A/N: Thanks for the reviews, Xenitia, Leyapearl, SnowPrincess88, Max2013, Guest! I hope everyone's New Year was fun & happy! And yes, we'll be seeing more of Charlie!

# # #

# # #

Despite the Old Spice note, Joe couldn't wait for after school. Frank had called Bell Book and Candle from the school office, had told Mrs. Bell they'd be there, then had called Aunt Gertrude to let her know the brothers would be late coming home. Now it was just a matter of waiting out the rest of the day and trying not to fidget. Everything dragged along, even Science, though Mr. Mack went over the physics of flying reindeer and what Santa would have to do to travel the whole world in one night.

"Angel poop," Joe mouthed, towards Kris in the back; he'd noticed her and Sharon glaring at Angie. Hopefully he could distract Kris before she had any kind of meltdown.

Mr. Mack paused by Joe's desk. "Pardon me?"

Uh-oh. Think fast. "I was just thinking," Joe said. "I mean, reindeer are pretty big animals, and Santa doesn't leave any evidence behind, right? So how does he get rid of the…um…?"

"Reindeer poop," Mr. Mack said, and the class laughed.

"Yeah," Joe said, all innocence. "And the North Pole's just ice, so what happens with Santa's toilets? They have to eat, so I guess they buy the food, but it's all water under the ice, and since it's below freezing, the poop wouldn't decompose too well…"

Mr. Mack's mouth was twitching. "I must admit, Joe," he said finally, "having you in my class has been a real experience. Okay, people, he's brought up a great problem. Let's start brainstorming."

Disaster averted. Joe heaved a sigh of relief, as next to him, Tony snickered, and the class started trying to solve the problem of Santa's toilets.

But, after class, hearing from Kris what had happened with that retarded kid, Tina, though…Joe wanted to punch Angie out, girl or no girl. Poor Tina couldn't help that she'd been born that way. Ignoring her would've been bad enough, and Angie could just've kept quiet about the whole thing, but to tell Tina that awful stuff to her face?

Weird, though. Hearing what Kris had done — giving Tina her Secret Santa crystal — made Joe feel good, too. Proud of her, in some weird way. Luckily, Sharon hadn't taken it bad, since it had been Sharon's gift, though Kris didn't know that; Sharon had seemed just as angry as Kris was.

Fine. If that…that…witch…Angie was going to act like that, then Joe would help Kris make up for it. He couldn't short Iola, not without an explanation that would start Iola making googly-eyes at him, but someone like Tina would probably be happy with simple stuff like cookies and candy.

So…a bit of charm and fast-talk Aunt Gertrude, and that retarded girl would be the happiest kid at Bayport Middle School. Joe would make sure of that.

Finally, finally, the last bell rang in History. Joe shoved his books in his locker, bundled up in his Red Sox coat, gloves and hat while Frank waited next to his locker.

"You don't have to walk me home." Kris came up and opened her locker, just as Joe was finishing up. "Sharon said she'll wait for me. She's coming over tonight. We don't know about Tina yet."

In the excitement of the impending mystery, Joe had forgotten about Kris's tutoring. He and Frank normally waited for her and did their homework until she was done, so they could all walk home together. But…oh, right…Sharon had mentioned something about going to Kris's place earlier.

"Going to talk about ghosts?" Frank said.

"Witches," Kris said, without a trace of a smile.

"Tag, it's Christmas, not Halloween," Joe said, grinning. Maybe the best gift he could've given her: a new friend.

"Tell that to Stewart Farrar," Kris said. "It's icky."

"Wait 'til Mr. Mack gets to dissecting frogs," Frank said.

"I don't see why anyone would want to be a witch." Kris made a face. "It's all about getting naked and stuff."

Silence.

"That might be the grown-up reason right there," Frank said, deadpan.

"Ugh," Joe said. "Where did you learn that at?"

"New book. The author interviewed a real witch in England, and the witch told him everything about it." Kris hefted her book bag over her shoulder. "And yes, Frank, you can borrow it when I'm done."

Mar never restricted Kris's reading and didn't forbid any of the books in her house to Frank and Joe, either. It had caused friction between Mar and Aunt Gertrude over some of those books, until Dad had stepped in solidly on Mar's side. But reading about people just getting naked? Boring. Joe shook his head. Why would Frank want…

"I'll come over your house to read it," Frank said, grinning, and Joe rolled his eyes at his brother. He should've guessed: witches were girls, after all. Frank was getting more and more interested in girls and all that adult stuff. Joe couldn't see why — just because girls got fatter in the chest? — but Frank kept telling him he'd understand when he got older.

Still, reading that book over Kris's place — probably a good idea, boring or not. Aunt Gertrude would go ballistic if she caught Frank with it.

"Tell Mrs. Bell I said hi," Kris said as she shut her locker, and Frank and Joe grinned at each other.

Snow was falling thick and fast when they walked out and down the school steps. Joe grinned up at the sky, letting the snow hit his face. Perfect, just too perfect.

"What was that about Tina?" Frank said. "That's the retarded girl in your class, right?"

Good feeling gone. With a sigh, Joe told him what Kris had said, and by the time he finished, Frank's expression matched his.

"That went beyond mean," Frank said.

"Tell me about it." Joe kicked at a rock. "And you should've heard math class — Angie called Kris my 'ugly girlfriend', just because she thanked me for a Santa gift."

"Her whole family's stuck-up," Frank said. "Her dad's that rich lawyer."

"It gets worse." Joe pulled out the card that had been with the Old Spice.

Frank's breath hissed in when he saw the writing.

"I didn't show Kris," Joe said. "I was going to show Dad."

"Joe, I don't think Angie wrote this."

"C'mon, she had to. Calling Kris my girlfriend?" Joe couldn't keep the indignation out of his voice. Kris was his friend and everything, but how anyone could think Joe was into all that gooey girl stuff…

"You're just assuming the card's referring to Kris. Angie didn't call Kris that until math class, according to you. After you saw the note, right? And how would Angie have gotten in your locker? Only me and Kris have the combination, and we wouldn't tell her."

And Sharon, but that made no sense, either. Joe scowled. "That means either you or Kris did it. You wouldn't. And Kris…"

"Yeah, that really makes no sense." Frank was silent a moment as they walked. "When Angie's crowd broke into Kris's locker, they forced the hinges."

"I didn't see anything like that." Joe shook his head. "It's like one of Tag's magic tricks, but I can't see her doing this. Maybe someone asked her to leave it for them, but I can't see her telling anyone she knows my combination."

"Unless she's trying to give you another mystery as a gift." Frank scowled at the card. "This looks like a guy's writing. Girls don't write like this. Even Kris doesn't."

Giving him another mystery…Joe scowled again. "So maybe she got Chet or Tony to do it." Chet and Tony were the only two guys of the brothers' friends that Kris didn't have problems with: Chet because he was so totally unthreatening, and Tony because of his baby sister and large, chaotic Italian family who enveloped everyone in warmth, welcome, and food.

"Using that language?" Frank's scowl deepened. "I don't think so. I really can't see Kris using that word. Not to you."

Well… "Frank, Sharon knows my combination, too. I gave it to her so she could leave Santa stuff for Kris…"

"Sharon? That makes even less sense — oh. If someone gave her the package to leave, you mean."

"She said she didn't see them," Joe said.

The brothers walked in silence for a long moment, boots crunching on snow and ice. "The only solution I keep coming back to," Frank said, even slower, with that 'thinking' look on his face, "is that Kris did leave it, for another mystery. Maybe she was trying to sound evil, like a real criminal. She might've been using words she heard her original parents use."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"Me, neither."

The walk to Bayport's town square was cold and damp, and despite their coats and scarves, both Joe and Frank were snow-covered and shivering by the time they got to Bell Book and Candle. More snow was on the way, definitely; Joe could taste it in the air.

They stood in the entryway a few minutes, brushing snow off and stomping their boots so they wouldn't track snow all over the tile. Mrs. Bell was at the cash register; she looked up at the jangle of the bell and smiled over at the boys. A line of customers were waiting to check out.

"Hot chocolate's there, boys," she called, nodding at the table near the counter. She placed two mugs, a bag of marshmallows, and a box of candy canes within reach of the carafes and hot plates. "Help yourselves. I'll be with you as soon as Martha's back."

It didn't take long. The marshmallows were only slightly gooey by the time Mrs. Bell's daughter came back and took over; Mrs. Bell laughed as she saw Joe's mug, hung with three candy canes and piled with four marshmallows.

"Scamp. Luckily your brother and dad buy enough that I could feed you candy canes for a year and still have plenty left for marshmallows." Mrs. Bell smiled at Frank, who'd accumulated a stack of four books — which would have to wait until after Christmas. Dad enforced a no-buying-books-except-for-gifts on Frank to make sure that he didn't buy something he'd get as a gift. "Let's take this to the back. Frank, are those gifts, or for your wish list?"

Frank sighed. "Wish list."

"I suspect someone's going to spend all of January reading," Mrs. Bell said, as she led them to the stockroom. "I heard Santa had his elves building bookshelves for you."

At that, Frank perked up; Joe made a face. Joe couldn't naysay Mrs. Bell, though. He had his gifts for Frank currently on hold with her, so Frank wouldn't find them at home.

The stockroom was small and cozy; it used to be the kitchen when old Mr. Gardner had owned the place. Almost all of the store's stock was on the shelves the moment it came in, but Mrs. Bell sometimes got more copies of a book than she had space for. The room was lined with shelves, the wood floor covered with a thick blue rug, a worn couch, a battered desk and the heavy iron safe. Along the back wall sat the fridge, an old gas stove, cupboards. Sometimes the whole store smelled of pot roast, chowder, or spaghetti sauce, especially during the Christmas season, when Mrs. Bell stayed at the store all hours.

Mrs. Bell gestured them to the couch and sat at the desk. "Did Kris tell you what was going on?"

"Only that stuff was missing, ma'am," Frank said.

"It was cool," Joe said. "She did these envelopes like Mission Impossible and they even self-destructed when we read them — uh — sorry." Mrs. Bell was vocal about her dislike of TV.

Shaking her head, Mrs. Bell clucked her tongue. "Well, it's not that drastic. Things have been going missing around here, things we can't explain. Books — that's the biggest worry — markers, a transistor radio. My staff mug, from this room. Brown-bag lunches, a couple times. A box of Christmas decorations, and some of the ones we've put out have gone missing, too. Our petty cash box disappeared this weekend, and we still haven't found it."

"Shoplifters?" Frank said.

Mrs. Bell shook her head. "Ordinarily I'd agree with you, but these are books that normally aren't targeted by shoplifters. Usually that's paperbacks, light and easy to carry. Something that someone can tuck under their jacket and walk out with. These…" She hesitated.

"Have you called the police?" Joe said.

"I'm not sure what I'd tell them," Mrs. Bell said. "There's no sign of anyone having broken in. The doors are all locked. I can't be sure it's not one of us simply misplacing some of the items, or maybe even a shoplifter, but this doesn't fit either of those patterns."

"You said the books aren't those normally taken by shoplifters…?" Frank said.

Mrs. Bell nodded. "Several out of the Religion section, if you can believe that. We had a big, gorgeous coffee-table book on the Book of Kells — gone."

"I remember that one," Frank said. "I was going to get that for Kris, because it looks like one of her fairy-tale books…but it's gone?"

Joe whistled. That had been a huge book, easily the size of a TV tray, with full-color, glowing pictures of ancient illuminated manuscripts. Kris normally had a real problem with church stuff, but she and the brothers had all ooh'd and ahh'd over that particular book when it'd come in last month at the store.

"It wasn't bought," Mrs. Bell said. "I would've remembered, and it would've been marked off on the stock list. I've gone over the whole store and had my staff on the lookout for it — nothing. There's Bibles missing, too. Other odd books, from other sections. 'Piecemeal' is the best way I can put it."

Joe and Frank looked at each other. Joe hadn't expected something like this — this was a real mystery!

"Here's the odd thing," Mrs. Bell said. "Sometimes the books have come back. We'll find them behind the counter, with the returns to be re-shelved, and I know I didn't put them there. Martha claims she didn't, and I can't see why my other people wouldn't simply tell me."

"Maybe they want to borrow them," Joe said.

"No. We have a loan policy. Anyone on staff can keep any book in the back room to read." Mrs. Bell smiled at Joe's expression. "Young man, anyone who works in a book store loves books. How else do we stay familiar with our stock unless we read it?"

"Other stuff's missing, too, Joe," Frank said. "How much was in the cash box?"

"Twenty five, maybe thirty dollars. No more than that. The transistor radio was always up front, under the register. The markers were a brand-new box — we'd bought two boxes of them, in fact, to make new posters for the windows, and one disappeared from the bag. We hadn't even opened the boxes yet." She sighed.

"How long has this been going on?"

"We started noticing it the last week or so," Mrs. Bell said. "At least, noticing that it's a problem. Anything before that…" She reddened, just a little. "You might have heard stories about our resident ghost. Well…we just chalked any oddities up to Mr. Bell, before."

Joe had heard the story in lots of spooky detail from Kris. Mr. Bell had died in the Korean War and supposedly haunted the store, someone watching the customers, someone who'd vanish if you turned to look at him directly. Ghosts being impossible aside, Joe had no idea why Mr. Bell would haunt someplace he'd never been; his wife hadn't bought the building until after he'd died.

"Ma'am, I've got an idea," Frank said. "Maybe Joe and I could spend the night here in the store. Over the weekend, I mean, not a school night."

Mrs. Bell smiled. "Of course, getting to spend the night in a book store has nothing to do with it."

Frank shook his head. "No, ma'am. Maybe whoever's doing it is stealing the stuff in broad daylight, but I don't think so, not with you and Martha and everyone always around the counter and in sight of the door. They'd have to be getting in here at night, when no one's around."

"Huh." Mrs. Bell studied Frank for a long moment.

"If we do that," Joe said, grinning; Mrs. Bell could eyeball Frank as long as she wanted — Frank was a master of the blank face, "I say we have Kris with us. Give her a camera and she can do a ghost hunt…um…and help us watch the store," he added when Mrs. Bell turned that look on him. "She's so little, she can hide real easy. The thief wouldn't expect that."

"If it was anyone but you and Joe, I'd ordinarily say 'no' outright," Mrs. Bell said to Frank. "Since it is you two, it is a good plan. But…if Kris is involved, I do have to say no. Two boys, one girl. It's not proper. I know she's like your sister and all, but still."

"We can leave Kris out of it," Frank said, giving Joe a quick glare.

Kris had just given them this awesomely cool Christmas gift, a real mystery to solve…and now, an opportunity for a ghost hunt? It was too good a gift in return for Joe to let it go. "How about if we get another girl with us? To chaperone?"

"Well…" Mrs. Bell said slowly. "I guess. It depends on the girl."

"I don't think Callie would," Frank said, but Joe shook his head.

"Not Callie. Or Iola," he added quickly, in case Frank got ideas. "Sharon." Frank's face lit up, and Joe grinned. "Sharon Anderson," Joe said, to Mrs. Bell. "She's Kris's friend, and her mom's a deacon at First United. Would that make it okay?"

Mrs. Bell nodded. "I know her. She's another good customer." She thought a moment. "Very well. That would be fine. Call me once you have permission from your parents, and we can arrange things for Friday night."