The Case of the Missing Deed

Text copyright © 2011 by Ellen Schwartz
Recipes courtesy of Merri Schwartz

Published in Canada by Tundra Books,
75 Sherbourne Street, Toronto, Ontario M5A 2P9

Published in the United States by Tundra Books of Northern New York,
P.O. Box 1030, Plattsburgh, New York 12901

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010928807

All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher – or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency – is an infringement of the copyright law.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Schwartz, Ellen, 1949-
The case of the missing deed / Ellen Schwartz.

(Teaspoon detectives)
For ages 8-11.
eISBN: 978-1-77049-267-7

I. Schwartz, Ellen, 1949-. Teaspoon detectives. II. Title.

PS8587.C578C37 2011     jC813.′54     C2010-903182-2

We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP) and that of the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Media Development Corporation’s Ontario Book Initiative. We further acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program.

Cover Design: Leah Springate

Cover Art: index card © Jomiamke4444 / Dreamstime.com; utensils © Getty Images/Dynamic Graphics © Nickylinzey-design / Dreamstime.com; © Nebojsa78 / Dreamstime.com; Queen Charlotte Islands © Getty Images/Radius Images

v3.1

For Merri –
chef extraordinaire

In memory of my mother

CONTENTS
~ONE~
“I NEED YOUR HELP”

ome on, Charlie, pass them!”

Claire, sitting in the backseat between her brother and sister, leaned forward, pointing through the windshield. Up ahead, her cousins’ car was winding its way along the coast road, Alex and Olivia waving from the back window. Ever since the two families had driven onto Otter Island from their respective ferries – Claire’s from Vancouver and her cousins’ from Victoria – and set off for Grandma’s cottage, Claire and Alex had been in a race to see who could get there first. Sometimes Aunt Meg’s car led, and sometimes, when the road was clear, Charlie pulled ahead, and then Claire gleefully thumbed her nose as they passed.

But now they were behind.

Claire’s mom, Eve, turned around and patted her daughter’s hand. “Not on this stretch, honey. It’s too dangerous.”

“But I want to beat them,” Claire said, even though she knew her mom was right. Following the south shore of the island, the road curved sharply around coves and bays.

“Let’s just get there in one piece,” Charlie, her mom’s boyfriend, said.

“But we’re almost there,” Claire said.

“Oh, are we?” her older brother Sébastien said, looking up from his book,
Advanced Sudoku
.

“Gen, time to log off,” Eve said to her older daughter.

Geneviève, hunched over her cell phone with fingers flying, didn’t respond.

“Geneviève!” Eve said sharply.

She looked up. “Huh?”

“Would you turn your phone off–” Eve began.

“But I’m in the middle of a text to Natalie,” she protested. “Oh! They’re all at the pool. Aaron too.” Her fingers flew.

Turning around, Eve grumbled to Charlie, “I’d like to pitch that thing into the sea.”

He reached across the front car seat and squeezed her shoulder. “Never mind, Eve. You were thirteen once.”

Eve just grunted.

When they came to the last straight stretch, Claire urged, “Come on, Charlie, go for it!” But before he could do anything, Aunt Meg and Uncle Tony’s car turned onto the winding gravel driveway that led up to Grandma’s cottage.

“Phooey,” Claire said. “Alex’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Charlie chuckled and then hit the brakes as Aunt Meg’s car suddenly slowed in front of him. A cloud of dust arose.

“What’s wrong?” Claire said.

Charlie shrugged, slowing down more as Aunt Meg’s car crawled over to the side. Charlie followed. A moment later, Claire saw why. An unfamiliar car was driving down Grandma’s driveway. It was silver, sleek, and sporty, with a convertible top rolled up. As it approached, carefully passing Aunt Meg’s car and pulling up to theirs, Claire could see three people behind the closed windows: a man driving, a woman beside him, and another man in the back seat.

“Who’re they?” Claire asked.

“Don’t know,” Eve answered. “Not islanders, I’m sure. And why they were at Grandma’s I have no idea–”

Just then the car pulled even with Charlie’s, and Claire spotted a logo on the side door. Within a circle, there was a blue lake with a purple mountain rising behind it and, beneath the top curve of the circle, two words in bold letters.


TANTALUS MINING
,” Claire read aloud. “What’s that?”

Sébastien sat forward. “It’s that mining company – you remember, the one that wants to put the mine on Lookout Hill.”

Sébastien knew about Tantalus Mining. Grandpa had told him about it six months earlier, shortly before he died. Apparently there was a deposit of something called tantalum on the island – and it was a real mineral; he and Grandpa had looked it up on the Internet. Tantalus Mining had announced plans to dig a mine right in the middle of Otter Island. They wanted to buy up all the properties around the mine site, and on the way to it, too. And that included Grandma and Grandpa’s.

Before Grandpa got really sick, he and a group of islanders had met to talk about how they could stop the mine. They’d written letters to the
Otter Observer
. Stan Wilensky, the unofficial “mayor” of Otter Island, had replied, saying that there was nothing to worry about, that the mine, when it came, would be good for the island, and that Tantalus would do everything properly, “because they truly care about our beautiful environment.”

Sébastien could still remember Grandpa’s snort at that one.

Then Grandpa had gotten more and more ill, and the family had stopped worrying about the mine.

Now the silver car eased past Charlie’s, followed by a puff of dust. For a moment, the driver looked toward Charlie’s car,
and Sébastien’s eyes locked with his. The man looked angry, Sébastien thought. His hands were clenching the steering wheel, and his mouth was drawn in a line.

“What could they have wanted with Mom?” Eve wondered in a worried voice.

“Maybe it has something to do with the open house tomorrow,” Charlie said.

Maybe so
, Sébastien thought. Grandma had called and asked them to accompany her to the meeting that Tantalus Mining was holding to present their plans to the islanders. Since the family was intending to come for their annual summer visit anyway, they’d moved up their plans to arrive a couple of days early.

The car moved on. Aunt Meg pulled back onto the driveway, and Charlie followed. Half a minute later, both cars had parked on a gravel pullout beside the cottage, and everyone was piling out. But instead of hugging and kissing and hauling out their gear – the backpacks and coolers, Alex and Claire’s fishing rods, Olivia and Aunt Meg’s paints and brushes, the groceries and books and beach shoes and beer – everyone rushed inside to see how Grandma was.

She was in the kitchen, leaning on the counter. Her shoulders were shaking.

“Mom!” Eve said, rushing over. “What’s the matter?”

Aunt Meg took Grandma’s hand. “Who were those people? What did they do to you?”

“Grandma, don’t cry,” Alex said, patting her on the back.

Grandma wiped her eyes with her free hand. When she turned to face them, Sébastien was shocked. Grandma was so thin, it looked like she’d barely been eating. Her gray
hair, normally wavy, was an unkempt mess. Her whole body looked … caved in. His mother exchanged an alarmed look with Aunt Meg.

Sure, Sébastien knew that Grandma was sad over Grandpa’s death. They all were. The last few times he’d seen Grandma, she’d been down in the dumps. Her voice had sounded flat. She’d stopped painting. When he’d told her about the science prize he’d won, she’d said, “That’s nice, dear,” as if she hadn’t really heard.

But this was worse. Now she looked … old … tired … and very upset.

“I’m going to lose the cottage!” she wailed.

Uncle Tony, a giant at six foot four, put his arm around his mother-in-law. “Here, Lily, sit down.” He gently guided her to a chair. Charlie filled a glass with water as the others clustered around.

“Now, tell us everything, Mom,” Eve said.

“It’s about that mine, isn’t it?” Aunt Meg said.

Wiping her eyes, Grandma nodded.

“What did those Tantalus people say to you?”

“Well, you know they’ve been coming around, trying to get me to sell them my property for the road to the mine.”

“But you refused,” Claire said.

“Of course she refused!” Alex said. He turned to his grandmother. “There’s no way you’d sell this place, right, Grandma?”

“Of course not. And I don’t have to sell. They can’t make me. If I don’t, they’ll have to go around me. But today they said … they said that whether I sell or not, I’ve got to prove that I own the property. And if I don’t, then the land will go back to the government, who owned it in the first place, and
then the government will give it to them for the mine.” Her lip trembled.

“But of course you own the place!” Aunt Meg said. “You and Daddy bought it fair and square.”

“Meg’s right, Lily,” Uncle Tony said. “You’ve got yourself into a state for nothing. You’ll show them the deed, and that’ll be the end of that.”

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