Free Secrets at the Chocolate Mansion by Leslie Margolis

that’s his name. I can’t really keep track.” She brushed her bangs off her face and rolled her eyes. “I’m so bad with names. In fact, I’m bad with faces, too.”
    â€œBut he just brought us hot chocolate. And he’s the only other employee here. The only one you’re not related to, that is.” I couldn’t believe I had to point this out.
    Felicity turned bright red. “That’s true. I guess I do know who you’re talking about, but I hardly know him. I swear.”
    Felicity was a bad liar. Not only did she completely fumble her answer, but I had hard evidence proving the opposite of what she was saying. Yesterday at the opening she and Joshua were totally chummy. They spent the whole afternoon joking around and talking; even after the glass shattered they’d been laughing about something.
    So why was she pretending she didn’t know who he was now? It made no sense, unless she was hiding her relationship with him for some other reason. My mind raced as I tried to make the connections.
    Maybe Joshua was responsible for the picture-window destruction but Felicity didn’t realize it until today, which was why she was trying to distance herself from him now.
    Or maybe Felicity was responsible and she wastrying to frame Joshua somehow. Unless they were working together … But if it was just the two of them, how did they manage to break the window from the outside? And what could be their motive?
    â€œDid you hear about the salty pie?” I asked Felicity. “I’m wondering if maybe there’s a connection. Like, maybe the person who destroyed the window was working from inside the shop.”
    I noticed that Felicity was suddenly alert and staring straight at me. She had this funny expression on her face—a type of frozen fear, like a deer caught in the headlights.
    Maybe I was finally getting somewhere. I waited, watching.
    â€œThere’s no connection, I swear,” she said.
    â€œHow can you be so sure?” I asked.
    â€œBecause I did it,” Felicity blurted out, covering her face in her hands. “I mixed up the salt and sugar. I’m so sorry. It was ridiculous. It wasn’t just the pie you had that was ruined—I destroyed all ten of them. I feel so bad for my aunt Ricki, and I should’ve told her the truth yesterday but I was too embarrassed.”
    â€œI see,” I said, writing this down.
    â€œAre you going to tell Aunt Ricki?” Felicity asked.
    â€œUm, I don’t know,” I said. “Do you think I shouldn’t?”
    â€œI’m just too embarrassed about it,” said Felicity.She leaned in closer and whispered. “Do me a favor? Don’t say anything, and I’ll tell her in my own time.”
    â€œI don’t want to be a tattletale,” I said. “So I guess if it doesn’t come up, I won’t mention it. But if she asks me …”
    â€œSure, sure, sure,” said Felicity. “That totally makes sense. If she asks you, fine. But why would she? I’ll tell her eventually, I promise. Thanks, Maggie. You’re the best.” She jumped up and gave me a hug that smelled of vanilla perfume. “Okay, I’ve really gotta run. We’re supposed to open soon, and my aunt will be here any minute. She’s not going to be happy if things aren’t set up exactly the way she wants them.”
    Felicity was gone before I could ask her another question. I flipped through my notes, searching for any useful information, but couldn’t find any. Based on what I knew, it was not surprising that Felicity had mixed up the salt and sugar.
    But was she really just klutzy and awkward? Or was she hiding something?

Chapter 9
    Just then, a customer walked in through the door. Three customers, actually. Well, two adults pushing a red stroller with a dark-haired baby inside. “Are you open yet?” asked the mom.
    â€œNot yet,” said