The Secret of Willow Lane (2 page)

“Oh, just wondering,” Jessie said. “I was thinking about Mr. Johnson. He was such a good friend. He taught me how to skate. Every time I’d fall down, there he’d be to pick me up.”

“You know, he taught me to skate too,” said her dad. “And how to ride a bike.” He folded his paper and laid it down. “My dad was gone a lot when I was growing up. C.G. filled in for him. Then, when my folks died, he really came to the rescue. He gave me moral support
and
financial help. I miss him every day.”

“So what will happen to his house and stuff?” asked Jessie.

“It all goes to some relative in the East unless I find a Will,” said her dad. “That’s what’s bothering me. I figure C.G. was too good a businessman to not leave a Will.”

“Oh, you mean where it says who gets the money?”

“Not just money. His home and farms too.”

“Maybe he hid the Will in his house,” Jessie said.

“Oh boy, that’s a big house. Lots of hiding places. I wouldn’t know where to begin to look,” said her dad.

“What’s up in that attic window?” she asked.

“On the third floor? C.G. used it as his office,” he said. “You should see that place! Beautiful, actually.”

“Daddy,” she said, snuggling close. “Tell me again about his wife, Alice. You know. How Mr. Johnson met Alice.”

Her dad settled back against the cushions and put his arm around Jessie. “Well, one summer day around 1929, Mr. Johnson was attending a band concert in the Town Square. Someone introduced him to Miss Alice Jorgenson.”

“Did she live in Fairfield?” Jessie asked.

“Nope. She was visiting from the East. Wisconsin, I think. C.G. Johnson’s family had plenty of money from wheat farming. They say he was good looking too. He was about thirty years old that summer and still a bachelor. The minute he laid eyes on Alice, he told everyone he was going to marry her.”

“She must have been gorgeous,” said Jessie.

“I think she was about nineteen, just finished with her freshman year of college. People say she was a beautiful blue-eyed blonde,” said her dad. “All the boys in Fairfield followed her around, but she liked C.G. even though he was older. Anyway, C.G. took her out all summer and the following year they were married.”

“So, he got what he wanted, didn’t he?” said Jessie.

Her dad laughed. “He sure did! And so did
she
! For a wedding present to his bride, C.G. built the house across the street.” He gave Jessie a squeeze. “Nice, huh?”

“Now tell the sad part. About the baby,” said Jessie. She was beginning to get sleepy. She could hear Phillip running upstairs in the hallway, squealing and laughing.

“Let’s see. I think they were married twenty years when they surprised everyone and announced they were expecting their first child,” continued her father. “It probably shocked the Johnsons too, after all those years. That happens sometimes.”

“Anyway, I guess everything went wrong. The baby was born at home because of a terrible January blizzard. They just couldn’t get through the snow to the hospital. It’s said that Alice and the baby both died and C.G. became an old man overnight. I guess he never got over his loss.”

“Did you know Alice?” asked Jessie.

“No, Sweetie. She died in 1950, the year I was born.”

“Did you ever see a picture of her?”

“That’s a funny thing,” he said. “I’ve been in C.G.’s house many times, but I’ve never seen a picture of Alice. Or a picture of anyone for that matter. I’ve just heard about their romance from people around town.”

“I sure would like to see a picture of her,” said Jessie. “So what will you do next? About the Will, I mean?”

“Just keep searching. Time’s running out though. We’re going to have to settle the estate soon. Right after they auction off the furniture in the house.”

Jessie yawned. “No wonder you’re worried.”

“Since you’re interested in Mr. Johnson, you should take a look at the books he gave me a few years ago,” said her father. “There’s and old leather-bound Bible and an atlas. They’re in my office downtown. Check them out next time you’re there, Jess. I think…”

A big red beach ball thumped down the hall stairs. Jessie and her dad watched it bounce from step to step, still thinking about the Johnson Family. They looked up and began to laugh at the shiny wet and naked baby crowing with glee behind the safety gate at the top of the staircase.

Jessie leaped to her feet and headed for the stairs. “I’m going to
get
you, Phillip!” She ran up the steps, opened the gate and grabbed a towel from the floor of the hall landing. When she caught the slippery toddler, she wrapped the towel around him. Jessie sat on the floor with Phillip in her lap. She buried her face in his sweet brown curls, damp from the bath, and whispered into his ear, “I love you, baby Phillip.”

* * *

Late that night when it was quiet, Jessie couldn’t sleep. She slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the window. The storm had come and gone. Mr. Johnson’s house glowed in the moonlight. Tall weeping willows swayed in the breeze. In the side yard, giant oaks seemed to raise protective arms around the fine old home.

A chill passed over her shoulders and she shivered. She felt alone, with the rest of the family asleep, and a little bit afraid. I wish I could tell Daddy about the flashing lights, she thought. But he’d call the police and my investigation would be over before it even started! Tina will be here early. We’re going to find out what’s going on at the Johnson place.

CHAPTER THREE

The door squeaked. Someone was in her bedroom. Jessie lay very still and listened. A floorboard creaked. Her ear picked up rapid breathing and a slight rustle of paper.

She opened her eyes—just a slit—and looked in the direction of the doorway. The morning sun surprised her. Her eyes opened wide when she spied Phillip’s back hunched down low. He was digging through her detective box.

“NO, PHILLIP!” she screamed.

He jumped up and ran crying from the room.

Uh-oh, thought Jessie. She scrambled out of bed, grabbed the carton and set it on her desk. Then she raced after Phillip. Jessie found the toddler down the hall in her parents’ bedroom, sobbing on her mother’s shoulder.

“Honestly, Jessie,” said her mom with annoyance. “You scared him to death. You don’t have to shout at him. I’m sure everyone on the block heard you.”

Phillip toned down his crying while his mother scolded Jessie. He turned his head toward his sister, with his hands over his face.

Jessie could see blue eyes, bright with tears, peeking through little fingers spread out like stars. “But, Mom! He was in my detective stuff!” argued Jessie.

“I told you—keep your door closed. You are
not
to shout at him,” said her mother. “Now say you’re sorry, Jess.”

Jessie held out her arms to Phillip. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Phillip.”

He jerked away and buried his face in his mother’s neck.

She pulled back and studied him. “I see a little smile,” his mom said. “Jessie says she’s sorry, Phillip. Sit on her lap while I finish getting ready.”

Phillip went to his sister’s waiting arms and she gave him a bouncy ride on her outstretched leg.

Her mother stood in front of the mirror and pulled her hair into a clip at the back of her neck. She put on earrings and began to apply makeup.

“Going some place?” asked Jessie.

“I’ll be at Dad’s office today, while he’s in court. Mrs. Winter will be here to watch Phillip.” Mrs. Winter was an older neighbor who liked to baby-sit for extra money. “What are you up to today?”

“Tina’s coming over and we’re going to work with my kit,” Jessie said. “I’d better get dressed.”

“Eat something,” her mom called after her. “And tell Mrs. Winter if you go somewhere.”

“Okay,” said Jessie. At the doorway, she turned and waved at Phillip. He stuck out his tongue. She glanced at her mom. Good. Mom didn’t see him. She hurried to her room and closed the door.

* * *

Jessie sat on the front porch steps with the detective kit beside her and watched Tina pedal up Willow Lane. At the Hanson yard, she got off her bike, walked it under a big maple tree and toed down the kickstand.

Jessie studied her friend as she crossed the lawn. Tina’s dark hair shone in the morning sun. She wore navy blue shorts and a white tee shirt. Tina always looks totally laundered, thought Jessie. The whitest shirt, the smoothest shorts. Her own shirt usually needed tucking in and her hair constantly popped out of her braid. And Tina was such a tiny little thing. That’s probably why everyone likes her. They think she needs protecting. What a laugh!

“Hi.” Tina sat down next to Jessie. “Sorry I’m late. My mom picked today to talk about all the stuff we have to do before school starts.”

“Don’t you hate it when they want to
organize
you?” Jessie groaned. “Thank goodness my folks had Phillip. Between him and working at the office, they haven’t time to fuss about me the way they used to.” She raised her arms in a gesture of thanks.

“I cannot believe you got that lucky. Being an only child is the worst!” Tina rolled her eyes.

While Tina talked, Jessie examined the detective kit. It was around two feet square and made of cardboard that looked like canvas. The handle on top turned it into a small suitcase.

“Let’s get to work.” She began laying out the contents of the kit.

Tina picked up the instruction book and started to read. “Here’s a list of all the things that should be in the case,” she said. “Tell me what’s there and I’ll check it off. Hand me that pencil.”

“Look,” said Jessie. “It has little pockets and a diagram to show where everything goes. Okay. Pocket watch, clipboard, pens, pencils, chalk—are you checking them off?”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey, cotton gloves. Wonder what they’re for.” Jessie tried them on. “Pretty good fit.”

“I’ll bet they’re for handling evidence at the scene of the crime,” Tina said. She giggled.

“Don’t you love this?” said Jessie. “It’s a good thing we’ve read all those mysteries and seen lots of spy movies.” She went back to the kit. “Okay, back to work. Will you look at this tiny little camera? And two rolls of film.” She slipped film into the camera and stood up. “It’s so little, it fits into my jeans pocket!”

“It says here that it has a telephoto lens on it,” said Tina. “That means you can take a picture from far away but when the print’s developed, you’re able to see all the detail. Isn’t that
great
?”

“It has everything we need,” said Jessie. “Look—a bag of something for making a mold of a footprint. The label says ‘dental stone.’ Never heard of it. Here’s a flashlight. No batteries though.”

“We can ride downtown and get some. I have money from my allowance,” Tina said.

“Great. Look—tweezers, scissors, a hand mirror and little empty bottles. See how they fit into the pockets?” said Jessie.

“Perfect!” Tina said.

“Tina! It’s got a fingerprinting set! See—dark powder and white powder. Let’s try it.”

A big pot of geraniums, loaded with red blooms, sat on each step leading to the porch. They lifted one of the pots off its shiny black plate. Jessie pressed a thumb on the surface. “Okay. Read the instructions.”

Tina read aloud. “When the fingerprint is on something dark, you sprinkle a dab of white powder next to the print.”

“Okay, I sprinkled it on. Now what?”

“Then,” said Tina, “using the feather brush in the set, brush powder across the ‘latent’ print. The powder will cake in the oil of the print and make its pattern show up against the dark background.” She stopped reading and watched Jessie.

“Look at this! I can see every detail of my thumbprint. This is so cool!” laughed Jessie.

While the girls put away the contents of the kit, Jessie told Tina the story of C.G. Johnson and his wife, Alice. “My dad thinks there’s a Will somewhere, maybe hidden. Boy, I sure wish we could get into that house.”

“What house?” asked Tina. She was still reading the instructions.

“The Johnson house! Aren’t you listening to me?”

Tina looked up. “Now wait a minute. We’re not breaking into somebody’s house. Do you want to end up in
jail
?” Tina’s voice was rising and she looked scared.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything illegal.” She closed the clasp on the detective kit. “Let’s go down to the Square and get batteries.”

“Right,” said Tina.

“I want to stop at the library too” said Jessie. “Maybe they have information on the Johnsons. Doesn’t the library keep old newspapers forever?”

“I don’t know about ‘forever’,” said Tina. “We could ask Miss Tyler. She knows all there is to know about libraries.”

“Wait here. I’m supposed to tell Mrs. Winter where I’m going,” said Jessie. She ran into the house carrying the detective case. In the hall, at the top of the stairs, she found Mrs. Winter carefully closing Phillip’s bedroom door.

“Shh,” said the babysitter. She put her finger to her lips. “Phillip just went down for his nap.”

“Oh, sorry,” Jessie whispered. “Tina and I are going down to the Square and then to the library.”

“All right, dear,” whispered Mrs. Winter. “Be careful.”

In her bedroom, Jessie set the kit on her desk and pulled the camera from her jeans pocket. At the same moment, she glanced through her window at the Johnson house. A chill swept over her scalp. She moved closer to the glass and stayed very still. A man stood in the attic window of the Johnson house. He was looking down and watching Tina toe up the kickstand of her bike.

Jessie felt her heart pounding. Who is he? I’ll call Daddy. He’ll know what to do. Oh, No! Daddy’s in court. I’m on my own.

She looked down at the camera in her hand. Slowly she knelt on the window seat. Carefully, she steadied the camera on the sash. When she flipped the telephoto switch and looked in the viewfinder, she could see the man clearly. She pressed the button. The flashbulb went off.