The Candymakers and the Great Chocolate Chase Read online

  “Indeed it is, Mr. Dinkleman.” She pushed open the door, and they walked into the strangest house any of them had ever visited. Logan didn’t have much to compare it with, since he’d only been to maybe four other houses in his whole life, but he knew this was unusual. Philip hadn’t been inside many people’s houses, either, but he had stayed at a lot of hotels. Daisy and AJ were not easily surprised by anything, but even they couldn’t help turning in circles, trying to absorb it all. Miles literally had to hold on to a wall. His legs shook, and everywhere he looked, something amazing appeared. It was like the feeling he got when stepping into a bookstore, or a library, or a candy shop. Only multiplied by a hundred. He’d just stepped into a map-lover’s dream.

  Maps of every size, color, and dimension surrounded them. Paper maps hung on windowless walls; three-dimensional maps and globes sat on shelves and tables, and others hung, suspended by wires, from the ceiling. Miles could see maps of countries, cities, mythological worlds with made-up names; of palaces, gardens, and underground tunnels. His eyes landed on a giant full-color map, spread on the floor, of someplace called Smoranthia. In the center of it, islands with jagged coastlines dotted an ocean so vivid that Miles felt like he could swim in those turquoise waters. He knelt before it, his finger almost unconsciously tracing a journey around the islands and toward a mountain peak that rose majestically from the water.

  “Do you want to know how I made those islands?” a man’s voice asked from behind Miles. Immediately following the question, Miles heard his friends begin to talk all at once, almost shouting. But entirely unable to tear his focus away from Smoranthia, Miles made his head move up and down in response.

  “An old pipe broke and left some water stains on the ceiling tiles in the basement,” the man said with a chuckle. “I took down the tiles and traced the stains.”

  Miles stared at the coastlines of the utterly realistic islands, imagining them as simple water stains. “Brilliant,” he whispered reverently. He slowly turned around, expecting to see an older version of the man in the Opening Day photograph, the one who the computer couldn’t identify. Instead, he got another huge shock.

  He was looking at Henry—a thinner, taller, glasses-free Henry. He realized why his friends had been reacting so strangely. He scampered backward, knocking into things and trying desperately to right them while still moving. His backpack softened the blow as he slammed against a wall.

  “You’ll have to forgive the mess,” the man who was Henry—but not Henry—said. “I don’t get many visitors.”

  Maggie chuckled. “That’s an understatement. I was the first visitor. You guys are the second. Before you ask why it’s so cold in here, it protects the maps.”

  Daisy collected herself and stormed over to the man. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I thought you knew. I’m Frank Griffin.”

  She crossed her arms. “Then tell me, Frank Griffin, why is it that you look just like our friend Henry Jennings? Well, minus fifty pounds.”

  “Fifty pounds?” Frank said, shaking his head. “Henry should really cut down on those marshmallows.”

  “That’s what I said,” Philip called out.

  Daisy tapped her foot at the man. “Well?”

  “Henry’s my brother. My younger brother, to be more precise. People used to think he was the older one, though. He always wants to take care of people, you know?”

  “Yes,” Logan, Miles, and Philip said at the same time. Daisy ignored them and continued to look Frank up and down. Surprises on missions made her irritable. “Why the name change?” she asked. “Running from the law?”

  “Daisy!” Miles admonished.

  Frank chuckled. “That’s okay, it’s a fair question. When I was a kid and reading my fantasy books, I used to take on the names of the mythological creatures. I wanted a last name that would look cool on maps. Frank Griffin sounded better than Frank Pegasus.”

  Miles thought Frank Pegasus sounded even cooler, but he didn’t want to be rude by mentioning it.

  AJ stepped forward. “His change of name must be why the computer couldn’t find him, or Henry, for that matter. Maybe it couldn’t decide which was which. Plus neither of them got out much.” He looked around at the house. “Obviously.”

  Maggie suddenly clapped her hands and said, “All righty! Not sure what any of you are talking about, but let’s get this show on the road. We’ve got a lot of work to do. Frank told me you need him to update a map of your town or something? A school project, was it?”

  “Um…,” Logan said, stumped.

  Frank jumped in. He put his hand lightly on Maggie’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. We can continue cataloging the collection tomorrow.” He started leading her toward the door.

  “But there’s so much to do,” she insisted. “I need to finish sorting the road maps, and the climate maps are a mess, and you still won’t tell me if you have more in the basement, and—”

  “It’s all right,” he said, opening the front door. He grabbed her purse and sweatshirt from a hook on the wall and put them in her arms. “Thank you for your dedication, but it’ll all still be here in the morning.”

  She stood there, clutching her stuff. “But the museum is expecting me to—”

  He closed the door before she could finish. “She’ll be fine,” he assured them. “She works too hard anyway. Museums don’t pay nearly enough to have to deal with eccentric old cartographers like myself. Now, Logan, come, let me see you.”

  Logan hesitantly stepped forward. Frank knelt down and peered at Logan carefully. This close up, Logan could see subtle differences between the men—Henry’s skin had more of a pinkish tone to it, while Frank’s was tanner, with more wrinkles. His white hair didn’t stand up in the air quite as much as Henry’s. But still, the resemblance was freaking him out. He made a mental note to talk to Henry about leaving out important details of his life, like the fact that he had a brother. At least his crying over the letter made a little more sense now.

  “Are you and Henry in a fight or something?” Logan asked.

  “Why would you say that?” Frank asked, still peering at him like he was a specimen in a museum.

  “He was in the room when your box came, and when he saw it was from you, he started to cry. So I thought maybe you guys weren’t in touch or something. I don’t know. We’re confused about a lot of things.”

  Frank shook his head. “Henry and I aren’t in a fight. He cried because of what the letter meant.”

  “Didn’t it mean what it said?” Logan asked.

  “Yes, of course. But it also meant what it didn’t say.”

  Logan heard Daisy groan from the other side of the room. Her plan to let Frank explain things wasn’t going very well. Logan knew it wouldn’t be long before that plan went out the window. Before he could ask Frank to explain, Frank spoke again. “You don’t look as much like Sam as I’d heard.”

  Logan didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d never thought he looked much like his grandfather in the first place. But of course he hadn’t known him as a kid. Logan remembered the wig and yanked it off, along with the cap. “Not really blond,” he said.

  “Ah,” Frank said, clasping his hands together. “There’s my old friend!”

  Logan couldn’t help gloating a bit. “See, Daisy? The disguise worked.”

  “Nah, I knew it was a wig,” Frank said.

  “You did?”

  Frank nodded. “You three aren’t Scouts, either, I’d bet.”

  “How do you know that?” Philip said. He looked down at the badges on the sides of the vest he wore. “I may have just earned my wood-chopping badge.” He paused and twisted the vest to see it better. “Or my outdoor-survival badge.”

  “Did you, now?” Frank said. “Good! You may need that skill. Not the tree-chopping one.”

  Daisy finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Speaking of trees, Mr. Griffin,” she said, “I know you all promi