Free 08 The Magician's Secret by Carolyn Keene Page A

charge my phone. I turned down the screen’s brightness and muted thesound and did everything else I could think of to save power. I was waiting for a call from Ned or my dad—one I couldn’t risk missing.
    Because the box surfacing impacted John Smallwood, my dad and Ned were inside the courthouse waiting to be briefed. Until every shadow about Smallwood and Lonestar was brought to light, Dad’s client wouldn’t be let off the hook.
    Lonestar had refused an attorney the day before, but this was more serious. Now he had brought in his own lawyer. And it was none other than River Heights’ own Madeline Summers.
    Madeline was a tough nut who had worked with my dad on many cases. Though I wasn’t sure how Lonestar had found her, I had no doubt she’d give her all to Drake. The one thing about Madeline was that she worked alone. That meant she didn’t want to hear from any outside detectives—namely me. In the past, she’d made it crystal clear that I was to stay away from her clients. I was certain this would be no different. But just because Madeline Summers didn’t want mearound didn’t mean I would back down from my personal investigation.
    My phone rang.
    â€œNed?” I shouted as I stabbed the talk button. “What’s going on?”
    â€œThe police found the missing box in Lonestar’s hotel room at the Towering Heights Resort,” he said.
    â€œOh.” I’d assumed that was what happened. “And the gems?”
    â€œThe box is still sealed. The locksmith is on his way.”
    My shoulders dropped. This was the most exciting part of the investigation, and Madeline Summers would surely try to keep me out of the judge’s chambers. I’d be lucky if my dad and Ned were allowed in, since they weren’t Lonestar’s attorneys.
    â€œThe locksmith needs an escort into the building,” Ned told me. “Three escorts, actually. There are passes at the security desk for you, Bess, and George.”
    I was shocked. “I can’t believe Mrs. Summers would agree to let me anywhere near her client. How’d you do it?”
    â€œDo you believe in magic?” Ned asked. His voice had a light chuckle to it.
    â€œThat’s the question of the moment, isn’t it?” Even though he couldn’t see me through the phone, I smiled.
    â€œCome straight to the judge’s chambers,” Ned said, then hung up.
    The locksmith’s van was already pulling into the parking lot. We ran to meet the elderly man. He was wearing a suit that was frayed with age, but he had close-cut hair and a clean-shaven face. The sign on his truck read GALLOWAY GETS IT DONE .
    â€œYou’ll need a 505 wrench with a needle-nose tip for this one,” George told Mr. Galloway before we’d actually introduced ourselves.
    â€œReally?” he looked at her with a shocked expression. “You’ve seen this mystery box?”
    â€œNo,” George admitted. “I’m just saying that’s what I’d take if I were you.”
    â€œAll righty then.” He just shook his head as he grabbed that wrench plus a few others.
    â€œWe’re here to show you the way,” I said.
    â€œLead on,” Mr. Galloway replied.

    Judge Nguyen’s chamber was packed. In one corner there was the magician and his lawyer. In the other were my dad and Ned. Ned tipped his head to me when I entered with George, Mr. Galloway, and Bess.
    Judge Nguyen sat in her oversize leather chair, gazing at us all, with the mystery box on her desk.
    The box was made of the most beautiful polished wood I’d ever seen: red mahogany with thin ribbons of a lighter blond oak. Engraved into the sides and top were ornate swirls and designs that looked as if they came from India, with interlocking loops and flares. The depth of the carvings made the wood shine and shimmer, giving the effect that the wood itself was flowing like a river.
    I