“Why did she leave like that?” McKenzie whispered.
“I don’t know, but it looks like she’s our only hope for more information. We’ve got to find out what happened next,” whispered Elizabeth.
Megan remained quiet, and Elizabeth put her arm around her friend. “This is hard for you, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Not really. I mean, I never knew my grandmother. It’s just strange that she and my mother were both young widows.”
The girls heard the walker approaching and ended their whispered conversation. Jean Louise followed her mother, carrying several old notebooks. She handed them to Megan.
Mrs. Wilson was seated once again and took a moment to get settled. “These are my journals from that time. The whole story should be there, from the time Foster began coming to the restaurant, until…”
Megan looked at the books. It seemed she had just been handed her own treasure.
“You take them home and read them,” the woman told her. “I hope they’ll help you find what you’re looking for.”
Megan placed the journals on the coffee table in front of her, then walked to Mrs. Wilson’s chair. She leaned over and hugged the woman. “Thank you so much,” she said.
The old woman patted her on the shoulder, then wiped a tear from her wrinkled cheek. “You’re welcome, my dear. You are more than welcome.”
Back at the Big Texan, Megan had to report for work. “Here,” she told Elizabeth, handing her the journals. “We can’t afford to waste any time. Y’all start reading through these and see what you can find.”
Elizabeth and McKenzie spent the better part of the morning by the Texas-shaped pool, reading through the yellowed pages and looking for clues. Much of what they found was insignificant—Mrs. Wilson’s thoughts about her husband, her children, her job, even the price of groceries. Finally, McKenzie sat up in her lounge chair and said, “I found it! Listen to this: ‘A man has been visiting the restaurant regularly and is obviously smitten with Emily Marie. He seems like a kind man. I hope she gives him a chance; she’s been so sad since Paul died.’”
Elizabeth read over her friend’s shoulder. “Jackpot!” she cried. “Now we have our starting point. Let’s keep reading.”
McKenzie wiped the sweat from her brow. “Okay,” she said, “but can we continue this in the restaurant? I’m burning up out here, and I’m starving!”
“Me too,” agreed Elizabeth.
They gathered the journals and headed toward the restaurant. Passing the stables, they noticed a regal looking horse across the paddock. “Wow, what a beauty,” said McKenzie. “Let’s get a closer look.”
They were about halfway there when they heard a man’s voice. It was Mr. Jacobs, leaning against the stable and talking on his cell phone. The girls shrank into the shadows of one of the stalls and remained silent.
“Yes, that’s right,” he said. “There were twelve marbles in a variety of gemstones. I tracked them to Amarillo, but it’s been thirty years since anyone has seen or heard of them. They just vanished.”
Jacobs began pacing in agitation. “I don’t know how a set of priceless gemstone marbles can simply disappear. Surely somebody has to know something about them.”
The man paused again, and then said, “I’ve got to find those marbles. I’m tired of all this rodeo business, never spending more than a week in the same place. I’m ready to settle down and live the good life, and those marbles will help me do it.”
More silence, and then he said, “Okay. Let me know what you find out. I’ll keep asking questions here.” The man shut his cell phone and strode out of the stables and toward the hotel rooms.
“Whoa,” said McKenzie. “That proves he’s a crook.”
“Not necessarily. But it does sound suspicious,” said Elizabeth. “One thing is for sure. We’re running out of time. We’ve got to locate those marbles before he does.”
The girls kept their noses buried in the journals for the rest of the afternoon. The entries about Emily Marie were sporadic, interspersed with entries about housework and life as a waitress. It was like a treasure hunt—wading through the boring stuff to find the jewels.
Elizabeth liked the way Mrs. Wilson ended each journal entry with a one-sentence prayer. She felt she knew the old woman’s heart better from those sentence prayers than from the actual journal entries.
Finally, after hours of searching, she found the following entry:
It seems that Foster, humble as he is, is very wealthy.
Tonight he gave Emily Marie a bag of marbles. But these aren’t just any marbles, they’re priceless gemstones!
The paperwork is even there—they’re in her name.
She wasn’t sure if she should keep such a gift, and fretted all evening. But after the restaurant closed, he showed up again and asked her to marry him!
Of course she accepted. But they won’t make their plans known until he gets to know her children. He is a wonderful man, and I know he will be a good father to Ruby and Jack.
He’s leaving town tonight. He told her to keep the marbles in a safe place, and he’ll help her set up a safe-deposit box for them when he returns. She’ll worry herself to death, carrying around something so priceless.
We talked about hiding them in the restaurant, but for tonight, she took them home. I’ll bet she looks at them all night long.
Dear Father, please bless Emily Marie and her children with Your goodness. Amen.
“That’s it! They’re hidden in the restaurant!” shouted McKenzie.
Elizabeth shut the book and stood to stretch. Her eyes were tired from reading. “Maybe. Just like Alex suggested. But she could have gone ahead and put them in the bank too. Why don’t we head over and tell Megan what we’ve found. Maybe she can start snooping around.”
“Yeah, and maybe we can get some more of that pie!” McKenzie added.
Later that night, the group sat in the stands at the Greater Amarillo Livestock Show and Rodeo. Mr. Jacobs had generously given them his entire section of box seats. “I’d love to have someone cheering for me,” he’d said with a smile. His eyes had rested on Megan’s mom.
James and Evan sat two rows in front of the girls, exclaiming over the horses, and making their own plans to be cowboys someday. Elizabeth was glad that, for now, her brother had a distraction.
Ruby Smith sat with the ladies making small talk, and the two dads seemed absorbed in a conversation about the Old Testament book of Isaiah. The three girls, satisfied they wouldn’t be overheard, huddled together.
“So, did you find anything?” whispered McKenzie.
“No,” answered Megan. “I need more information. I have no idea where to begin. I did examine the floor boards in the kitchen area, but I couldn’t find any loose ones. I’m just not good at this detective business like the two of you are.”
Elizabeth patted her friend on the knee. “You’ll be fine. We just need to find more clues. We’re not even sure they’re at the restaurant. She might have put them in the bank or something. Do you think you can ask your mom if your grandma left any accounts open?”
“I’ve never heard her talk about any accounts. It seems that anything like that would have been closed out long ago. But I’ll ask Mom tonight,” Megan said.
“Ask Mom what?” Ruby Smith asked. The girls were surprised to find that she’d moved down and was now sitting directly behind them. Her hair was fixed in a new way, and she was wearing makeup.
“You look pretty tonight, Mom,” Megan said. Mrs. Smith smiled.
“What did you want to ask me?” the woman persisted.
Megan smiled sheepishly. “You remember those jewels I talked to you about? We’re still trying to find them.”
Surprisingly, Mrs. Smith laughed. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going on a wild-goose chase. But go ahead, ask me anything.”
“Did Grandma leave any bank accounts open?” Megan asked. “We’re wondering if she might not have stored the marbles in an account somewhere.”
/>
“Oh, you mean like in a safe-deposit box?” Mrs. Smith responded.
Elizabeth jumped in. “Exactly! Did your mother leave behind any kind of safe-deposit box?”
Mrs. Smith shook her head. “Not that I know of. But come to think of it, my grandmother did mention a small checking account. She never touched it. She said she wanted to leave it for me and Jack someday. It’s still there.”
“Bingo!” McKenzie shouted with excitement. “We’ve found the—”
Elizabeth clapped a hand over her friend’s mouth. “Let’s not announce it to the whole world,” she said.
“Oh yeah, sorry!” McKenzie whispered. “I tend to get a little excited.”
The others chuckled good-naturedly. “It’s okay,” said Megan. “It is pretty exciting.”
Mrs. Smith continued, “I have some business at the bank tomorrow anyway. I’ll ask about the checking account. And since this is official mystery business, would you girls like to come with me? I’ll take you all for ice cream afterwards.”
The girls nodded, and Mrs. Smith returned to sit with the ladies.
Megan looked a little stunned, and Elizabeth asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Who was that woman?” she asked.
Elizabeth turned and looked at Megan’s mom, not sure how to respond to the question.
“My mom is fixing her hair, wearing makeup, coming to the rodeo…she’s smiling! What has gotten into her?”
Elizabeth’s and McKenzie’s eyes swung to the handsome cowboy, sitting tall on a horse and getting ready to enter the arena.
No one answered Megan’s question, but the looks of concern stayed on their faces for the rest of the evening.
The next morning, Elizabeth and McKenzie stared gloomily out the window of the Phillips’ motel room. Rain poured down outside.
“I guess we won’t do much sightseeing today,” said McKenzie.
Elizabeth leaned over and lifted the stack of journals from the bedside table. “Well, as long as we’re stuck here, we might as well read some more. Megan has to be at work at ten a.m., but she was going to come early and do some more snooping,” she said, looking at her watch.
“Not snooping—investigating,” McKenzie corrected her friend.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Same thing,” she said. “But investigating does sound more official, doesn’t it?”
The girls settled in, sharing the same journal page, skimming for more clues. Before long, they found what they were looking for.
Emily Marie might go ahead and put the jewels in a safe-deposit box. She thought about doing it today, but it was late when she got off work, and the banks were already closed. Carrying around something so valuable is making her as nervous as a cat in a room full of rockers.
She’s anxious to put them in a safe place.
She was headed to work a party at the Cadillac Ranch this evening. She said the pay is good and the tips are even better. She tried to get me to go with her, but I was just too tired tonight. I told her I’d go with her next time.
McKenzie shut the book and hopped from the bed. “There you have it. She deposited the jewels. What time is Megan’s mom taking us to the bank today?”
“I think at three thirty, when Megan gets off work. Why don’t we walk to the restaurant and see if she’s there yet?”
The two sleuths quickly headed toward the Big Texan Steak Ranch, staying close to the buildings to keep from getting wet. They rushed through the swinging saloon-style doors, straight into a plaid cowboy shirt. Leaning their necks back, they looked up, up, up to see the owner of the shirt. It was Mr. Jacobs.
“Good mornin’, ladies,” he said, and tipped his big white cowboy hat. True to form, he winked at them before he strode out the door.
The girls didn’t know whether to be angry or giggle. “I wish he didn’t look so much like a movie star,” McKenzie said.
“Why?” Elizabeth asked.
“Because it would be a lot easier not to like him,” she replied seriously.
Just then, Jean Louise appeared. “What is it with you early birds this morning?” she asked. “Megan’s already been here for twenty minutes, cleaning every nook and cranny of the supply room. She’s not even clocked in yet.”
The two girls looked at each other and then at the red-haired waitress. “Um, could we, uh…” Elizabeth stammered.
“Go on back,” she said, pointing the way. “But if the manager catches you, she may put you to work.”
The girls dashed through the kitchen area to the dark storage room. They pushed open the door, and Megan gasped.
“You scared me!” she whispered, looking guilty. “Quick, close the door!”
The Costumes
The girls entered the small room and shut the door behind them. Megan was on her knees, surrounded by cans of tomato paste. She held a dustrag in her hand and appeared to be cleaning the bottom shelf.
“Look at this,” she said.
The girls leaned forward, but the dim lighting made it difficult to see. “Isn’t there a better light in here?” Elizabeth asked.
“One of the bulbs is burned out,” Megan told her. “But you can still see if you look close enough.”
McKenzie got down on her knees and examined the wall where Megan was cleaning. Elizabeth bent low and looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was a square break in the paneling, just large enough for a small teenage girl to crawl through.
“Do you think it’s a secret passageway?” McKenzie asked.
“I don’t know what it is. I haven’t been able to get it open. There are a couple of screws, but I need a screwdriver. Do you think the marbles could be hidden here?”
“That’s what we were coming to talk to you about,” Elizabeth told Megan. “We read in the journal that Emily Marie was planning to put the marbles in a safe-deposit box at the bank. We may be wasting our time here.”
Megan looked at Elizabeth, then McKenzie, her mouth hanging open. “You mean I’ve been breaking my back in here for nothing?” she said.
McKenzie chuckled. “Well, look on the bright side. Just think how impressed your boss will be that you spent your free time cleaning out the supply room.”
The three girls returned the cans to the lower shelf and left the small room.
“It’s time for me to clock in,” said Megan, looking at her watch. “I’ll see you both this afternoon. Maybe we’ll actually find the marbles!”
Elizabeth and McKenzie left the kitchen and spotted the Phillips family at a corner table in the restaurant. “Come on,” McKenzie said. “Let’s join them. I’m starved!”
“Me too,” agreed Elizabeth.
Before long they were each devouring a tall stack of pancakes, drenched in syrup and covered with whipped cream. Outside the window, the sun peeked through the clouds. The rain had stopped.
As they ate, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips asked, “So, what do you want to do today?”
The girls both shrugged their shoulders and kept eating. They were having fun, as long as they were together.
“I’d like to go shopping,” said Mrs. Phillips. “I saw some little boutiques a few blocks over.”
Evan groaned, and Mr. Phillips shifted in his seat. “Why don’t you girls go shopping, and Evan and I will hang out here with the horses and the cowboys?” the man suggested.
The girls nodded, and before long, the three females headed toward Amarillo’s shopping district.
In and out of shops they went, looking at Texas-shaped handbags encrusted with rhinestones, flashy cowgirl boots and hats, and western wear in all colors and sizes. Before they knew it, two hours had passed.
They were on their way back to the motel when McKenzie spotted a fun-looking thrift shop. “Oh, I want to see what they have in there, Mom,” she said.
“I want to run across the street to the post office and get some stamps,” Mrs. Phillips said, waving a handful of postcards. “Why don’t you two go over there, and I’ll meet you after I mail these.”
/> The girls entered the old store and were thrilled at the endless racks of vintage clothing, hats, and scarves. McKenzie wasted no time trying on a dark pair of sunglasses, an oversize hat, and a feather boa.
Elizabeth laughed at her friend’s outfit and then spotted a large cardboard box filled with wigs. Within moments, she was a brunette with long, messy curls.
The girls giggled as they tried on an array of wigs, scarves, and jewelry. They were completely unrecognizable when the bell over the door jangled. The two looked toward the entrance expecting to find Mrs. Phillips. Instead, Mark Jacobs walked toward them, a serious look on his face.
They froze. What in the world could a cowboy like Mr. Jacobs want in a girlie thrift shop like this? The man nodded at the girls, but kept walking. He didn’t recognize them!
He approached the counter and asked to speak to the shop’s owner. The clerk went to the back of the store and returned with an elegant, gray-haired woman.
“How may I help you?” she asked.
The cowboy introduced himself, then asked, “How long have you owned this shop?”
“Oh, I inherited this business from my grandparents. This little shop has been in our family since it opened, over forty years ago,” she told him.
“I’m trying to track down a rare set of marbles,” he said. “The last record I can find of them is here in Amarillo, about thirty years ago. I heard they were given to a poor waitress. I’m wondering if she sold them.”
Elizabeth and McKenzie moved a little closer to the counter. They pretended to be looking at some jewelry, and the two adults paid no attention to them.
“Marbles? I don’t recall any unusual marbles. Every now and then we’ve bought little toys like that, but we sell them pretty quickly. Usually to a young mother who is in here shopping,” she told him.
“Oh, these marbles weren’t toys. I’m sure the woman wouldn’t have sold them cheaply. They were very valuable,” he told her.
The woman thought a moment, wrinkling her brow in concentration. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t recall anything like that.”
Camp Club Girls: Elizabeth Page 15
