nervous about what we were going to do.
The fact was, we were all nervous. Even Logan. Even Abby. But we tried to hide it as we followed Logan down the stairs marked "No Entry." The stairwell was dimly lit, and our footsteps echoed as we descended into the ever-darker basement. Finally, at the bottom, Logan pushed open a heavy door and waved us through.
Then the door slammed shut behind us.
"Oh, my Lord!"
"Is it locked?"
"We're trapped!"
Everybody started to panic, but Logan raised his voice above the din. "Quiet, everybody," he said. "It's not locked. I made sure of that. Don't worry, we're fine."
By the time he'd finished talking, we had calmed down Ч a little. I looked around and saw that we were in a dark hallway with several doors opening off of it. All the doors looked the same, but Logan led us confidently
to the third one on the right. He looked uncertain as he tried the knob, but then a grin lit up his face and he pushed the door open. "Here we are," he said.
It was a little lighter inside the room, because two small basement windows, high up in the walls, let in some sun. But it wasn't exactly what you'd call bright. There was just enough light for us to see pile upon pile of cardboard file boxes, covered with layers of dust and festooned with cobwebs.
"Nobody's cleaned in here for a while," joked Kristy.
Abby sneezed three times in a row. "This dust!" she said. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a surgical mask, and put it on. "I should have dode," she said in a stuffed-up voice.
"How do we start?" I asked. "It would take months to look through every box."
"We don't have to," said Logan. "They're pretty well labeled. All we have to do is find the one from that year."
Logan turned out to be right. It wasn't hard to find the box we needed, and, fortunately, the records inside were neatly alphabetized. I had written down the names of the three girls listed in the yearbook, and it didn't take long to pull out their records. I passed out the files, and everybody started to page through them.
Then I riffled quickly through the box and grabbed one more file, just out of curiosity.
"I have Julia Berkman's file," Kristy reported, "and it says here that she transferred in the following March, to a school for the performing arts."
"Lucky!" Jessi murmured.
"She's not the one we're looking for," said Claudia. "Keep checking."
"Here's Susan Hsia's file," Mary Anne said. "It seems as if her family moved, and I'm trying to figure out when. Oh, here it is. They moved to Sioux Falls Ч is that in Iowa? Ч in December."
"ItТs id South Dakota," said Abby, still sniffing. "But I dod't think we deed to go out there to track dowd Susad. She's dot our girl, if she left school in Decebber."
Mal was looking through the third file. As I waited, I opened the file I'd grabbed. It was Michael Rothman's. I scanned it quickly and discovered that he was on the football team, and that he had been an average student. There was nothing else very interesting, except for one mention, by a counselor, about "Michael's extreme fear of heights." Hmmm.
"Hold on, hold on!" shouted Mal suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. "This is it! I'm positive!"
We clustered around to look over her shoulder. "ItТs Elizabeth Connor," breathed Claudia.
"All it says is that she left school in early November," Mal said. "No further explanation."
"ThatТs our girl," I said. 'It has to be her."
"And check it out!" exclaimed Jessi. "Where it gives her address? ThatТs the Johanssens' house, on Kimball Street."
"Wow!" said Mary Anne. "ThatТs a coincidence. And I have a sitting job there tonight."
'Too bad Elizabeth doesn't still live there," I said. "I'd love to interview her."
Suddenly, Mary Anne and I looked at each other, and I could tell we'd both had the same great idea.
Chapter 12.