“We haven’t tranquilized you,” Ziggy said, opening his coat enough to flash a pistol.
“We’re here to help,” Victor said steadily.
“What can it hurt?” Lindy said. “It’s been some time. We last saw him in March. March twelfth.”
Nate glanced at her. For somebody who had forgotten her identity, she sometimes had an uncanny memory.
Ziggy gave a nod. “Makes sense. He didn’t want to interfere in your lives more than necessary. John went missing a month ago. He was last seen not far from here. But you never heard from him? No final message?”
Nate shook his head. “Nothing since March.”
Ziggy and Victor shared a look. Victor faced the kids. “John would be angry with us for asking, but would you be willing to help us find him?”
“Yes,” Nate said. “As long as you’re really his friends.”
Ziggy gave Nate a measuring stare. “Good answer. You’re smart to be cautious.” He held out a business card. Nate accepted it.
“You kids spend time with Sebastian Stott,” Victor said.
“Let him have a look at that card. If we check out, come to Schwendiman’s All-You-Can-Eat Buffet tomorrow at noon. We’ll talk more then.”
Chapter Two
Advice
Nate and the others accompanied Lindy home to the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. She lived with Mr. Stott in the apartment above the store. By the time they arrived it was almost dark.
The shop had recently closed, but Lindy had a key. The interior looked much the same as when Mrs. White had run the business. Tables and chairs with chrome legs were arranged on a black and white checkerboard floor. A vast assortment of candy both familiar and exotic crowded the shelves behind the long, L-shaped counter. None of the magical candy was on display. All supernatural treats were stored in the back.
Lindy led the way to the stairs and up to the apartment. She opened the door and called, “Dad!”
Sebastian Stott came into view, wearing a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows. Underneath his coat was a blue T-shirt with a picture of a frowning stick figure. The words FEED ME were printed beneath. Mr. Stott’s neatly trimmed beard had two thick, dark streaks interrupting the silver. His eyebrows were a bit unruly. Despite his age, he was robust, with a hearty voice and searching eyes.
“Hello, Lindy,” Mr. Stott greeted with grandfatherly warmth. He looked at the others. “I wasn’t expecting all of you. How did the experiment go?”
“Moon Rocks won,” Summer said. “Peak Performance took second, Ironhides third.”
“Hard to beat jumping down a mountain,” Mr. Stott said. “Is everyone all right?”
“We had some visitors,” Nate said, handing over the business card. “They said they know John Dart. I guess he’s missing.”
Mr. Stott studied the card. He held it up to a light and squinted at it from varying distances. Then he gave the kids a long stare. “The Battiato brothers have quite a reputation.”
“Are they on our side?” Trevor asked.
“They’re certainly on John’s side,” Mr. Stott answered. “All magicians are a little wary of their kind.”
“They’re policemen like John?” Nate asked. “Policemen for magicians?”
“That’s how they see it,” Mr. Stott said. “Not all such operatives wield their authority as responsibly as others. I could tell you some stories. But yes, the Battiatos work for Mozag. I’ve never met them, but this card bears markings that confirm their legitimacy. What did they want?”
“They want us to help them find John,” Summer said.
Mr. Stott nodded vaguely. “I had heard that John went missing.”
“You heard?” Pigeon exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t want to upset you,” Mr. Stott replied. “And frankly, I didn’t want you involved. It isn’t safe. These thugs should be ashamed for asking children to do their dirty work.”