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    Murder House: Book Three in the Murder House Trilogy
    Murder House: Book Three in the Murder House Trilogy
    Murder House: Book Three in the Murder House Trilogy
    Ebook142 pages2 hours

    Murder House: Book Three in the Murder House Trilogy

    By Franklin W. Dixon

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook


    ATAC Briefing for Agents Frank and Joe Hardy

    MISSION: To finally get to the bottom of the ongoing deadly scares taking place on the set of the reality TV show Deprivation House.

    LOCATION: A huge villa in Beverly Hills, CA, without a single luxury left inside.

    POTENTIAL VICTIMS: Every contestant on the reality show is in extreme danger.

    SUSPECTS:It's possible one of the new contestants has a devious agenda, or else someone who's been there all along is hiding a huge secret.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAladdin
    Release dateJan 24, 2012
    ISBN9781442453470
    Murder House: Book Three in the Murder House Trilogy
    Author

    Franklin W. Dixon

    Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys books.

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      Book preview

      Murder House - Franklin W. Dixon

      Sabotage

      I figured the wheels of my Suzuki RM-Z450 had to be smoking as I wove through the orchard. But I didn’t let up on the throttle. I had the lead, and I didn’t want to lose it.

      I broke out of the trees and into the field behind the tennis courts. Mounds of dirt were heaped up all across it. I could maneuver the bike around them. But I’d lose time.

      The three mounds almost dead ahead weren’t so much different from the triple jump at Highland Park. I’d taken that one lots of times.

      Okay, this hill was a little higher, I decided as I started up it. I heard at least one bike coming up behind me. Fast. I moved into attack position. Standing on the dirt bike’s pegs. Knees tightened around the tank. My elbows up and out.

      Yeah, this hill was definitely higher than the first of the triple back home. I kept an even throttle as I approached the top. Here it came. I was about to go airborne.

      Stay low over the jump, I reminded myself. It would buy me a few extra seconds. Not much. But a few seconds could be the difference between winning and losing. I was undercover as a reality show contestant, and that meant I should want to win more than anything. Somebody on the show wanted to win so badly he or she had sent death threats to all of the contestants.

      As my bike came off the top of the hill, I pushed down on the right footpeg and pulled up on the left side of the handlebars. The bike laid out flat. Nice. The move had stopped the upward motion of the jump. That’s where I picked up the extra seconds.

      I got on the throttle right before I hit ground to help the rear suspension take the impact of landing. Solid. Now I had to—

      My strategy was worthless. A rider came over the hill behind me kamikaze style, lost control of their ride, and slammed into my back wheel.

      We both went down. And another bike was just going airborne. There was no time to do anything but curl my body into a protective ball. I felt the bike’s heat on the top of my head as it cleared me. Next time I might not be so lucky.

      I scrambled to my feet and saw that it was Georgina who’d taken me out. Come on, we’ve got to get out of the way before someone else takes the jump!

      I grabbed my bike by the handlebars, got it up, then ran it down the side of the hill, out of the path of the most direct route to the grocery shelves at the end of the field. That’s what this race was. A contest to see who could get the groceries on their list back to the mansion first.

      Are you okay? I asked Georgina.

      She pulled off her helmet. Yeah. But the bike’s messed up, she answered.

      I don’t know if mine got damaged or not, I said.

      No, I mean mine was messed up before. The brakes stopped working, Georgina told me. She slapped the seat of her bright purple Kawasaki.

      The dirt bikes we were using for the race were brand-new. That could mean only one thing.

      Sabotage.

      Everybody Has Secrets

      Everyone, everyone! Please gather round, Veronica called from her spot on the patio near the large fountain. She backed up a step as we headed toward her. I’m sure she was afraid we’d contaminate her. We were all sweaty and dirt smeared and grass stained.

      Veronica was perfumed and nail painted and color coordinated in her pale blue suit and pale blue spike heels. She should have looked like TV Host Barbie in all that perfect, with her white-blond hair smoothed back into one of those knot things that aren’t buns but that I don’t have the words to actually describe, having only one X chromosome.

      But the smile she gave the group was pure, lipstick-coated nastiness. You’d never see Barbie looking so eeevil. And enjoying it so much.

      First, I want to announce the winner of this competition. She paused. Of course. When Deprivation House actually aired, there would probably be a commercial break right here. Brynn Fulgham got her groceries home before the rest of you. That means she will be deciding the next deprivation.

      Don’t take away toiletries! Ripley called. Ripley Lansing was the group’s celebrity, although she was only famous for having famous—and rich—parents. The boys smell bad enough now that they hardly ever shower. We won’t survive if they lose deodorant privileges!

      Who can shower when there’s no hot water anymore? Gail protested. Gail’s parents definitely weren’t rich. So not rich they didn’t always have enough money to pay the heating bill. Sometimes Gail had to go to bed in her coat to stay warm.

      All the girls still shower, Ripley shot back.

      I don’t care about deodorant or shampoo or any of that. I just want to be able to keep my drawing supplies, Hal said. Hal was always drawing plans for the planet around which he planned to design a computer game.

      I tried to figure out what Joe Carr would want most. That was my cover. A rich boy from Connecticut, adopted by a different family from my brother, Frank Dooley. It was hard to come up with anything. We’d already lost cell phones, iPods, junk food.

      Brynn, I’m begging you. Think of the odor, Ripley pleaded.

      Now, now. It’s Brynn’s decision, Veronica reminded everyone. And she doesn’t need to make it until tomorrow night. Right now, I want to take some time for us all to get to know one another a little better.

      I know these losers as well as I want to, James Sittenfeld told her. I’ve been trapped in the house with them for almost a month.

      We had been spending almost all our time together since our first day as contestants on Deprivation House, a reality show where teenagers saw how long they could last without luxury items. The network probably thought it would be fun for old folks to laugh at the younger generation freaking out because they were unable to go online, watch TV, text message, and talk on the cell at the same time.

      Still, I wouldn’t mind learning some more about the other kids in the house. They were all suspects. See, my brother and I weren’t really contestants. That was just our cover. We were actually here on an assignment for American Teens Against Crime, an organization our dad helped found. ATAC puts teens undercover in places where adult operatives would stick out too much. Like on a reality show where all the contestants are kids. Get me?

      Frank and I ended up here because all the contestants had received death threats. And since we’d shown up, a lot of nasty things had been happening. Some people had even died. None of them contestants. At least not yet.

      So that’s why I was up for finding out as much as possible about every kid in the house. Although I’ve got to say, if James wasn’t a suspect and was just some guy, I’d be happy to never learn another thing about him. Like last night, I found out he clips his toenails—with his teeth. I already knew he was maniacally competitive, and a bully. But I’m not biased or anything. Detectives have to keep open minds. And I’m a detective. Just because James is your basic rat dropping in human form doesn’t mean he’s a killer.

      George and Georgina only joined us very recently, and I thought some of you might be curious as to why they were allowed to join our game so late, Veronica continued.

      To get ratings, Olivia muttered.

      Veronica pretended not to hear her. The truth is, I got a letter from their father asking me to consider allowing them to come to Deprivation House. It was so touching that the network and I just couldn’t say no. She gave a sweet smile. And when she smiles like that, somebody’s about to get sucker punched.

      Let me read it to you, Veronica went on. I did a face check on George and Georgina. Not happy. And not happy. I miscalculated. Make that two somebodys were going to get a Veronica smackdown. She began:

      "Dear Ms. Wilmont, I saw a commercial for your upcoming show, Deprivation House, and I had to write to you. You and your house may be the last hope for my fifteen-year-old twins, George and Georgina. All their lives, their mother and I have given them everything they’ve asked for. As an example, for their last birthday, they received a trip to Maui with eight of their friends, Georgina received a Tennessee walking horse, and George an Escalade, in addition to thousands of dollars’ worth of smaller presents.

      "It would have been our pleasure to give our children these gifts. We want them to enjoy all life has to offer. But they don’t seem to understand that not everyone has the privileges they do. They have no concept of the work that has gone into earning the money to pay for their lifestyle. They show no appreciation. They show almost no awareness that a horse or a car are any different from the air or the ground, something that is simply there at any time for their use.

      "That’s why I’m begging you to make them a part of your show. Not so they have a

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