The 100-Year-Old Secret (13 page)

“I'm Mr. Fontaine,” he said. “Louis Fontaine, the curator of the Victoria and Albert Museum, and I have a small gift to express the appreciation of this museum and this country. You have restored a masterpiece to us that we thought was lost.”

Xander grinned as he remembered Xena shoving him under the bed in Fraser's room.

“We are forever grateful,” Mr. Fontaine went on, “and we hope you will accept this gift with our sincere thanks.”

Xander took the package. “Thank you,” he said. “Should we open it now?”

“Please,” said Mr. Fontaine, and stood back as they untied the string and then unwound the layers of brown paper.

What on earth? All they could do was blink.

“You've given us—” Xander started, but he couldn't finish.
Girl in a Purple Hat
was for them?

Then Xena laughed. “Look at her eyes,” she said, and with a rush of relief and a little disappointment, Xander saw that they were brown, not the startling green of the original.

“Oh, this is one of the copies that the artist was making!” he exclaimed.

Mr. Fontaine nodded. “It will look good hanging in your sitting room, don't you think?”

“It will look
awesome
,” Xena said. Xander nodded in agreement. Behind them, the room erupted in cheers.

Xena grinned at Xander and he grinned back. He knew what she was thinking. And he was thinking the same thing.

They were proud that they had found the missing painting and made so many people happy—but that wasn't the best part of the adventure.

The best part was that they hadn't failed their ancestor, the greatest detective who had ever lived. Sherlock Holmes, they both knew, would have been proud.

What did you want to be when you grew up?

A poet, which is odd, since poetry is just about the only kind of writing that I don't do now! Later, I wanted to be an archaeologist, but then I discovered that archaeologists do most of their work in a trench coat in a hot part of the world in the middle of the summer, and that job lost a lot of its appeal.

What was your worst subject in school?

Does P.E. count as a subject? Because if it does, that was it.

What was your best subject in school?

Math was easy and fun for me until my senior year in high school when suddenly it was as though someone switched off a light and I couldn't get it anymore. I always did well in foreign languages. I liked English a lot but it wasn't one of my best subjects.

What was your first job?

I volunteered in a local hospital. If you were to ask me about my strangest job, though, it would have to be working as a benthic ecologist. That was the technical name, but my job was really being a “worm picker.” I was helping with an experiment where scientists were trying to find out the effect of water pollution on the tiny critters that live in the mud. I would look through a microscope at a little dish full of sand and other things and pick out nematodes (which look like worms) and other things with tweezers.

Where do you write your books?

In my home office. I also have a day job as a college professor, but I never write there, and I never bring college work home with me. I've trained myself so well to write only at home and do my day-job work only at the office that the few times I've tried to write at the university, I haven't been able to!

Where do you find inspiration for your writing?

Inspiration is all around. It's sometimes hard to turn it off! Writers and non-writers all hear the same jokes, overhear the same strange conversations in the supermarket, read the same news stories, but the one who says, “Hmm, that would make a good story!” is the writer.

Which of your characters is most like you?

None of them are like me—at least I don't think so—but I based Ariadne in Cold in Summer on my daughter. In my next book, King of Ithaka, the main characters,
Telemachos and Brax, are exactly like my son, Patrick, and his best friend, Riley, but I didn't know I had based my characters on them until my husband pointed it out!

When you finish a book, who reads it first?

My daughter, and she's a good and tough critic. She finds all sorts of problems that never occurred to me.

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

I was a night owl for years and years, but gradually I've turned into more of a morning person. I do my most productive work in the morning and save the afternoon for things where I don't have to be creative.

What's your idea of the best meal ever?

Anything Italian, with something chocolate for dessert.

Which do you like better: cats or dogs?

Dogs, but only slightly. I love both!

What are you most afraid of?

Heights, which is why it's odd that I used to skydive. I met my husband when he helped me pack my parachute!

What time of year do you like best?

Tennessee, where I live, has a beautiful spring that lasts and lasts. When one kind of flower is starting to die out, another kind blooms. I love when the days get longer and we can sit on the porch after dinner and talk to our friends who walk by.

If you could travel in time, where would you go?

I would love to see a dinosaur (if I knew it couldn't get to me), but most of the times in history that I'd most like to see involve interesting people. I'm fascinated by the Middle Ages and would love to see how people lived then, if I could be sure that I could get home to modern medicine and hot water and refrigeration.

What's the best advice you have ever received about writing?

Enjoy the process of writing because you never know if anyone else will ever read it. If you don't enjoy it, you might as well do something else.

What do you want readers to remember about your books?

I hope they remember the characters the most.

What would you do if you ever stopped writing?

I'd keep imagining stories. I would scratch them out in the sand if I were stuck on a desert island without paper and I would tell them to passing camels if I were stuck in the middle of the Sahara. What would I do for a job? I'd keep teaching Italian!

What do you consider to be your greatest accomplishment?

Raising two happy and nice kids to be happy and nice adults.

Xena and Xander Holmes are back . . . and so is
a mysterious beast from Sherlock's casebook!

O
woo-oo-ooo!
The sound drifted through the air to the park where Xena and Xander Holmes were lying on their stomachs in the grass.

“What was
that
?” Xena sat up and pushed back her long dark hair. The eerie wailing sound had come from way off in the distance. It interrupted the Game she and Xander were playing and made her skin prickle.

Xander stared toward the woods. “Um, a siren?” He didn't really believe it though. That had been a
weird
noise. It gave him goose bumps.

“I guess.” Xena wasn't convinced either. “A wolf, maybe? Do they have wolves here in England?” She knew Xander had been reading up on natural history for school. Xander had a photographic memory. He would remember any mention of wolves—especially because he had a phobia about wild animals.

“Nope.” Xander shook his head. “No wild ones, anyway. The English killed them all by the eighteenth century. And there can't be a wolf sanctuary or anything like that near here or Mom and Dad would have definitely mentioned it. And I would have convinced them to pick someplace else for vacation.”

“Well, maybe a dog, then.” But Xena still felt uncomfortable. She'd never heard a dog make such a spooky sound. And now she felt that there was something creepy about the quiet town square in this little village. She shivered and decided to change the subject. If Xander thought there were wolves, or even something like them, nearby, he'd refuse to do any of the outdoor activities their parents had planned.

Ooo-ooo-OOOOOOO
! They both froze as the howl drifted down from the forest. It started long and low, rose to a higher pitch, then dropped again before dying out.

“No
way
that was a siren!” Xena said. “Let's find out what it was!” She leaped up and ran in the direction of the eerie sound. When Xander didn't answer she glanced over her shoulder.

Xander had disappeared.

X
ander!” Xena called. Where had he gone? Had something sneaked up behind them and—

Oh, there he was, going into the bed-and-breakfast. Their father was standing at the door. “Didn't you hear me calling you?”

“Sorry,” Xena said as she reluctantly headed into the B and B. “I was listening to something else.” The truth was, she was still thinking about it. She'd never heard anything like that howl. She wished she could investigate it right now, because she knew that whatever made it might not stick around.

“Well, what do you think of our home away from home?” their dad asked.

When they first arrived in town, she and Xander had dumped their bags inside the door of the B and B and then dashed out to the village square, relieved to be able to stretch their legs after the long car ride. Now Xena paused and
took a good look at the place where they'd be staying for fall break.