But instead, Shaniya had started the car and was halfway down the driveway before I even had time to shut the door.
✧˖°.✧˖˚▹ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ༺༄ؘ 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7 ༄ؘ༻ₓ˚ .୧ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୭˚▹ₓ˚.✧˖°.✧
"Ha𝘩𝘢, this will be an easy case!" Shaniya crowed happily. "It's not everyday that your client tells you who you should be looking for!"
"Of course it's not everyday, I don't have everyday cases with everyday clients," I replied.
"Don't try to be smart with me, Corlorown."
"If the client knew who the thief was, then why wouldn't she call the police?" I asked.
"That's not important," Shaniya told me, "what we need to find out is how the burglars broke in through the ceiling."
"How are you so sure that they broke in from the ceiling?" I asked.
"The windows were latched," Shaniya replied, "the ceiling is the only way that anyone could've gotten in."
"We got in by going through some double doors," I replied, but Shaniya just shook her head and kept driving. We passed the small white cottage and then came to stop in front of the lighthouse, which needed a repaint and seemed to lean on one side.
"Listen, Corlorown," Shaniya said. "We're not just going to ring the doorbell and ask for stolen goods. That's just foolish. We're going to use a con, a word here that means a bit of trickery. And don't tell me you already know what that means. In fact, don't say anything at all."
I heard her, so I didn't say anything. She marched up to the door and rang the doorbell six times.
"Why do you always-"
"I said don't say 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨," Shaniya snapped, even though I didn't say "anything."
The door swung open and a man stood there wearing a bathrobe and a pair of furry bunny slippers that looked quite comfortable. He looked like he was going to stay in that outfit for a 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 long time. He yawned loudly and looked at us groggily as I gave him a blank stare.
"Yes?" The man said before he sneezed a large sneeze.
"Mr. Wahalian?" Shaniya asked in an overly-sugared voice.
"Correct."
"I'm Kyra Shanes," she said, continuing the false voice. "I'm a young woman with my husband and we're on our honeymoon."
The man nodded slowly. "Okay... what's that gotta do with me?"
"We're both 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 about lighthouses. Can we come in and talk to you for a minute?"
Mr. Wahalian scratched his head and I started to hide my hands behind my back since I didn't have a ring on my finger.
"I guess so," the man said. He ushered us into a small room with a large staircase leading up to the top of the lighthouse. We climbed up the stairs and sitting on a few steps was a girl with a typewriter. She looked about my age but the typewriter looked the opposite. She typed a few sentences into it then paused to look up at me and smile. Her smile was quite pleasant to the human eye, along with the blue beanie she was wearing. She continued typing and I wondered what those fingers were pressing so madly for. The girl looked up from typing to stare at me, which made me see that her eyes were full of questions about 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. Who, what, where, when, why - she had questions about it 𝘢𝘭𝘭.
"I was just trying to get some coffee," Mr. Wahalian said, gesturing to an open door that led into a small kitchen where a sink stacked with dishes could be found. "Would you like some?"
"No thank you," Shaniya replied. "However, I'll tag along with you to talk while the children play."
Mr. Wahalian seemed content with that answer and walked off to the kitchen while Shaniya made little shooing motions at me. It's always awkward to play with people you don't know, but I climbed up the stairs until I was standing in front of the typing girl.
"I'm Ravon Corlorown," I told her.
She paused her typing to take her blue beanie off and handed me a small card that was found inside the beanie.
𝕽𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖞 𝖂𝖆𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆𝖓. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖜𝖘.
"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴," I repeated. "What's the news, Riley?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out," she answered while typing a few more sentences. "Who's that woman that knocked on the door? How are y'all married? Where'd y'all come from? How are you crazy about lighthouses? Why'd she shoo you away? Is 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 spelled like how it's pronounced?"
"No," I replied, answering the last question first. "Are you a reporter?"
"I'm the only reporter left in Murthorn Marine," Riley answered. "It's in my blood. Both of my parents were reporters when this place was a lighthouse 𝘢𝘯𝘥 a newspaper. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘔𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺. Do you recognize the name?"
"No," I said, "but I'm not even from here, so maybe I would've heard of it if I was."
"The newspaper's out of business," Riley told me, "but I still know everything that's happening in the town. So?"
"So?"
She placed her fingers down on the keys, ready to type whatever was going to come out of my mouth. "So what's happening, Ravon? Tell me the tea."
I always tried to avoid people who referred to important information as "𝘵𝘦𝘢" since tea wasn't even that good, but I still decided to speak with Riley anyway, she seemed like an interesting person.
"Do you generally know everything that happens here?" I asked.
"Obviously," she answered.
"Really, Riley?"
"Really, Ravon. Tell me the tea and I might even help you."
My pupils went from staring at Riley's typewriter to her eyes. Their color was pretty interesting, the lightest shade of blue that I'd ever seen.
"Can I tell you the news without you writing down everything I say?" I asked.
She reached under the typewriter and clicked a button, and the whole apparatus folded into a square with a handle, like a small metal suitcase. It was a neat trick.
"Yeah?"
I turned around in a circle to make sure that nobody but Riley and I were listening.
"I'm trying to solve a mystery," I told her, "about the Bloodcurdling Beast."
"Bloodcurdling Beat, like the mythical creature?" Riley asked.
"No, just a statue of it."
"That waste of space?" She said with a guffaw. "Follow me."
She stood up and quickly ran up the spiral staircase, and I was right behind her while trying to catch my breath. I followed her up a few curves to a large room with a high ceiling and piles of junk that were almost as high. There were a few, large, dusty machines with cobwebbed cranks and buttons that probably hadn't been pressed for years. I noticed some tables with chairs stacked upon them and piles of crumbled paper shoved underneath the desks. You could tell that it had been a bustling room once, but now Riley and I were the only ones in it, and all that bustlingness was just a ghost.
"This is the newsroom," Riley informed me. "𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘔𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 was here on the waterfront and we were typing stories day and night. We'd develop photographs in the basement and reporters would type up stories in the lantern room. We'd also print the paper with black, new ink that was made on the same day, and we'd let the papers dry on the long hawser over there."
"Hawser?" I repeated while Riley walked to the window and opened it. Outside, hanging high over the trees, was a long, thick cable that ran straight down the hill toward the gleaming windows of the mansion that my chaperone and I just visited.
"It looks like that goes right down to the Trey's place," I noticed.
"The Wahalians and Treys have been good friends for many generations," Riley told me. "We got our water from the well on their property, and our science and garden reporters did research on their grounds. Our copy editor rented their guest cottage and we'd turn on the lighthouse lantern for midnight parties they liked to have. Of course, that's all gone now."
"Why?"
"There's not enough ink," Riley replied. "The industry is down to its last few schools of octopi. This whole town is fading, Ravon. there's a library, a police station, and a few other places open for business, but more than half of the buildings in the town are empty. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘔𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 had to shut down and most inkworkers have been fired. The train passes through once a month, and more and more people ride it. Soon, Murthorn Marine will be gone totally. My ma's got a job from the city and left us."
I paused for a moment to take in all the information. "When are you joining her?"
Riley looked quietly out the window for a few seconds. "As soon as I can," she told me with a sigh, and I realized that it had been the wrong thing to say.
"The Bloodcurdling Beast," I reminded her.
"Right," she replied as she walked over to a table covered in sheets. "The Bloodcurdling Beast was the mascot of the newspaper. Legend says that hundreds of years ago, Lady Wahalian took the Bloodcurdling Beast on one of her voyages-"
"Corlorown!" I faintly heard Shaniya yell to me from the bottom of the staircase. "Time to go!"
"Just a second!" I called back.
"Right this second, Corlorown!" Shaniya shouted. I decided to rebel against her and didn't leave right that second. I stayed as Riley drew back the sheet to reveal another table that was piled with items nobody wanted. The sea horse face of the Bloodcurdling Beast wasn't less hideous-looking the more I stared at it. There were two stuffed Bloodcurdling Beasts that you might give to your enemy's baby and a deck of cards with the Bloodcurdling Beast printed on the back. There was even a Bloodcurdling Beast cereal brand that I never heard of and would never want to eat.
Just then, I spotted it. It - Riley had called it a waste of space while Ms. Barbra Trey called it a priceless item. It was about the size of a box of oatmeal, shiny black in color, and said to have a value of a lot of money. It was the Bloodcurdling Beast, the statue that Ms. Barbra so dearly wanted, as dusty and forgotten as the rest of the items in the room.
"Corlorown!" Shaniya called again, but I didn't answer her. I spoke to the statue instead.
"Hello," I said. "What are you doing here?"
Riley looked at me and smiled. "I guess your mystery is solved, Ravon," she said, but that, too, was the wrong thing to say.