Ghost Town Mystery (4 page)

Beyond the last cabin, they found the trail and began the climb uphill.

This time Violet brought her camera. She stopped often to snap pictures of breathtaking views. She kept hoping they’d see an animal, but the wildlife must have heard their clumping boots and stayed hidden.

When they reached a flat spot in the trail, the children sat down to eat.

Benny opened his bag eagerly. Then he stared at his sandwich.

“Peanut butter and
cucumbers
?” he exclaimed in disbelief. “Who ever heard of a peanut-butter-and-cucumber sandwich?”

“You got the good one,” Jessie said, peeking between two slices of stale bread. “I have grape jelly and
spinach.
Left over from last night’s dinner, I bet.”

Henry’s and Violet’s sandwiches were just as awful. The children made do by pulling out the vegetables and eating the bread. At least the potato chips and apples were okay.

When lunch was over, the children perched on a large boulder and stretched out in the noonday sun.

“Look!” Henry cried. “An eagle!”

Fascinated, they watched the eagle’s lazy flight.

“I wish I could fly,” Benny said dreamily. The warm sun made him sleepy. He closed his eyes for a second.

Then Jessie was shaking him. “Benny, wake up.”

“I’m awake,” he said, sitting up. “Where are we?”

“We’re still on the mountain, but we should head back to the motel,” Violet said as she gathered their trash into one sack.

Henry slid down off the rock and helped the others.

“Here’s the trail,” he said. But it seemed different. Were those three round rocks there before? he wondered.

At first no one else noticed if the trail looked different.

Then Jessie said, “I don’t remember that raggedy mountain peak way off in the distance.”

“I don’t, either,” said Violet. “I took lots of pictures, but not one of that mountain.”

“We’re going downhill,” Benny pointed out. “We must be on the right trail.”

But the more they walked, the more Henry realized they were on the wrong trail.

“Stop, guys. We’re lost,” he admitted. “It’s my fault. I should have looked around for a second trail.”

“We all should have been paying attention,” Jessie said, trying to make him feel better.

Benny climbed onto a fallen tree. “Hey!” he yelled. “I see smoke!”

Henry quickly joined him. “Smoke means a campsite or maybe even a cabin! Let’s go down.”

They followed the trail to a sunlit clearing. In the center was an old but well-built cabin. Smoke curled from its stone chimney.

“Somebody’s home,” Violet said excitedly. “I’m sure they’ll help us find our way back to Eagles Nest.”

Jessie walked up to the solid door and knocked.

At once, the door flung inward and a huge figure filled the doorway.

“What do you want?” a booming voice demanded.

Benny immediately thought of a giant in a fairy tale.

“I — uh — ” Jessie stammered. She fell back a step, startled.

The large figure was a woman. She wore a red-and-black flannel shirt over at least two other shirts and men’s jeans. Her large feet were laced into stout work boots. The woman’s iron-gray hair was cut short and jaggedly, as if she’d cut it herself with scissors and no mirror.

“What do you want?” the woman demanded again.

This time Henry spoke up. “We were hiking and we got on the wrong trail — ”

“You sure did!” the woman boomed. “This is private property. Get off my land!”

“But — ” Before Henry could finish his sentence, the woman went back into the cabin and slammed the door.

The Aldens stared at one another, astonished by the huge, unfriendly woman.

“We won’t find any help here,” Henry said. “Let’s get off the lady’s property like she asked. Maybe we’ll find the right trail if we keep looking.”

In the end, Benny found a fork in the trail. Soon they were back at Eagles Nest.

“Just in time for afternoon refreshments,” Mrs. Harrington told them, setting out a bowl of olives.

Benny didn’t like olives with pits. “No, thanks,” he said. “But something happened up on the trail!”

“You didn’t see a bear, did you?” asked Mrs. Harrington.

“Worse! We saw this lady who was almost as big as a bear!”

Jessie giggled at her brother’s description. “We got on the wrong trail and wound up at a cabin. The lady who lived there wasn’t very friendly.”

“She told us to get off her land,” Violet added. “She shut the door in our faces.”

Mrs. Harrington nodded. “That was Old Gert you ran into. She’s harmless, unless she catches you trespassing.”

“Why would a woman want to live in the woods by herself? Doesn’t she get lonely?” Jessie asked.

Mrs. Harrington shrugged. “Old Gert’s been on that mountain since my Walt brought me here as a bride. She likes to be alone. Just remember she’s harmless, but
tough
,” she warned. “Don’t cross her path.”

Violet knew Gert was scary, but there was something familiar about the old woman. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

The kids went outside to wait for Grandfather, who hadn’t returned from Beaverton yet.

“Do you think Old Gert could be the ghost?” Jessie suggested. “She doesn’t like people around. It would be a good way to scare off people.”

Violet shook her head. “She’s too big. The Lady in Gray is smaller and thinner.” Was that what was bothering her? No, it was something else.

“It was hard to tell how thin Old Gert is, with all those shirts she had on,” Henry said. “But I think Violet’s right. Gert was too tall to be the ghost.”

Just then Grandfather’s rental car pulled up. As he climbed out, the children ran over.

“Did you talk to Mr. Murphy?” asked Benny. “What did he say?”

“Yes, I did,” Grandfather answered. “Jay reminded me the property had just been assessed.”

“What does that mean?” Violet wanted to know.

Henry replied, “It’s when someone figures out the value of the land.”

Grandfather nodded. “The assessed value is often higher than a buyer’s asking price. People want to save some money and everyone expects it. But Victor’s offer is a
lot
more than I paid. And way above the assessed value. It doesn’t make sense.”

Jessie frowned. “Mr. Lacey said your land is worthless. What did Mr. Murphy say about that?”

“Jay didn’t know why Mr. Lacey said the land was worthless,” Grandfather went on. “There isn’t anything wrong with that property. It’s just not worth a lot.”

But Mr. Lacey wants it,
Jessie thought.
Bad enough to pay a whole lot of money.

That night the lights went out during dinner. The food was so horrible it was just as well they didn’t have to look at it, Violet decided.

“We have electricity problems here,” Mrs. Harrington said, lighting a single lantern and setting it on the table. “The power truck should come out tonight to fix it.”

Mr. Williams tossed his napkin beside his plate. “Mrs. Harrington, if I catch some trout tomorrow, would you cook it for supper?”

Benny’s mouth watered at the thought of trout, even though he didn’t like fish that much. But anything would be better than the barely warmed frozen pizza they were eating.

“Sure,” said Mrs. Harrington. “But don’t get your hopes up. Tincup Creek is all fished out.”

“How can a stream be fished out?” asked Benny.

Corey explained, “A lot of streams in the West are in danger. There are more people catching fish than fish being born. The streams need to be restocked with trout.”

No fish in the stream, falling-down cabins, poor food, electricity and phones that went out for no reason. No wonder Eagles Nest had so few tourists, Henry thought as he and Benny went to their cabin.

“I can’t see,” said Benny. “It’s so dark!”

“Let’s open the shade,” Henry suggested. “Maybe a little moonlight will shine in.”

But clouds covered the moon and stars. Henry and Benny couldn’t see anything. But they heard voices arguing.

“It’s only for a couple more days,” said a shrill voice.

“I don’t care! I don’t want to!” whispered a lower voice.

Benny put his hand on Henry’s arm. “Who’s out there?”

“Two women,” said his brother. “I think it’s Marianne and her mother.”

“Or Old Gert,” supplied Benny.

“That’s possible,” Henry said.

Then the one with the shrill voice said, “It’s for a good cause!”

“I don’t care!” said the whisperer. “I won’t do it! I won’t!” Sobbing, she ran down the path.

As Benny got ready for bed in the dark, he wondered about the whisperer. What was it she didn’t want to do? And who was making her do it?

The next morning, over a breakfast of cold cereal, the children discussed the latest mysterious events.

“The two people arguing must have been Marianne and her mother,” Jessie said. “They are the only two women here.”

“Don’t forget Old Gert,” said Benny.

Violet frowned. “But why would Gert argue with one of the Harringtons? She never leaves her mountain.”

“I’ve been thinking,” said Henry. “Besides Grandfather, Victor Lacey and Mr. Williams both have their own rental cars. Maybe they drove into Beaverton and brought someone back with them.”

Jessie looked at him. “Are you saying the ghost might be somebody we haven’t met at Eagles Nest?”

“It’s a possibility,” said Henry. “At least the electricity is back on. Did anyone hear a power truck last night?”

No one had. It was so quiet at Eagles Nest, they would have heard a large truck rumbling up the road.

Grandfather joined them then. “Ahhh. Thank heaven for hot coffee!”

“And hot chocolate!” said Benny.

True to his word, Grandfather had visited a store in Beaverton. He’d brought back chips, cookies, fruit, raisins, juices, and packets of cocoa.

The others entered the dining hall.

As always, Victor Lacey was in a cheerful mood. “Great morning for fishing!”

Mr. Williams only nodded curtly and sat away from the group.

When Marianne came in to pour their coffee, Corey jumped up and asked if he could help.

“You’re a guest,” Marianne told him.

Looking downcast, Corey took his seat again.

Benny listened intently to the exchange. Was Marianne the whisperer outside their cabin the night before? Or was she the one with the shrill voice? It was hard to tell.

“I have an idea,” announced Mr. Lacey. “Why don’t you Aldens come fishing with me this morning?”

“I didn’t bring my fishing gear,” said Grandfather.

Mrs. Harrington came in to clear the bowls. “You can borrow my husband’s rod. And the children can use the one a guest left behind. But don’t expect much luck.”

“I haven’t caught a minnow since I’ve been here,” Mr. Williams said. “I thought Tincup Creek was a gold-medal stream.”

“What’s that?” asked Jessie.

“It means it should be teeming with trout,” Mr. Williams replied, heaving himself away from his meager breakfast.

Outside the dining hall two rods leaned against the log siding. Fishing tackle boxes — one new, one old — sat below.

Mr. Williams, who had walked out with them, took a bamboo rod and the beat-up tackle box. He stalked down the path alone.

“Don’t you guys fish together?” Benny asked Victor.

The younger man shook his head. “Mr. Williams always fishes by himself.”

Henry noticed Victor’s metal rod and shiny tackle box. “That’s a cool rod.”

“Yeah, it’s a beaut. The metal is titanium.”

Henry also admired the wide belt around Victor’s waist that carried pliers, a towel, and a holder for the rod. By comparison, Mr. Williams’s old vest looked outdated.

The path divided at the banks of Tincup Creek. Mr. Williams went upstream. Victor led the Aldens downstream.

“Hope they’re biting today,” he said.

So did Benny. If they caught some fish, they’d have a good dinner that night.

First Victor showed them how to cast the line into the water. “It’s all in the wrist,” he instructed.

Grandfather caught on quickly. So did Henry. Then Benny gave it a try. The children laughed when Benny’s line got caught on a tree branch behind them!

Next they waded out into the creek. Mrs. Harrington had issued them all rubber boots. The water wasn’t very deep, but it was chilly.

Victor splashed noisily through the stream, heading for a good sunny spot.

Way downstream, Henry could see Robert Williams wading slowly. The older man put each foot down quietly.

“This looks promising,” Victor said, casting his line.

After everyone had cast a few times, Victor talked about the lures used in trout fishing.

“Trout will eat anything that looks like an insect,” he said. His own vest displayed brightly colored feathered lures with hooks.

After about an hour, Henry caught a fish! Victor helped him reel in the baby brown trout.

“Way to go!” Victor praised, netting the fish.

Henry stared at the small fish struggling in the net. “It’s too small. I want to turn him loose.” He and Grandfather gently eased the hook from the trout’s mouth and watched him swim away.

“There goes dinner!” Benny said mournfully.