Free Peril at Granite Peak by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

squeezed Toy Toy so tightly that the little dog squeaked and wiggled. “What if he’d fallen and hurt himself? It’s just too much!”
    She was getting so worked up I was afraid she might hyperventilate.
    â€œI’ll go look for Rick,” I told Mr. Gallagher. After all, I wanted to talk to the guy anyway. “Any idea where he might be?”
    Mr. Gallagher was still staring at the icy stairwell, looking troubled. “Saw him last over by the main stairs.”
    I nodded and looked at Joe. “Coming?”
    â€œRight behind you,” Joe replied. He gestured for Chet to stick with the others. Good idea. He could let us know what they said.
    Joe and I found Rick in the lobby near the main staircase. He was talking with Poppy, who looked worried.
    â€œ. . . and I’m pretty sure I left it on the bench by the picture window,” she was saying. “But when I remembered and went to get it, it wasn’t there.”
    â€œSomething missing?” Joe asked.
    Poppy nodded. “My MP3 player.”
    â€œBummer,” I said. Then I turned to Rick. “Mr. Gallagher needs you.”
    The man’s face was always kind of grim, but it went grimmer as I told him what had happened.
    â€œJust what we need,” he muttered. “I’ll take care of it. Better block the upstairs door first.”
    He rushed up the stairs, taking them three at a time. Joe and I followed.
    â€œThe upper flight of steps seemed okay,” Joe told the man as we hurried down the upstairs hallway. “You should be able to get a look from the landing.”
    I was barely listening. I’d just spotted someone reaching for the door of the back stairwell. Stanley!
    â€œStop!” I called. “Stanley, don’t go in there!”
    â€œHuh?” Stanley turned to stare as we raced up to him.
    â€œThis stairwell’s off-limits right now,” Rick said. “You can use the main stairwell instead.”
    Stanley frowned, looking stubborn. “But this one’s closer to my room,” he said. “Why’s it closed?”
    â€œIce on the stairs,” I said, figuring it was better to be straight with him. All we needed was for Stanley to have yet another accident.
    â€œYeah,” Joe confirmed. “I almost wiped out just now.”
    â€œWhat?” Stanley sounded horrified. “This is outrageous! I take these stairs all the time—I could have been killed! Again!”
    He glared around at all three of us, as if holding us personally responsible. Then he took off toward the other stairs, muttering angrily under his breath.
    Joe winced. “Just what the Gallaghers need.”
    â€œExactly what I was thinking.” I glanced at Rick. “You need our help?”
    Rick shook his head, reaching for the door. “Got it covered. Thanks.”
    Joe and I took off after Stanley. When we got downstairs, he was ranting and raving at Mr. and Mrs. Gallagher, who were in the lobby with Chet, Nate and Cassie, and the Richmonds. Josie was perched on an overstuffed sofa nearby, hugging her little dog and looking anxious.
    â€œ. . . and I’m starting to think someone’s trying to kill me!” Stanley was exclaiming. “There was the situation last night, and of course the problem on the slopes the other day—”
    â€œWait, what problem on the slopes?” Mrs. Gallagher broke in.
    Stanley looked surprised. “Didn’t your son tell you? I could have been badly injured!”
    As he dramatically described the incident, making it sound even worse than it was, Mrs. Gallagher gave her husband a worried look. I was surprised. Hadn’t he told her about the missing CLOSED sign?
    A moment later Rick came down the main stairs. He hurried over and whispered something in Mr. Gallagher’s ear.
    Mr. Gallagher’s expression went even darker, if possible. “The back stairwell is closed until further notice,” he