The Secret of Willow Lane (3 page)

The man turned slowly and looked right at Jessie holding the camera in her hand.

CHAPTER FOUR

That guy in the attic
saw
me, Jessie thought. Her hands trembled as she rewound the unused film. She popped it out, jammed it into her pocket and set the empty camera on the desk.

Downstairs, she called softly to Tina through the screen door.

Tina laid her bike on the grass and marched up the porch steps. “What’s going on? Let’s
go
.

“Quick. Get inside.” Jessie opened the screen door, grabbed Tina’s arm and pulled her into the house. “A man was watching you from Mr. Johnson’s attic,” Jessie whispered. “When I took a picture of him, the flash went off and he caught me holding the camera. I’m getting scared.”

Tina’s eyes were huge.

“This is the plan,” Jessie said. “We leave the bikes out in front and go downtown the back way.” She held up the film. “We can take this to the camera shop in the Square. I want that guy’s picture developed fast! I want my dad to see it.”

Tina nodded. “Let’s go!”

The girls raced through the house and out the back door. They sprinted across the lawn to the fields that bordered the back yards on Jessie’s block. Now, they ran fast. Jessie ignored the heat. She had one goal—to get the film to the camera shop.

* * *

On the Johnson porch across the street from Jessie’s house, a man stood quietly in the shadows. He watched the two girls run through the field. When they were out of sight, he crossed the street. He wore bib overalls and a blue shirt. A baseball cap, pulled down low, hid his eyes. And he walked with a limp.

At the Hanson house, the man climbed the steps and pressed the shiny black doorbell. Mrs. Winter appeared at the screen door. “Yes?” she said.

He looked down as he spoke. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m here to measure the bedroom for the carpet you ordered.”

She looked puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about this. I’m just babysitting. Mrs. Hanson’s not home and…”

His hand went to the door handle. “It’ll just take a minute. It sure would help if I didn’t have to make another trip.”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Winter. “Well, I guess it will be all right.” She opened the screen. “Which bedroom are you supposed to measure?”

The man stepped inside and pointed to the bedroom on the upper right hall—Jessie’s. “That one.” He started up the stairs.

“Wait! I’d better go with you,” said the sitter. “I wish Mrs. Hanson had told me you were coming today. Oh well. Let’s get it done.”

She passed him on the staircase and led the way. Just as they stepped into Jessie’s bedroom, the telephone rang.

“Go ahead and measure. I’ll get the phone.” She rushed to the telephone in the Hansons’ bedroom. “Hello? Oh, Mrs. Hanson. Yes, Phillip’s fine—asleep. And Jessie—oh, the man is here to measure for the carpeting in Jessie’s room…” She paused and listened. “Oh, dear. You didn’t order any carpeting? Yes. Hang on.”

She laid down the receiver and hurried to Jessie’s room. “Sir! Sir?” The room was empty. Through the window facing Willow Lane, Mrs. Winter saw the man limp to a green car parked at the curb. He got in and sped down the street.

The sitter rushed back to the phone. “Why, he’s gone, Mrs. Hanson! He just ran out and went racing down the street in a green car.”

She listened. “Well, I surely won’t do that again! It was foolish of me—letting a stranger into the house.” She listened. “No, the car was too far away to see the license number. Jessie and Tina went downtown about fifteen minutes ago. I hope they’re all right.”

She paused. “Don’t worry. I’ll check with you next time before I let anyone in. Oh, by the way, the man had a noticeable limp. Bye for now.” She hung up.

Mrs. Winter hurried to check on Phillip, who was still asleep. In Jessie’s bedroom, she looked for anything out of place. When she spied the camera lying open on the floor, she reassembled it and set it on Jessie’s desk.

Downstairs, she firmly hooked the front screen door. Then she hurried to the kitchen and did the same with the back door.

* * *

They couldn’t keep running. The girls slowed to a walk, turned a corner and headed to the center of town.

Courthouse Square was the hub of Fairfield. It held the library, the bandstand and the county courthouse. Shops and offices lined the four streets facing the Square. Jessie and Tina’s destination was Bergstrom’s Camera Corner.

A bell tinkled when they entered the shop. Photographs of babies and family groups hung in frames on the walls. Most of the faces in the pictures were familiar to the two girls. They leaned against the counter and tried to catch their breath.

Mr. Bergstrom appeared from the back room and frowned. “Here, here, girls,” he scolded. “Now look at my nice clean glass counter all covered with smudges.” He produced a spray bottle and a paper towel and began polishing the surface. Leaning over, he eyed the glass from a different angle, trying to eliminate the streaks.

What a crab, thought Jessie. Aren’t we his customers too? But she remembered her manners and said politely, “Hi, Mr. Bergstrom.”

He was silent as he rubbed the glass.

“Sorry about the smears,” she said. “We were wondering if you could help us out?”

Mr. Bergstrom put his spray bottle under the counter and turned to Jessie and Tina. “Maybe I can help. Tell me what you want.”

“We need a picture developed as soon as possible,” Tina said. “How fast could you do that?”

“We have an overnight service,” he said. “You could have it tomorrow at noon.”

Oh no, thought Jessie. Not a whole day.

Tina said, “I’ve seen some special developing you do right here in your dark room. Could you develop this one picture yourself? Just as a favor?”

Mr. Bergstrom looked at Tina. “All right. Your father took the trouble to come to our house in the middle of the night when the baby was sick. Not many doctors will do that anymore.” Mr. Bergstrom smiled at Tina and took the film. “You can pick it up in one hour.”

“Thank you!” chorused the girls. They left the shop, careful not to touch the sparkly clean glass door.

“Boy,” Jessie said. “I can never get over how you talk people into stuff.”

Tina laughed. “Just like my mom. Anyway that’s what my dad says.”

They crossed the street to the Square and walked on the brick path that led to the library. Along the way, people sat on freshly painted park benches, reading under the trees or talking in pairs. It was cool in the shade and a breeze ruffled the flowers in their beds.

Jessie and Tina ran up the wide stone steps of the library. On the broad cement parapets that lined the stairway, huge concrete lions lay guarding the entrance.

Just before Jessie pulled on the brass door handle, the girls slowed to a dignified walk and stopped talking. They knew that Miss Tyler, the librarian, was inside. Just about everyone in Fairfield, under the age of forty, was a little bit afraid of Miss Tyler.

CHAPTER FIVE

The quiet coolness of the library was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. Miss Tyler was in her usual place—seated on a tall stool behind the big reception desk. From her perch, she had a direct view of all who entered and all who misbehaved. Her round black eyes missed nothing.

“You do the talking,” whispered Jessie to Tina. “She’s always nicer to you.”

At the sound of whispering, Miss Tyler’s eyes snapped up sharply from the book she was reading. She watched the girls closely as they approached the desk.

“Kirstina, Jessica,” said Miss Tyler in a low voice. “I’ve told you before. Whispering disturbs others. Speak in a low voice. Do not whisper in the library.”

After a moment, she said, “Now, how may we be of help?”

“Sorry, Miss Tyler,” said Tina in a low voice. “We need information on Mr. C.G. Johnson. Do you keep old newspapers?”

“We don’t keep the actual newspapers, Kirstina,” lectured Miss Tyler. “Surely you can see that we wouldn’t have room to store so many papers in this building. And imagine the fire hazard. Why no insurance company would think of insuring the library if we did that.” She pursed her mouth in disapproval.

I’m glad
I
didn’t ask, thought Jessie. She’s even laying it on Tina today. I wonder if she ever smiles.

She studied the woman behind the desk. Miss Tyler was tall and very thin. With her dark hair pulled back into a bun, her long nose seemed even longer and it curved down—like a parrot’s beak. Her darting black eyes saw everything in the library. She even had the right name—Polly. Maybe she’d be nicer if I brought her a cracker. Jessie smiled at the thought.

The sharp black eyes caught the smile. “Is something amusing, Jessica?” asked the librarian.

“Just thinking about something funny my baby brother did yesterday,” said Jessie, crossing her fingers behind her back. She knew Miss Tyler wouldn’t ask more. Babies didn’t seem to interest her, probably because they were noisy and couldn’t read.

“Now,” said Miss Tyler, “about the newspaper articles. We keep that material on microfilm. If you give me the dates that interest you, I’ll help you find what you want.”

Jessie spoke up. “Could we see what you have on Mr. Johnson around 1929 and also December, 1949 and January, 1950? Just our paper—
The Fairfield Tribune
.”

Miss Tyler said, “I’ll see what I can do. Quietly take seats over by that machine.” She pointed with a long talon-like finger to an apparatus sitting on a big oak table.

The two girls sat down in wooden armchairs at the table with the machine. Jessie knew if she looked at Tina, she’d burst out laughing.

In a few minutes, Miss Tyler was back carrying two boxes. “I’ll show you how this works,” she said in a low voice. “Watch carefully. I’m much too busy to have to keep repeating the instructions.”

They listened intently while she worked the viewer.

“When you are finished, please return the cartridge boxes to the front desk,” said Miss Tyler. She turned and walked briskly back to her position on the tall stool.

Jessie ran the equipment. After some jerky movement, she gained control of the levers and brought the newsprint in the reader into focus.

She moved the newspaper dated April 6, 1929 through the viewer. It showed news stories about C.G Johnson, but they all related to the family farms.

“Keep going,” said Tina. “We have a half-hour before we have to pick up the film.”

“I wish I knew when C.G. met Alice. Oh, it must have been summer because Daddy said they met at a band concert,” Jessie whispered.

“Shh…” warned Miss Tyler from her lofty post.

They moved forward to June 1929. A brief article stated that Miss Alice Jorgenson was visiting her aunt, Miss Ada Nygard. Miss Jorgenson, said the story, had just completed her freshman year of college at the University of Wisconsin and was on her summer vacation.

“Bingo!” Jessie said in a low voice.

“Too bad there isn’t a picture of her,” said Tina.

“I guess nobody has a picture of Alice,” said Jessie. “At least my dad hasn’t seen one.”

The girls were able to follow C.G. and Alice’s courtship through the news articles and gossip columns during the summer of 1929. The couple was reported being seen at various social events in Fairfield. There were church picnics, dances at the country club and boating excursions on a nearby lake—all attended by the young pair.

Finally, in an August issue, an announcement of their engagement appeared. A wedding was planned for the following April in Madison, Wisconsin, home of the future bride.

“Okay, we’ve got them married off,” said Jessie. “Let’s look at twenty years later.”

They put the microfilm for December 1949 in the film reader. Soon an item on the Johnsons appeared on the society page. It read:

Mr. and Mrs. Eric Hanson are out-of-town

guests of the C.G Johnsons. The Hansons

reside in Council Bluffs, Iowa. Mrs. Hanson,

the former Marta Swenson, is a lifelong

friend of Alice Johnson. The Hansons will

stay in Fairfield for the New Year’s

festivities before returning to Iowa.

“Hold on,” said Jessie. “The Eric Hansons were my grandparents. They moved here after my dad was born. They bought the house that we live in now.”

“What’re you thinking?” asked Tina.

“I’m thinking that it’s very strange that my dad never told me that his parents were old friends of C.G. and Alice.”

“Maybe your dad doesn’t
know
they were friends,” said Tina. “Where do your grandparents live now? I’ve never met them.”

“Neither have I,” said Jessie in a whisper. She glanced at Miss Tyler who was busy at her desk lecturing a middle-aged library patron. “Both of my dad’s folks were killed in a car accident while Daddy was in law school. Nobody lived in our house for a while. Then Daddy came back here to practice law.”

“Boy!” Tina said. “This is all news to me.”

“Let’s read about Alice and the baby,” said Jessie. “It’s almost noon. The picture will be ready.”

“Yeah. We don’t want to be late and get Mr. Bergstrom mad.”

The girls searched the papers and found an official death notice for Alice Johnson in the January 1950 newspaper. It read:

On January 1, 1950, Mrs. C.G. Johnson

(nee Alice Jorgenson) died during the New

Year’s Day blizzard. Private services

were held on January 3, 1950 with only the

family present. Burial was in the Swedish

Graveyard.

“That’s funny,” Tina said. “It doesn’t say anything about the baby.”

Jessie furrowed her forehead as she gazed out the window onto Courthouse Square. The trees on the green were still. No breeze swayed their leaves in the noon sun.

“Come on,” said Tina. “Let’s pick up the picture.”

The girls assembled the film box and took it to Miss Tyler at her desk.