As Mrs. Masters woke up the next morning, she heard some sort of high-pitched whining and beeping somewhere near her. At first, she assumed it was simply the twittering of the birds outside her window. But if it was the birds, they were twittering very loudly. Come to think of it, she'd never heard any bird chip at such a high-pitch. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure the birds were making those unusual noises. Nor was she so sure that they were coming from outside, either. Now that she was more awake, she was quite certain they were inside the house.
"Penelope!"
Her bedroom door swung open and there stood Bertrand with a mixture of outrage and panic all over his face.
"Penelope!" he repeated, "I tried to get them to leave, but the fat man won't listen to me!"
"Bertrand, what the hell are you talking about?" Mrs. Masters demanded, "Get who to leave? What fat man? And where are those wretched noises coming from?"
"It's Star! Star did it! She- Oh! Come see!"
She slipped on a scarlet silk robe over her nightgown and followed him down the hall and into Samantha's bedroom. She widened her eyes in surprise as she saw three new people: two young women and a large middle-aged man. Each person held some strange beeping and whining mechanical device in their hands and were waving them around in the air.
"You see!" Bertrand shouted as he pointed them, "You see!"
Mrs. Masters shoved him aside and stepped into room, clearing her voice and addressing them in a stern tone.
"Excuse me!"
They all turned to her. The two women scowled at her, but the large man stood up straight and saluted her.
"Don't worry, ma'am," he said in an authorative voice, "We heard about your missing bride and I assure you, we'll get her back safe and sound!"
"Pardon me, but who exactly are you and what are you doing in my house!"
"We're Fenton Works!" he exclaimed with pride, "I'm Jack Fenton and these are my two daughters, Jasmine and Danielle Fenton!"
"Fenton?" Mrs. Masters gave him a quizzical look before turning to the women. They rolled their eyes and returned to their work.
"That's right, ma'am!" Jack continued, "And we're here to locate Ms. Samantha Manson and return her right back here at home!"
"What in the world is going on?" Pamela stood next to Mrs. Manson with Jeremy right behind her, "What's this about finding Samantha? She finally decided to show up?"
"Good morning, ma'am!" Jack turned to her, "Jack Fenton from Fenton Works at your service!"
"Is he the new minister?" Pamela asked Mrs. Masters.
"No ma'am!" he answered, "My daughters and I are here to locate the missing bride! We'll get her back home to her groom! Don't you worry about your little darling!"
He roughly gave a playful nudge with his elbow into Bertrand's chest, nearly knocking the much smaller man over.
"Ow!" he cried, rubbing at his ribs, "I'm not the groom, you idiot! I'm the butler!"
"The butler, eh?" Jack suddenly became suspicious of the man and crossed his arms, "And just exactly where were you when Ms. Manson disappeared, what you were doing, and why were you doing it?"
"What?! Now see here-!"
"Ma'am, may I have a word with you?" he leaned closer to Mrs. Masters and whispered, "I don't want to startle you, ma'am, but I find that when mysterious things start happening, the butler is usually responsible!"
"Father," the red-headed woman sighed, "For the last time, wil you stop it with 'the butler did it' theory?"
"What!" Bertrand exclaimed in outrage, "Why, I never-!"
"I've known Bertrand for almost twenty-five years!" Mrs. Masters shoved Jack away from her, "And I know that he is most certainly not responsible for Samantha's disappearance!"
"Samantha's still missing?" Pamela shouted angrily, "That girl! I swear! Listen, it's rather kind of you for you people to help out, but that foolish girl is just playing a practical joke!"
"You see, Father," now it was the dark-haired girl's turn to speak, "I told you that this wasn't serious!"
"Precisely," Mrs. Masters agreed, "Now I must insist that all of you leave right now!"
"Now, ma'am," Jack chided as he shook his head, "I quite understand your reluctance to accept the situation, but girls simply don't disappear into thin air."
"One did five years ago," the red-head muttered under her breath, causing her sharply turn her head and glare at her.
"Which can only mean that something took her. Something not human."
"What?" Mrs. Masters asked as everyone stared at Jack.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, ma'am, but Ms. Manson was taken by some paranormal force. A ghost, to be more exact!"
"You've got to be kidding me," Pamela muttered as her scowl returned, "My daughter was kidnapped by a ghost?"
"Fortunately, Star managed to get us as soon as possible, so there's still a chance to get Ms. Manson back!"
"Star found you, did she?" Mrs. Masters looked towards the staircase with an evil look.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Bertrand cast a glare at Jack before marching down the staircase with a harrumph.
"Where is Star, anyway?" Mrs. Masters continued.
"We left her in the parlor with some old woman," the red-head answered.
"Now, if you'll excuse us, ma'am," Jack stooped to the floor with his shrilly beeping device, "We need to continue our investigation!"
Mrs. Masters down the staircase as Pamela attempted yet again to convince the fat man he was mistaken and that Samantha was playing a game. Mrs. Masters really wasn't paying much attention to the argument. She had a more important matter to investigate herself.
"Star!" she shouted as she marched into the parlor.
The maid was busy dusting the furniture while the old woman was working with some needle-point in her lap. At the sound of her name, the maid stopped dusting the lamp she was occupied with and turned to her employer, awaiting her orders.
"Star!" Mrs. Masters shouted again, crossing her arms, "Where did you find those people?"
"Oh, you mean the investigators? Well, I got worried about Ms. Manson last night. I mean, who would run away from Dashiel?"
"Plenty of people, dearie, " Ida replied.
"I mean, I'd marry him myself if I could! So I hired them! I know you told me not to go to the police, so I thought going to some investigators would be okay."
"That doesn't answer my question. Where did you find them last night?"
"Is something wrong, dearie?" Ida looked up from her work.
"Yes, something is wrong, you old halfwit! There's a bumbling oaf knocking about upstairs who is absolutely convinced this house is haunted by some sort of evil spook!"
"But you are haunting it, dearie."
"Shut up! Now, where did you find them!"
"Oh, they were a long way off, all the way in Wisconsin. It took me all night to get them here. But after I saw their advertisement in the newspaper, I just knew that they would be perfect! So I think it was a night well spent!"
Mrs. Masters held her hand, "Let me see that advertisement!"
Star reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper that she had cut out from yesterday.
Are things levitating into the air? Have you heard ghostly wails that shake your house? Has anything or anyone vanished without a trace? When there's something strange in your neighborhood, who are you going to call? Call Fenton Works: Paranormal Investigators!
"You nitwit!" Mrs. Masters shouted, making the maid flinch, "These aren't investigators! They're paranormal investigators!"
"Paranormal?" repeated the girl, "You mean like parakeets? They look for missing parakeets?."
"Has anyone ever told you that you and Dashiel would be perfect together, dearie?"
"Mrs. Masters?" Bertrand entered the room, "There's a young couple outside demanding that we return some horse. I have no idea what they're talking about."
"Oh, for god's sake," Mrs. Masters muttered as she sulked towards the front door.
She saw an angry young couple just as Bertrand had said. The blonde man she didn't recognize, but the Latina girl looked familiar. Upon seeing her, the girl widened her eyes in shock and immediately turned red. Her scowl returned and she turned her head to stare at the ground.
"Paulina!" Mrs. Masters recognized her former employee and then smiled sweetly, "Paulina Sanchez?"
"Paulina Thirteen, now," the girl muttered.
"Oh! Well congratulations! I hope you're doing well, darling."
"Yes," she muttered, "No thanks to you."
"Yeah, yeah," Paulina's husband interrupted, "Happy reunion. Now where's my horse!"
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Masters blinked, "What horse?"
"My horse that some fat idiot stole and rode all the way here!"
Mrs. Masters sighed. This was going to be a long day.
