The Virginia Mysteries Collection: Books 1-3

by Steven K. Smith

  “Derek, wait up!” Sam called and ran down the stairs.

  ELEVEN

  The Gathering

  Everyone followed the guide out the back door of the Wythe House. It opened up into a lush garden. Several brick walkways broke up strips of green grass behind the house.

  “We’ll be over here!” shouted the boys as they ran down the path toward a bench at the end of the garden. They sat underneath a covered trellis of ivy and vines for privacy.

  Sam turned to Derek, nearly bursting with excitement. “Do you think the solar microscope was the device Thomas Jefferson was talking about in his letter?”

  “It has to be. Did you see if the key fit the slide holder?”

  “I held it up,” answered Sam, “but there wasn’t enough time to put it in. It seemed like it would fit, though.”

  “It must be a special kind of slide,” said Derek. “Something Wythe developed just for the secret of the Declaration. We need to get back to that room. Maybe after it’s closed we can sneak back in.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Derek. We should tell someone first. This is a pretty important place. With all of the history here, they could call the FBI and charge us with damaging a national treasure!”

  “But we might find them a national treasure!” said Derek. “That letter and whatever is on that slide are our insurance policy. We’re not stealing anything, we’re helping uncover something valuable for history. They’ll be thanking us, trust me. But we’ll never know if we don’t get ourselves back in there.”

  Dad approached their meeting spot. “Come on, boys, let’s finish looking around the gardens and then head over to the Governor’s Palace.”

  Sam and Derek followed their parents through the gardens and a few small outbuildings. There was a kitchen, a stable, and a couple other separate structures. As they approached the Governor’s Palace, the boys watched two men fill an old cannon with powder. They waited for a minute. Just when it seemed like nothing was going to happen, an enormous boom filled the air and shook the ground.

  “Whoa,” yelled Derek, covering his ears. “It’s like fireworks on the Fourth of July!”

  Inside the Palace was equally cool. The best part was the dark wood-paneled walls covered with rows and rows of old guns. There were hundreds of muskets and rifles, even shiny swords, all on display. It seemed like the colonists could have fought off the British using just the weapons on those walls.

  After touring the Governor’s house, Mom stopped to watch a demonstration on colonial basket weaving. Sam thought he’d rather sit and watch the grass grow. He was starting to like all of this history stuff, but basket weaving was where he drew the line.

  He whispered to Dad that he was going to walk up the street for a few minutes, promising to meet them after the boring basket weaving session was over. Dad glanced up at the quiet wide streets and nodded his head. Sam turned, signaling for Derek to join him. The two wandered over to a marketplace stand and tried on some tri-cornered hats. Derek found a toy musket and pretended to shoot at Sam from behind a table stocked with homemade jams selling for fifteen dollars a jar.

  A crowd was gathering outside the old church steps. Some of the colonial people were shouting. The boys put down the hats and muskets and walked over to see what was going on. Actors in costume were working their way through the crowd.

  “Did you hear what they voted on over in Richmond just last month?” chattered a woman. “It’s only a matter of time now. I fear war will come quickly. That passionate speech by Mr. Patrick Henry has sparked a fight for liberty! Just like up in Boston.”

  Sam groaned at the sound of Patrick Henry’s name. He hadn’t thought about him for a while and wanted to keep it that way. George Wythe seemed much safer.

  “Give me liberty or smell my breath?” said Derek, grinning at the woman. The lady just looked at him, confused. Derek seemed to like talking to these characters, but it still seemed a bit weird to Sam. He couldn’t get used to the fact that they were supposed be from a different time period.

  As they were listening to the woman, a colonial man in a green vest walked up behind the boys. He shouted into Sam’s ear.

  “The rumors say Mr. Henry will make a special visit to us today. He wants to talk more about the events up in Philadelphia at the Continental Congress. Some speak of even declaring independence from England!”

  Patrick Henry would be here? Sam started to sweat.

  Derek saw Sam’s face whiten and leaned over. “Not that Patrick Henry, Sam. These are different actors.”

  Before Sam could answer, the door to the church opened and the crowd started buzzing. A man stepped out, waving his arms to the gathering. Sam craned his neck to see, but the lady in the dress was blocking his view.

  “Citizens of Williamsburg, friends,” cried the voice.

  Sam froze. He knew that voice.

  He leaned around the woman to stare up the church steps at the man speaking. It was that Patrick Henry. It was Jerry!

  Sam couldn’t believe it. What was Jerry doing in Williamsburg? Did he perform as Patrick Henry all over the world? This was terrible.

  Derek looked nervous, too. He started to leave, pulling Sam’s arm behind him. They bumped into people on their way through the crowd, a mixture of tourists and actors blended together. Everything was a blur to Sam.

  This had gone all wrong.

  “Sorry,” said Derek, as he knocked into a man in black boots. “Excuse me,” he called to another.

  A voice boomed down into the crowd. “Young men, why do you leave in such haste from our gathering? Are you not interested to learn about the independence that is soon to be declared for us all in Philadelphia?”

  It was Jerry’s voice, and he was speaking to them! They’d caused too much commotion trying to get out of the crowd.

  One of the characters in front of them put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and pointed. “Mr. Henry is speaking to you, lad.”

  Sam stopped his pushing and stood still, the man’s hand resting on his shoulder. It reminded him of when Jerry stopped him in the basement of the church. Slowly, he turned and looked up through the crowd at Jerry.

  “Surely you aren’t a spy for the British, seeking to infiltrate our assembly, are you?” Jerry shouted while the crowd around him laughed.

  Jerry turned his glance down, seeing Sam’s face for the first time. Immediately his expression turned serious. Sam knew Jerry had recognized him when his eyes narrowed and his mouth drew tight.

  For a moment, Jerry stood silently.

  Sam imagined he was deciding how to play this unexpected twist in the colonial drama. He was probably as surprised to see Sam in Williamsburg as Sam was to see him. Thankfully, Jerry’s options were limited in front of all these people.

  “Sorry, we have to go!” shouted Derek. He pulled Sam back to reality and out of the crowd.

  Jerry recovered from his surprise and quickly slipped back into his Patrick Henry character. “Perhaps I was mistaken. These are not British spies, but simply youths who are late for their mother’s lunch!” He watched the boys hustle across the street as the crowd chuckled, waiting for the rest of the program to continue.

  Sam couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was back at St. John’s Church. This whole week was one bad reenactment of fear. Why did he keep getting himself in these situations?

  The boys ran over to Mom and Dad who had finally finished with basket weaving. Now they were watching a woman describe how vegetables were grown in a colonial garden.

  Sam tugged on his dad’s sleeve and tried to talk to him. “Dad,” he panted, out of breath.

  “Why have you guys been running? You need to take it easy. There’s going to be a lot of walking today and you’re not going to make it at this rate.”

  “We…we have to tell you something!” Sam tried to say in between breaths.

  Derek interrupted before Sam could say any more. “Can we take a break and go to Aunt Karen’s? We’re starving, and yo
u said we’d go there for lunch.”

  Derek shot Sam a look that told him to be quiet.

  Mom finished with the vegetable lady and came over to them. “You boys want to visit Aunt Karen? I swear I can’t figure you out these days.” She checked her watch and then looked at Dad. “Well, it is past lunch time. I suppose we could take a break.”

  The boys nodded in quick agreement and followed their parents back to the car.

  It was only a few minutes’ drive to Aunt Karen’s house, but Sam didn’t want to talk. In his mind, all he could see were Jerry’s beady eyes. They were staring at him. It was like he had some kind of evil mind-lock, and Sam couldn’t tear away. Sam would never have suggested coming to Williamsburg if he had known Jerry would be here, too. He wondered if this trip was one mistake too many. They were sure starting to pile up.

  TWELVE

  The Hunt

  Once the family arrived at Great-Aunt Karen’s house, the boys suffered through the requisite hellos and hugs. Aunt Karen was eighty-five years old. She was their grandma’s sister, or something like that, Mom had said. They listened to the old woman gush over how much they’d grown and resembled their father.

  After a few minutes, Mom got their lunch requests, and the boys retreated to the back porch. Sam stared off into the row of green hedges that separated Aunt Karen’s backyard from the neighbors’. His head was spinning again.

  “Of all the places that we had to go,” moaned Sam, “we pick the exact place where HE is! What are the chances of that?”

  “Probably greater than most. We did go to another historic colonial site where they have reenactments,” Derek pointed out.

  Sam lay back on the patio with his hand over his face. “Ugh! What are we going to do?”

  The sliding door to the patio squeaked open. Mom stepped out carrying her cell phone.

  “Sam, you have a phone call.”

  “I do?” Sam sat up in surprise. Who in the world would be calling him here? He thought of Jerry. Maybe he’d tracked Sam down. Maybe Jerry had his phone number! Was he calling to tell Sam he was dead meat?

  “It’s Caitlin Murphy,” smiled Mom as she handed him the phone.

  Derek smirked and made a kissing face. “Do you need some privacy?” he teased, as he followed Mom into the house.

  Sam waved him off and put the phone up to his ear. “Caitlin?”

  “Hi, Sam. Sorry to bother you with your family, but I just had to talk to you some more about this mystery. Are you in Williamsburg?”

  “Yeah, we’re here. How did you get my mom’s cell phone number?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, well, my mom asked Brandon’s mom. She had it from the minutes of the PTA board meeting last week. See, they print everyone’s contact numbers at the bottom…”

  “Never mind,” said Sam, interrupting her before she kept going on forever. “It doesn’t matter. What’s up?”

  “Well, first of all, did you find the Wythe House? Was there anything in his study that matched the letter or the key?”

  “Yeah, we found the house and went on a tour,” said Sam. “Derek and I are pretty sure that the key we have is some kind of slide that fits into his solar microscope. It shines onto the wall like an overhead projector. It may even have a secret message.”

  “A solar microscope, very interesting! It actually fits, given his Enlightenment philosophy – using light and your senses and all.”

  “Right, that’s what the tour guide said.” Sam was surprised by her knowledge. It was impressive, even for Caitlin. “How did you know that?”

  “I told you, I’ve been doing a lot of research,” she answered. “So what are you going to do next? Did you tell your parents?”

  “Derek wants to sneak back into the house so we can try the key in the microscope. And no, we haven’t told our parents yet, but I think we should. This is all getting too dangerous.” Sam told Caitlin how they’d run into Jerry at the assembly in town.

  “Well, I have to confess something,” Caitlin said quietly. “I did tell my parents.”

  “You what?” cried Sam. “Caitlin, tell me you didn’t.”

  “Okay, I didn’t.”

  “Wait, but you just said you did!”

  “Well, sort of,” she continued. “I told them we had found some old papers that looked important, and that you guys were in Williamsburg looking for clues. I kind of made it sound like it was for a research project for Mrs. H.”

  “Oh,” said Sam, considering her answer. “Well, I guess that won’t hurt anything.” He didn’t think that he’d ever heard Caitlin call their teacher Mrs. H before. It had always been “Mrs. Haperwink.” Maybe she was loosening up.

  She wasn’t done. “And I kind of am in the car right now with them driving to Williamsburg.”

  “You’re what?” shouted Sam.

  Derek walked back onto the porch with a questioning look. Sam closed his eyes and just shook his head. This was getting out of hand.

  He wrote down Caitlin’s parents’ cell phone number and gave her Aunt Karen’s number. They agreed to try to meet up later that afternoon by the historic area. He didn’t like the idea of her parents knowing anything before his own parents did. Still, her research had been really helpful. Maybe it would be okay to have her on the hunt, too.

  Sam caught himself thinking that she didn’t even seem quite as annoying as usual. All this mystery stuff must be messing with his brain.

  Dad walked out onto the porch. “Boys, your Mom and I are going to head over to the chapel for a little while to visit the place where we got married. We might take a walk through the campus afterwards. Do you guys want to come along or stay here with Aunt Karen?”

  “We’ll stay here,” Derek blurted out before Sam could answer. “Sam said he’s feeling tired, and I was going to talk to Aunt Karen about her antiques.”

  Dad gave Derek a look that said he knew that he was up to something. Mom was waiting by the front door, though, so he didn’t take the time to argue.

  Once Dad had left, Derek leaped up from his chair. “This is perfect! Now we can give Aunt Karen the slip and head back over to the Wythe House. Caitlin can meet us there.”

  They went back into the house, carefully navigating around a sea of antique furniture, glass vases, and other valuables.

  “Where is she?” asked Derek, glancing around the room.

  “I don’t know,” said Sam. “Maybe she’s taking a nap. Old people do that sometimes.” He walked over to a glass door that was cracked open and peered through. “Aunt Karen?”

  Derek pushed past Sam through the doorway. “See anything?”

  “No, it’s too dark.”

  Sam slipped around his brother and into the room. The windows were covered by wooden blinds, allowing only a faint light to trickle in from the edges. He scanned the walls. They were filled with picture frames of all shapes and sizes. One caught his eye, so he walked up to the wall to check it out. A faded black-and-white photograph showed a young girl standing under a tree in front of a square brick house.

  “Look, Derek, isn’t that the Wythe House?”

  Derek inched past a desk so he could stand next to Sam. “Whoa, I think you’re right. It looks about the same as it does now. I wonder who that girl is? She kind of looks like Mom.”

  “That’s me, Sweetie.”

  The boys jumped at the voice. When they whirled around, they noticed Aunt Karen sitting in a rocking chair on the far side of the darkened room.

  “Oh my gosh,” exclaimed Derek, grabbing his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Aunt Karen!”

  “Don’t scare us like that!” said Sam, exhaling in relief.

  The old woman let out a cackle. She tapped her cane against a table and motioned for them to come over.

  “That’s you in the picture?” asked Sam.

  “You betcha,” answered the old woman. “My daddy took that picture after church on my tenth birthday. Seems like it was just yesterday. I sure was a looker, wasn’t I?”
>
  “Uh, yeah,” answered Sam, not really sure what she meant. He’d have to ask Caitlin.

  “Did you visit the Wythe House?” asked Derek. “We saw it this morning. There are all kinds of cool instruments up in the study.”

  “Ah, yes,” replied Aunt Karen, gazing up at the picture. “George Wythe was a famous teacher. He loved Thomas Jefferson like a son. They were both quite learned men and full of all kinds of interesting ideas and inventions. Did you know that George Wythe designed the Virginia State Seal?”

  “Is that like a sea lion?” asked Derek.

  Sam rolled his eyes and smacked his brother. Aunt Karen’s mouth was turned up in a slight smirk. Sam wasn’t sure if she actually got Derek’s lame joke or if that was just how old ladies’ faces looked.

  “We think he may have hidden a secret document somewhere in the house. It’s something Thomas Jefferson gave him,” Sam blurted out. With all the excitement, he couldn’t help himself.

  “Sam!” Derek elbowed his brother, giving him the evil eye to keep his mouth shut.

  “What?” asked Sam. He was getting tired of all these secrets. Besides, what could Aunt Karen do? She probably wouldn’t even remember having this conversation after they left.

  “Is that right?” said Aunt Karen. “How exciting for you boys. Many of the Founding Fathers were experts in codes, symbols, and various cyphers. Did you know that?”

  Interesting, thought Sam. That could explain why Wythe would create such an elaborate and clever way to keep things hidden. It was cool, but it certainly would have been easier if he’d just stuck something in a drawer. Although if Wythe had done that, Sam realized, there would be no mystery for them to solve. The document wouldn’t have stayed so well hidden for over 200 years.

  “Thanks for telling us,” Derek said.

  The old woman sat silently in her chair, not moving or making a sound.

  “Aunt Karen?” Sam leaned over and saw that her eyes were closed.

  “Is she dead?” asked Derek. This was too weird. He motioned to the door as if to say they should get going.