Mystery at the Crooked House (4 page)

“We promise to do our best!” added Violet.

Mrs. McGregor smiled. “No one can ask more than that!”

Jessie thought of something. “Mrs. McGregor, do you mind if I make a copy of the riddle? That way we can take a quick look at it whenever we want, and the note can be tucked safely away.”

“Good thinking!” said Henry, and Violet nodded. They could always count on Jessie to be organized.

Mrs. McGregor took a small pad of paper and a pen from her purse. She handed it to Jessie, along with the note. With her head bent, Jessie set to work copying the riddle by the light of the fire.

Nobody said anything for a moment, then Henry asked, “Mrs. McGregor, are there any photographs of the Mystery Lady?”

Mrs. McGregor began rummaging through the shoe box. “She never liked having her picture taken, but ... I think there is
one
snapshot. Not an especially good one. Her face is hidden under a big straw hat.”

Finally, Mrs. McGregor let out her breath. “Well, it’s not here. But it must be around somewhere. I’ll take a good look tomorrow.”

When Jessie had finished scribbling out the riddle, she commented, “The Mystery Lady’s handwriting has very high loops.”

Mrs. McGregor looked surprised. “I guess I never noticed.”

Jessie said, “That’s usually a sign of someone who has a good imagination.”

Mrs. McGregor broke into a wide smile. “Yes, the Mystery Lady had a wonderful imagination! We would often sit for hours under a tree. Oh, she would make up the most wonderful stories to entertain me!”

“I think Grandfather was right,” said Henry as Mrs. McGregor put the yellowed note safely away in the shoe box. “We
will
need our wits about us to solve
this
riddle!”

“Please enjoy yourselves, too, while you’re here,” urged Mrs. McGregor. “I wouldn’t want you to spend all your time trying to find the treasure. After all, there’ll be a fresh blanket of snow for tobogganing tomorrow!”

Benny shot to his feet. “I wonder if it’s still snowing.”

As everyone rushed over to the window, Violet thought she caught a glimpse of movement in the hall. Was it just the flickering shadows of the fire? Or had someone been eavesdropping?

Benny held out his cracked pink cup while Violet poured hot chocolate from a big thermos. “This’ll sure warm me up!” he said.

The Aldens were sitting together on a snowy bank by the lake after a busy morning. Their day had started with a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, toast, and pancakes with maple syrup. After breakfast, they had shoveled the snow from the long driveway. Then they’d carried the shovels down to the lake to clear a patch of ice for skating. Now they were taking a break from a friendly game of hockey.

“If something grows dragon teeth every year,” Jessie was saying, “then it only makes sense that it must
lose
them every year, too.”

“That’s true,” stated Violet. “But what loses its teeth every year and then grows new ones?”

Jessie shrugged as she pulled the riddle from her back pocket and read it again.

“That was a good idea to make a copy of the riddle, Jessie,” said Violet, shoving the thermos back into her duffel bag.

Jessie nodded. “This way Mrs. McGregor can keep her note safe in the old shoe box.”

“What I can’t figure out,” said Henry, “is why the Mystery Lady said it would take a
second
to find the treasure.”

Benny looked discouraged. “It’s taking us forever! How are we going to find the treasure if we can’t answer the riddle? And we promised Mrs. McGregor!”

Henry put an arm around his younger brother. “We promised we’d do our best. And we
will
do our best. We haven’t given up yet, have we?”

“No!” the other Aldens shouted all together.

Nobody said anything for a while as they sipped their chocolate and enjoyed the peace and quiet. Finally, Jessie spoke up. “No wonder Mrs. McGregor wanted to visit her family home one more time. It’s so beautiful up here at Riddle Lake.”

“I wish I’d brought my camera!” said Violet. “Just look at how the icicles glisten on the trees! It’s just like the Mystery Lady’s painting.” Violet had been admiring the painting again before she’d gone to bed.

“How can Nola be so grumpy,” wondered Benny “when she’s staying in such a nice place?”

“She was just as unfriendly at breakfast,” added Henry. “I wonder what’s bothering her.”

Just then the Aldens heard the creaking of boots on snow. They all turned quickly in surprise. Clarissa was standing behind them with her skates slung over her shoulder.

“Hi, Clarissa!” Jessie called out with a friendly smile.

“We were hoping we’d run into you!” Violet told her cheerfully.

Clarissa gave them a dimpled smile. “Me, too! I wasn’t sure how long you’d be staying at the Crooked House.”

“Just for a few days,” said Jessie. “Mrs. McGregor wanted to see her family home one more time before it’s sold. She invited us to come along.”

“You can play hockey with us, if you want!” offered Benny. “We only have four sticks, but we can take turns sitting out. We marked the ice where the nets are supposed to be. We don’t really have any nets. You have to pretend.”

“I’ve never played hockey before,” Clarissa told them. “It sounds like fun, but I just remembered something ... important I forgot to do. I’d better hurry. Thanks anyway.” And with that, Clarissa disappeared behind the trees.

“That’s a bit strange, don’t you think?” remarked Violet. “Why would Clarissa change her mind about skating?”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe she just doesn’t like hockey.”

“I guess it’s possible,” Violet said slowly but she didn’t sound convinced.

The Aldens finished their hot chocolate, then they grabbed their hockey sticks and stepped back onto the ice. They were soon laughing and shouting as they chased the puck here, there, and everywhere. Henry was the fastest skater. He usually reached the puck first, then passed it smoothly back to the others. When Benny scored a goal, Henry, Jessie, and Violet always cheered loudly for him.

When the Aldens finally trudged back to the Crooked House, they were tired and hungry from their busy morning out-of-doors. It wasn’t long, though, before Madeline’s chili and Mrs. McGregor’s homemade potato chips put them in good spirits again. Nola Rawlings had gone into town for the afternoon, so they all enjoyed a cheerful meal together.

Benny gulped down the last of his milk. “I don’t think Nola likes us,” he said at last.

“Now, now,” said Mrs. McGregor. “How could anyone not like the Aldens?”

“I wouldn’t worry, Benny,” added Madeline. “Nola isn’t very friendly to anyone. I tried asking her a few questions the first time we had dinner together. But she got very uncomfortable. She doesn’t seem to like talking about herself.”

“Just like the Mystery Lady,” observed Henry.

Madeline set another bowl of chili in front of Benny. “I don’t care much for mysteries, myself. Never have, never will!” Changing the subject, she said, “I heard you ran into Clarissa today. She stopped in for a while just after seeing you.”

Violet was surprised. Didn’t Clarissa say she was in a hurry? It was strange that she had time for visiting.

“She’s such a sweet girl,” Madeline told them. “Clarissa comes here every day after school until Nick gets home from work. We’ve become very close friends.”

“Mrs. McGregor’s always there when we get home,” Violet said, smiling at their housekeeper.

“If you’re looking for a pleasant way to pass the afternoon,” Madeline told them as they helped clear the table, “you’ll find jigsaw puzzles in the living room cupboard. And we have a wonderful library here at the Crooked House.”

“Plenty of books on riddles, too!” added Mrs. McGregor, her eyes twinkling.

When they were washing the dishes, Henry had an idea. “Why don’t we look through those books on riddles. Maybe we’ll come across one that mentions dragon teeth!”

Benny was excited. “If we find the riddle, then the answer’ll be there, too!”

As soon as the dishes had been put away, the Aldens went into the living room to sit by the warm fire. While Violet worked on her sketch of the Crooked House, Henry, Jessie, and Benny browsed through the books of riddles. Jessie helped Benny with some of the harder words. They didn’t even hear Mrs. McGregor when she came into the room.

“Ah, what a cozy scene!” Mrs. McGregor smiled. Then she turned to the youngest Alden. “Did you find that mystery book, Benny? The one by Amelia Quigley Adams?”

“Oops!” cried Benny. “I forgot!”

Jessie smiled. “You didn’t forget, Benny. You fell asleep by the fire last night. Henry had to carry you up to bed!”

Benny seemed surprised to hear this.

Mrs. McGregor chuckled. “A warm fire on a cold night has that effect on me, too, Benny.” Mrs. McGregor went over to the bookcases that lined the far wall. “The whole set of the Amelia Quigley Adams mysteries is right here. Just take your pick!”

Benny hurried over and pointed to the one he wanted. Mrs. McGregor pulled it down from the shelf.
“The Alphabet Mystery
is one of my most prized possessions,” she said. “It was signed by the author herself.” Mrs. McGregor opened the book and read the inscription out loud. “‘To Margaret, All Best Wishes from Amelia Quigley Adams.’”

“Did you really meet her in person, Mrs. McGregor?” Benny wanted to know.

Mrs. McGregor shook her head. “No, but the Mystery Lady
did
meet her, and she had this book signed for me.”

“I’ll be extra careful with it,” Benny promised.

“I know you will,” Mrs. McGregor assured him. Then she reached into the pocket of her knitted sweater and pulled out a photograph. “Oh, by the way, I came across the snapshot of the Mystery Lady when I took the shoe box back up to the attic today.”

The Aldens gathered around to take a look. The woman in the photo was sitting on a blanket out-of-doors having a picnic lunch. Her face was hidden under a wide-brimmed hat.

“As I was saying, it’s not a great picture,”

Mrs. McGregor went on. “The Mystery Lady would never go anywhere without that big hat to keep her face shaded from the sun.”

“It looks bigger than she is!” Benny said.

Mrs. McGregor laughed. “I remember that hat so well! She would always leave it behind so that it would be here for her next visit. And it stayed on that hat tree in the hall for the longest time while we waited for her to return! Finally, though, we packed the hat away in its hatbox and put it up in the attic.” Mrs. McGregor tucked the photo back into her pocket. “Nothing stays the same forever, I guess.” Then, with a little sigh, Mrs. McGregor hurried out of the room.

“We
must
find that treasure for Mrs. McGregor,” said Jessie as they gathered by the fire again.

“I agree,” said Henry, and the others nodded.

Violet was squirming in her chair. Something was poking her in the back. When she twisted around, she noticed that a book had slipped behind the cushion. Tugging it out, Violet glanced at it curiously. “Mrs. McGregor must be reading this,” she remarked. “It’s the published journals of Amelia Quigley Adams.”

“What’s a journal?” asked Benny.

Jessie said, “It’s like a diary. You write your thoughts down in it every day.”

Just then, Nola appeared in the doorway. She was still wearing her coat. When she spotted the book on Violet’s lap, her face turned a deep shade of red. She rushed over and snatched it away. “How dare you!” Nola sounded upset. “You have no business snooping into things that don’t concern you! It’s a good thing I came back early.”

Violet’s eyes widened in alarm. “But I was only—”

The young woman walked away before Violet could finish. At the doorway, Nola turned slowly around and said in an icy voice, “I sincerely hope this never happens again!” And then she was gone.

The Aldens looked at one another in disbelief.

“Why was she so angry?” asked Violet. Her voice shook a little. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

Jessie got up and put an arm around her sister. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, trying to comfort her. “Nola wouldn’t even give you a chance to explain.”

“I didn’t know the book was hers,” Violet pointed out. “There was a name written inside, but the name was Rebecca Flagg.”

“Rebecca Flagg?” echoed Benny.

Henry shrugged. “Maybe Nola borrowed the book from a friend.”

Jessie had been thinking. “Didn’t Nola say she wasn’t interested in Amelia Quigley Adams?”

Violet nodded slowly. “But why would she pretend she wasn’t?”

“That’s just what I was wondering,” said Henry thoughtfully.

The Aldens exchanged glances. They were each thinking the same thing. Maybe the riddle of the dragon’s teeth wasn’t the only mystery at the Crooked House!

The Aldens had searched through all the books of riddles but found absolutely nothing that would help them. So the next morning, they decided to take a break for a while. After a breakfast of hot oatmeal and blueberry muffins, they bundled up in their warmest clothes and went outside to build a snowman.