Mystery of the Runaway Ghost (7 page)

Amanda beamed. “We only display the very best.”

“Violet’s an artist, too,” said Benny proudly.

Amanda’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

Violet smiled shyly. “I
do
like to sketch and draw.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me.” Amanda bent down to rummage around beneath the counter. “I have some reading material you might find interesting, Violet.” Straightening up, she held out a handful of brochures. “You’ll find a ton of information about artists in these,” she said. “Please help yourself. They’re just cluttering things up around here.”

“Thank you!” Violet’s face lit up.

Everyone glanced through the brochures except Benny. He was too busy looking around at the other people in the gallery. The lady in the big straw hat was going out the door with the sketch Lottie drew of her. When she left, the art collector went over to Lottie and began to talk quietly.

Benny watched as Fran’s boarder listened to what the man was saying. She was pale and she looked upset. The man suddenly turned on his heel and started for the door. “Remember, it’s tonight or never!” he called back over his shoulder. Then he left.

“Did you hear that?” Benny whispered to Henry.

“Yes,” his brother answered. Jessie and Violet had heard it, too.

Lottie slumped down in her chair, her chin in her hands. She did not look happy. She sat very still for a moment. Then, as if feeling the children’s eyes on her, she looked up. The Aldens could tell by the look on her face that Lottie was startled to see them. In a flash, she was on her feet and out the door, leaving the children to stare after her.

The Aldens thanked Amanda and left the gallery.

Outside, they turned to one another. “That was very strange,” Benny said. “Lottie didn’t even say hi to us.”

“She’s acting very suspiciously,” Jessie added.

Henry agreed. “You’d think we’d just caught her in the middle of something she wanted to keep secret.”

“That man, Rally Jensen, said it was tonight or never,” Benny reminded them as they started back to Shadowbox. “I wonder what he meant by that.”

Henry shrugged. “There’s no way of knowing.”

“Do you think Lottie’s up to something?” Benny wondered.

“Yes,” Jessie answered with a quick nod. “We just don’t know what.”

“You can’t be sure of that, Jessie.” Violet didn’t like to think the young artist would do anything wrong. “Rally Jensen’s an art collector. For all we know, Lottie might be planning to show him some of her art before he leaves town.”

Jessie turned to her sister. “But, Violet, that doesn’t explain her reaction. Whatever that man was whispering, it seemed to really upset her.”

“It
is
suspicious,” Violet admitted. “But I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Jessie said, backing down a little. Violet had a point. It was one thing to suspect somebody, it was another thing to have proof. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

“I’m not sure I trust Lottie,” Henry said. “I think we should keep an eye on her for a while.” The others agreed.

Benny’s face suddenly broke into a grin as four small black dogs came toward them. A teenage boy in a green-and-yellow baseball cap was holding onto their leashes.

“You sure are lucky to have four dogs!” Benny told the teenager.

“They’re not mine,” the boy answered. “I just walk them for a neighbor.”

“Oh, too bad,” Benny said, as one of the puppies licked his hand.

The teenager shrugged. “I’m a dogwalker. That’s what I do for the summer.”

“Cool job,” said Henry.

“Yeah, I guess it’s all right.” He turned to Benny. “You can pet them if you want.”

“Thanks!” Benny was all smiles as he dropped to the ground. The dogs began to wag their tails as he scratched them behind the ears.

“We have a little dog at home,” Violet told the boy shyly. “His name’s Watch.”

The teenager wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Well, I’d better go. I have to take the dogs to the park.” Then he hurried away.

“I’m going to be a dogwalker when I grow up,” Benny announced, as he ran along beside Henry. “And a detective.”

“You’re already a dogwalker, Benny,” Violet pointed out. “We’re always taking Watch for walks.”

“And you’re a pretty good detective already,” Jessie reminded her little brother.

Violet frowned in thought. “I just wonder if we’ll solve the case we’re on now.”

“It’s going to be much harder than we thought,” admitted Jessie.

Henry nodded as he turned to face Jessie. “A tree house called Little St. Ives isn’t much to go on.”

They were deep in thought when Benny began to chant, “When we were going to Shadowbox, we met a boy and four dogs out for a walk. How many were going to Shadowbox?”

They all laughed at their little brother’s funny riddle.

Benny added everything up on his fingers. “The four of us … plus the boy … plus four puppies. That makes nine going to Shadowbox!”

“Not quite, Benny.” Henry smiled and shook his head. “Only the four of us are going to Shadowbox. The boy and the dogs are going the other way.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” said Benny.

Jessie suddenly snapped her fingers. “That’s it!”

Henry turned and gave Jessie a confused look. “What’s it?”

“I know how many were going to St. Ives!”

“We already figured that out,” Benny reminded her.

“Well, I’m pretty sure we got it wrong,” Jessie said excitedly. “Remember how the riddle goes?” She began to recite, “
When I was going to St. Ives/ I met a man with seven wives.
” She paused for a moment to let them think about it. “Don’t you see?” she said at last. “What if the man and his wives — and their sacks and cats and kits — were all going in the opposite direction?”

“Then only the person who met them is going to St. Ives!” cried Benny.

“Exactly!” said Jessie. “And that means, the answer to the riddle is
one
.”

Henry nodded. “You must be right, Jessie.”

“So the number one is our next clue?” Violet looked puzzled. “What kind of clue is that?”

“And where’s it leading us?” added Henry.

“I think I know,” Benny said, breaking into a run. “Come on!” He motioned for the others to follow.

“The answer to the riddle is one,” Benny called back as he rounded the corner, racing for Shadowbox. “And Buttercup has the number one on her bell!”

“You think the answer to the riddle has something to do with Buttercup?” Violet asked, running right behind him.

“I’m sure of it,” Benny said. “We just have to … oh, no!” Benny stopped suddenly at the top of the driveway.

“What?” Jessie asked, trying to catch her breath.

“The riddle leads us straight to Buttercup,” Benny explained, “but Buttercup isn’t around anymore. And that means — ”

“We’ve come to another dead end,” finished Violet.

Just then, they heard a familiar voice drifting out the open window of Shadowbox. It was Grandfather!

Benny rushed inside, arms outstretched. Grandfather was standing in the hallway with Fran. He laughed and returned the hug.

“Grandfather, you’re back!” Jessie hugged him, too.

“I finished my work sooner than expected,” Grandfather told them, embracing Violet and Henry. Then everyone was talking at once.

“I bought a ghost cookie cutter,” Benny told him.

“We played croquet on the back lawn last night,” Jessie said.

“Fran showed us how to press flowers,” Violet was saying.

“We’ve been trying to solve a mystery,” added Henry.

Grandfather chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

As they sat down to lunch, Fran turned to Grandfather. “Let’s do something special tonight. How does a picnic supper in the park sound? A local group’s performing in the band shell.”

Grandfather thought an outdoor concert sounded great. So did everyone else.

“You know, it’s been ages since I’ve seen Nelson,” Grandfather said. “Why not invite him along tonight?”

It took Fran a moment to answer, but when she did, she was smiling. “That’s exactly what I’ll do, James. Thanks to Violet,” she added, “I’ve come to realize how little time Nelson and I spend together these days.”

“Maybe we could invite Reese and her mother, too,” suggested Jessie.

“Yes, I might as well mend all my bridges.” Fran nodded. “Oh, and I must remember to phone Lottie. She can meet us at the park after work.”

Benny swallowed a bite of his ham sandwich. “And we can bring the croquet set along, too.” He sounded excited.

After lunch, Grandfather went upstairs to take a nap. The children cleared the table while Fran made her phone calls. Cora accepted Fran’s invitation eagerly. So did Nelson. Lottie was the only one who had other plans. The Aldens couldn’t help wondering if her plans had anything to do with Rally Jensen, the art collector.

When the kitchen was spic and span, the children joined Fran in her workroom. Fran passed out heavy stationery, folded in half. “The flowers are very delicate, so handle them carefully,” she advised.

Violet decided on a border of purple pansies on the front of her card. Henry made a zigzag design with goldenrod and the dark green tendrils of a morning glory. Jessie draped red velvet ribbon through a wreath of creamy elder blossoms. And Benny used bright yellow buttercups to form the letter
B
.

They were just finishing when Grandfather poked his head into the room. “So this is where everyone’s hiding.”

The children smiled proudly as Grandfather oohed and aahed over their greeting cards.

“I bet you didn’t know your grandchildren were so talented, did you, James?” Fran said, her eyes shining.

At that, Grandfather had to laugh. “Fran, my grandchildren never cease to amaze me!”

“I guess we’ll never find the treasure.” Benny sighed as he added a spoonful of mayonnaise to the potato salad. “Not without Buttercup to lead us to it.”

The four Alden children were busy in the kitchen. They had offered to prepare the picnic supper while Grandfather and Fran sat outside and chatted about old times.

“I wish the runaway ghost would give us a clue,” Benny added.

Henry looked up. “Wait a minute!” he said. “You might be onto something, Benny.”

“Ghosts don’t exist, Henry,” Violet said. “Remember?”

“Yes, but Fran’s
painting
of the runaway ghost is real,” explained Henry.

“Of course!” Jessie said. She jumped out of her seat and gave Henry a high five. “Maybe that’s where the third riddle is leading us!” The four Aldens made a beeline for Fran’s living room.

No one spoke for a moment as they stared up at the bell around Buttercup’s neck. Then Violet said, “Fran’s hunch was right. The mystery really
is
connected to Buttercup.”

“I don’t understand,” Benny said. “Where’s the treasure?”

Violet looked thoughtful. “Maybe the painting is the treasure,” she said.

Henry shook his head. “I doubt it. Fran says the painting’s not worth very much.”

“There must be something we’re not seeing,” insisted Violet.

“Maybe Lottie was right,” Jessie suggested.

“About what?” Benny asked.

“About the mystery just being a parlor game,” said Jessie. “Maybe Anne just made it up to entertain her children, and there isn’t a real treasure at the end.”

“And maybe the clues just lead to the painting of their treasured pet,” Henry said slowly, figuring it out as he talked.

“Then Buttercup’s the treasure?” Benny looked confused.

Henry shrugged a little. “It’s beginning to look that way.”

But Violet wasn’t so sure. She had a nagging feeling there was more to it than that. Could the answer lie somewhere in the painting itself?

“Wow, there sure are a lot of people here,” Benny said as he looked around the park.

Everyone was enjoying the beautiful evening. But no one was enjoying it more than the Aldens and their friends. With the band playing nearby, they ate their supper and talked and joked. Even Nelson, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, was all smiles. People said hello as they passed, and many of them knew Fran and Nelson by name.