“Here,” he said, handing the tool to Keira. “Careful. It’s still hot.”
Freed up now, he put a hand to either side of the box but hesitated before actually touching it.
“You want me to do it?” Mr. Trouble asked.
“No,” Uncle Carl said quickly. “I’ve got it. It’s just…” He looked back at everyone. “I never thought we’d actually find one.”
“Maybe someone should take a picture,” Maggie joked.
The whole Trouble family turned and looked at her.
“She’s right,” Fiona said. She pulled a cell phone out of her pocket. “Smile, Uncle Carl.”
Uncle Carl looked at the camera, unsmiling, and she took the shot.
“Perfect,” she said.
This time, when Uncle Carl reached for the box, he grabbed it by the sides and pulled.
There was an odd whiny-creaky sound.
Mr. Trouble leaned over his uncle’s shoulder and looked into the growing gap between the box and the wall.
“Stop!” he yelled.
Uncle Carl froze, the box suspended in the air, four inches from the wall.
Mr. Trouble held his hand out to Fiona. “Camera.”
She gave him her cell phone. He moved it so that the lens was pointed into the gap then snapped off a shot. He looked at the display, unsatisfied.
“Does this thing have a flash?” he asked.
“No,” she said.
Mr. Trouble scanned the room and then nodded toward one of the nightstands. “Eric, grab that lamp for me and bring it over here, would you?”
The lamp was made of brushed steel, and looked like it would cost Eric every cent of his allowance from now until the end of high school to replace if he broke it.
“Please hurry,” Uncle Carl said. “Not sure how much longer I can hold it like this.”
Eric unplugged the lamp from the wall then carefully carried it over to Mr. Trouble.
“I’ll plug it in,” Fiona offered.
She grabbed the end of the cord and stuck it into a socket a couple of feet away. Eric then clicked the switch on the base and the bulb lit up.
“Hold it next to the camera so the light gets in behind the box,” Mr. Trouble said. “Be careful, though, don’t touch the box itself. Don’t know what a little electricity might do to it.”
Eric did as he was told, with Fiona helping out by holding the cord so it wouldn’t droop down.
Mr. Trouble took another shot, this time smiling at the results. “That’ll work.”
“Can I move now?” Uncle Carl asked.
“It’s all yours.”
While Uncle Carl pulled the box from the wall, Eric returned the lamp to the nightstand. When he walked back over, Fiona and Keira were looking at the image on the cell phone.
“Can I see?” he asked.
“Don’t see why not,” Fiona said, turning the phone toward him.
On the right side of the image was the back of the box, and on the left was the wall, but it was what was in between that obviously interested the Troubles. Roughly in line with the back of each of the drawers were thin strings or cords attached from the box to the wall. Nine cords in all.
“Did the other boxes have these?” he asked.
“Not as far as we know,” Fiona said. “There was no mention of anything like this in the records.”
“Definitely something new,” Keira said.
Eric looked at the picture again. “What do you think they are?”
Fiona shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“All right, everyone,” Mr. Trouble said. “We’re out of here.”
Cradling the box carefully in his arms, Uncle Carl brought up the rear as they went back to the car. He then wrapped it in his jacket and put it carefully in the trunk.
“Shouldn’t you hold it?” Eric asked when Uncle Carl got in beside him.
Uncle Carl looked unsure. “Do you think I should?” He leaned forward and touched Mr. Trouble on the shoulder. “Maybe I should get it before we go.”
“It’s fine where it is,” Mr. Trouble said, starting the car.
“Are you sure?’
“I’m sure.”
“Where to now?” Eric asked. “The workshop to figure out what’s inside?”
“The workshop’s still flying around, remember?” Keira said.
“Oh. Right.”
“Now we take you guys home,” Mr. Trouble said.
“That’s right. Slumber party.” Fiona raised her arms halfheartedly into the air. “Woo-hoo.”
Maggie groaned.
As Mr. Trouble pulled the car away from the curb, Eric caught a quick glimpse of someone at a house across the street. He was leaning out from behind a stack of firewood, watching them drive off.
Within just a few seconds, he was out of sight. But it had been long enough for Eric to get a look at the guy’s face.
Peter Garr.
And he was sniffing the air.
Excerpt from the TFS Encyclopedia
Maker’s Box
Name given to box that appears to be present at each Maker hideout at some point.
Until 1895, the square-shaped waxy residue that was often found in connection with a case was thought to be unimportant. This residue was always found on a wall in the house the Makers used as their residence.
In 1895, Robert Trouble discovered the first Maker’s box still attached to the wall in a house near New Orleans, Louisiana. The box had slots for nine drawers across the front, but all the drawers were missing. The box, though in poor condition, is stored at TFS headquarters.
A second box was discovered in 1957 in Memphis, Tennessee. This box still had four drawers intact, though empty. Attempts to figure out what they might have contained failed. This box is also stored at TFS headquarters.
As of this writing, they remain the only two boxes that have been discovered.
While it is apparent these boxes have an important function, that function is still unknown.
17
Mrs. Ortega was all smiles and hugs when they got there.
“A homework slumber party,” she said to Maggie. “Mija, what a great idea. We should do these more often. Fun and educational.”
As more proof of her approval, she got them three large pizzas — something Maggie’s mom almost never ordered — and then left them undisturbed in the dining room.
Eric could tell Maggie was seriously not happy with the situation. She barely talked to him and said nothing at all to the Trouble sisters. He tried to start a conversation a couple of times but finally gave up.
Surprisingly, the evening turned into exactly what they were pretending it was — a homework slumber party. With little else to do, they broke out their books and studied. Even Fiona and Keira had brought along work, though Eric was pretty sure Keira had tucked Noriko’s Revenge inside the history book she was pretending to read.
Having finished his math homework for Ms. Lindgren, he’d begun working on his Spanish worksheets for the coming week. Next up would be the essay for Mrs. Bernhardi’s English class.
“Ugh,” Fiona said. She was sitting to Eric’s left while her sister was directly across from them. Maggie had chosen the chair at the head of the table, as far from them as she could get.
Eric finished the sentence he was writing then looked over. “Something wrong?”
“Broke my lead and forgot my sharpener,” she said, holding up her pencil.
“I’ve got an extra one.” He got a pencil out of his bag and handed it to her.
She smiled. “Thanks.”