The Fairy-Tale Detectives (The Sisters Grimm, Book 1)

"No trouble at all, sir," said Mr. Seven as he took a spiral-bound pad and a pen from his jacket pocket and furiously jotted down his boss's instructions.

 

"See how easy it is to be a team player, Mr. Seven? I like your change of attitude. If you keep this up we might be able to get rid of that hat," the man said.

 

"That would please me, sir."

 

"Let's not rush things, Mr. Seven. After all, you still haven't given these children my card, which is incredibly frustrating, especially since we discussed this just last night. What did I tell you, man?"

 

"Give everyone your card. It's good networking."

 

"Indeed it is," the man replied, tapping his toe impatiently.

 

 

 

 

 

"So sorry, Mr. Charming, sir," Mr. Seven said as he rushed to the girls and shoved a business card into each of their hands. It was purple with a golden crown on one side and the words MAYOR WILLIAM CHARMING—HERE TO LEAD YOU written on it in gold lettering. Underneath the name were a telephone number, an e-mail address, and a Web site: www.mayorcharming.com.

 

"Now, what was I saying before I had to tell you how to do your job, Mr. Seven?"

 

But before the little man could answer, Sabrina stepped forward. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was a bully.

 

"You were saying there ought to be a law against unsupervised children," Sabrina said angrily. "There should be a law against talking to people like they are morons, too!"

 

"Yes, that's correct. See, Seven, if this carnival girl can pay attention to the conversation, why can't you? Why, she can't be more than eight years old, and certainly slow in the head," Mayor Charming said.

 

"I'm almost twelve," Sabrina shouted. "And I'm not slow!"

 

Mayor Charming seemed startled by her anger.

 

"Where are your parents, child?" he snapped.

 

"We're here with our grandmother," Daphne answered. Sabrina spun around on her sister angrily. The old lunatic was not their grandmother.

 

"How splendid for you," Mayor Charming sneered. "And who is your grandmother?"

 

Daphne pointed to Mrs. Grimm, who was busy taking notes on a little pad of paper.

 

"Relda Grimm is your grandmother?" the mayor growled between gritted teeth. "When will this cursed family die out? You're like a swarm of cockroaches!"

 

Mrs. Grimm looked over, saw Mayor Charming, and quickly came to join them.

 

"Relda Grimm, I just met your granddaughters," the mayor said, as his face changed from a scowl to a smile. "They're the spitting image of their grandfather."

 

He bent over and pinched Daphne on the cheek. "Hopefully, they'll grow out of it," he muttered.

 

"Mayor Charming, what brings you all the way out here? I thought you'd be busy planning the fund-raiser. It's in a couple of days, correct?" said Mrs. Grimm with a forced smile.

 

"It is not a fund-raiser!" Charming insisted. "It's a ball! And it is tomorrow night. But you know how the community is. If I don't investigate every little stray cloud, the flock gets nervous. But then again, I could ask you the same question. What is the famous Relda Grimm doing in the middle of nowhere looking at a broken house?"

 

He was right—it was a house that had fallen down. Sabrina saw pieces of furniture and clothing sticking out of the pile and an old afghan quilt swinging from a stick in the breeze.

 

"I don't know what the farmer expected with such shoddy workmanship. He's lucky to have crawled out alive," he continued.

 

"So there was a survivor?" Mrs. Grimm said, writing in her notebook.

 

"Here she goes, Mr. Seven. You can almost see the wheels spinning in her head. Relda Grimm, private eye, out to solve the case that never was," the mayor said. "See, that's the problem with you Grimms. You could never quite grasp that in order to solve a mystery there must be a mystery to solve. A farmer built a flimsy house and it fell down. It was an accident. Case closed."

 

"Then why did you call it a crime scene?" Sabrina piped up.

 

Charming turned and gave her a look that could have burned a hole through her. "You must have misheard me, child," he said between gritted teeth. "Mr. Seven, take down this note, please. New law—children should not ask questions of their elders."

 

As the little man scribbled furiously in his notebook, Mrs. Grimm said, "We both know why we're here, Mayor."

 

Charming's face turned red. He tugged on his necktie and adjusted his collar. "This is none of your concern, Relda."

 

Before the old woman could respond, Mr. Canis joined the group.

 

"Well, if it isn't the big bad . . ."

 

"Mayor Charming!" said Mrs. Grimm angrily.

 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I heard you were going by Canis now." Charming grinned and leaned in close to Sabrina and Daphne. "Do yourselves a favor, girls, and check Granny's teeth before you give her a good-night kiss."

 

"Do you think it wise to provoke me?" Mr. Canis said as he took a step toward the mayor. Despite Mr. Canis's quiet demeanor, the words seemed to unnerve Charming.

 

Michael Buckley's books